Chapter 551
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Chapter 551
As the assassins blade lances towards my throat, my thoughts are not of panic due to impending death or regret over leaving home unarmed and unarmoured.
Nor am I calm, cool, and collected, using the precious time before impact to formulate a proper, warriors response, because quite frankly, I am too slow, weak, and fragile to do anything to stop a Martial Warrior intent on my death, much less an Expert like the man before me. Thats not to say Ive resigned myself to death either, because while the situation might look dire to some, my enemies have fallen victim to one of the classic blunders.
Never go in against the Undying when death is on the line.
...Also, not all turtles are slow. Thats the important lesson here.
Rearing up with a piercing squeak, Ping Ping emerges from the flowing river like gargantuan beast of myth and snaps up my attacker mid-charge. Gone is the placid, gentle giant who carefully picks her way through crowded city streets, and in her place is a primal force of nature, violence given reptilian flesh with power enough to wreck whole cities if left unchecked. There is no suspense or uncertainty once she acts, only awe and consternation as she seals the audacious assassins fate with a crunch of her black, hooked beak. The ground trembles as she clambers up the riverbank with her prize in mouth, an Expert reduced to a broken corpse which she spits at the feet of his peers in undeniable threat. Looming over the remaining two aspiring assassins, she emanates palpable fury and unrestrained violence as human blood dribbles down her beak, silently embodying the age old question, You dare?
Meet Ping Ping, the Guardian Turtle of Falling Rain. She might not be as cute and cuddly as the rest of my floofs, but shes the sweetest, most considerate creature of them all.This chapter is updated by nov(e)(l)biin.com
Perhaps desperate not to be outdone, Kuang Biao uses the long seconds of distraction to lop off his opponents legs, which is good because Id rather not find out how Ping Ping fares against a readied foe, much less two. Leave them alive, I bark, lowering my guarded stance with what I hope is casual disdain. Good girl, Ping Ping. Love youuuu.
At the sound of my cutesy appreciation, the violence seeps out of her hulking frame, though she continues to watch the crippled assassins with guarded caution. Given her gentle and genial nature, its easy to forget that Ping Ping survived centuries, if not millennia, as a regular, everyday alligator snapping turtle in a world so inhospitable I would categorize it as downright hostile. You dont become a Spiritual Beast without cracking a few eggs, and Ping Ping has already shown mercy enough by not slaughtering all her foes in the heat of battle. While Guan Suos presence and her popularity as Ping Yaos mascot certainly helped her survive the last century or three, she hasnt lost much of her edge seeing how she just wrecked an Expert without breaking a sweat. I almost feel bad for the guy. All that hard work and effort to become a warrior near the pinnacle of the Martial Path, and for what? To meet his end at the beak of a Divine Turtle and have his corpse repeatedly battered by an angry, quasi-Spiritual bicorn bunny.
Such waste, such sin.
...
I spend too much time talking to monks. I should fix that.
Oath-Bound suicide warriors, Kuang Biao states, keeping his sword at the ready while pinning his opponents weapons beneath his boot. You wont get any useful information out of them. You should stand back and let me kill them. Never know what tricks they might still have."
Guess you gotta be extra careful with Experts, because you never know if they can control their swords without hands or fire off bolts of Elemental Chi. Heeding Kuang Biaos advice, I keep him between myself and the assassins while picking up the dead mans discarded sword, hoping to find some clue regarding his origins or identity. Unfortunately, Ive never seen a plainer Martial Weapon. Made from a dark, unreflective metal, the thin blade is less than two fingers wide and lacks the heft and length required for a proper hack and slack battlefield weapon, which means it was made with assassination in mind. A thrusting weapon, balanced for throwing and light as a feather too, meaning Kuang Biaos caution is not unwarranted. It even lacks any markings to denote a craftsman or supplier, with no cross-guard and a plain, unremarkable hilt of raw, untreated bamboo. A quick glance around reveals their discarded sheathes by the riverside, also made from the same material, which I suppose they used to hide their weapons in plain sight as a short cane or gathered firewood.
Damn. These are some quality, professional assassins then, ones trained from the ground up and given assassination Spiritual Weapons. Rules out a crime of opportunity. Someone specifically brought these specialists in and had them follow me out to the farm, where they waited for a moment of distraction before striking. They picked a good one too, while I was kneeling on the riverbank feeding a tiny turtle and weird octopus...
Wait. Whered Sir Inky go?
A scan of my surroundings fails to reveal the octopus I last saw hanging to my wrist, though it does show Ping Ping was careful to avoid upending the box of shrimp and bucket of crabs. Either utterly oblivious or wholly indifferent to my close brush with death, Pong Pong continues inhaling shrimp at an unbelievable rate, but the perverted octopus is nowhere to be found, neither bobbing in the water nor flailing helplessly somewhere on land, and I cant help but panic just a little bit. Sir Inky? You okay? If hes hurt, Ill make these bastards -
Two floating, yellowish eyes appear just inches above the dirt path and Sir Inky slowly fades into existence, his skin returning to its natural hue as he waves his tentacles about. Endearing as it is, hes not really waving hello, but rather trying to get dirt out of his suction cups or something. Making sure to keep either Ping Pings bulk or Kuang Biaos torso between me and the assassins, I rescue Sir Inky and bring him back to the river to enjoy his crabs in relative peace, which he does after pulling the bucket over his head. While there, I cant help but shoot Pong Pong a dirty look, because despite being my most expensive pet to feed, he is quite literally only good for eating and shitting. Then again, to be fair, hes only here because I offered to keep him safe, and not the other way around, and its probably better this way since I dont want anyone to know about his existence, but Im entitled to be offended by his complete lack of concern with my continued welfare.
I see how it is Pong Pong. Fine. Be that way. I like Ping Ping more anyways.
...Im sorry, I like you too, cutie. I shouldnt be mad, youre just a turtle.
These assassins, I ask, pulling out the unmarked sword to study once again. They Eastern born?
Im not crippled anymore. I can totally do a cartwheel.
Im an idiot. Ive been stuck in the mindset that no Chi equals worthless cripple, and while that was true at one point, ever since the whole Instinctive Balance debacle in Sinuji, Ive been about as healthy as an average person. I still sleep more than I used to, but its hard not to considering I used to function on four hours a day, but otherwise, Im in peak physical condition, able to lift one or two bunnies, walk up five flights of stairs, do simple flips through the air, and have fun times with friends.
So the big question is, now that Im not crippled anymore, can I Demonstrate the Forms?
Okay two questions: If I can, will there be any benefit?
With no time like the present to find out, I hop to my feet and find an unoccupied corner of the garden to begin testing, but although my mind is ready, my body is cowardly and unwilling. The Forms arent just a bunch of fancy movements done for the sake of calisthenics, theres a genuine, mystical force behind it which I have yet to understand. Ignoring the whole Insight aspect and learning how to fight, the Forms also help build up our physical bodies to withstand the infusion of Heavenly Energy which comes from meditation. As Dad put it, the stronger the body, the more Heavenly Energy it can absorb, and the more Heavenly Energy absorbed, the more powerful the warrior. Thats why Martial Warriors consume three times more food than your average commoner, and also why so many of them grow to herculean proportions.
The problem is, what if food isnt the only thing that fuels this process? Im almost positive theres an element of Heavenly Energy at work here, else Martial Warriors would only have to bulk up to become more powerful. It doesnt work like that though, because Mila and Wu Gam are some of the strongest people I know in my age group, yet neither one is particularly tall or muscular. Mila has an athletic build, but shes no musclebound roid monster, while Wu Gam is slender and dare I say, svelte, like a poncy elf with the strength of a minotaur. Yea, their Blessings probably have something to do with their prodigious might, but Ive also seen Wang Bao wrestle much larger foes to the ground in tests of pure strength, not to mention GangShus no taller than Jorani and almost as thin, yet is capable of sending big Demon Pudge flying with a swat of his hand, sans blessing mind you.
Plus, theres BoShuis growth spurt at the age of twenty-five, which shouldve been impossible, but everyone else seems to think is normal...
What Im getting at is that bigger does not equal stronger. There are small, lean Martial Warriors who can match larger warriors in pure strength, which means theres something else going on in the background. Normally, this wouldnt matter, because the extra ingredient fuelling this growth and strength is easily available to meditating Martial Warriors. However, I am not your typical Martial Warrior. I have a shattered Core and cannot draw upon the Energy of the Heavens, not in the usual way, so theres a very real possibility that Demonstrating the Forms will cause me to overtax my body.
I didnt come up with this idea out of nowhere. Back in Sinuji, I had a whole cadre of Healers studying my body, and none of them could find a valid cause for my physical infirmity, so it stands to reason I somehow fixed myself by Devouring Demon Ichor and turning it into Heavenly Energy, which somehow counteracts whatever is crippling me. Thus, theres a good chance Ill eventually burn through my reserves of Heavenly Energy and go back to being a frail cripple again, a process which might be hastened along if I were to Demonstrate the Forms.
So what do I do now? Should I give it a try? Im supposed to show the world Im healthy again during this banquet at the Central Citadel, so Im pretty sure the Legate will have me snuffed out if I go full cripple again. Assuming he wasnt already trying to have me killed with todays assassination attempt. Shit.
Taking a seat next to Taduk, I lean into his embrace and explain my worries, and he listens through the entire spiel without interrupting, only to sit in silent contemplation for long minutes after Im done. Then, with a twist of his lips and a childish grimace, he throws his hands into the air and says, Bah. Rain my boy, your teacher is useless in this regard. Shrugging in apologetic embarrassment, he adds, You see, I always thought the Forms were a bunch of hand-waving, foot stretching nonsense.
...Me too. Though disappointed he doesnt have the answers I need, his forthright honesty puts a smile on my face. Still kinda do, if Im being honest. Never really understood how it worked. After thinking it through some more, my smile melts away and I ask, Are you saying you became a Medical Saint without learning the Forms? How? Is that even possible?
With another shrug, Taduk asks, Why wouldnt it be? You think your little turtle friend sets aside an hour each morning to stretch and meditate? Does the eagle study the tiger to learn how to hunt? Or the deer copy the snake to run? No Rain my boy. The Martial Dao is not the only path to power, it is merely the means through which Martial Warriors explore the Dao. Understand?
Yes. No. Scratching my head as comprehension escapes me, I lean back to study my teacher once more. If what hes saying is true, then that means hes far more impressive than he lets on. We all forge our own Martial Dao, but at least we have the same familiar milestones to aim for. For Taduk to reach such heights after embarking down his own Dao, thats... incredible. Unbelievable, even. How did he do it? Can I do the same? Should I even try?
No. Definitely not. Im having enough trouble following the established Dao, loosely defined as it might be. Ill never get anywhere if I have to figure out all the rules by myself.
Still, its something to consider. The Dao is everything, and the Martial Dao merely a means to explore it, which means...
Fuck all, for all I know. Whatever. After Central, Ill test out the Forms. Or maybe Ill talk to Dad and see if he can start a Demon capture and delivery service or something. This would be a whole lot easier if the Abbot, Guan Suo, and GangShu came back. So many wasted opportunities. If Id known they were Divinities, I wouldve asked Guan Suo and the Abbot so many more questions. Itd be nice to hear what a tried and true Divinity thinks about my current problems, but they probably have more concerning issues to deal with right now.
Seriously though... when both participants can destroy cities with a wave of their hands, how does a fight drag on for days, much less weeks? Probably a lot of hiding and lurking about, would be my guess, a giant game of cat and mouse, except both have giant, world-ending lasers strapped to their heads.
... Best of luck, Abbot, Guan Suo, and GangShu. May the Mother do a better job watching over you than Shes done with me.
Chapter Meme
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Chapter 551
As the assassins blade lances towards my throat, my thoughts are not of panic due to impending death or regret over leaving home unarmed and unarmoured.
Nor am I calm, cool, and collected, using the precious time before impact to formulate a proper, warriors response, because quite frankly, I am too slow, weak, and fragile to do anything to stop a Martial Warrior intent on my death, much less an Expert like the man before me. Thats not to say Ive resigned myself to death either, because while the situation might look dire to some, my enemies have fallen victim to one of the classic blunders.
Never go in against the Undying when death is on the line.
...Also, not all turtles are slow. Thats the important lesson here.
Rearing up with a piercing squeak, Ping Ping emerges from the flowing river like gargantuan beast of myth and snaps up my attacker mid-charge. Gone is the placid, gentle giant who carefully picks her way through crowded city streets, and in her place is a primal force of nature, violence given reptilian flesh with power enough to wreck whole cities if left unchecked. There is no suspense or uncertainty once she acts, only awe and consternation as she seals the audacious assassins fate with a crunch of her black, hooked beak. The ground trembles as she clambers up the riverbank with her prize in mouth, an Expert reduced to a broken corpse which she spits at the feet of his peers in undeniable threat. Looming over the remaining two aspiring assassins, she emanates palpable fury and unrestrained violence as human blood dribbles down her beak, silently embodying the age old question, You dare?
Meet Ping Ping, the Guardian Turtle of Falling Rain. She might not be as cute and cuddly as the rest of my floofs, but shes the sweetest, most considerate creature of them all.This chapter is updated by nov(e)(l)biin.com
Perhaps desperate not to be outdone, Kuang Biao uses the long seconds of distraction to lop off his opponents legs, which is good because Id rather not find out how Ping Ping fares against a readied foe, much less two. Leave them alive, I bark, lowering my guarded stance with what I hope is casual disdain. Good girl, Ping Ping. Love youuuu.
At the sound of my cutesy appreciation, the violence seeps out of her hulking frame, though she continues to watch the crippled assassins with guarded caution. Given her gentle and genial nature, its easy to forget that Ping Ping survived centuries, if not millennia, as a regular, everyday alligator snapping turtle in a world so inhospitable I would categorize it as downright hostile. You dont become a Spiritual Beast without cracking a few eggs, and Ping Ping has already shown mercy enough by not slaughtering all her foes in the heat of battle. While Guan Suos presence and her popularity as Ping Yaos mascot certainly helped her survive the last century or three, she hasnt lost much of her edge seeing how she just wrecked an Expert without breaking a sweat. I almost feel bad for the guy. All that hard work and effort to become a warrior near the pinnacle of the Martial Path, and for what? To meet his end at the beak of a Divine Turtle and have his corpse repeatedly battered by an angry, quasi-Spiritual bicorn bunny.
Such waste, such sin.
...
I spend too much time talking to monks. I should fix that.
Oath-Bound suicide warriors, Kuang Biao states, keeping his sword at the ready while pinning his opponents weapons beneath his boot. You wont get any useful information out of them. You should stand back and let me kill them. Never know what tricks they might still have."
Guess you gotta be extra careful with Experts, because you never know if they can control their swords without hands or fire off bolts of Elemental Chi. Heeding Kuang Biaos advice, I keep him between myself and the assassins while picking up the dead mans discarded sword, hoping to find some clue regarding his origins or identity. Unfortunately, Ive never seen a plainer Martial Weapon. Made from a dark, unreflective metal, the thin blade is less than two fingers wide and lacks the heft and length required for a proper hack and slack battlefield weapon, which means it was made with assassination in mind. A thrusting weapon, balanced for throwing and light as a feather too, meaning Kuang Biaos caution is not unwarranted. It even lacks any markings to denote a craftsman or supplier, with no cross-guard and a plain, unremarkable hilt of raw, untreated bamboo. A quick glance around reveals their discarded sheathes by the riverside, also made from the same material, which I suppose they used to hide their weapons in plain sight as a short cane or gathered firewood.
Damn. These are some quality, professional assassins then, ones trained from the ground up and given assassination Spiritual Weapons. Rules out a crime of opportunity. Someone specifically brought these specialists in and had them follow me out to the farm, where they waited for a moment of distraction before striking. They picked a good one too, while I was kneeling on the riverbank feeding a tiny turtle and weird octopus...
Wait. Whered Sir Inky go?
A scan of my surroundings fails to reveal the octopus I last saw hanging to my wrist, though it does show Ping Ping was careful to avoid upending the box of shrimp and bucket of crabs. Either utterly oblivious or wholly indifferent to my close brush with death, Pong Pong continues inhaling shrimp at an unbelievable rate, but the perverted octopus is nowhere to be found, neither bobbing in the water nor flailing helplessly somewhere on land, and I cant help but panic just a little bit. Sir Inky? You okay? If hes hurt, Ill make these bastards -
Two floating, yellowish eyes appear just inches above the dirt path and Sir Inky slowly fades into existence, his skin returning to its natural hue as he waves his tentacles about. Endearing as it is, hes not really waving hello, but rather trying to get dirt out of his suction cups or something. Making sure to keep either Ping Pings bulk or Kuang Biaos torso between me and the assassins, I rescue Sir Inky and bring him back to the river to enjoy his crabs in relative peace, which he does after pulling the bucket over his head. While there, I cant help but shoot Pong Pong a dirty look, because despite being my most expensive pet to feed, he is quite literally only good for eating and shitting. Then again, to be fair, hes only here because I offered to keep him safe, and not the other way around, and its probably better this way since I dont want anyone to know about his existence, but Im entitled to be offended by his complete lack of concern with my continued welfare.
I see how it is Pong Pong. Fine. Be that way. I like Ping Ping more anyways.
...Im sorry, I like you too, cutie. I shouldnt be mad, youre just a turtle.
These assassins, I ask, pulling out the unmarked sword to study once again. They Eastern born?
Im not crippled anymore. I can totally do a cartwheel.
Im an idiot. Ive been stuck in the mindset that no Chi equals worthless cripple, and while that was true at one point, ever since the whole Instinctive Balance debacle in Sinuji, Ive been about as healthy as an average person. I still sleep more than I used to, but its hard not to considering I used to function on four hours a day, but otherwise, Im in peak physical condition, able to lift one or two bunnies, walk up five flights of stairs, do simple flips through the air, and have fun times with friends.
So the big question is, now that Im not crippled anymore, can I Demonstrate the Forms?
Okay two questions: If I can, will there be any benefit?
With no time like the present to find out, I hop to my feet and find an unoccupied corner of the garden to begin testing, but although my mind is ready, my body is cowardly and unwilling. The Forms arent just a bunch of fancy movements done for the sake of calisthenics, theres a genuine, mystical force behind it which I have yet to understand. Ignoring the whole Insight aspect and learning how to fight, the Forms also help build up our physical bodies to withstand the infusion of Heavenly Energy which comes from meditation. As Dad put it, the stronger the body, the more Heavenly Energy it can absorb, and the more Heavenly Energy absorbed, the more powerful the warrior. Thats why Martial Warriors consume three times more food than your average commoner, and also why so many of them grow to herculean proportions.
The problem is, what if food isnt the only thing that fuels this process? Im almost positive theres an element of Heavenly Energy at work here, else Martial Warriors would only have to bulk up to become more powerful. It doesnt work like that though, because Mila and Wu Gam are some of the strongest people I know in my age group, yet neither one is particularly tall or muscular. Mila has an athletic build, but shes no musclebound roid monster, while Wu Gam is slender and dare I say, svelte, like a poncy elf with the strength of a minotaur. Yea, their Blessings probably have something to do with their prodigious might, but Ive also seen Wang Bao wrestle much larger foes to the ground in tests of pure strength, not to mention GangShus no taller than Jorani and almost as thin, yet is capable of sending big Demon Pudge flying with a swat of his hand, sans blessing mind you.
Plus, theres BoShuis growth spurt at the age of twenty-five, which shouldve been impossible, but everyone else seems to think is normal...
What Im getting at is that bigger does not equal stronger. There are small, lean Martial Warriors who can match larger warriors in pure strength, which means theres something else going on in the background. Normally, this wouldnt matter, because the extra ingredient fuelling this growth and strength is easily available to meditating Martial Warriors. However, I am not your typical Martial Warrior. I have a shattered Core and cannot draw upon the Energy of the Heavens, not in the usual way, so theres a very real possibility that Demonstrating the Forms will cause me to overtax my body.
I didnt come up with this idea out of nowhere. Back in Sinuji, I had a whole cadre of Healers studying my body, and none of them could find a valid cause for my physical infirmity, so it stands to reason I somehow fixed myself by Devouring Demon Ichor and turning it into Heavenly Energy, which somehow counteracts whatever is crippling me. Thus, theres a good chance Ill eventually burn through my reserves of Heavenly Energy and go back to being a frail cripple again, a process which might be hastened along if I were to Demonstrate the Forms.
So what do I do now? Should I give it a try? Im supposed to show the world Im healthy again during this banquet at the Central Citadel, so Im pretty sure the Legate will have me snuffed out if I go full cripple again. Assuming he wasnt already trying to have me killed with todays assassination attempt. Shit.
Taking a seat next to Taduk, I lean into his embrace and explain my worries, and he listens through the entire spiel without interrupting, only to sit in silent contemplation for long minutes after Im done. Then, with a twist of his lips and a childish grimace, he throws his hands into the air and says, Bah. Rain my boy, your teacher is useless in this regard. Shrugging in apologetic embarrassment, he adds, You see, I always thought the Forms were a bunch of hand-waving, foot stretching nonsense.
...Me too. Though disappointed he doesnt have the answers I need, his forthright honesty puts a smile on my face. Still kinda do, if Im being honest. Never really understood how it worked. After thinking it through some more, my smile melts away and I ask, Are you saying you became a Medical Saint without learning the Forms? How? Is that even possible?
With another shrug, Taduk asks, Why wouldnt it be? You think your little turtle friend sets aside an hour each morning to stretch and meditate? Does the eagle study the tiger to learn how to hunt? Or the deer copy the snake to run? No Rain my boy. The Martial Dao is not the only path to power, it is merely the means through which Martial Warriors explore the Dao. Understand?
Yes. No. Scratching my head as comprehension escapes me, I lean back to study my teacher once more. If what hes saying is true, then that means hes far more impressive than he lets on. We all forge our own Martial Dao, but at least we have the same familiar milestones to aim for. For Taduk to reach such heights after embarking down his own Dao, thats... incredible. Unbelievable, even. How did he do it? Can I do the same? Should I even try?
No. Definitely not. Im having enough trouble following the established Dao, loosely defined as it might be. Ill never get anywhere if I have to figure out all the rules by myself.
Still, its something to consider. The Dao is everything, and the Martial Dao merely a means to explore it, which means...
Fuck all, for all I know. Whatever. After Central, Ill test out the Forms. Or maybe Ill talk to Dad and see if he can start a Demon capture and delivery service or something. This would be a whole lot easier if the Abbot, Guan Suo, and GangShu came back. So many wasted opportunities. If Id known they were Divinities, I wouldve asked Guan Suo and the Abbot so many more questions. Itd be nice to hear what a tried and true Divinity thinks about my current problems, but they probably have more concerning issues to deal with right now.
Seriously though... when both participants can destroy cities with a wave of their hands, how does a fight drag on for days, much less weeks? Probably a lot of hiding and lurking about, would be my guess, a giant game of cat and mouse, except both have giant, world-ending lasers strapped to their heads.
... Best of luck, Abbot, Guan Suo, and GangShu. May the Mother do a better job watching over you than Shes done with me.
Chapter Meme
Chapter 551As the assassins blade lances towards my throat, my thoughts are not of panic due to impending death or regret over leaving home unarmed and unarmoured.Nor am I calm, cool, and collected, using the precious time before impact to formulate a proper, warriors response, because quite frankly, I am too slow, weak, and fragile to do anything to stop a Martial Warrior intent on my death, much less an Expert like the man before me. Thats not to say Ive resigned myself to death either, because while the situation might look dire to some, my enemies have fallen victim to one of the classic blunders.Never go in against the Undying when death is on the line....Also, not all turtles are slow. Thats the important lesson here.Rearing up with a piercing squeak, Ping Ping emerges from the flowing river like gargantuan beast of myth and snaps up my attacker mid-charge. Gone is the placid, gentle giant who carefully picks her way through crowded city streets, and in her place is a primal force of nature, violence given reptilian flesh with power enough to wreck whole cities if left unchecked. There is no suspense or uncertainty once she acts, only awe and consternation as she seals the audacious assassins fate with a crunch of her black, hooked beak. The ground trembles as she clambers up the riverbank with her prize in mouth, an Expert reduced to a broken corpse which she spits at the feet of his peers in undeniable threat. Looming over the remaining two aspiring assassins, she emanates palpable fury and unrestrained violence as human blood dribbles down her beak, silently embodying the age old question, You dare?Meet Ping Ping, the Guardian Turtle of Falling Rain. She might not be as cute and cuddly as the rest of my floofs, but shes the sweetest, most considerate creature of them all.This chapter is updated by novelbiin.comPerhaps desperate not to be outdone, Kuang Biao uses the long seconds of distraction to lop off his opponents legs, which is good because Id rather not find out how Ping Ping fares against a readied foe, much less two. Leave them alive, I bark, lowering my guarded stance with what I hope is casual disdain. Good girl, Ping Ping. Love youuuu.At the sound of my cutesy appreciation, the violence seeps out of her hulking frame, though she continues to watch the crippled assassins with guarded caution. Given her gentle and genial nature, its easy to forget that Ping Ping survived centuries, if not millennia, as a regular, everyday alligator snapping turtle in a world so inhospitable I would categorize it as downright hostile. You dont become a Spiritual Beast without cracking a few eggs, and Ping Ping has already shown mercy enough by not slaughtering all her foes in the heat of battle. While Guan Suos presence and her popularity as Ping Yaos mascot certainly helped her survive the last century or three, she hasnt lost much of her edge seeing how she just wrecked an Expert without breaking a sweat. I almost feel bad for the guy. All that hard work and effort to become a warrior near the pinnacle of the Martial Path, and for what? To meet his end at the beak of a Divine Turtle and have his corpse repeatedly battered by an angry, quasi-Spiritual bicorn bunny.Such waste, such sin....I spend too much time talking to monks. I should fix that.Oath-Bound suicide warriors, Kuang Biao states, keeping his sword at the ready while pinning his opponents weapons beneath his boot. You wont get any useful information out of them. You should stand back and let me kill them. Never know what tricks they might still have."Guess you gotta be extra careful with Experts, because you never know if they can control their swords without hands or fire off bolts of Elemental Chi. Heeding Kuang Biaos advice, I keep him between myself and the assassins while picking up the dead mans discarded sword, hoping to find some clue regarding his origins or identity. Unfortunately, Ive never seen a plainer Martial Weapon. Made from a dark, unreflective metal, the thin blade is less than two fingers wide and lacks the heft and length required for a proper hack and slack battlefield weapon, which means it was made with assassination in mind. A thrusting weapon, balanced for throwing and light as a feather too, meaning Kuang Biaos caution is not unwarranted. It even lacks any markings to denote a craftsman or supplier, with no cross-guard and a plain, unremarkable hilt of raw, untreated bamboo. A quick glance around reveals their discarded sheathes by the riverside, also made from the same material, which I suppose they used to hide their weapons in plain sight as a short cane or gathered firewood.Damn. These are some quality, professional assassins then, ones trained from the ground up and given assassination Spiritual Weapons. Rules out a crime of opportunity. Someone specifically brought these specialists in and had them follow me out to the farm, where they waited for a moment of distraction before striking. They picked a good one too, while I was kneeling on the riverbank feeding a tiny turtle and weird octopus...Wait. Whered Sir Inky go?A scan of my surroundings fails to reveal the octopus I last saw hanging to my wrist, though it does show Ping Ping was careful to avoid upending the box of shrimp and bucket of crabs. Either utterly oblivious or wholly indifferent to my close brush with death, Pong Pong continues inhaling shrimp at an unbelievable rate, but the perverted octopus is nowhere to be found, neither bobbing in the water nor flailing helplessly somewhere on land, and I cant help but panic just a little bit. Sir Inky? You okay? If hes hurt, Ill make these bastards -Two floating, yellowish eyes appear just inches above the dirt path and Sir Inky slowly fades into existence, his skin returning to its natural hue as he waves his tentacles about. Endearing as it is, hes not really waving hello, but rather trying to get dirt out of his suction cups or something. Making sure to keep either Ping Pings bulk or Kuang Biaos torso between me and the assassins, I rescue Sir Inky and bring him back to the river to enjoy his crabs in relative peace, which he does after pulling the bucket over his head. While there, I cant help but shoot Pong Pong a dirty look, because despite being my most expensive pet to feed, he is quite literally only good for eating and shitting. Then again, to be fair, hes only here because I offered to keep him safe, and not the other way around, and its probably better this way since I dont want anyone to know about his existence, but Im entitled to be offended by his complete lack of concern with my continued welfare.I see how it is Pong Pong. Fine. Be that way. I like Ping Ping more anyways....Im sorry, I like you too, cutie. I shouldnt be mad, youre just a turtle.These assassins, I ask, pulling out the unmarked sword to study once again. They Eastern born?Im not crippled anymore. I can totally do a cartwheel.Im an idiot. Ive been stuck in the mindset that no Chi equals worthless cripple, and while that was true at one point, ever since the whole Instinctive Balance debacle in Sinuji, Ive been about as healthy as an average person. I still sleep more than I used to, but its hard not to considering I used to function on four hours a day, but otherwise, Im in peak physical condition, able to lift one or two bunnies, walk up five flights of stairs, do simple flips through the air, and have fun times with friends.So the big question is, now that Im not crippled anymore, can I Demonstrate the Forms?Okay two questions: If I can, will there be any benefit?With no time like the present to find out, I hop to my feet and find an unoccupied corner of the garden to begin testing, but although my mind is ready, my body is cowardly and unwilling. The Forms arent just a bunch of fancy movements done for the sake of calisthenics, theres a genuine, mystical force behind it which I have yet to understand. Ignoring the whole Insight aspect and learning how to fight, the Forms also help build up our physical bodies to withstand the infusion of Heavenly Energy which comes from meditation. As Dad put it, the stronger the body, the more Heavenly Energy it can absorb, and the more Heavenly Energy absorbed, the more powerful the warrior. Thats why Martial Warriors consume three times more food than your average commoner, and also why so many of them grow to herculean proportions.The problem is, what if food isnt the only thing that fuels this process? Im almost positive theres an element of Heavenly Energy at work here, else Martial Warriors would only have to bulk up to become more powerful. It doesnt work like that though, because Mila and Wu Gam are some of the strongest people I know in my age group, yet neither one is particularly tall or muscular. Mila has an athletic build, but shes no musclebound roid monster, while Wu Gam is slender and dare I say, svelte, like a poncy elf with the strength of a minotaur. Yea, their Blessings probably have something to do with their prodigious might, but Ive also seen Wang Bao wrestle much larger foes to the ground in tests of pure strength, not to mention GangShus no taller than Jorani and almost as thin, yet is capable of sending big Demon Pudge flying with a swat of his hand, sans blessing mind you.Plus, theres BoShuis growth spurt at the age of twenty-five, which shouldve been impossible, but everyone else seems to think is normal...What Im getting at is that bigger does not equal stronger. There are small, lean Martial Warriors who can match larger warriors in pure strength, which means theres something else going on in the background. Normally, this wouldnt matter, because the extra ingredient fuelling this growth and strength is easily available to meditating Martial Warriors. However, I am not your typical Martial Warrior. I have a shattered Core and cannot draw upon the Energy of the Heavens, not in the usual way, so theres a very real possibility that Demonstrating the Forms will cause me to overtax my body.I didnt come up with this idea out of nowhere. Back in Sinuji, I had a whole cadre of Healers studying my body, and none of them could find a valid cause for my physical infirmity, so it stands to reason I somehow fixed myself by Devouring Demon Ichor and turning it into Heavenly Energy, which somehow counteracts whatever is crippling me. Thus, theres a good chance Ill eventually burn through my reserves of Heavenly Energy and go back to being a frail cripple again, a process which might be hastened along if I were to Demonstrate the Forms.So what do I do now? Should I give it a try? Im supposed to show the world Im healthy again during this banquet at the Central Citadel, so Im pretty sure the Legate will have me snuffed out if I go full cripple again. Assuming he wasnt already trying to have me killed with todays assassination attempt. Shit.Taking a seat next to Taduk, I lean into his embrace and explain my worries, and he listens through the entire spiel without interrupting, only to sit in silent contemplation for long minutes after Im done. Then, with a twist of his lips and a childish grimace, he throws his hands into the air and says, Bah. Rain my boy, your teacher is useless in this regard. Shrugging in apologetic embarrassment, he adds, You see, I always thought the Forms were a bunch of hand-waving, foot stretching nonsense....Me too. Though disappointed he doesnt have the answers I need, his forthright honesty puts a smile on my face. Still kinda do, if Im being honest. Never really understood how it worked. After thinking it through some more, my smile melts away and I ask, Are you saying you became a Medical Saint without learning the Forms? How? Is that even possible?With another shrug, Taduk asks, Why wouldnt it be? You think your little turtle friend sets aside an hour each morning to stretch and meditate? Does the eagle study the tiger to learn how to hunt? Or the deer copy the snake to run? No Rain my boy. The Martial Dao is not the only path to power, it is merely the means through which Martial Warriors explore the Dao. Understand?Yes. No. Scratching my head as comprehension escapes me, I lean back to study my teacher once more. If what hes saying is true, then that means hes far more impressive than he lets on. We all forge our own Martial Dao, but at least we have the same familiar milestones to aim for. For Taduk to reach such heights after embarking down his own Dao, thats... incredible. Unbelievable, even. How did he do it? Can I do the same? Should I even try?No. Definitely not. Im having enough trouble following the established Dao, loosely defined as it might be. Ill never get anywhere if I have to figure out all the rules by myself.Still, its something to consider. The Dao is everything, and the Martial Dao merely a means to explore it, which means...Fuck all, for all I know. Whatever. After Central, Ill test out the Forms. Or maybe Ill talk to Dad and see if he can start a Demon capture and delivery service or something. This would be a whole lot easier if the Abbot, Guan Suo, and GangShu came back. So many wasted opportunities. If Id known they were Divinities, I wouldve asked Guan Suo and the Abbot so many more questions. Itd be nice to hear what a tried and true Divinity thinks about my current problems, but they probably have more concerning issues to deal with right now.Seriously though... when both participants can destroy cities with a wave of their hands, how does a fight drag on for days, much less weeks? Probably a lot of hiding and lurking about, would be my guess, a giant game of cat and mouse, except both have giant, world-ending lasers strapped to their heads.... Best of luck, Abbot, Guan Suo, and GangShu. May the Mother do a better job watching over you than Shes done with me.Chapter Meme
