Chương 42: No Extra Credit

Rowan Even though tensions were running high in Righteous Mountain Sect with Halfmoon House's grand arrival, Rowan and his classmates were still expected to attend classes. Instructor Sutter was particularly tough on Rowan, who had missed many classes recently due to his visit to Deepwhale Pier and his hospital stay.

"You still haven't turned in that essay I assigned several weeks ago," said Instructor Sutter, tapping his stick against the side of Rowan's desk like he was deciding whether to hit him a few times.

"I hope you don't think you're too good for homework now, hm?"

"No, but… doesn't killing a demonic cultivator get me some extra credit?" Rowan only got three whacks from that. He thought it was worth it. As soon as he got back to his dorm, he fished out the old half-written essay from his Flood Dragon pouch. The piece of parchment had accompanied him to Deepwhale Pier, survived the incident in Blackscale Cove, and lived through the life and death battle with Daoist Apex. He looked at the lines of calligraphy with nostalgia.

He'd started writing the essay before he had even formed his Qi Sea and now he was a second layer Qi Condensation cultivator. Instructor Sutter was right. This essay was way overdue. Rowan looked over his work, trying to follow his old train of thought and wondering what the hell he had been thinking.

"Let me see." Rowan startled. Ostra was deigning to speak to him now? He felt that getting a high-realm cultivator to help him with his homework was a waste - offensive, even - but he let the stone read it over nonetheless.

"An essay on the attributes of water? Your teacher would assign such a thing to a mere Qi Condensation disciple?" Ostra was shocked.

"What is the meaning of this? Even if you wrote a thousand essays, you couldn't cover a single attribute." Ostra read through his essay and snorted.

"Water is constrained by Earth. The size of a body of water depends on what the earth will allow..." He paused, seemingly stunned.

"I see. Kid, this assignment was a trap from your instructor to humble you before the profundity of the Dao. How can you possibly understand this subject? If you want a good score, there's only one answer. Here, tear up this parchment and fetch a new one." Rowan obeyed. Ostra cleared his throat, and Rowan prepared himself to hear the unfiltered wisdom of this great master.

"Write this down...

'Water is water'!" Rowan waited for the rest, but it never came.

"Listen well. Your instructor will be shocked by this and look at you in a new light. Even at my tier, this is extremely profound. Sometimes, when you get mired in the complexities, returning to the basics is inspiring." Rowan could hear the smile in Ostra's voice, seeming to delight in his own intelligence.

"Write it in the middle of the page - one word per line, in the format of a three-line poem. Surrounded by white space, the text will be like an island of insight appearing from the boundlessness itself. The visuality of it will add emphasis. An essay is to express what you know - this is your chance to admit despite all your research that you still know nothing."

Rowan couldn't tell if the great senior thought he and his sect were so low-level that 'Water is water' was all they could handle comprehending, or if the man was being genuine.

"Senior, I'm afraid this lowly one is too... low. Can I really turn in an essay with only three words on it?"

"Currently, what you have written is the full truth. Anything you add beyond this can only lower its quality and dilute the message." After that, how could he refuse? // During class the next day, Instructor Sutter had an announcement for them.

"Typically, we would wait for you to finish your general classes before assigning you your teams. However, due to unforeseen circumstances, the elders have decided to assign your teams now. You'll be in groups of three to four, led by an inner or core disciple." Students began whispering and glancing at each other even before Instructor Sutter had finished speaking. Core disciples were up for grabs as team leaders?

"You will receive your assignments during class tomorrow. Please follow the instructions of your team leader - they will be responsible for you, so don't make their job too difficult for them." Lee leaned over to Rowan.

"Do you think they want us to have team leaders to guide us during the tournament?"

"Yeah." Rowan thought of his conversation with Elder Schell.

"And probably to keep us safe." Instructor Sutter was beset with questions, and class ended without the man having taught a single thing about apertures or meridians. Rowan was excited about the prospect of finally being put into a team. He hoped his team leader would either be Senior Brother Florimond or Senior Sister Nila - reasonable, talented individuals. The last thing he wanted was to get placed under Barrett Fross's command. He would end up dead even before their duel.

Once all the students had filtered out of the class, Rowan approached Instructor Sutter with his new and improved essay.

"Mister Helsing! One measly parade and you think yourself some kind of immortal from on high? What is this trash?"

"Water is so complex, we have to return to the basics..."

"I'm trying to teach you the basics!" Instructor Sutter fumed, his face purple.

"You dare patronize me? Have you ever delved into the ocean before, water so deep light can't reach the bottom? Have you ever wondered if Water nourishes Wood, or if Wood depletes Water? Have you even seen a cloud before!? Do you even know that humans drink water!?

'Water is water'... how dare you! Rewrite this - properly this time! Don't waste my time with false high-mindedness just to get out of writing a proper essay!" If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Look at me in a new light... grumbled Rowan. Sure. Now he thinks I'm a truant. From now on, he would think twice before taking homework advice from an immortal.

As he strolled across the courtyard, a group of four students approached Rowan, seemingly having been waiting for him. Lavinia headed the group. She was followed by Pia, and one of the merit students - a tall boy with a long, serious face and tired eyes. Hexagonal spectacles flashed over his face. Silvester, his name was. When he noticed Rowan's curious look, he glanced away to the side. The last student was another boy called Ignatius who Rowan also didn't know very well.

He was a full two heads shorter than Rowan, and played with his fingers.

"What's up?" asked Rowan. Lavinia elbowed Ignatius as if to say "see? I told you he doesn't bite." She batted her lashes at Rowan.

"We're going into the Wilds to hunt beasts. Since you're a hotshot duelist and all now, I figured we should ask you to come along. You know - to protect us." Rowan fought not to visibly recoil at the mention of the Wilds.

"The Wilds? Is it for a mission?"

"No." She sighed.

"The four of us are a little hard on spirit stones right now. Beast cores can help you cultivate in a pinch. We also thought fighting a few beasts could help us hone our skills in time for the tournament. Nothing is better than real experience." Lavinia smiled at him.

"What do you say? Want to come?" Rowan thought for a second. He hadn't been to the Wilds since the incident with Lieren Nostraga. If that had been his only hang-up, Rowan would've forced himself to push through issue and go with them. After all, he was also in need of resources and experience. However… if he was going to kill, he'd rather kill people. Slaying demonic cultivators gave him store credit with Ostra, allowing him to buy from a massive library of scriptures he would never be able to find anywhere else.

He also specifically needed experience fighting with humans. Beasts had completely different spiritual systems to humans - different numbers of meridians and apertures, just to start. They didn't cultivate through enlightenment and meditation, but by consuming and living long enough to absorb the qi of their environment, eventually mutating. Rowan was still trying to learn the finer points of his Germination. Not only that, but his experience with Clodde Bastin and Daoist Apex haunted him.

He could barely sleep at night knowing there were dozens, if not hundreds, of small-time demonic cultivators under his nose hurting others. And big fish like Daoist Silverteeth and The Red Groom too. Beasts were rarely an issue to the people of Righteous Mountain. Also, whatever spoils Lavinia, Rowan, and the rest of the group earned would have to be split five ways. And, if Rowan had taken the measure of these four correctly, most of the work would be done by him anyway. It wasn't worth the time.

"I've still got that essay from Instructor Sutter to finish up," said Rowan quietly.

"But be careful out there. You could also run into disciples of Halfmoon House. Elder Schell seems to think they are up to something." The group of four exchanged looks with each other. Ignatius's hand-wringing increased in speed.

"Is that true? Elder Schell really thinks—?" Lavinia gave Rowan a strained smile.

"Thanks for the advice. We weren't planning to travel too far into the Wilds, anyway." As they turned to leave, Rowan stopped them.

"Wait." From his spatial pouch he fetched the talisman that Lady Hema had given him. It was a signal flare talisman - when activated, it would shoot into the sky, forming a fireworks pattern of a fish jumping out of the water with an advertisement beneath it. But it would do in a pinch.

"Not bad, Rowan," murmured Pia under her breath, greedily grasping the talisman.

"Aren't signal flares worth twenty or thirty taels a piece?"

"Perhaps if it displayed the sect's golden gourd or our Helsing's crossed silverbolts, instead of '10% off at Hema's Sailing Goods'." Rowan rolled his eyes.

"Do you think the discount applies in the basement too?" asked Lavinia, who obviously knew about the black market.

"Probably not," said Rowan. Especially not for Lavinia, with Lady Hema's opinion on Lydia Bruschard.

"Anyway, if you survive, I want the talisman back." Silvester stared covetously at the talisman, but didn't fight Pia for the right to hold it. He simply stood as stiff as a board and said nothing. Rowan waved, taking his leave back to his dorm room. Behind him, he heard Silvester mutter, "Noble cultivators really get everything, don't they…" When Rowan got back to his dorm, he didn't sit at his desk to start revising his essay.

He opened his spatial pouch and pulled out the demonic texts he had taken from Daoist Apex's lair. The qi suffusing them was dark and sick, buzzing around his fingers like a swarm of locusts. Originally, when he'd taken these arts, he only wanted to ensure they were properly burned and didn't end up resold in a place like Lady Hema's black market. He could burn them. He could learn from them. To know his enemies better. Rowan paused for a moment before shaking his head, stuffing them back into the pouch.

Even looking at these arts would defile his mind. If he read these pages, he could never erase them from his memory - they would be with him forever. He didn't want to step in the shoes of his enemy. Righteousness defeated evil. He should trust the sect and the other righteous experts to handle things for now. He shouldn't rush, opening books he could never close…

He scrounged around in his chest of clothes to look for something inconspicuous, settling again on the black robes he'd robbed from the corpse in Blackscale Cove, and changed his outfit. He looked at himself in the mirror. Once, he had sworn to himself that if he ever became a true cultivator, he wouldn't wear anything except the sect robes ever again. Funny how that went. Rowan left the sect, stopping by the Eastern Gate where Old Hesser was stationed.

"Sect Token?" Rowan handed the token over. Old Hesser looked between him and the token before handing it back.

"You know, you used to always forget to bring your token."

"I've gotten a little more responsible." The old man grunted, opening the gate. Rowan paused.

"Old Hesser, has anyone left any messages for me?"

"For you? Quite a few. Marriage offers, mostly. I took the liberty of redirecting them to your uncle."

"It would've been a girl - maybe ten years old." Rowan paused.

"Skinny." Old Hesser shook his head.

"No one like that." Rowan tried not to feel worried. It had only been a few days - it was good that Dalia hadn't gotten so desperate yet as to call upon him. He shook his head and stepped into the hot, bustling city. He hadn't seen any of the orphans at the parade. It was a thought that had been constantly nagging at him ever since. Once he was assigned a team leader - a babysitter - he doubted he would be able to wander around freely, doing as he pleased.

This could be his last chance in a long time to investigate the aftermath of what happened. Whether the orphans had found new homes, what the situation in Highwater was… whether another demonic cultivator had moved in. He wasn't satisfied with a few words of assurance from the Dao Court. He was going to check it out for himself.