Dualities of Life

Chapter 36

Dualities of Life

Song wasn't as lucky as Lya, never getting to fully display and showcase his strength.

It wasn't truly his fault, but merely a bad luck of the draw. His opponent turned out to be a Direct Disciple of the Iron Mountain Sect, a 22-year-old prodigy at Mid Core Formation Realm who specialized in defense, nullifying Song's greatest strength--speedy attacks that accumulated damage over time. 

Ultimately, he managed to last for about fifty moves before losing. Sour-faced and dispirited, he bowed toward the young man opposite of him before dismounting the arena. Nobody, however, made fun of him--if anything, it was the opposite. 

Both him and Lya caught eyes of many of the older members of the visiting Sects, their ages, roots, and cultivation realms seeming dangerous. 

In particular, Shen Tao was not having a good time, his frown deep. Though he was confident in beating both of them, especially Song, just the fact that he wasn't confident in beating either within ten moves hurt his pride. After all, there was just about five or six years of difference between them--in the myths of the Immortal Age, that was considered a difference of an entire generation, as in they would not even be permitted to spar against one another since it was assumed that the older ones would win in a move or two at most.

Furthermore, from the way they fought as well as the arts they displayed, it was evident that neither had even an iota of experience within the Core Formation Realm--they were entirely held up by their Qi and not much else. Wouldn't that mean, then, that if they shored up those shortcomings, they would catch up to him, the Chosen One? No, that was impossible.

He worried still, however--he was one of the few who managed to construct an Earthly Core while ascending to Core Formation Realm. Were it not for his Master who spent a quarter of the Sect's wealth gathering all manner of herbs and liquids and fruits to aid him, that would have been impossible. However, because of that, the quantity and quality of his Qi usually outstripped his peers'. And yet... he did not see that discrepancy between him and the kids. If anything, he felt it was the opposite--his Qi would churn against theirs, as though deferring. 

It meant one of two things: either both of the kids had, through some miracle managed to actually construct a Heaven Core, an unprecedented feat only those few freaks from the Heavenly Pavilion ever managed to achieve, or they found a way to make their Earthly Cores better than his. Whichever it was, it did not track; the Holy Blade Sect did *not* have nearly enough resources to produce even one Earthly Core, let alone two. Which meant that their fortuitous encounter in the Nameless Forest was far more mind-bending than he initially thought. 

Dark thoughts spun inside his mind, and he was tempted to follow them. 

All his life, he'd only ever known success--from when he was a boy, he was the strongest, the fastest, the most talented. He was largely incomparable until he experienced that freak from the Pavilion. But he--as well as three others beside him--were exceptions, anomalies that he was never meant to compete with. Then, were those two kids anomalies, too? No, they were just lucky. Whereas they were supposed to die in that forest, forever to be forgotten, they eked out a new life. A life that threatened his throne.

Even if, right now, he could stomp both of them at the same time, what in three years' time? Or four? Would that be the case in ten years? No. Shen Tao knew better than anyone just how important talent was in cultivation--having to work twice as hard as someone else just to keep up wasn't sustainable, let alone thrice or five or ten times as hard. There were only so many hours in a day, after all. 

Gnashing his teeth, he left the stands, ignoring the calls of his Juniors. He feared, if he stayed, he'd explode in anger. 

Should he order their deaths? That was the question hanging above his mind. 

However angry he was, though, he wasn't stupid. Even if he didn't think Holy Blade Sect was remotely comparable to his own, it would be impossible to kill their Disciple within their own walls, especially because the Holy Blade himself was overseeing everything. Even his Master, the man Tao considered undaunted, repeatedly warned him and told him that as long as Holy Blade was alive, the Sect would continue to be Tier IV. 

And if even he understood the implications, then the Holy Blade did too. He would likely never let those two kids fall in any sort of danger, whether within the Sect's grounds or without. 

This tournament was supposed to be his day of triumph--he'd stomp over that cold, emotionless woman who repeatedly rejected his kind advances, prove to everyone that he was undisputed, and put any and all rumors saying otherwise to rest forevermore. 

However, even if he won in less than ten moves (which would be impossible, no matter what), the chatter would still remain the same: Shen Tao is the strongest... *right now*, but in a few years, those two kids will probably catch up. 

"Dammit!!" he slammed his fist into the all, cutting up his knuckles 'till they bled. He ignored them, however, as well as the pain. If anything, it was a small distraction from the mounting pressure in his chest that was making it hard to breathe. 

He was the best--he was always the best. There was no way he'd let some two kids who just lucked out take over. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever. 

**

The stag--whom Leo decided to name Poky, because the animal's antlers looked like they could poke the life out of him--stood silently by his side, and even Hoot shuffled over from Leo over to the stag's back. 

Even if Leo lived in a perpetual state of denial when it came to the level of intelligence of animals around him, something cracked inside that façade when he gazed at the two. There was a clear distress, pain, and longing in their eyes, the somber atmosphere around them almost corporeal. Whatever happened here, and however many years back, had more effect on the world than just ruining a few trees. 

From the 'epitaph', if it could even be called that, it seemed that whoever was buried here deserved death and more. But Leo trusted his furry friends far more than some random carving in the stone--and if they grieved, and if they suffered, and if they ailed... it was earned. 

"You're... telling me to cut those?" he broke the silence, prompting the pair to glance at him briefly and 'nod'. Though Leo was touched, he was also a bit moody, and desperately wanted to say 'yo, these trees are completely dead! How can I use them for construction?!'... but didn't. Even if it wasn't obvious, there was some intrinsic connection between his system and the animals, and the chances were that the system had a way to take the rotten wood and make it useful. 

Leo took out the sword from the scabbard, checked to see if he'd put on the necklace, and slowly walked forward. The firm ground beneath gave way suddenly and became ever so slightly sunken. His footprints remained etched for a long while behind him, and even the wind blowing turned colder. 

Taking a deep breath, he stopped by one of the trees and grasped the sword with both of his hands, slowly trickling Qi into it through his fingers. The sword shook and vibrated slightly as he swung it, expecting some resistance and bracing his muscles for it--but the sword met none. It cut through the wood cleanly and some seven feet of it standing above began to fall directly on top of Leo.

"Yikes!" he exclaimed and swiftly executed his footwork technique, managing to stride past the fall. He expected the wood to shatter into thousands of pieces when it hit the ground, but it remained firm and complete. At the same time, a window popped up in front of him. 

[12x pieces of Timber acquired]

[Place the raw wood on top of <Quelling Wood> to be processed]

"Huh," he exclaimed softly, stroking his beard. "So, about twenty timber per an entire tree? That's not too bad, I suppose. Alright, time to go chop-chop!" 

Reinvigorated, he began to go from one tree to another, cutting them down.

Two trees later, he was lying flat on his back, panting and covered in sweat. It turned out that he had to use Qi if he wanted to cut through the tree--rather, he had to use quite a decent amount of it. As such, he rather quickly ran out of his reserves, which just further reinforced his belief that he truly was beyond weak. After all, he highly doubted that other cultivators would have run dry of their Qi after chopping three trees--three rotten trees, by the way. 

"Haii," he sighed, waiting until he had enough strength to sit up and meditate and slowly recovering his Qi. "There's nothing easy in this world, is there? This is gonna take a while..."