Chương 41: Dialogue with Elder Schell

Rowan Rowan wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, the cheap sword in his hand falling to his side. Forgemaster Luzon hadn't sent any further news about his new qi sword yet. And the steel sword Patriarch Yarrow had given him had been destroyed. He'd had no choice but to purchase a new sword to train his new Cutting Wind Sword Technique with. If a few more days passed without word from Master Luzon, he would spend a few taels and acquire a better temporary weapon.

Halfmoon House had been the first to arrive for the tournament. They hadn't caused any trouble so far - in fact, it almost seemed like they didn't exist, speaking to no one and remaining in their carriages on the edge of the Wilds - but Rowan knew other sects would be arriving imminently. Florimond had warned him repeatedly that while tournaments were dangerous, most deaths came from schemes, spats, and duels outside of the sanctioned fights.

After his encounter with Lieren Nostraga, Rowan felt uncomfortable being without a weapon - doubly so after his fight with Daoist Apex. Spiritual arts were powerful, but his Qi Sea was finite. When his qi ran low he could only rely on weapons and martial skills. With a sigh, he examined his jade slip again, the pages of the technique appearing in his mind. Wind was created when something unbalanced tried to rebalance itself. In essence, warm air rose and cool air sank.

When the heat went up, the colder air moved in to replace it, causing wind. This was the most natural form of wind. But wind was also created when a falcon pushed off its branch. Wind was also created when a tree fell into the earth. It was an effect of movement. The basic sword art of the Cutting Wind Sword was called Wind From Eight Directions. It seemed elaborate and dramatic. But really, it was trying to maximize the amount of wind you naturally created by moving, and converting it all into Wind qi.

It contained eight forms of increasing difficulty. If he perfected the Wind From Eight Directions, the Wind qi it generated could evolve into Sharp Wind qi. Previously, he had been taught that Sharp qi was an aspect of high quality Metal qi. He wondered just how sharp wind could be. But that was just an exciting, far-off dream for now. Everything past the Wind From Eight Directions made his head hurt. The intermediate sword art, Ways to Cut Bamboo, was ten times harder than Wind From Eight Directions.

Just like how the difference between hot air and cold air created wind, now the art used the tension between the various elements in his body to generate wind. If he had a pure Single Spirit Root like his mother or father, he would find this art very difficult, if not impossible. But because his Forgegod Spirit Root was a variant Spirit Root of Fire and Metal, he would have an easier time. His body also held the Flood Dragon Water Essence, the Twin Earth Dao Marks, and his Bloodwood lineage…

provided many different sources of qi to work with. The Ways to Cut Bamboo contained six forms of increasing difficulty, but described many variations for each one depending on which elements he was trying to contrast. These sections, laden with notes on elemental source polarity, advantageous meridians to direct different paired qi flows through, and warnings on injuries that could occur if certain apertures were used, actually made up most of the entire scripture.

The advanced understanding of the Cutting Wind was actually a pair of techniques, separating the qi cultivation from its sword form. Below Heaven combined the Wind from Eight Directions - the wind of movement - with the Ways to Cut Bamboo - the wind of difference - to create a dancing whirlwind of Sharp Wind qi from strikes of contrasting elements.

Above Water was the name of the sword form given on the last page of the scripture, in a sutra that shortened many important passages of the technique into a few lines of poetry to harness this whirlwind. Using them together demonstrated mastery of the Cutting Wind Sword Technique. Rowan didn't even bother to dive into the instructions for Below Heaven and Above Water. From a young age, every lesson on scriptures came with a warning to not overreach. To learn things in order.

But he did jot down a list of questions he had after reading its general description to ask Senior Sister Nila about. Rowan faced the straw dummy again. He raised his sword and copied the first sword art perfectly. It was more like a dance than the mortal sword forms he'd grown up practicing. He spun, his sword moving like a whirlwind. He finished the last stroke and a small gust of wind blew out from the tip of his sword. Nothing impressive. But he achieved the effect at least. Someone clapped loudly behind him.

Rowan startled. Elder Schell was sitting on the short brick wall surrounding the training yard, right leg crossed over his left thigh. The lapels of his robes bowed outward revealing crisscrossing scars across his muscular chest. Rowan quickly cupped his fist and bowed politely.

"That's an interesting sword technique, Junior Disciple," said Elder Schell.

"I don't think I've seen anything like it." From a man like Elder Schell, who had, very apparently, seen a lot of things, the comment made Rowan both proud and a little nervous.

"It's a Wind technique," explained Rowan.

"Though, this disciple is afraid he's put on a poor showing." Elder Schell scrubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Ah. There is the Lesser Yin Wind Sword Technique, isn't there? Soul Shear Valley's legendary ancestor wields it, if the stories are to be believed." Rowan put out his hands defensively. He didn't want to be associated with Soul Shear Valley - the sketchiest sect attending the tournament this year. Florimond had told him everything. They used strange soul arts, and the only reason why they weren't considered demonic was because their skills were useful to the Earthly Harmony Alliance.

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"No, no, this is just the Cutting Wind Sword Technique, elder. I got it from my Great-Aunt Iris." The man gave him a considering look.

"Your ancestor has been very generous with you." Rowan ducked his head, about to deflect the comment. But he remembered that he needed to seem assured, like someone who actually had his Foundation Establishment ancestor's favor.

"Yes. I'm very lucky she has taken an interest in me." He grunted.

"Well, go on, keep practicing. Don't let me interrupt you." Rowan bowed again slightly before resuming his training. He went on to the second form of the Wind From Eight Directions. As he slashed his sword in the described movement, he was acutely aware of Elder Schell's observation. When he paused to catch his breath, the man had a few words for him.

"Your form isn't bad, but you are too slow," explained the man.

"Who's going to wait for you to dance around for three or four seconds? It needs to be done in half a second or less to be of any use. And stop checking to see if what you've done has succeeded. It is the first thing an experienced combatant will exploit." Elder Schell was right. He needed to be faster. Much faster.

"Did your Great Aunt not give you a movement technique or a footwork technique?" Rowan almost responded when he saw the smug smile on the Elder Schell's face, realizing the man was teasing him. Rowan braced his hands on his knees, shaking his head with a smile.

"Senior, the manual claims the more I advance this technique, the faster I'll become."

"A movement technique built in to the sword technique? I guess that's to be expected from a Wind technique," Elder Schell mused. He kicked off the brick wall he was sitting on and came up behind Rowan.

"Here. Watch this." The man took the cheap sword from him and copied the second sword form he had been watching Rowan practice. At first, Rowan was astounded by how the man had picked it up so quickly just from watching him a few times. But then he noticed. It wasn't perfect. Elder Schell's sword was tilted a bit downward, and he didn't spin as much. He put more force into his blows like he was trying to hack through the space in front of him rather than generate Wind.

Still, he finished, and a great gust extended out from the cheap sword, a small cyclone of leaves, sticks, and dirt swirling in front of them.

"Amazing, elder!" praised Rowan. The man gave the sword back to Rowan, and crossed his arms.

"I study the Yellow Earth Dragon Child Sword Technique. Its power comes from sturdiness. Standing your ground no matter what comes. Being mighty and unforgiving, lasting until the end. The first techniques you cultivate will define everything that follows - see, even when I try something new, these ingrained habits come through." Rowan opened his mouth to speak, to ask if the elder thought his Wood habits were interfering with his Wind technique. No - Wind wasn't an element. It was an effect. Wind was interference.

He wondered if the elder trying this fancy, flighty technique despite having a foundation in Earth was actually helping him produce Wind. But he didn't dare voice his thoughts. It was one thing to ask an elder a question, it was another to correct him. Rowan felt like this nugget of insight had enlightened him. The more he practiced Wood, the more he practiced other things, the stronger his Wind would be.

"Junior, I have a question for you," asked Elder Schell.

"Yes, senior?"

"That day you found five of your fellow outer disciples in the Wilds… can you tell me what happened, exactly?" Rowan paused. He had been expecting the elders to personally interrogate him for a while now, but after everything that had happened, he found the timing strange. Why now?

"Of course, senior. I'll recount everything." And he did - sort of. He left out all information to do with his mother, and that he had personally encountered Lieren Nostraga. From how he told it, he had split off from the group to chase the Wandering Bulb and followed it to a strange shack where he saw that the leader of the Formidable Five had been nailed to the door. Elder Schell nodded here and there, and when Rowan finished his tale, he was quiet for a long moment.

"I am sure you are wondering why we never asked you any questions back then," he finally said. Rowan nodded. There was a distant look in Elder Schell's eyes.

"The demonic cultivator involved was no small-time menace. He was a Dao Lord, a practitioner who had reached the Core Formation realm. It is said that the average Dao Lord is favored in battle against a hundred Foundation Establishment masters. The death of such a figure could have levelled the entirety of Righteous Mountain. But by the time we arrived, someone had vaporized him into nothing more than a smear of burnt ash. And without us noticing at all. With the powers at play…

it's best to pretend you didn't see anything."

"I… I understand…"

"Good. However, I'm not dragging up this old news for no reason," said Elder Schell.

"A Core Formation demonic cultivator hiding so close to our sect is odd. But now, a string of concerning events have followed. Blackscale Cove has been looted. Righteous Mountain was selected to host the Conference of Earthly Harmony for the first time in history." He paused.

"Not only that, but now Halfmoon House has arrived early - and they never arrive early. On their own, any of these situations would be worthy of attention. Together…" His expression flickered.

"This is why I brought up that demonic cultivator. His death seemed like the start of something ominous." Rowan felt unsettled. Not only by what the man was saying - even excluding the business with Blackscale Cove - Wait, should that be excluded? He had gotten involved because of Blaise Bellacanicus, who had some familial relation to Lieren Nostraga. She wasn't just a demonic cultivator, she was at the center of many important demonic factions.

He thought of the silent mischief in her silver eyes, and the way she threw her head back when she laughed. It was still hard to believe she had anything in common with Lieren Nostraga. He mentally shook his head. If he excluded it, the rest of the elder's worries were still valid. No, he was mainly worried because he could tell the man was biting his tongue on a few more concerns. Rowan killing a troublesome demonic cultivator days before the start of the tournament.

The appearance of Great Aunt Iris, who was supposed to be on the Southern Continent. Indeed, from the perspective of Elder Schell, wasn't this all a bit concerning?

"Elder Schell, whatever you need me to do, I will do it." The man snorted slightly and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Don't take it so seriously. For us elders, it's our job to protect the sect, so we have to explore all possibilities. Rowan, you are in the spotlight right now. You only have one job. If you can even win a single round, it will show those puffed-up peacocks of Heavenly Skies Sect that they aren't as great as they think they are. Bring glory to Righteous Mountain!" Rowan grinned. It was all teeth.

"That's what I was planning on doing anyway." Except, he wasn't just planning on winning one round. No, Rowan wanted to stomp the rest of the early stage bracket into the ground.