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Cultivating Chai 75
🕑 Added 2024-12-07 17:20:07 +0000 UTC75:
Sparring with Lianhua and Alchemist Jun turned out to be the highlight of his days during the past month. Since he focused on a sword form that suited him, Xiao Feng had come to enjoy practicing with the two, even though he had to play the role of a seasoned practitioner to maintain his predecessor’s image.
Muscle memory and honed instinct served as the basis of his advantage over the two alchemists, but it was far from enough to deal with the calibre of enemies his predecessor once had, a chasm that not even his Essence Cultivation Art could bridge.
Of course, Lianhua had too many responsibilities as a Senior Alchemist and Alchemist Jun needed to attend to her duties at the Alchemy Vaults, so it wasn’t possible for them to practice in the martial way every day.
On those days, Xiao Feng found himself practicing on his own. It was also where he encountered his first true setback since he had started cultivating.
Flowing Wind Art— Second Form, Raging Gale
Xiao Feng had envisioned a powerful force of wind, one capable of uprooting trees and blowing back the clouds in the sky, his blade serving a conductor for this avalanche of sweeping wind, an unstoppable force of nature that could not be contained or limited by any in its path.
For a moment there, he had felt a resonance with the wind, its tyrannical desire to be unbound by any force and unrestrained by any boundaries, to go wherever its nature willed it. Xiao Feng had felt the weight on the length of his blade, as he called upon that aspect of the wind, a Dao of the Wind that yearned for freedom.
He had swung his blade, offering an initial direction to the raging gale that he had marshalled under his Flowing Wind Art, setting it free of the shackles of even his own control.
The Second Form of the Flowing Wind Art, Raging Gale, was designed to drive an enemy or a group of enemies away from you, a means of self-defense without necessarily turning out lethal. That had been Xiao Feng’s intention in practicing the sword form, obtaining a method to extricate himself from dangerous situations without injuring his enemies, as far as it was possible to do so.
But where there should’ve been a raging gale buffeting away any impediments in its path, only a light breeze followed while the rest of the pressurized air scattered in random directions.
Xiao Feng tried again and again, even drawing upon his predecessor’s memories, only to summarily fail each time.
“You cannot evoke a gale only to ask it to be merciful,” His predecessor had chastised him. “A cultivator cannot hesitate when committing to a cut, lest he be cut down himself. Neither can a gale pause to consider which path to take. Ally or enemy, friend or foe, the raging gale will tread forth, even if it is destined to leave a trail of destruction in its wake.”
A concept that felt simple in theory, but proved far more difficult to impose onto reality. He had managed to instinctively call upon an aspect of the Wind Dao while practising the Fourth Form of the Flowing Wind Art, Dancing Breeze. His Dancing Breeze had been markedly different from his predecessors, but when it came to Raging Gale, it appeared that his own experiences and understanding was not enough.
Borrowing his predecessor’s memories did not affect his mastery over the second form, which led Xiao Feng to a realization. He could recall a roiling storm from his predecessor’s memories, one that sent violent gales whipping towards the Frontier Sect as it approached. He could visualize the scene as clear as crystal, but Xiao Feng could not truly feel the majesty of the storm as one would in that moment, could not feel the screaming fury contained within the arcs of thunder that cascaded down from the very heaven, could not appreciate the beauty of the scene juxtaposed by the primal fear it invoked.
That was his problem.
Visualizing the Dao did not mean he understood it.
Despite practicing multiple times a week along with the aid his predecessor offered, Xiao Feng had come no closer to mastering the second form on the thirtieth day than he had on his first.
He had a feeling that he was progressing far too smoothly for an outsider to the realm of Sephari, let alone the continent of Tian.
Thankfully, it was a problem for another day, for the month Beast Master Zen had asked for him to come back after had finally elapsed.
“A month has passed, then?” Beast Master Zen’s voice sounded out from within his lodge, before the door swung inwards and he stepped outside.
His Umbral Fang, Liulian, skulked behind him, a veil of darkness qi enshrouding her form. Two pools of ruby-red was all Xiao Feng could make out for certain, the rest of her form blurred by what he could only describe as more absence of light than darkness, an expanse of inky void that made her figure seem far larger than he remembered it to be.
Terrifying, Xiao Feng thought.
“That is not how we treat our guests,” Beast Master Zen chided, his tone a rumble of discontentment.
Almost immediately after, the disturbing veil of darkness Qi dropped, revealing the lithe black furred feline that seemed cute in comparison to the apparition she had fashioned herself after.
Actually, it is kind of cute how easily Beast Master Zen can make her drop that terrifying camouflage. Like a naughty child that gets caught in the act by their father, A small smile stretched across Xiao Feng’s features, as he decided that it was best to keep this particular thought to himself.
“I suppose I have no option but to teach you how to form a true bond then,” Beast Master Zen conceded with a sigh.
“You almost seem like you don’t want to,” Xiao Feng replied, giving the Beast Master a searching look.
“Souls are a complex subject-matter,” Beast Master Zen replied. “In the hands of the wrong person, it is dangerous knowledge to impart. Do not make me regret this decision.”
Xiao Feng met Beast Master Zen’s gaze and somberly nodded, before speaking, “I will not.”
“Good,” Beast Master Zen replied with a slow nod before turning around and seating himself on his porch. “Now reach out to Liulian.”
Xiao Feng gave Beast Master Zen a quizzical look, but no explanation followed.
The impasse awkwardly stretched on for a minute, before Xiao Feng gingerly reached out and placed his palm on Liulian, a vicious umbral fang’s crown.
Liulian responded with an annoyed growl.
“With your soul,” Beast Master Zen added, his voice tinged with amusement.
Xiao Feng’s cheeks reddened ever so slightly.
