Sky Pride

Tian thanked Sister Su and sat back at the desk, looking over the picks. There were solid arguments for each of them, and especially for using them in combination. But any art worth a damn would take time to practice, and he had noticed that while the Brothers were familiar with a lot of arts, they only regularly used a few favorites. For decades. Getting good at one thing might be more practical than being mediocre at a few things.

“Grandpa, which would you pick?” 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Imperial Heavenly Swallows, ten times out of ten, no question about it. You have the merits for it, and after your last few missions, they are going to be very willing to let you hide out in the Depot for a long while. You probably will have time to get it to a usable level by the time you are deployed into the field again.

“Why? I get that the darts are more powerful-”

Don’t underplay that. The power difference is unreal. Just… not remotely on the same level. Dart Tricks is a joke. It’s party tricks and street performer games tweaked for cultivator use. It couldn’t take down a chinchilla. Little Nippers is a proper killing art but it’s only going to be effective against the weakest enemies you face. Either that, or you will have to compensate by buying high end darts by the bushel. Yes, yes, earth hardening technique, I know. She’s Level Nine, and I get the feeling making darts is her major hobby. It’s useful at medium to long ranges where there are few to no obstacles or people you want to keep alive in the way. It’s too limited. But the best reason to pick Imperial Heavenly Swallows is the control technique.

“Control technique?” Tian asked, wondering what a chinchilla was. But Grandpa always refused to answer if he asked about those kinds of things.

Mmm. It is really not easy to use vital energy outside of the body, let alone use it agilely. That already puts this art miles ahead. Then there is the growth potential. An art that lets you evolve from vital energy to qi and still be relevant? Very special indeed. And… the summary is leaving things out, I think. I smell opportunity.

But it’s simpler than that. You wanted direct, forceful and penetrating? This is that. Massively that. Imperial implying a forceful yang aspect, if you insist on thinking of it that way. Emperors not being known for their conciliatory nature.

Really though, it’s my opportunity detection instinct. The author of Imperial Heavenly Swallows was an absolute genius. It would be a shame not to take advantage. Whoever is running this library has a good brain too. Things cost enough to be valuable, but not so much that it actually keeps them out of the hands of people who will use them properly.

Tian nodded. He did have enough military merits to buy it. He had worked an awful lot of shifts at the hospital, and his work as a field medic earned him even more. There were various bonuses and awards along the way. The bonuses were never very much, but since he didn’t spend his merits on anything, they added up. He would learn the spell, then refine his new darts when they were ready. He would be that little bit more lethal.

He sighed and asked “And am I being used properly?”

Hmm? By the monastery? By yourself?

“At this point, I don’t even know. I don’t want my brothers hurt. I can’t stand the idea of running away and leaving them to fight. I’m not some specially cultivated genius of the sect, I’m an upper second class talent with a very generous senior brother. This isn’t the monastery taking special care of my training. This is…” Tian groped for the words. It just felt wrong. The whole situation felt wrong, especially for an orthodox sect.

Why the hell was he finding himself in combat so often? The only person other than Hong who was even remotely near his age was the rich second generation working the front desk for Sister Li. And even he was at least in his twenties.

Well. About that. You definitely qualify as a first class talent by now.

“Eh?”

Tian, you have been double-refined, and you are running a very high level body refinement art. You are subtly stronger, take less damage, and your base condition is approaching perfection. Your body eats curses and turns them into your strength. At least, curses up to a certain point. Poisons are considerably less effective against you too. All while your vital energy and qi is becoming increasingly pure and dense. Do I really need to explain how insanely powerful and useful that is? And I’m sure that isn’t everything.

“Hooray.” Tian waved the green stick and called the librarian over. Building for the long haul. Very Grandpa, and apparently optimal for Tian.

New art safely tucked into his storage ring, Tian stepped out of the library and into an unexpected blessing.

“Brother Fu!” Tian spotted the old man as he walked through the gates of the base and bolted toward him. Tian stopped short of hugging him. Instead he bowed very, very properly. Brother Fu wouldn’t want to be hugged, especially in public. But he would appreciate a very polite bow. “When did you get back? How long are you back for?”

“It is very good to see you too, Junior Brother Tian.” Brother Fu stroked his white beard and smiled. “I returned an hour ago. As for how long I am here? Just for the night, but at least I am here now. Isn’t that good?”

“Very good! Very, very good.” Tian nodded strongly.

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“Come, let’s have some lunch and you can tell me everything you have been up to.”

“That might take longer than lunch, Brother Fu.”

“We have the time we have. Let’s see how it goes.”

It turned out they had the afternoon, the evening and deep into the night. Tian told him everything. How he felt when Sima tried to get him killed for a better share of the loot. How he felt when Poetry Saint Zhu and Brother Meng died. How he felt sitting up at night and drinking tea with the dying Brother Long. About traveling through the wasteland with Hong. About losing the fight, and feeling a fire light in him to get stronger.

The only thing he didn’t mention was the Hell Suppressing art. Such a fortuitous encounter, he had been repeatedly told by his brothers, should be kept a secret until it was no longer important. Not because you didn’t trust the person you were talking to, but because you never knew who else was listening.

Most of all he kept coming back to the same question he asked Brother Su. “Brother Fu, just what am I doing here? I know I’m contributing, but I survived the last battle with the heretics because I ran away and hid before the battle was over. I am providing first aid in the field, but most of this is stuff the brothers and sisters could learn to do for themselves. Even when I was couriering routine messages and supplies, it was a job that could have been done by… I don’t know, an enchanted bird or something. But the monastery is spending money and lives to keep me in the wasteland.”

Tian looked at Brother Fu with wide eyes. “Why?”

Brother Fu sighed. “I have a theory. No one has ever come out and said it, but I have spent two centuries serving the Ancient Crane Monastery, and this is the third war I have fought for it. So this is my speculation, but it’s based on observation.”

Brother Fu looked up into the night sky.

“I believe the masters of the sect have made two calculations. The first calculation is one of war as understood and fought by mortals. Wars are won by logistics, communication, training, discipline, political will, and money. They also require a certain quantity of people. The way you personally are deployed might not be the best for you, but the sect is fighting a war over a vast landmass with more than fifteen thousand combatants. You can’t expect individual attention.”

Brother Fu gently shook his head. “The second calculation is that of Immortal Daoists. From that perspective, the life and death of almost everyone in the sect is of little importance. There are probably less than a hundred people on the battlefield who’s life and death will truly matter in even the medium term, and many of those people are still unknown to the Monastery.”

The old man pressed his palms together and sharply steepled his fingers. “More people is not more powerful. The combat capability of a given daoist is not equal across realms or levels, nor even within the same level. It only gets more exaggerated the higher up you go. So it is entirely normal for a single cultivator’s usefulness to the Daoist Masters to outweigh tens of thousands of cultivators with lower cultivation. For the Masters, the purpose of this war is sect survival. Something that will be achieved by cultivating the supreme experts that will be able to secure the fate of Ancient Crane Mountain both now and in the future.”

He smiled sadly at Tian.

“The Heavenly Person Realm requires revelation, and that revelation is understood through our wisdom and experiences. This war is giving us all a lot to understand.”

“It can’t possibly be worth it! Not to lose so many people for the sake of a few juniors who might never break through! Heavenly Person Realm cultivators are dying every day. To trade one for the other is kicked in the head!”

“It is quite pragmatic, actually. Ruthless, and pragmatic. Not all revelations are equal, nor are all Heavenly Realm disciples. You haven’t been in the sect long, so you don’t really understand. You remember when Direct Disciple Sung made a move and wiped out that whole invasion of the Depot?”

“Of course.”

“What realm would you say she was in? Keep in mind all she did was fly in on an eagle and played a song on her zither. That was enough to exterminate hundreds of heretics in a single move as well as a swarm of Heavenly Person level zombies.”

“I don’t know? Peak of Heavenly Person Realm? Whatever comes after that?”

“I don’t know her level either, but I was there for her ascension ceremony fifty years ago. She was Level One of the Heavenly Person Realm when she was invited to the Monastery to worship a Master, becoming a Direct Disciple.”

“You have been to the Monastery?”

“I was, by special permission, allowed into the back of the crowd at the foot of the Stairs of Immortal Ascension at the base of the mountain, in Mountain Gate City. There was a big send off as she set out to climb the hundred thousand steps to the Monastery. My point is that her cultivation may not actually have progressed that far.”

Brother Fu parceled out the air with his hands. “One Heavenly Person Realm cultivator is worth at least a hundred, and really more like hundreds, of Earthly Realm fighters on the battlefield. Even in peacetime, what they craft and bring to the sect is worth many times more per person, even if their expenses are equally high. And one core disciple is worth… I don’t have any way to measure it. There is no comparison, really. Not with Earthly Realm fighters, or even the others in the Inner Court.”

“Better talent?”

“First Class talent is the minimum standard to even be discussed as potentially being allowed to compete for a spot as a core disciple. And the very, very, very best of the sect, the top fraction of those core disciples, are selected to inherit the true teachings of the Daoist Masters. They are the direct disciples of those Daoist Masters. In the future, they will become Daoist Masters themselves, and become the next generation of leaders for the sect.” Brother Fu smiled, looking a little awkward as he tried to explain the nature of those far above him.

“Each of them is a unique talent. How they are capable varies. That they are far more powerful than others of their level does not. And it’s not just the cultivation methods, or the physiques they were born with, or the lucky chances they encountered.”

“So what is it about, then?” Tian asked.

“Each of them has grasped some portion of the Dao and moves with it. They generally found that understanding as they broke through to the Heavenly Person Realm. It’s just that simple. Why is the whole Outer Court drowning in blood here in the wasteland? Why force children to battle for their lives, making you confront things that would break adults?”

Brother Fu stared out over the broken, rocky earth. His voice was sad, but resolved. “So that one of you finds the Dao. All the death and expense is worth it. Necessary. A virtuous act, even. Because somewhere in this wasteland, a new Daoist Master is growing far faster than they would at home. That singular person that can change everything, riding on twists of fate. And for all the sect knows, it might be you.”