Unintended Cultivator

Sen took a little time to review the basic thrusts he’d taught Wang Bo and Dai Bao with the newcomers, before turning most of the gathered townspeople over to grizzled man. Sen focused most of his time and attention on the newest or most hopeless people, which included Li Hua. Of course, her main impediment was that her gaze constantly wandered the entire place in search of her daughter. Sen had finally picked a corner, raised a small enclosure that was about a foot and a half high, and all but filled it with shadow balls. Liu Ai and Li Zhi had immediately lost interest in anything the adults were doing. The little girls’ screams of delight carried over the townspeople as they practiced. With the question of where her daughter was now firmly answered, Li Hua became much more focused on the task at hand. Unfortunately, whenever Sen’s gaze rested on her for more than a few moments, she became self-conscious and fumbled the spear. Suppressing a moment of frustration, he walked over to her. She met his eyes, briefly, and then found something on the ground to focus on.

“I’m going to be looking at you a lot,” said Sen. “And yes, I will be judging you. It’s the only way to know what kind of help you need. If you can’t focus when I’m looking at you, how will you focus when there’s a thirty-foot snake closing in on you? Or a storm hawk swooping down on you with lightning on its wings? Or a bear-cat the size of a horse leaping at your child?”

Li Hua’s eyes shot up to his face again, and she grimaced. “I haven’t been a student in a long time. I forgot how humiliating it is to be terrible at something.”

Sen gave her an amused smile. “Do you imagine that I was any better the first time I picked up a spear? Or even the fiftieth time? Everyone starts right where you are now. That’s as true for cultivators as it is for mortals. That’s why we train. That’s why we practice.”

“Do you still practice?” she asked.

“I do.”

“Will you show us?”

“I hadn’t planned on it. I mean that I don’t know that it would do any good. I’m trying to teach you to fight spirit beasts, not do what I do.”

Sen could see the confusion on the woman’s face before she even said the words.

“I practice to prepare for fights with other cultivators. I practice to kill people.”

Li Hua seemed momentarily lost for words. She just stared at him like she was seeing him for the first time all over again.

She grimaced again and said, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s a hard world,” said Sen absently as he looked around at the townspeople.

They were not inspired. Even the ones working hard wore expressions that told Sen they wouldn’t last for long unless something changed. Perhaps that’s for the best, thought Sen. He had excelled because, at the end of the day, he wanted to excel with the spear. He wanted to be good if not the best. Uncle Kho likely had that position tied down hard for the foreseeable future, much as Master Feng owned jian mastery. It wouldn’t be a tragedy if these people didn’t want to pursue true mastery. Simply imparting the basics would give them a fighting chance against most spirit beasts if they worked together. On the other hand, mused Sen, maybe Li Hua has a point. They had only seen Sen fight the one spirit beast using a new, jian-centered qi technique. Seeing that he actually knew what he was doing with the spear might serve a purpose after all. Even if it only instilled a sense of confidence in the people about what they were learning, that had value in and of itself. He gave Li Hua a thoughtful look that seemed to make her very nervous.

“You should stick close. You’ll want a good view of this,” said Sen.

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He didn’t make a big show of it. Sen just walked over to Dai Bao and asked to see the spear the man was holding but not currently using. Walking a short distance away from everyone, Sen acted as though he were simply examining the spear for problems and imperfections. In reality, he wanted the spear to force himself to keep things at mortal speeds. If he applied his true strength and speed with a mortal-grade spear, its haft would simply explode under the pressure. He didn’t make any announcement or try to draw anyone’s attention. He simply began. He had formed this place with Uncle Kho’s courtyard in mind, and the floor brought back a flood of memories from that time. All the hours of practice, of course, but also the times when Uncle Kho would start laughing and tell Sen to stop so he could listen to a story. Those stories often involved Uncle Kho being in what sounded like, at the time at least, terrifying situations.

Looking back now, he could understand why Uncle Kho had laughed. Sen smiled as he remembered fleeing from Tide’s Rest, hiding in the forest, convinced that an army of cultivators was hunting him down. It had all seemed so dire at the time. Now, he could see how much he’d overestimated the wrath of the Stormy Ocean Sect. Sure, they wouldn’t have been happy about him killing that sect member. If he’d been easy to catch, they would no doubt have punished him. But that lone formation foundation cultivator he’d killed just wouldn’t have been valuable enough to justify sending out a dedicated search party to find him. Even as those memories and thoughts washed over him, Sen felt the spear moving in his hands and cutting through the air as he took another tiny, incremental step toward the unreachable peak of perfection.

He had long since passed through the basic moves and been progressing through the increasingly difficult forms that Uncle Kho had imparted to him. Being forced to move through them at what felt like a snail’s pace let him spot those tiny flaws in his form that no expert could ever truly seem to eliminate entirely. At the same time, he felt closer than ever to the reverence that Uncle Kho showed for the weapon. There was a simplicity to it, a natural directness of action and intention that wasn’t found with the jian. The jian was the weapon of sharp-minded strategists who could often plot out their victory fifty exchanges in advance, depending on the choices of their opponents. The spear was a weapon that shared more in common with farming tools than with most other weapons. It was a weapon used by people who had to meet immediate threats with immediate force. Complexity had been layered on top of it over the countless millennia by geniuses, but it always came back to a simple thrust or slash to end the fight.

Sen’s body came to rest at the end of the final form he’d learned. He paused because, for the first time ever, he felt like there should be something more. Another form, perhaps? He wasn’t entirely sure. Another question for Uncle Kho, he thought to himself. He turned his attention to the spear in his hand. It wasn’t an excellent spear, but it wasn’t junk either. A craftsman who knew what they were doing had made it, likely to serve as weapons for caravan guards or town guards. It would be more than serviceable for the townspeople to fend off spirit beasts. Sen walked back over to Dai Bao who was staring hard at Sen. Sen glanced around at the rest of the people there. That inspiration they had lacked was evident in their eyes. Li Hua looked like she’d been given instructions directly from the heavens and meant to drag every bit of spear knowledge and insight from Sen’s mind by force if necessary. Sen handed the spear back to Dai Bao, who took it and stared down at it like it was some kind of sacred relic. Even Li Zhi and little Ai had gone silent and were watching him with startled expressions.

The only person who didn’t look impressed was Falling Leaf. She looked bored, as well she might having seen him do far more spectacular things on more than one occasion. She hadn’t been the audience, though, even if her boredom did serve to keep him from being too dazzled with his own performance. Remembering all of the ways he had failed to find perfection in the forms, that seemed like a very healthy thing. He could never let himself become satisfied with his progress. There was always a next step to take, a better way, a more efficient or elegant delivery of any technique, blow, or form. He almost said as much to the people who were all still just staring at him but decided that idea was probably best reserved for those who showed both aptitude and perseverance. Dai Bao saved him from needing to say anything.

“If you think you can do that by standing around and not practicing, think again!” bellowed the grizzled man.

The townspeople all jerked as though they were snapped free from a trance. There were some halfhearted attempts by some of them to return to practicing, but more of them seemed to want to talk about what they had just seen. Sen let it go on for a few minutes before he clapped his hands. Empowered by his body cultivator strength, the clap drowned out all other sounds and silenced everyone. They all turned to look at him.

“Continue with your practice,” said Sen.

That time, everyone went back to work.

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