7-9

Chapter 7: Life in the Sect

Whatever had transpired in the dream realm, it had seen Booker through the worst stage of his withdrawal. He was still itching, aching, and sweaty, but the worst of the violent shaking had passed and he could grip his alchemist's knife again. That was enough.

Opening the book in his mind once more, Booker examined his quests.

Quest: Repairing Your Life

Goal: Create a Seven-Times Purified Charcoal Pill and use it to repair your poisoned body.

Reward: Materials Box

Secret Quest: Tools of the Master (Complete)

Goal: Uncover a hidden use of Dialyze or Furnace.

Reward: Page of the Master's Book.

Quest: Craftsman's Aptitude

Goal: Create 10 (7/10) useful medicines.

Reward: Materials Box.

Quest: Taste of Heaven (Complete)

Goal: Create 5 (5/5) different useful pills.

Reward: Materials Box.

Quest: Martial Basis

Goal: Practice your martial arts for 10 (2/10) hours.

Reward: 1 Hour Practice Token.

Quest: Petty Ambitions (Complete)

Goal: Complete a Clan Assignment.

Reward: Dull Materials Box.

Seven-Times Purified Charcoal Pill…

The book seemed sure that his best path forward began with overcoming Rain's poisoned body and becoming a cultivator.

Booker hesitated. His master had told him bluntly what to expect from that life. Running in place, always striving for strength, competing endlessly. It wasn't what Booker aspired to in his new existence, but…

Being a cripple was a limit Booker wasn't ready to accept. The way people looked at him, his powerlessness, the ease with which a cultivator could ignore or humiliate him…

To protect yourself from cultivators, become a cultivator. What a world.

But…

Yes. Yes, I can't remain as I am now. Maybe if I left the Sect entirely I could put cultivation aside and live a peaceful life. But that would mean running out on Rain's friends and family.

If I want to stand strong, I should at least fix my body. In fact, nevermind cultivating, I'll probably die young if I don't get this poison out of me.

Mentally flipping open the book, he sought out the Seven-Times Purified Charcoal Pill and winced.

Oh damn…

It was an eight-ingredient mixture. Seven rare purifying herbs bound together with charcoal from a spirit tree. The only consolation was, those seven ingredients were fairly elastic. As long as they all had the Meridian Cleansing property, the pill would function.

So I'm looking for anything with the Meridian Cleansing trait…

A brief flip through the book told him this was easier said than done. The flowers and herbs that could cleanse someone of tainted qi were rare and expensive.

But on the plus side…

He was absolutely spoiled for rewards.

The first thing he was naturally curious about was the secret quest. As he focused on it, the book's pages began to flip, until it landed on something Booker had never seen before: a totally blank page.

Slowly, ink began to appear. It materialized in brushstrokes, slashing across the page with determination, and quickly drew a runic circle in the center of the page. Beneath this circle emerged text:

This is a Master Page.

Touch any article of craft, material, or tool, and this page shall teach you how to most gainfully make use of it. If you focus on a particular art or skill you wish to use, the book's instruction will make use of that art.

But only once, I'm guessing…

Still that's fantastically useful.

He had also earned three materials boxes, and only one of them was marked as dull, meaning the other two could potentially include far more valuable ingredients.

Focusing on the last quest, Booker held out his hand. A glow rose from his palm, motes of golden light drifting off his skin and forming into a solid outline. When the light faded, an ornate wooden box carved with dancing gods and demons was left behind. A rich medicinal scent broke free as Booker set it down and pried the lid open with his fingernails.

Inside were a collection of powder vials, fresh sprigs of herbs, muddy roots, and liquids in sealed ampoules.

One by one he took them out…

Black Eye Powder

Powder // Dull Quality

Extracted by burning prairie woods. Mixed with water and used by indigenous tribes to form an alchemical paste, with which they decorate their faces into war masks.

Effects:

Stimulant 10% (-)

Earth-Sea Spirit Blossom

Powder // Dull Quality

Grown only on delta islands formed by a river joining the sea, these rare flowers carry the blessing of both the ocean and the land.

Effects:

Qi Recovery 15% (-)

Red Mountain Moth Dust

Powder // Dull Quality

In the ancient times of poet-warriors, duels would be arranged on the Red Mountain, as they believed that a truly excellent fight would draw out the rare and spiritual moths that dwelt there, sparing the life of the loser.

Effects:

Wound Sealing (-)

The powders were all extremely valuable. Without a single negative trait, they could be used to trigger properties without any risk. But the Red Mountain Moth Dust was definitely the prize of the lot. Its trait was marked negative, meaning a single instance would activate it: he could more or less add the Wound Sealing property to any pill for an instant burst of recovery.

Next, the herbs.

Wind-Song Palace Razorgrass

Intact // Dull Quality

Growing in delicate, glass-like stalks, this tough grass is sharp enough to cut through skin with ease. When the wind rises, it cuts against the grass and produces beautiful, mournful music.

Effects:

Cultivation Boost 10% (Metal)

Cultivation Boost 10% (Sky)

Sharpened Perception 25% (+)

Toxicity 15% (-)

This was a new one to Booker, but his tome of medicine easily identified it. 'Metal' instead of a plus or a minus simply meant that metal had to be the dominant element, with more Metal properties than any other element.

Of course, this meant the razorgrass was naturally inert, balanced by its natural elements.

Spring Youth Blossom

Intact // Dull Quality

This prized herbal flower can be ground into a paste and applied to the skin. It both rejuvenates and cleanses the skin, and replaces the need for sleep, giving it the name spring youth.

Effects:

Beautification 1% (+)

Sleep Replacement 50% (-)

Mildly Addictive 10% (-)

Toxicity 20% (-)

It might have seemed like a loser since it was just beautification, but with Sleep Replacement, Booker felt he'd hit a winner. Sleeping less meant more time to his own devices, and more time to practice for his Martial Basis quest.

Damn.

And this is only the dull materials. I should be careful opening the other materials box: it could actually be too valuable and draw attention.

After all. If he was discovered with these materials on hand, who could ever explain it? The Sect would assume he was stealing and that would be the end of him.

What a wonderful problem to have: inexplicable wealth.

Now he took out the root from the bottom of the box. It was weirdly slimy, dripping a thick and sticky mucus that made Booker wince.

Ew.

Virile Root

Intact // Dull Quality

A root prized by wild bulls for its… stimulating effects. Hunters use trained steers to root out clusters, selling them to cultivators.

Fertility 25% (-)

Beast Taming (+)

Beast Cultivation (+)

Toxicity 20% (-)

Beast Taming, eh? That might be the best prize then, although I don't see many people around here with companion animals. And I don't have anywhere to keep a large animal…

The liquids were the last component.

Seven-Year Flower Syrup

Extract // Dull Quality

A common folk medicine produced by soaking flowers in sugar syrup for seven years.

Effects:

Alluring Fragrance (-)

Additional Effect: Reduce Toxicity by 5%.

Concentrate of Stone Lion Liver

Extract // Dull Quality

Produced from the organs of a mountain-dwelling stone lion, a powerful predator that consumes the power of earth.

Effects:

Body Strengthening 10% (-)

Additional Effect: Earth-Type Cultivation Boosts contained within this medicine also provide Body Strengthening equal to their full value.

Truly some fantastic things. If I could sell them, all kinds of problems could be solved. Booker thought to himself, swirling one of the small glass vials and watching sparks of light emerge from the blue substance within. Or better yet, if I could bring this medicine back to Earth. A cancer cure, nothing, we'd cure every disease.

But as for the present moment, he had to decide what to make.

Scratching his chin, he considered the possible combinations.

The Spring Youth Grass was doomed to produce a heavily toxic pill, because Booker was absolutely going to cut away the Mildly Addictive property instead. Rain's story was lesson enough.

Maybe then he should combine it with the Seven-Year Flower Syrup.

No… The alluring fragrance is actually dangerous. If people start smelling strong medicine in my room, it will attract thieves and investigations.

Instead, he chose the Black Eye Powder as a match. Stimulant and sleep replacement sounded pleasantly like coffee to him, although he was expecting more of a kick. Collecting the two ingredients together, he mixed them and held his palm out.

Furnace.

Flame surrounded the chopped stalks of grass and the fragrant powders, consuming them both. A small, black pill was born as the flames died out…

Spring Youth Blossom (Cut)

x

Black Eye Powder

=

Bloodshot Energy Pill (Dull)

6% Potency // 23% Toxicity

Effect:

Grants a burst of energy and alleviates the need for sleep. Repeat consumption can damage the veins in the eyes.

Next, he chose to perform a small experiment. Going out to the garden he collected Bloodred Drunkard's Vine, a useful herb with only a single negative, active property. He cut two lengths of the vine, and prepared them in two different ways.

Both, he cut to remove the Intoxication property. This meant carving away the outer layer of the vine, with its thick flesh and prickling needle-like hairs. For one length of the vine, Booker hacked and crudely chopped, ripping away huge portions of the inner flesh and leaving traces of the skin behind. For the other length he followed the book's instructions precisely, preparing it carefully and completely.

Both lengths he then combined with the Red Mountain Moth Dust, since he had enough for two doses.

Bloodred Drunkard's Vine (Cut)

x

Red Mountain Moth Dust

=

Mountain Recovery Pill (Dull)

6% Potency // 9% Toxicity

Effect:

A quality healing pill that suppresses wounds instantly and regenerates them over a brief period.

Bloodred Drunkard's Vine (Cut)

x

Red Mountain Moth Dust

=

Mountain Recovery Pill (Dull)

9% Potency // 4% Toxicity

Effect:

A quality healing pill that suppresses wounds instantly and regenerates them over a brief period.

When it was done, he grinned triumphantly. It was exactly like he'd thought – preparing the ingredients with attention and care had an effect on both potency and toxicity. It was small, but it was a reward for taking the time and following the process, instead of lumping everything together and using Furnace to roughly combine them.

Now for my final trick…

Cutting away the Skin Toughening trait from a nettle in the garden, he mixed it with Crow's Eye Berry. The result was absolute poison. The Crow's Eye provided a blinding effect, while the Nettle added toxicity, potency, and an allergic swelling. This wasn't a cure, but a weapon meant to disorient a foe.

As he combined the ingredients under his Furnace flame, Booker noted carefully the feeling of…

Not quite exhaustion, but a certain emptiness. As if he was being drained of something to produce the flame. The last time he'd tried this, five pills had been his limit. Now, after straining himself against the ghost, Booker felt he might be able to do more, but four was plenty.

Four is more than enough. I've got things to do today, no sense wearing myself down the bone.

And speaking of things to do…

His page of quests was updating.

Quest: Craftsman's Aptitude (Complete)

Goal: Create 10 (11/10) useful medicines.

Reward: Materials Box.

Quest: Wondrous Healing

Goal: Create a pill with a potency above 25%, a toxicity below 5%, and the Moderate or Great Healing property.

Reward: Materials Box.

Quest: Taste of Heaven (Complete)

Goal: Create 5 (8/5) different useful pills.

Reward: Materials Box.

Quest: Miracle Worker

Goal: Heal (0/5) other people of their sicknesses or wounds.

Reward: Karmic Pill.

Quest: Petty Ambitions (Complete)

Goal: Complete a Clan Assignment.

Reward: Dull Materials Box.

Quest: Sponsorship

Goal: Impress and befriend a ranking member of the Mantis Sect

Reward: 1 Hour Practice Token.

— — —

As he entered the cafeteria and waited in line for his burnt congee scrapings, Booker noticed the girl he'd spoken to before waving to him. Once his bowl was filled, he sat down alongside her, joining the cripples at their table.

"Brother Rain, you really like to fight, huh? Brother Heng says you came back all busted up." She said, tapping him on the shoulder with a mock punch. "Your master fixed you up right? But I bet he talked your ear off first."

"Ah, I didn't realize Master Ping was famous around here." Admittedly, Rain's memories contained almost nothing on the cripples. Like most people he'd looked right past them.

"Brother Rain, your master is an important man among us cripples. When we're hurt or sick, Elder Brother Ping is the one we all rely on, even if his lectures sting."

"I'm lucky to have him." Booker agreed. "And if anyone is hurt or sick, they can come to me now."

I guess my social status isn't too bad, for a cripple. An alchemist but a disabled one – the highest of the low.

"Ohhh, they've really picked well this time. You've got your master's honor." She laughed. "The last apprentice they gave to Ping, he wasn't a good match. He set half the alchemy labs ablaze!"

"Ah, Brother Rain?" A small, hunched man had made his way down the table to where they were talking. Like everyone here, he wore the brand of a cripple. "Ah, this might be an impertinent request…" He worried nervously.

Booker just waved his hand. "Then say it quickly– we're all together here."

"I need something to defend myself with. Some street thugs have been jumping me while I take the Sect's laundry to be cleaned." He was wearing deep bruises, purple and black, and he drew back the collar of his robe to show that they went all the way down his chest.

The girl winced. Booker winced too– those kind of bruises came from being on the ground taking hit after hit and hoping it would stop before you died.

Doubtful that they'd kill a member of the Sect. Even as cripples, we have authority. But nobody will care if a cripple is beaten only half to death.

"Here." Reaching into his bag he drew out a grenade shell he'd packed with blinding powders. "Light the fuse and throw it at them. I made the fuse myself – it will burn very quickly so throw it fast. Shield your eyes and run the other direction. They'll never bother you again."

He couldn't help but notice the entire table looking at him now.

"Er, Brother Rain…" Someone began.

"Ha, stop. I get where this is going." He held up a hand to everyone. "I'll be taking the Sparrow's Examination soon. When I do, as a graduation present, I'll make sure everyone here can defend themselves."

A large, burly man – the kind whose sheer bearish stature defied the word 'cripple' – laughed loudly. "Oh, could it be that our Brother Rain has revolutionary ideas? Handing out gunpowder to the oppressed! Cripples will rule the world!"

The entire table burst into laughter.

"Watch out, he's just trying to butter you up." The girl said peevishly, nudging Booker with her elbow. "He's the captain of one of our cuju teams."

"Oh? And you're on the other team, then?" Bookers asked.

"Of course! Where else do you think I've been trying to lure you all this time? We need a man like Brother Rain on our side." She said shamelessly, batting her eyes at him.

"What's your name, anyway?" Booker asked.

"Sister Mei, naturally."

"Sister Mei, you seem to know what's going on around here. Where does someone go to make money?" His mind was on the amulet. So far, the book had been his greatest ally. Getting ahold of some fraction of another book sounded like an incredible boon.

"I have just the thing. Brother Rain, have a look at this." She reached into her neckline and drew out a slender chain ending in a small glass coffin sized to be worn as an amulet.

Inside was a small, squirming blob of flesh. It had five thick tendrils covered in gulping sucker-rings like the arms of an octopus, and they grasped at the inside of the glass.

"Disgusting, I can't help but love it." At the center of the five tendrils was a grotesquely toothy little mouth. "But what is it?"

"Brother Rain is a man of taste." She said proudly. "It's a bottled spirit beast. You mix beast blood with your own, a little medicine, and leave it under the moonlight. Whatever grows, you pit against other beasts."

"For money?"

She nodded heavily. "For us cripples, it's not a bad past-time, and we can win a little coin off the proper disciples."

Booker lifted a clump of congee to his mouth, swallowed, and said, "How hard would it be to win one hundred liang?"

She blinked, once, then a slow grin crept across her face. "You really don't dream small. One hundred liang? If you absolutely swept the meeting, you might make one hundred."

"I'll keep that in mind."

— — —

That morning, the task for Rain as a deputy alchemist was the cleaning of large white gourds, Thunderbelly Calabash, that contained countless pale seeds suspended in a yellowish pulp. He cut open and scraped out one after another with a heavy knife, emptying the seeds into a slop bucket.

"Master," He asked, "when does the Sparrow's Examination begin?"

"Applications will be held at the end of the month." His master had a sharpened spade and was digging into the gourds, spilling their guts into a bucket. "I suggest you study at the library. Ruminations of the Grass was a particularly useful book to my last apprentice."

I wonder what happened to this last apprentice… Booker thought, but what he said was, "I'll be taking the exam as soon as possible."

The master looked at him for a moment, and then nodded, "Your skill is considerable. I give you my blessing."

Booker smiled.

For some reason, that meant something to him.

— — —

Booker had the afternoon free, and he was heading towards the main gate of the Sect to collect another request. The main gate was a broad and sunny courtyard where disciples sparred, bantered, and gambled. In the center stood a large banyan tree, covered in rope talismans to protect and anchor the luck of the Sect.

But as he was approaching the sunny, well-lit space by a shadowy corridor, a full disciple stepped into his path.

Instantly Booker's suspicions were alerted. The disciple was staring straight at him, instead of giving him the usual dismissive half-look the able spared the crippled.

In return, Booker dipped his hand into his bag casually, slipping his blinding powder into his palm. Only then did he lift his head and look back. Meeting eyes was a risky move, but he wanted to make it clear he would put up a fight if they caused trouble.

A shame I can't use grenades against fellow Sect disciples. Not without escalation...

But I still have the fighting pill I made.

"Huh." The disciple was tall and skinny-featured, with a stubble-strewn head and sharp eyes. He tilted his head up and sneered, jaw extended crookedly. "Some kind of beggar they make around here."

"Spare a pill for a poor cripple's cultivation, then, elder brother. Or are your pockets too shallow to be generous?" Booker fired back.

The man snorted. "Your uncle wants to see you."

"Is that all?" Booker could already guess why. Rain's uncle was a boastful and greedy man who had always resented his elder brother receiving the family amulet – now that Rain was marked as a cripple, he'd surely want to push him into handing over his inheritance.

Truly, Rain was so far down even inconsequential idiots feel they have the right to kick him. Shame...

"No. You met my eyes, you dog. You should be punished for that." His feet slid back into a martial stance, and the disciple lifted his fists.

And if I hadn't met your eyes, you'd beat me for ignoring you...

A pair of female disciples entered the hall at that moment, stepping out of a well-lit room. They glanced over at the pair of them and then burst out laughing.

The elder covered her mouth. "Really? With a cripple?"

The younger lifted a finger and chimed in. "Cut a switch and beat him if you must, but if you're going to pretend it's a fight, that's only embarrassing for you. What is he supposed to do?"

There was a world...

Booker imagined attacking right then and there. In his mind's eye he could see it. The moment the bald-headed disciple turned away to address the girls, Booker could throw the blinding powder and hammer him hard with a knee in the nuts.

It wouldn't be a smart move, but he could see in his head the image of the girl's surprise and the boy's humiliation.

Glorious, he thought with a smile.

"Elder sister, you give this little rat too much to smile about." The disciple spat bitterly, but abandoned his martial posture, waving a hand at Rain. "Run away, pest."

Booker dipped his head to the female disciples, who ignored him and looked at their nails as he retreated, as if they were embarrassed by the small charity they'd shown him.

Someday...

Rain would be full of somedays. Someday I'm going to flay him alive and bed both of those jade beauties. Someday I'll unleash my secret killing pressure.

But damn it's hard not to want to change those faces.

Seven-Times Purified Charcoal Pill...

You're really calling my name today.

— — —

Booker made his way out of the Sect, down into the city. The whole city was built in the shadow of the Sect's walls, following them as they curved around one half of the mountain. At the edges, the Sect was still being constructed, and the city with it. Day by day the forest was pushed back, the trees razed and ripped up from the earth to make way for the advancing walls.

It was a prosperous city but a new one. For every metropolitan dressed in elegant robes on the streets, there were three people from the outlying villages and communities, dressed in sheepskin clothing or rough furs, with beads and tassels hanging from their hair.

The market was absolutely bustling. People argued over everything, exchanging coin only grudgingly once they'd split every possible hair on the price. A nearby stall was piled high with baskets full of powdered, colorful spices, every rise of the wind stealing away the top of the pile and scattering it into a lovely haze of rich aroma on the air. Nearby, a knife-grinder worked at his whetting stone, and a candle-maker hawked wax statues of ancient and holy cultivators.

"Young sir! Young sir!" Someone shouted, trying to grab the attention of the holy man from the Sect. But as soon as Booker turned and they saw the brand on the hidden half of his face, they winced and apologized, waving him away.

He walked on, shaking his head. Soon he was at the pawn shop where Rain had traded away his last hope.

Stepping inside, he was greeted by the sight of shelves piled high with dusty treasure. Copper pots and pans were stacked alongside clay idols of foreign gods. Scowling masks hung on the wall.

He stepped up to the counter, where a young woman stood.

In the moment she looked up and saw Rain, something dark flashed in her eyes. Booker noted it, and he could guess what was up.

Rain hadn't bothered to haggle or negotiate at all. It was likely the store would want many times the selling price to buy it back…

But that was simply a price Booker was prepared to pay; if not today, then once he'd set himself up in the markets to sell his medicines.

"I want to reclaim my property." He said simply.

Her smile was totally insincere. "I'm sorry sir, I can't remember any such thing. In fact, I don't recall seeing you before."

Now this is unexpected. Goddamnit, they've already sold it.

His palm slapped down on the counter hard enough to make her jump, surprise flickering across her face. She clearly hadn't been expecting such aggression from someone marked with the cripple's brand.

"Listen carefully: you might think you've done something clever, but there are two roads before you. On one of those roads, I do everything I can to make trouble for you, and you end up paying the cost for what you've done. On the other road – you tell me exactly who you sold my property to, and I'm too busy reclaiming it to make a scene."

"T-the Gold Moon Auction House." She said, and without another word Booker turned and left.

An auction house? Dammit, that's the worst possible place it could have gone. Today is… He took a deep breathe and let out a long sigh. Today is what I make of it, but damn, it's making a mess of itself.

I just need to make money – money is the only kind of power a cripple is allowed.

And with my book, with Dialyze and Furnace, I can more or less print out medicines, making money hand over foot. I just need starting capital…

As he made his way towards the edges of the markets, the stalls gave way to tents of colored fabric, and then to hanging canopies of fur and hide. This was the foreign end of the market, where the sellers sat cross-legged on blankets and traded for herbs, pelts, and bone brought in from the forests.

"Young master…" A voice like a croak caught his attention. As he turned, he saw a very small, very old woman kneeling on a blanket, clothed in robes made of elk fur and hide. Numerous necklaces laden with red and yellow beads hung from her neck. Standing nearby were men Booker assumed to be her sons. "Stop a moment, and I'll show you a treasure."

With her gnarled hands she lifted up a long cloak made from strips of pure white fur. They were layered together like the feathers of a bird, and secured to the underlying shape of the cape by red glass beads.

"This is the Fleetfeather Cloak, a magic my grandmother taught to me when I was younger than you are now. I make only one every winter. The materials are nothing but common hides, but the magic underneath is strong." The woman said in her scratchy, creaking voice. "While you wear it, the wind will make your movements faster, and even bear you aloft for a few instants."

Booker… found himself interested, despite his own caution in spending money. The look of the thing was truly spectacular, enough that it might cause trouble for him if he wore it within the halls of the Sect. Can't have our cripples looking better than our cultivators.

Reaching into his pocket, he drew out a small bamboo vial. Inside were the two Saffron-Sunflower Cultivation Pills he'd earned by driving out the ghost.

I should really sell these. They'd get me halfway to a market license, but…

Let's do something a little risky.

"These are worth fifty liang. I see your sons are hunters: can you get me the blood of a beast? If you can, I'll pay for both."

One of the sons stepped forward, a man with a thick beard. "What kind of beast?"

"Something strong." Booker answered. "As strong as possible."

— — —

Booker returned to his room with the cape bundled under his arm. It had been an impulsive decision, but he was happy to own such a beautiful piece of magic. Real magic… He sighed. It's hard to get used to. This world… It's like my own in so many ways. But then sometimes you look up into the sky and remember there are people who can fly…

Swinging the door shut, he put down the cape and took out the other thing he had bought.

It was a length of pale bone, massive, that the hunters had promised came from an utterly enormous wolf the Sect had hunted down ten summers ago, ending its reign of terror over their village. Within the bone there was still likely some blood, and blood from the marrow was said to be especially potent.

Taking out his knife and a small bottle, Booker laid the instruments on the floor of his room.

Placing his hand atop the length of bone, Booker concentrated on the blank page, and thought, Teach me how to raise the strongest spirit beast I can, without needing cultivation.

The instructions written there disappeared, as if sinking under the rough-cut vellum of the page.

New words began to slash themselves across the paper.

Instructions on how to complete his wish.

Chapter 8: Prelude to a Duel

Step 1: With equal portions of blood extracted from a beast and your own hand, mix together in a vial. Best results can be obtained if the beast possesses a spirit root similar to your own.

The first step was cracking the bone, and that was harder than expected. In the end Booker had to borrow a hand-drill, a chisel, and a hammer from a nearby workshop, boring a small hole in the bone with the drill and using the chisel to widen it. Sweat dripping over his face, he smacked the hammer against the chisel's base until that first hole widened into a crack that split the whole bone in half.

"God! That was more work than it should have been."

But at the same time, the toughness of the bone only meant good things. It meant he'd definitely found the blood of a powerful and resilient beast.

The marrow inside, he pulled out with a spoon and squeezed, mashing it into a bowl until the blood ran free. It wasn't much – but he hoped it would be enough.

He slid the knife across his hand, wincing at the strange feeling. It wasn't pain, not at first, but the sensation of his skin splitting open. Pain followed soon after, as he squeezed his hand and dripped out the blood into a vial.

He poured them together, mixing an equal amount. It seemed like such a simple recipe at its base. Human and beast…

Did spirit beasts really spring up in the wild, anywhere the two mixed? This world must have many more beasts than humans. Perhaps an impossible amount.

Step 2: To strengthen the resulting beast, add alchemical reagents. Reagents of beast cultivation or a chosen element will lead to the strongest results; beware, however, that your own blood or the blood of the beast does not react negatively to the chosen elements. For beginners in this art, it is often suggested to choose to cultivate a toxic spirit beast, as any highly toxic ingredient will suffice and there are few disagreements between the toxic form and other spirit roots.

Be warned, however, not to add too much. A few high quality alchemicals will produce a healthy and hale beast; many alchemicals of poor quality will produce a powerful beast that is short-lived in the extreme, lasting only ten or so minutes after being unbottled. Five is a good number for a bottle-beast in a small vial, ten for one made in a large urn, and twenty for one concocted in a vat.

Hmmm…

As he pondered, Booker took out the Wound Closing Pill he'd made and ate it. It was actually the first pill of his own making he remembered eating; he'd been so out of tune when he'd devoured the Spirit Blossom Pill that he didn't remember any flavor at all. This one had almost no taste, but an overwhelming aroma of pine resin, beeswax, and woodsmoke. As he swallowed it seemed to dissolve into a flame of warmth traveling down his throat, unfurling in his belly so that his entire body flushed hot, as if he was a furnace in which the pill was stoking flame.

Miraculously, the wound on his hand healed and vanished.

"Incredible…" Booker flexed his hand and examined it for defects. Other than a faint line of pink where the wound had closed, there was no sign at all of the wound.

But what to add in?

The book recommends a toxic spirit beast because that's easiest to find ingredients for normally, but with two materials boxes to open, that might not be the case…

I suppose I'd better see what I have.

Holding out his hand, he summoned the remaining two materials boxes he'd yet to open. Summoning them inside the Sect was somewhat risky – but the truth was, Booker had thought this through and didn't see an easy route.

He could rent a room somewhere in the city, but if he did, there wasn't really an excuse he could give that wasn't nefarious somehow. Anyone who accepted his offer would know he was up to something, and it would only be a small leap from there to them examining his rooms and stealing away with his treasure.

On the other hand…

Being discovered by the Sect might not be a death sentence. At worst, he could confess to having a special method of creating materials, and survive that way. With so many rare materials in his room, some the Sect didn't even have access to, who could doubt him?

The real risk is they choose to keep me forever as a slave, but with the need to complete quests, I might be able to manufacture an excuse to slip away…

Booker caught himself drifting into improbable scenarios, shook his head, and focused.

As long as I find a good place to stash my ingredients soon, I should be fine. Spider is too afraid of me now to try anything again, at least until his bruises heal.

Lifting his hand, he summoned the first materials box. It appeared from the floor this time, a golden glow suffusing the floorboards before the small, ornate wooden box simply rose from beneath the ground, at the center of the golden patch of light. It was much larger than the dull box, nearly an arm's length long and reasonably wide.

As he pried the lid open, treasures gleamed inside. There were vials, satchels of powders, dried bundles of herbs, pressed flowers, and more besides.

He went through them quickly, not too interested in their normal alchemical uses. Tomorrow I'll tally it all up and make more pills. For now…

Booker only wanted to know what was useful for the creation of beasts. That meant the Beast Cultivation property, and any elemental infusions he could find.

Soon he had sorted the relevant ingredients into three piles:

The first pile was materials for Beast Cultivation.

Virile Root

Intact // Dull Quality

A root prized by wild bulls for its… stimulating effects. Hunters use trained steers to root out clusters, selling them to cultivators.

Fertility 25% (-)

Beast Taming (+)

Beast Cultivation 5% (+)

Toxicity 20% (-)

Fossilized Beast Manure

Intact // Dull Quality

Transformed over a thousand years from waste to a valuable commodity.

Beast Cultivation 15% (-)

Toxicity and Potency 15% (+)

Severe Nausea (-)

Potency 5% (+)

The second pile, and the largest, was heavily toxic ingredients.

Senescent Mandrake Root

Intact // Earth Quality

A shriveled root in the shape of an old man's face. Viciously toxic, this plant is also deeply virtuous, as it absorbs poisons from the soil and purifies the earth.

Poison Purging (+)

Lethal Poison 40% (-)

Toxicity and Potency 10% (+)

Toxicity 25% (-)

Basilisk Sap

Extract // Earth Quality

The last hint of sap from a petrified tree.

Toxicity 10% (Earth)

Additional Effect: This pill gains Potency equal to half its Toxicity. Then double Toxicity.

Beast-Bone Meal

Powder // Dull Quality

Powder made from grinding the bones of vicious beasts. Frequently used to bind together cheap pills.

Toxicity and Potency 5% (-)

Aged Bile Gland

Intact // Dull Quality

A bile gland filled with stinging nettles and allowed to rot, giving it a unique character of poison. Remote tribes cultivate this as a method of poisoning their arrows.

Necrotizing Poison 20% (-)

Foul Odor (-)

Lingering Poison 10% (+)

Toxicity 20% (-)

Additional Effect: Poison derived from this source is incredibly resilient to purging and curing effects.

The third pile was simply anything with an elemental bias.

Wind-Song Palace Razorgrass

Intact // Dull Quality

Growing in delicate, glass-like stalks, this tough grass is sharp enough to cut through skin with ease. When the wind rises, it cuts against the grass and produces beautiful, mournful music.

Effects:

Cultivation Boost 10% (Metal)

Cultivation Boost 10% (Sky)

Sharpened Perception 25% (+)

Toxicity 15% (-)

Azure-Sea Coral Dust

Powder // Dull Quality

Powder derived from coral colonies, harvesting the collected lifeforce of countless coral polyps that have contributed their petrified bones to the mass of the reef.

Cultivation Boost 10% (Water)

Blue-Fire Glassfruit

Intact // Earth Quality

A translucent fruit, the structures of pale blue luminescence within resembling a frozen candleflame.

Qi Recovery 20% (-)

Cultivation Boost 10% (+)

Body Strengthening 10% (Fire)

Fire Resistance 20% (+)

Looking at the three, Booker conceded the tome was correct. He would try for a toxic specimen on his first attempt; it was just easier and less likely to backfire, since he didn't know the elemental alignment of his own blood to begin with.

And if that's the plan…

He quickly discarded the bone meal as the cheap filler it was, and selected a mixture of Virile Root, Senescent Mandrake, Basilisk Sap, Bile Gland, and the fossilized dung.

But before he began, he steeped two particular ingredients into boiling water. Those were the Virile Root and the Fossilized Manure. Steeping was a way to reduce both the Toxicity and Potency of a medicine – in this case, Booker wanted to lower the Virile Roots Toxicity so it wouldn't match with and cancel out the Bile Gland, and he wanted to reduce the Manure's Toxicity and Potency to 10% so it would match and combine with the Mandrake Root.

After all, this isn't exactly medicine but the same principles should hold true.

Once he'd steeped the ingredients enough to reduce the properties by about five percent, Booker began to combine.

As soon as he added the chopped up Bile Gland, the dark red mixture began to turn a deep black. When he threw in the peeled Virile Root and the Fossilized Manure, it had begun to spit, sizzle, and bubble. He winced as he tossed in the Senescent Mandrake, watching its weathered old face disappear into the boiling black concoction. By now the mixture almost seemed alive, strings of sticky tar-like goo crawling up the walls of the vial like it was trying to escape.

It was only as he poured the preciously small amount of basilisk sap in that he began to wonder…

Did I overdo it?

The mixture was twisting and writhing at the bottom of the vial, a lumpish mass of primordial sludge that seemed to be trying to grow limbs. A bubble swelled and popped on its back, and a drizzle of smoke shot out that immediately made the air turn sour.

Grimacing, Booker shoved the cork into place.

Step 3: Inscribe the following characters in a circle around the decanter in which you've begun the process. Proceed to draw the next three characters in separate circles, surrounding the first at triangular points. Draw lines between these circles, then inwards to the main circle. As you do so, incant the words and clear your mind, focusing on the breath. This will create a gathering array that draws additional strength to your creature as it forms.

The instructions were growing more and more arcane, and Booker's head was dizzy from the toxic fumes he'd accidentally inhaled. Going to cleanse his face of sweat with water from the basin, he took out the energy pill he'd made, the Bloodshot Energy Pill.

It was already past midnight – this seemed like the ideal trial run for his new medicine. It smelled of chocolate and coffee as he chugged it down with water.

Instantly, the need for sleep tugging at his mind receded, and clarity washed into his soul. He felt bright and refreshed like he'd just slept for hours. At the same time, there was a kick, a sort of rising need to move, and he quickly found himself pacing around the room to burn the excess energy boiling up inside him. His whole body was flushed hot with the power of the medicine, leaving him to grin as he wiped away sweat.

"Strong stuff…"

Getting down to business, he dipped his fingers into an inkpot and began to write…

— — —

Before the energy pill wore off, Booker not only completed the gathering array, but spent four hours training alone, his straw sleeping mat rolled up and propped against the wall as his fists slammed into the padding. By the time he was done, he was so physically spent he couldn't even manage to roll the straw mat back out – he passed out on the floor, gazing at the gently-rattling vial in the center of the array. The glass had begun to glow faintly, filling up with a moon-like and gentle light that made the dark contents seem all the more sinister. Booker remembered being in science class, watching his teacher light up an egg with a flashlight so he could see the embryo's shadow within the reddish yolk…

Earth.

I'll probably never see it again.

Not unless I start taking Blue Heaven Pills.

Or maybe…

Maybe I will. Maybe if I cultivate, it won't be impossible. After all, even Rain could send his soul there – maybe it's just such an ordinary world cultivators don't bother to visit.

Should I be sad? Sad I left home behind?

Now that I look back… I never put down any roots.

Even here, I'm not truly rooted down. I like my master, and Sister Mei, Xan and Zu and Fen. I like them. But I wouldn't stay just for them, not if something was calling me in a different direction.

I guess I'm a tumbleweed.

Maybe my soul was just prone to traveling – maybe that's how I ended up here.

— — —

When Booker woke up, the bell was ringing across the morning sky. He cracked an eye open.

The vial was broken into shards. A black bile had stained the floor.

"Goddamnit." Booker scrambled up onto his feet, glancing around frantically. Had it escaped? Had it crawled somewhere and died?

He was so distracted, and the creature was so utterly still and calm, that he looked right past it several times before his eyes focused.

Standing on the windowsill that overlooked the yard was a small, stick-thin creature. It had delicate limbs, translucent like blue glass, and an arrowhead shaped skull with two dark eyes and pale white mandibles. A mantis. It was a mantis, roughly the size of Booker's palm. Its scythe-arms were of a different color than the rest of its sky blue body, the blades colored a pale translucent purple.

It tilted its head as he looked at it.

"Hey there." Booker said, in the calmest tone he could. "Can you… understand me? Give me a wave if you can."

The mantis lifted a claw and wiggled it.

"Wow…" He briefly hesitated, remembering that it was probably venomous beyond belief, but the creature was displaying no hostility. Slowly, Booker reached out his hand and let the mantis climb onto it. The beast was totally tame towards him; it seemed to enjoy being near him. "You're a beauty."

He lifted it into his bag, moving things aside and using a small clay pot to make a safe space for the mantis among the cluttered contents. "I need to get going, but we're going to find you some friends to play with soon."

It let out a strange sound, a kind of hiss interrupted by squeaks, chirps, and clicks in a rapid bubbling sequence.

"Oh you like that? You wanna test out those claws of yours?"

From within the jar, the mantis climbed up and stretched out its arms menacingly, showing off its long scythe-claws.

"Yeah, you're a fighter alright. I'm going to call you Snips."

Tucking Snips away, he made his way into the hallway, catching up to the breakfast crowd just in time before the doors of the cafeteria were pushed closed. It was a crowded space inside, countless people lined up for their ladleful of congee from the massive cauldron. Up to the rafters, where birds nested, the sounds of people gossiping and arguing could be heard.

Sister Mei sidled up to him as he looked for a place to sit. "How is the search for a spirit beast coming? Did Brother Rain find a good beast blood to work with?"

"I did. In fact…" He gestured to his bag. "I have my champion."

Snips, as if sensing he was being discussed, pushed his way up from under the flap of the satchel bag.

Sister Mei almost squealed. "Ah! Not fair! That's such a good spirit beast!"

Booker could only smile.

As they sat down, they were joined by an older cripple, a man with a deeply lined face speckled with freckles and moles from long days in the sun. He slid his tray over and sat himself down. "I hear you're interested in joining our game tonight." His voice was smooth with a creaking undertone that instantly commanded attention.

And Booker couldn't help but notice that unlike the rest of the cripples eating plain rice stew, the old man's congee had bacon, pickled greens, and an egg on top.

He chuckled, catching Booker looking at his treasures. "Privileges of seniority." But he picked up some greens and bacon and passed them to Booker's bowl.

"Oh? Good to know I'll be taken care of in my old age." Booker said, bowing his head gratefully.

"Someone tells me…" He glanced at Mei… "You don't intend to be around for that long."

Booker looked up from eating and glanced between the two of them, trying to calculate what had been said about him. I can be pretty sure Mei likes me. But she's not one to go blind with affection…

"I don't intend to leave the Sect." He answered.

"Ah, so you must intend to leave our company of the damned. That's a dangerous dream." The old man was prodding at Booker for some reason – maybe just to see what he did in response.

"There are medicines that can accomplish it." Booker explained calmly. "And I intend to find them."

"See, what I heard about you, before you came down here…" The old man drank from his cup, making no rush to finish his words. "Was that you were addicted to Blue Dream, and bad. Let it ruin your whole future. But that's not the man I see before me – certainly that's not a man who turns little Mei's head – and I'm wondering what I am looking at."

Ah. That's it.

He's protective of Mei.

"Well…" Booker shrugged. "When you hit rock bottom, you find yourself with nothing to do but think. And sometimes, maybe, you find perspective."

The man chuckled, his rich voice hitching up with snorts of laughter. "Well, we've certainly got perspective down here. We can see the whole mountain – we're just at the bottom."

"I guess I just think… Whatever I need to do, it won't get easier by waiting for tomorrow. Wherever you are, that's where you have to start living."

"Start living… I like that." He nodded, and Booker sensed the questions were over. "And that's a fine spirit beast you've got."

Booker glanced over to his shoulder. Snips had crawled out of the bag and was now sitting there, his brilliantly colored claws held aloft. Lifting a piece of bacon in his chopsticks, he watched as Snips grasped it in delicate claws and began to nibble. "Thanks."

"How confident are you it will win?" Mei asked.

"Very." Booker replied.

"Compared to most spirit beasts I've seen, it has a more defined shape, brighter colors, and a more delicately-formed body. All of these are good measures by which to measure a spirit beast's natural power." The old man opined.

"Delicate is good?" Mei asked, looking at her own spirit beast with a furrowed brow and pouting lips.

"Delicate means the magic used to form it was unusually good. Think of it like a potter forming clay. A bad potter can still make a thick and lumpy plate, but only a skilled one can produce a thin, light piece." The man continued to explain. Booker got the sense of grandfatherly patience from him when he talked to Mei.

"I've got a good feeling about Snips here." Booker said. And I dumped in a ton of herbs and reagents that nobody around here has ever heard of. If the Dull materials from the random boxes seem to be on par with what the Sect offers to normal disciples, then Earth-level materials should be something even a higher disciple, a true cultivator, would prize. If everything went well, this spirit beast should be a grade above the rest.

"Then I'm going to invite a few friends to the game. Cultivators. They're the ones with money to lose…" The old man had taken out a small book and was leafing through it, licking his fingers to turn the pages. He glanced up, sharply, blue eyes fixing on Booker as if daring him to argue. "But I'll be taking twenty percent as my fee."

"Twenty percent and we eat dinner somewhere better than this. My treat."

"Heh-heh. That's what I like to hear." By now breakfast was almost finished, and the tables were clearing away. Cripples were expected to clean after they ate, so they had a moment more.

"What's your name?"

"This old nobody? Chen Jie." Together they picked up their bowls and deposited them into the washing trough, then began to clean one of the novice's tables. Other cripples washed the bowls and swept.

"Then, Elder Brother Chen Jie, share a little wisdom. I've noticed my master doesn't eat with us. Where does he go?"

"Your master, as far as I know, doesn't eat breakfast at all. He spends his mornings gazing up at the mountain by the little pond by the orchards. But I wouldn't bother him if I were you. Some things are sacred, and I can't tell you why."

Booker simply nodded. Before they parted ways, Chen Jie said to him, "Meet us by the lecture hall in the eastern wing, about an hour before the bell rings for dinner."

"Just make sure your cultivator friends have a sense of humor." Booker said.

As they parted ways, he hurried towards the alchemy labs, lifting Snips off his shoulder again and hiding him in the jar. "Stay there this time – I don't want my master seeing you." He's too smart not to wonder where I got the ingredients for such a fine spirit beast.

In the hallways, Booker caught sight of Xan's broad back shouldering through the crowd. Hurrying up, he tossed a grin Xan's way. "Hey Brother."

"Rain! You look… You look a lot better, Rain." Xan said with honest concern and hope for his friend. "Is your master treating you well?"

"He is." Booker confirmed. "And I'm not out of tricks yet. Meet me by the lecture hall, I've got something going."

Xan nodded, and that was as good as a promise.

With that out of the way, Booker broke off and headed for the alchemy hall.

— — —

As he arrived at the alchemy hall, the smell coming from the pill furnaces filled the broad space of the workshop; the workshop was arranged in two tiers, with the workbenches and tables and jars of ingredients all along a wooden balcony that overlooked rows and rows of furnaces set on a stone foundation.

Today, alchemists in heavy protective gear used broad paddles to reach in and draw out the rows of pills being refined within.

Each pill was packed into a small weighted mold that would shape it into a perfectly round pellet. One by one, the alchemists cracked the molds open with chisels and the cultivation pills spilled out. Every third mold yielded, instead of a perfect saffron-gold pill, a messy spill of glittering black ash. The foul odor of spoiled pills mingled into the perfume of the completed articles, the base undertone of black earth and ash somehow making the aroma even sweeter.

It looks like it's all hands aboard today. Wherever he looked, the alchemists were busily sorting pills into large glass jars. And this is only the lowest-level workshop the Sect has…

"Rain." His master greeted him. "Come here. Today we're learning something that doesn't need skills with a knife – so your master finally has a chance to instruct you."

Stepping up to the table, Booker saw pills laid out on a small mat. His master picked up one in a pair of chopsticks and held it out. "Smell."

Leaning in, Booker inhaled the fragrance.

"Now, depending on the outcome of the furnace and the skill with which a pill was made, it might be of several qualities. There are devices that can test a pill's potency, but they are rare and valuable compared to the senses we are born with. If you can determine a pill's value by smell alone, you will have acquired a treasure every alchemist desires." His master explained patiently.

That makes perfect sense, but… The book will just tell me the quality…

Already the pages had started to flip.

Saffron-Sunflower Cultivation Pill (Dull)

2% Potency // 6% Toxicity

Effect:

A simple pill for the purposes of accelerating cultivation.

Ingredients:

Mountain Poppy Seed

Deepest-Color Saffron

Still I can't shine too brightly or it will be suspicious. I'd better flub this one.

"Is it… A good pill?"

His master snorted. "I'm amazed it isn't ash." But he seemed to be happy to have a chance to explain things to his apprentice further. "This was made by another apprentice as practice. If you examine the aroma, it has deep, earthy bitterness and a lack of floral complexity. These aren't things just anyone can pick out, however, and especially without experience. The best way to learn to judge a pill is simply to get it wrong, many many times."

"I'll get started, then." Booker said.

"That you will."

— — —

It was incredible how many pills the Sect really went through. Every disciple got one a month as a base stipend, and then more for completing requests. It meant that just this one workshop was responsible for nearly five hundred pills a month. The sheer volume of processing work placed on individual alchemists was immense. While Booker struggled along, purposefully suppressing the book's knowledge so he could attempt to guess the pill quality by his own merit, his master barely needed to look at a pill to sort it into one of the three jars. For every ten his master sorted, Booker was expected to sort one. Even then, without the book it was grueling and repetitive work.

After hours of meticulously sorting the pills, Booker was released, his head spinning with the deep and powerful aromas of the pill foundry. He paused only to switch into a new set of robes in his room, then hurried on towards the arranged meeting place.

The Mantis Sect's lower reaches were largely arranged as long rowhouses placed in a square, four each around an inner courtyard where plants and flowers grew. Larger buildings bridged the individual courtyard-squares together. Here and there, however, the Sect would open up, and there would be a large expanse of trimmed green grass, ornamental trees, and beautiful flowers growing in mandalas, with small pagodas scattered about for training and meditation. It was in one of these open spaces that the lecture hall was situated.

As Booker approached he saw a small crowd already milling about, and Chen Jie immediately broke away from talking with the other cripples to hurry over.

Booker could already tell what was bothering him – the crowd was larger than it should have been. Several well-dressed cultivators had arrived, and they stood together like a cohort of soldiers, looking out on the cripples with contempt. At the center of them was a handsome youth with long black hair pinned back by an ornamental needle, and sky blue robes.

"Our luck is poor, Brother Rain. We're going to have to chalk tonight up as a loss." Chen Jie said. "They've brought in some silkpants with a powerful beast. It looks like they plan to rake us over the coals, and it will go worse for any complaining."

Booker nodded. "I'm not worried. We have help on the way."

Coming across the green stretch was Xan, followed by Fen and Zu. As they arrived Booker gave them a small grin. "Are you ready to get drunk tonight, brothers?"

Xan snorted. "If you're ready to pay."

"Hmmm." Chen Jie glanced the three of them up and down. "Well, at least we won't have to worry about them being poor sports and forcing their way, but… How confident are you, Brother Rain? This silkpants will be bringing out a proper fighting beast."

Reaching into his bag, Booker took out the glass jar containing Snips. The mantis eagerly scrambled up onto the back of his hand. "So will I."

"Hmm." For a moment Chen Jie considered, and then he grinned. "Fuck it. Brother Rain, you're a man I'd like to bet on. I'll go take their money and we'll get this underway – I'll need twenty liang from you to get the pot started, but don't go in at once. Let Sister Mei work them into a mood to up their bet before you rake the money in."

"My master gave me a wound sealing pill in case I run into any trouble. That should suffice, right?" Booker wagered.

"Put me down for a bet. Ten liang on Rain." Xan added.

"Twenty for me." Fen bid.

Chen Jie nodded, and went over to the blue-robed cultivator, talking briefly and being passed a purseful of silver coins.

"Alright!" He called. "The buy-in is twenty, twenty liang to play. The rules are simple – no interference, the fight goes until one side calls for mercy or their beast is dead. We have a champion here among us, so don't step forward unless you mean business."

Sister Mei immediately stepped forward. "Me. I'll handle this rich boy." Taking the vial from around her neck, she allowed the ugly starfish-creature within to spill out, pouring the creature with its slimy body and flopping limbs onto the ground.

There was a chuckle from the crowd of cultivators.

As the blue robed boy stepped forward, he took out his own vial. Within was a dart-headed frog of a bright yellow color. As it hopped out, Booker saw that its back was covered in leathery craters, emitting steam like the caldera of a volcano. It let out a loud, boisterous blorp of a croak.

"Begin!" Chen Jie shouted, and the beasts rushed at one another. The frog took off with a long-legged leap, covering the ground of the dueling ring between the crowd's feet in a split instant. By comparison, the starfish had barely begun to move when the frog's arrowhead-shaped skull slammed into its center in a brutal headbutt.

The ungainly starfish was sent rolling back, limb flopping over limb. But as it did, it rolled with the momentum, gathering speed and beginning to tumble quicker and quicker. It pulled a wide turn and came rolling back towards the frog.

With a fleshy slap, its sucker-ringed tentacles grabbed hold of the frog and its toothy radial mouth sank a bite into the beast's shoulder.

In response the frog's throat sac billowed out, inflating into a yellow bubble and then–

Fire vented in jets from its back, exploding upwards in a spray of yellow-red flames. The starfish shrieked and let go, flopping backwards with fire clinging to its limbs.

In the blink of an eye, the toad's tongue shot out, trailing a brushstroke of flame through the air. It scythed through two of the starfish's limbs, cutting them clear away and ripping the beast in half.

Mei screamed and dove forward, grabbing her beast and pulling it out of the ring. She moved so quickly she must have burned her hands, because the beast was still smoldering.

"Is it okay?" Booker asked, laying a hand on her shoulder as she forced her way through the crowd surrounding the dueling ring. But as she turned and he saw her face, it wasn't tears but a cheeky grin she was wearing.

"Ohhhh, Brother Rain is so concerned..~" She teased. "But don't worry. My beast isn't strong, but it can grow back anything it loses. When it comes to playing bait, there's none better."

Booker snorted. Serves me right for underestimating her. What an actor!

As he made his way back to the ring, Chen Jie was calling. "Someone, come on, step up. This young master didn't come all this way to watch you mill about – and don't forget, you're giving up your stake if you don't put up a fight. Surely someone has the backbone?"

"Oh, save the theatrics old man. I'm no mark." The boy called out, his face flush with a victorious smirk. He pointed straight towards Booker. "This is the one you're waiting on, right? He's the one who's supposed to beat me."

Shit. He's got us. Guess I'd better match confidence with confidence.

Booker shrugged, stepping forward. "That's right. I'm the one. All I'm waiting for…" He let Snips climb up onto the back of his hand. "Is for you to double down."

"Double?" The boy laughed gleefully, but his eyes remained cold and hard. "How about… Triple? Sixty liang on this match, on top of the pot."

"Sounds good to me." With a wave he sent Snips gliding down on buzzing, translucent-purple wings, landing on the floor of the little dueling ring. The frog hunched up, burping smoke as it sensed the approach of a new challenger.

Through the crowd, Booker caught Chen Jie's gaze, and nodded. The old man stepped forward and shouted,

"Begin!"

Chapter 9: Candleflame

Without hesitation, the frog oriented itself to attack, bracing its long legs and flat body against the ground. Snips stood perfectly still, not moving a muscle.

"Ha! It's terrified!" One of the blue-robed boy's hangers-on shouted.

But that couldn't have been farther from the case.

The frog's tongue burst out, trailing sparks into the air as it shot for Snips like a whip of flame. It lashed horizontally through the air, carving a wide sweep of brilliant yellow-red fire.

And Snips simply jumped, wings expanding into a halo of purple, blue body leaving a brilliant azure trail on the sky as it went straight over the attack, scythe-claws raised for a piercing strike.

The frog, sensing death, chose to dive headfirst. Tongue still trailing out the side of its mouth, it kicked off with its mighty legs and slammed into Snips with a brutal headbutt. The two of them went tumbling across the ground, and the frog's throat billowed out, throat sac inflating an instant before fire vented from its back. Its rolling tumble became a wheel of flame.

But once again, Snips had already escaped, flying backwards from the impact and landing on the edge of the ring.

The frog was bleeding. There was a massive cut down its side, left by the first collision.

Man, these duels are bloodier than I realized. Booker shook his head. I guess I was imagining it like a videogame, but this…

This is brutal.

The frog's tongue flashed out. Once. Twice. Thrice. It chased Snips along the edge of the ring, but no matter what it tried, Snips was always too fast. Those buzzing wings didn't even seem solid, a blur of crimson-purple vibrating behind the insect's skinny body as it wove out of the way again and again.

In a few seconds, the fight broke into total chaos. Snips was everywhere, and flames washed wildly across the space, novices and cripples yelping as embers landed on their feet and legs.

Until…

Snips had fully crossed to the far side of the ring, where the blue-robed boy was standing. "Pathetic!" He laughed. "All it does is run!" But there was a nervous look in his eyes. Snips dodged once more, feinting back, and he suddenly lifted up his foot to stomp down.

"Snips!" Booker's calm snapped in an instant, and he shouted out.

He needn't have worried. The mantis dodged aside easily, flickering out of the foot's path. But as he did, the frog sensed its moment and lunged forward, head bent down for a skull-bruising impact. Already in motion, Snips didn't have time to alter his trajectory and dodge.

Instead he landed, dropping to the ground, bracing all four of its legs, and lifting his claws into an 'x' to defend.

The frog slammed into that guard–

And was stopped dead, Snips barely skidding back a half-inch at the impact. With a casual flick of his claws, it sent the frog spilling over onto its back. Without mercy, without even a flicker of hesitation, Snips lunged forward and lifted up his scythes, driving them down towards the exposed belly.

The frog managed to squirm onto its back and kick away, but in the process it exposed its long, powerful legs.

One flash of the scythe-claws and one of the frog's legs was gone, leaving it to crash to the ground at the end of its jump.

"What!" The blue-robed boy hissed. His coterie of thugs had gone deathly silent. "How did your puny bug block that blow!"

I guess I won.

The wound on the frog's side had ceased to bleed. No live, healthy red was spilling out. Instead, the edge of the wound had turned a swollen and ugly purple-black, and almost seemed to be turning liquid. It's entire body was starting to necrose – to rot while still alive.

From that first blow, the fight had been decided. Snips had simply retreated to wait out its enemy's inevitable death.

"Let's call the duel here." Booker said, stepping forward.

"Are you kidding! This stupid thing cost me five hundred liang! It can at least die fighting." A furious scowl on his face, the blue-robed boy kicked at the frog. "Come on! Get up and fight!"

The frog let out a defeated croak, but lifted itself into a three-legged stance, still refusing to give up.

What a bastard… Booker gritted his teeth. What a complete psychopath. But maybe there's a trick I can play…

"Snips, go easy!"

With a slimy flash, its burning tongue whipped out towards Snips. But it was a weak attack. The flames burned a low green instead of the usual yellow-red brilliance. Without even bothering to dodge, Snips whipped his claw through the air. It would have been trivially easy to slice the tongue in half, but instead, Snips merely knocked it aside with the back of his claw.

"Useless!" The boy snapped, but it really was over now. The frog slumped down and let out a defeated croak.

"You can afford to buy a better one, I'm sure." Booker responded, as calmly as possible. But I have to play this carefully. I'm outnumbered and in for, at best, a beating if things go sideways.

"Oh, you think you're smart, huh? Well, let's see if you can afford your arrogance!" The blue-robed boy advanced, and Booker reached for his bag, slipping the vial of blinding powder into his palm.

"You." Xan stepped forward, towering over the boy. "Watch your mouth, squirt. Getting cocky has already cost you, huh? Hand over the silver and take yourself somewhere else, because we've got no time for poor losers."

"Are you too stupid to count! There are seven of us!" At the hint of a threat to their leader, the whole crowd of cultivators tensed. Fen and Zu stepped up alongside Xan, but all of their eyes had a nervous edge.

Definitely too many to fight.

"Brother, see reason. Didn't you just say that beast was worth five hundred liang?" Booker intervened. "If you rush to the infirmary now, you might save it's life and save yourself five hundred. What's the point of fighting here over a sixty liang bet?"

"You think I want this trash?" The boy turned back towards the frog, lifting his foot to crush it.

"Stop that!" Booker shouted, stepping forward. "Fine, if you don't want it, then I'll buy it from you. Sixty liang is enough for a toad with three legs."

The boy sneered for a moment, but he was calming down. His rage was leaving his veins, and he was cooling off slowly, letting embarrassment at this situation creep in. There were no good resolutions; if he hesitated in getting it care the frog would die, and if he rushed off in defeat, he'd lose face.

"Very well. You can pick my trash off the ground and pay me for the privilege." He snorted. "I'm leaving this dismal place."

You can spin it however you want. You lost – and you doubled down, losing a spirit beast worth five hundred liang instead of just sixty. Your pride makes you easy to play.

Booker waited for him to turn, then rushed to scoop the frog off the ground. Snips had flown up to his shoulder and gazed down in confusion as its master fed the beast a Mountain Recovery Pill.

Xan was grinding his teeth. "Ooo, I want to feed that bastard a brick and make him bite down." He leaned over his shoulder. "Will it live, Rain?"

Booker nodded. "Not only will it live, it will fight again."

That sucker.

"Brothers and sisters, forgive me, I have to go." He said to the collection of people who remained in the little courtyard. Chen Jie and Xan nodded, and he began to run, sparing no haste in rushing down the halls and weaving past other disciples as he headed back for the safety of his room.

— — —

As soon as he slammed the door shut behind him, Booker pulled out the chests, which he'd hidden behind a loose bundle of clothes in hopes of disguising them from casual visitors. Nothing a determined thief wouldn't spot, though…

He lay the beast down in the center of his gathering array, which he hoped would do something to help it recover. Placing his hands around its body, he murmured, "Dialyze."

Crystal water flowed in droplets through the air, accumulating into pearl-sized spheres that flowed together into beautiful, diamond-clear rivers. From these rivers a galactic wheel was formed, a spiraling flow that washed the poison free from the frog's wounds in clumps of vile black material that flaked away as the water coursed over it.

Not satisfied, he reached into the chest and took out a spray of herbs with the Poison Purging property. Crushing them up roughly with the edge of his knife on the floor, he swept the resulting green paste into his hands, sprinkled in a satchel of beast bone meal for a binding agent, and closed his palms around the rough mixture.

"Furnace."

Blue fire blazed within his hands, venting out between his fingers. When he opened them, a dark pill was nestled in his palm.

Incredible. Just like that…

How many alchemists would give half their fingers for this ability.

He reached down and coaxed the frog to swallow another medicine. This time, rather than weakly gulp as Booker held the medicine to its lips, the frog's tongue actually shot out and seized the pill. Booker smiled; that could only be a good sign. The frog's throat bulged out as it gulped, and then it began to struggle forward, getting up onto its feet. Steam hissed from the vents on its back.

"You're a fighter, alright." Booker praised. It leaned forward and vomited a curdled black mass, which began to inch across the floor, squishing and expanding itself like an inchworm trying to squirm away. Booker grimaced and reached for something to smash it with, but the pollution was actively burning away, an almost-invisible white flame surrounding it and eating in from the edges until only a trail of ash remained.

Then the frog flopped onto its side, exhausted, and closed its eyes. Only the slow rise and fall of its breath assured him it was still alive.

That and that Snips seemed outraged.

"Hey…" Booker said, and the little mantis actively hopped further away from him, flying off his shoulder to land on the desk. "Don't give me that. This little guy's worth five hundred liang! Sure, he's a bit scuffed up, but I can fix that."

And even if it costs me medicine, well, its medicine I can't sell.

Medicine I can't sell into a spirit beast I can.

That's got to be a bargain worth taking, right now.

But Snips refused to be persuaded. The little mantis reared up, flailing his claws at the air.

"Fine, fine. We'll find you something else to fight, I promise. And I won't make a habit of stealing prey from you, either." Long term… I can't spare every beast we fight, and that's a fact of life. The stars just happened to align to make saving this one… profitable.

But that logic didn't sit entirely right with Booker, even so.

When he looked into Rain's memories, he saw a dangerous world. Some might say a bad one. Human life simply didn't hold much value, because the cruelty of the elements, the native beasts, and the constant plagues all conspired to keep its price low. Cultivators in particular walked a road where it was dirt cheap. If you valued others' lives as much as your own, you would be the first to die.

That was a fact, and one he knew he needed to harden his heart to. A cultivator – a true cultivator – would have saved the frog only for the profit he could make selling it on.

Booker had done so out of pity first, and with profit a distant second.

He tucked away his medicine boxes again, once again reminding himself to seek somewhere safer to hide them. Leaving the frog with a spoonful of water and a small beetle he plucked from the windowsill, he stepped back outside the room, Snips riding on his shoulder.

Fen was standing in the corridor.

"Oh." He paused. "Is everything alright?"

"Rain." Fen said. "Unless I'm mistaken, and I'm not, you've changed recently. Just when you should be at your lowest, you walk like you could drag the world behind you."

Fuck. I guess there's no escaping it – me and Rain are different enough that even my posture is a hint that something's changed.

But Fen wasn't done speaking. "Unless I'm mistaken… you've encountered some life-changing luck."

Damn damn damn. Despite preparing for this since he arrived here, Booker felt the first strains of panic rising in his heart. "I guess I realized I wasn't living the life I wanted. And whatever my circumstances were, however far down the mountain I was starting, the only way to reach what I wanted was to start climbing."

It was true enough for him to say with confidence; there was a world where Rain had woken up and changed his life for the better. Booker was simply living that life on his behalf.

"Luck only comes to the determined." Fen agreed. "But you can relax. I'm not here to steal from you, Rain. I've… had my own encounter with fate."

Oh. Ohhhhh.

Is this good? He doesn't suspect that I'm not Rain, not at all.

But he's on the trail of the book.

"I might have encountered some luck, that's true." No sense in denying it. If things are going to keep turning around for me, he'll only double down on his suspicions. "But it's more a change of attitude."

"See?" Fen smiled. It was a soft smile, and one that reminded Booker that this was Rain's friend. No matter how vicious the politics of the Sect were, he wasn't about to coldly turn on his long-time companion for a chance at treasure. Now, if only I was actually Rain, I'd have nothing to worry about. "That's what people who haven't been blessed, don't understand. There are some fortunes you can only meet with gratitude. Just the generosity of what you've been given, compels you to use it to truly follow your dreams."

"It's…" Booker bit back the first evasion that came to mind. No, that's the wrong move. Not just in terms of escaping suspicion, but in terms of making an ally. If I'm in this position… I can escape by not trying to escape. "I wish I could share the perspective my luck has given me, but I'm a little busy hiding it, I suppose."

Fen smiled more broadly at that. "I know what you mean, and that's why I'm here. That disciple spotted you right away."

"Yeah, he did. And so did you." Booker paused, and blinked. Hold up. I was so busy panicking I didn't even question it, but how did they both spot me?

"One answer: martial intent. A true cultivator can kill simply by wishing to kill, because the will is the divinity of the soul. Your will is growing strong enough that you have first-stage martial intent, and any disciple will be able to spot it. The other cripples have all lost their divine will, so you stand out." Fen held up a finger. "But we can change that."

He turned and walked down the hall, leaving Booker to trail after him in confusion.

They moved to the practice hall, and took one of the private meditation rooms off to the side, where the only furnishing was a small table with a candle. Fen lit that candle with a touch, fire leaping off his finger.

"Sit down. Center yourself." He instructed.

So this isn't some strange interrogation tactic. He's just… helping me…

Booker's relief manifested as a small smile as he sat himself down. He almost asked directly how Fen managed to do that candle-lighting trick, but he restrained the question – the answer probably required being a cultivator first.

"Close your eyes. As you breath, hold back slightly. Never fully exhale, never fully inhale. In your mind, slowly wash yourself clean of desires. Imagine each breath as a wave washing into your body and taking away some of the trash and debris of the mind – the things you want, the things you covet, all the anger, all the pain." Fen spoke in a slow monotone. The rhythm of his words became hypnotic.

Booker tried to follow along, steadying his breathing into a perpetually-interrupted rhythm and letting his mind vacate itself, leaving behind everything but the few thoughts that remained scratching at the back of his skull. Those, he tried to wipe away, but they persistently returned.

What if that silkpants comes back to cause trouble for Chen Jie and the rest?

What if Fen is only luring me into letting down my guard?

And beneath them all, something that had been growing.

Who killed that child and put them in the wall? Are they still out there? Will it happen again?

"Extend your hand and move it over the top of the flame, swiftly enough not to be burned." Fen instructed and demonstrated. As his hand passed over the flame it remained oddly still, a static teardrop of blue nested within a teardrop of red, as if the wind and motion of his hand didn't move it at all.

Booker nodded and mimicked the gesture. As his hand passed through the heat of the flame, the fire immediately bent and flickered, blue and red blending together as it toppled over from the wind and then reformed.

He stared at his hand in concentration, and tried again to the same result.

"It isn't the movement that matters. This is a qi flame. As long as your martial intent is suppressed, it won't bend at all." Fen explained. "But don't be surprised if it takes time. I learned this technique when I was six, and it took me the better part of a year. As an adult? You should be able to do it in less than a month."

Booker nodded. "Thank you. I guess I didn't know about… Well, I didn't know any of this. I probably would've walked around standing out like a sore thumb until you told me."

"It's really nothing. This is just a technique the hunters from my clan used to pass unseen." Standing up, Fen added, "The rest of our friends are already on their way to Demon Long's teahouse. Stay and practice if you want, but come sooner rather than later, or Xan will drink all the wine again."

"I'll follow you in a bit. I just…" Booker grinned. "Hate to leave something unfinished."

"You're unlikely to grasp it in an afternoon, but…" Fen paused at the doorway. "It's not unheard of. Legends speak of children who are born knowing divine will."

"Ha. Then I'm a few years behind already."

As Fen closed the door and left, Booker ran his hand over the flame once more. And again. And again.

The heat licked at the underside of his palm, but the flame continually warped and danced with the slight disturbance of his hand, bending around the disruption of the air. He concentrated. Pushed his thoughts clean, except for the lingering doubts that refused to be cleansed.

What if –

What if –

Who –

They reverberated through his mind. Since he arrived here, pressure had slowly been building on him. The pressure of lying constantly, concealing himself, and the simple day-to-day troubles of Rains existence, the merciless way disciples treated those beneath them – it was filling up his heart.

A cultivator had an answer to these questions:

If the silkpants comes back to cause trouble, I'll kill him.

If Fen is setting me up, I'll kill him.

Whoever it is – I'll kill them!

But that wasn't Booker. If his heart would someday be hard enough to kill without hesitation, it wasn't today. And he needed answers that reflected him.

How do I solve this then?

If that silkpants comes back to cause trouble for Chen Jie and the rest…

"Hey…" Booker cracked an eye open from his meditative stance. He glanced over to the mantis on his shoulder. "Snips, you're a hunter right? So… You know how to sit and wait for prey… Could you follow the other cripples and make sure they're safe?"

The mantis wiggled its claws, then took off and buzzed around the room before returning.

"I'm going to trust that's a yes…" He said as it landed. "Come find me if they're in trouble."

As for Fen…

I don't really know Fen. Or, Rain never really knew him. He keeps to himself – I think this would be the most he'd ever opened up to Rain.

But it doesn't seem like he'll betray me to the Sect. That would already have happened. If it's anything, he might be plotting to find out what my treasure is – in other words, he suspects I have something like the book, and wants to lure me into revealing it.

I want to trust him, honestly. I don't want to be suspicious of everyone, but at the same time, I have to guard my secret…

There's no guarantee – in fact, it's unlikely – he'd be my friend if he knew I wasn't really Rain.

Booker rested his head in his hands. Underneath these questions, which seemed endless, there was one question, which he could answer.

When will I stop lying about my identity?

Because until I do, I won't be able to trust a single person.

At first it had seemed easy to slot into Rain's life, and avoid leaving everyone with the impression Rain had vanished in shame after being branded a cripple.

Now he realized he simply couldn't live with the pressure of living two lives. It wasn't in his nature to lie.

But he could give Rain some kind of triumphant ending, then disappear…

Yes, that might do.

As for Fen… He actually gave me the key to trusting him. He said he'd encountered 'life-changing luck' as well. Meaning some kind of treasure or blessing like my own.

We actually know the same amount of each other's secrets – we both know the other has a treasure, but not what.

I'll take that as a peace offering, but just in case, I'll make sure never to show off my other powers around him. Not unless he does first.

As long as he carefully managed how much Fen knew, there was no threat – turning Booker over to the Sect would just endanger his own secrets. And who knows? Maybe this was the bridge to a true trust between them.

As for the last…

I promised to my master I'd wait to investigate.

But I met those three scam artists. They can investigate for me. I don't think they're very competent, but they should be able to follow simple instructions. As long as I don't expose myself to danger, the letter and the spirit of my promise can survive.

Yes.

The reality of my worries is – why worry about what I can solve?

As long as I act with forethought, act as honestly as I can, and keep my promises, I'll have nothing to worry about.

I might have to resort to violence… if the silkpants comes after me, I definitely will…

Fuck it. If it comes to that, I'll really kill the bastard and try to leave no witnesses.

But in a situation where I can reasonably avoid killing, I will.

I might still become a cultivator – but I refuse to accept the logic of needless murder.

The more he resolved these questions, the more easy he felt, as if weights were being lifted from his breathing. It became easier to control the air within his body, and he started to feel something moving within him, like a musical chime resonating throughout his flesh and bone with each breath inwards.

The candle's flame was as straight as a razor's edge.

He waved his hand over it.

It bent, but far less than before. Where before it had nearly toppled over and had to twist back up, now it only shivered faintly.

Booker laughed faintly. Some part of him had really believed he was going to be one-in-a-million and instantly grasp the technique that took others months. But this, this was still excellent progress.

He smiled as he snuffed the flame out.

— — —

When he joined the others at the tea house, the party was well underway.

Xan had a maid sitting on his lap, his big arm wrapped around the back of his chair as one enormous hand cupped her waist. She was pouring him wine, while two others doted on Zu, who finally looked like the prince he dreamed of being with a woman on each arm. It was a scene of hedonism and luxury, and the cripples, while the girls ignored them, were happy to drink wine and enjoy the laughter of the moment. Booker smiled at the scene.

As soon as they saw him, the whole crowd lifted their bowls and cheered. Even the quiet Fen, sitting at the back with his own jug of wine, lifted his cup and mouthed something Booker couldn't hear above the noise.

Sitting down, Booker was quickly swept away by the happy chatter, listening to how this disciple had offended this elder brother and was due a beatdown, how this duel had ended in disgrace for this young master. While the disciples told stories of honor and combat, the cripples had their own gossip full of the countless things they witnessed while serving menial tasks, about this jade beauty trifling with a young man's heart, these students creeping away to pursue a secret romance, and many other things.

I should have realized – if I want to know more about Fen, I just need to ask. I have many brothers and sisters in the cripples, and they're surely used to trading information about the people they serve.

In fact, at that moment Chen Jie was sidling up to him, sprawling drunkenly onto a cushion besides Booker.

"Excellent treatment." He said with a tone of barely-restrained laughter. "We can only hope to party like this every day."

"When one is in good company, every day's a party." Booker noted with a smile. "How much am I paying for this?"

"Nothing! Your princely friend," he nodded towards Fen, "is showing us his generosity. This much wine would have sent you straight back to poverty. No, your winnings are safe from us greedy guests. It's only eighty liang, because that bastard scared most everyone else out of chipping into the pot, and minus sixteen for my fee… But if I know my spirit beasts, that frog you scooped up should be back to health and ready to sell soon. Regrowing limbs only takes a few weeks for a monster."

"You know a lot about spirit beasts." Booker said.

"I've had a lot of time to learn." Chen Jie chuckled. "A lot of time spent betting on horses, monsters, men. You learn to pick a champion when you see one…"

Booker just sipped his wine, taking the small purse of coins Chen Jie offered. Inside were ten-liang coins shaped like tridents, split into three clumsy prongs with rough edges where the mint had formed the molten metal. On each fork was a single character.

This is the start of a fortune. Booker promised as he tucked it away. But what he said was, "Brother Jie, you seem like a man who's chased his fair share of dreams. Did you ever search for a medicine that could cure a cripple."

"Heh. Of course I did – plenty of us have. I can only tell you where not to look. The forests and valleys near the Mantis Sect are crawling with foragers. For such a rare thing, you would have to venture far afield, to somewhere perilous enough that treasures can go unnoticed."

As they talked, Chen Jie leaned over drunkenly and began to scratch Snips on the head. After a few moments of crooning nonsense to the spirit beast, he simply fell over, snoring. Snips scrambled down his arm and up onto his shoulder, then turned to wave his claws at Booker.

"I see, I see. You're truly doing a good job of protecting him."

— — —

He stumbled home drunk, and immediately noted the frog was no longer in the circle. It had moved to lie on top of the spare clothes he'd covered the medicine chests with, guarding them like an obedient dog. Although its eyes were closed its breathing was steady, and Booker noticed the stump of its severed leg had a strange cap of new flesh, a lighter color than the rest of the frog's skin; he couldn't be sure but he thought it was the product of a slow regeneration.

Slumping into his bed, he stared up at the ceiling for a moment.

Today, I came up with my own answers. Tomorrow, I'll put them into practice.