Book 7: Chapter 43: Academy

Book 7: Chapter 43: Academy

“Again,” said Sen.

The townspeople, under the guidance of Dai Bao, started the form over again as Sen and Uncle Kho watched. The elder cultivator had seemed both curious and dubious about Sen’s project to train the mortals to defend themselves against spirit beasts. As they worked through the form again, though, he could see Uncle Kho's gaze turn considering as he evaluated the townspeople. He reserved judgment, though, electing to maintain his guise as a simple visitor for the moment. He’d gotten more than one curious look from the practicing mortals, but they all had enough respect for Sen not to push for more information than he was willing to share. Sen was struggling not to send everyone home just so he could sate his curiosity about Uncle Kho’s thoughts, but he resisted the urge. Everyone had made time for this, despite the demands of their own jobs and lives. He could do them the basic courtesy of giving this an honest effort.

So, he slowly walked around the group and made mental notes. He saw some incremental improvement here and there, but nothing fundamental had changed. The handful of people capable of going further would need more direct instruction, while everyone else had reached their peak. Sen wondered if this was what running a sect was like for the core sect members and elders. Did they invest just enough time and effort to pick out the handful of unpolished gems, and then focus their attention on those few? He had the worrying feeling that, while things might not be quite that simple, the transition from outer sect disciple to inner sect disciple was probably handled in almost exactly that fashion. However, while most people’s skills weren’t progressing, other things that were just as important to surviving a battle with spirit beasts were improving. Things like stamina.

During the first month or two, everyone’s endurance had been pitiful. It wasn’t that everyone was in terrible condition. A few, the ones who spent most of their time working with their minds rather than their hands, had been almost beyond hope. Most of the townspeople worked hard at some kind of manual labor. The problem was that the labor they were doing didn’t necessarily translate into strength in the right parts of the body or sustained endurance. Wang Bo had been a good example. Sen knew that the young man could go out and do the labor related to cutting down trees all day long. On top of that, he was still young even by mortal standards. He was likely at the very peak of what would be his strength and health. Yet, in the beginning, an hour of sustained practice with a spear had left him nearly beyond exhaustion. He was forced to use muscles he didn’t normally use, or use them in ways he didn’t normally use them. It had been like that for nearly everyone.

Now, everyone who had lasted in the training could keep it up for a couple of hours. Sen had watched as this part of the community had grown leaner and stronger. While it wasn’t a substitute for body cultivation, he believed that using a rotation strategy would let them outlast most low-level beasts. Whether they believed it was another matter. They had lucked out so far that no other beasts had attacked the town, so the question hadn’t been put to the test as of yet. After the group finished the form, Dai Bao had them pair off and do some light sparring with blunted spears Sen had made for the purpose. Everyone present had developed enough skill and control not to injure each other out of pure ignorance or carelessness, which meant Sen no longer felt a need to oversee every spar. Instead, he moved between the pairs, sometimes just watching and sometimes offering pieces of advice.

The small group he’d identified as having more potential, a group including Wang Bo and Li Hua, he instructed to stay when everyone else left. It took a bit for the practice hall to clear out, but eventually the only people remaining were Sen, Uncle Kho, and the people he’d told to stay. That group of five people shuffled nervously as he approached them. He hadn’t told them why he wanted them to stay, so he couldn’t rightly fault them for their nerves. He gave them all a gentle smile to try to alleviate their nerves. It didn’t seem to help. I guess I better just get on with it, he thought.

“You five have the most room left for growth. So, I’m going to offer you the opportunity for some additional training,” he said and held up a hand to quiet any immediate questions. “There will likely be some changes happening here soon, which means that this extra training will come with extra responsibilities. I know that all of you have responsibilities already, so don’t rush to agree. If you don’t have the time or the energy to take on more, I will not hold it against you. Give the matter some thought, and then let me know your answers.”

He could see the questions burning in their eyes. They wanted to know about the training and the changes he’d been very vague about. He waited to see if they’d give in to that curiosity or if they’d do as he’d asked. It was a test of sorts to measure their self-discipline. Wang Bo’s lips twitched several times as Sen looked at him with some bland amusement on his face. The young man finally wrangled his curiosity into submission and left after a hasty goodbye. The others wandered out, casting curious looks in his direction, until he was left facing just Li Hua. He lifted an eyebrow at her.

“Yes?” he asked, certain she’d ask about the changes.

“Who is that man?” she asked, nodding toward Uncle Kho.

“You know who he is. That’s Uncle Kho. You’ve met several times now.”

“I know that’s how you introduced me to him. But who is he? Why is he here?”

“Oh, now those are two very different questions.”

“Will you answer either of them?” she pressed.

Sen considered her for a moment before he looked over to Uncle Kho and shrugged. Those weren’t Sen’s secrets to tell, so he manfully made it someone else’s problem. Uncle Kho smirked at Sen, clearly aware that Sen was dodging responsibility, and walked over. He politely inclined his head to Li Hua.

“It’s nice to see you again, Li Hua,” said Uncle Kho. “I gather you have questions.”

“I, that is, yes. I do,” she said, suddenly nervous as Uncle Kho gave her a very direct look.

“Go ahead,” he said.

Sen kept his face perfectly neutral. Uncle Kho was having a little fun at her expense, which Sen didn’t approve of but couldn’t see a way to object to at the moment.

Li Hua hesitated before she blurted out, “Who are you?”

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“Kho Jaw-Long,” answered Uncle Kho immediately.

Li Hua blinked at him with an uncertain look on her face. It was clear the name didn’t mean anything to her, but equally clear she had sensed something about the man that unsettled her. She seemed to be looking for a question that would provide some clarity and was having limited success.

“Are you a cultivator? Like him?” she ventured, even more hesitant.

“A cultivator? Yes. Like him?” asked Uncle Kho with a look toward Sen. “No. He’s much more talented than I am.”

When Sen rolled his eyes, Uncle Kho amended his statement.

“In some areas.”

There was a long silence after that which prompted Sen to speak. “Just ask, Hua.”

“Then, there’s all the terror and screaming and foundation formation cultivators openly weeping. Who has time for that?”

“It does sound tedious. Although, there’s a rumor going around that you already killed one nascent soul cultivator. What’s one more?” asked Uncle Kho with laughter in his eyes.

“Oh, you know how it is. Achieve one minor miracle and everyone expects you to do it again. People are so greedy. Besides, you have to join a sect to get any benefits from it, and mortals can’t join.”

“So, what it is that you do have in mind that is apparently like a sect, but not actually sect, and that mortals can join.”

“I’m thinking that I’ll open an academy. A weapons academy with a focus on the spear and the jian.”

“And you’ll let mortals join.”

“I will.”

“What about cultivators?”

“That is the question. I don’t know. If I let cultivators join, I’d have to train them myself or recruit other cultivators to serve in that capacity since I can’t have them mixing with the mortals. Even if they promise to behave, I don’t believe for one second that some cultivator wouldn’t immediately fall into that superior attitude almost immediately. If one of them injured one of the mortal students, I’d have to act, which could well mean a mountain of trouble I’d rather avoid. I could maybe bypass some of the problem by only accepting wandering cultivators, but that could create its own problems.”

“Like sect cultivators showing up to challenge your students because they’re wandering cultivators with no real backing?” asked Uncle Kho.

“Exactly, which would mean that I’d have to be their backing, and I don’t feel like dueling all the time. The other option is that I’d accept wandering cultivators and sect members. If I do that, I can exert some control over the problem, but I don’t see how to avoid making it a problem in the first place. Basically, dealing with them would be a serious drain on resources. Plus, I’d have to monitor them to make sure they don’t abuse the mortals in town.”

“So, why not make it a mortal-only academy?”

“I really thought about it. It’s what I wanted to do originally. But it won’t work,” said Sen.

“No?”

“There are already cultivators in town wanting to become the students of Judgment’s Gale. If I open an academy and exclude cultivators, I’d be right back to dueling all the time.”

“It seems like you’ve at least thought about the problems. So, what do you need from me?”

“Advice. Assuming you couldn’t just leverage your fearsome reputation to keep everyone in line, how would you limit the problems?”

Uncle Kho stood in quiet contemplation for several minutes, idly stroking his beard, and making noncommittal noises from time to time.

“You can’t avoid the problems. Not completely. These are people we’re talking about and some of them are stupid. Some will think that the rules don’t apply to them because they’re nobles, or cultivators, or because they come from a sect. So, one option is that you make rules that include incredibly harsh punishments, and then enforce them mercilessly. You will end up having to kill a few people and deal with the consequences of that. Most people will fall in line fast enough if you execute a few who can’t follow basic rules like do not bother the mortals. You can also ask for oaths to the heavens, but that’s a losing proposition. Even those with no ill intent will avoid taking those oaths. They’d rather miss out on an opportunity than play dice with the heavens.”

“They don’t want to risk the heavens interpreting their oath?”

“Would you?”

“No,” admitted Sen. “I definitely would not. Any other thoughts?”

“Some logistical ones. You should charge cultivators outrageously for joining because they’re going to be a hassle for you.”

“I’d planned on doing that.”

“You should also create a separate training space for them,” added Uncle Kho.

“Right. That would let me limit their interactions with the mortal students as much as possible. I suppose I’d need to provide somewhere for students to live as well. It’s not like the town has a lot of extra housing.”

As they talked through the necessities, Sen became increasingly sure that this was the right choice. It should let him avoid actively antagonizing the sects in the region, train more mortals, and it would even give Wu Meng Yao something real to do. It would also give him an excuse to turn away cultivators who wanted cultivation training while also providing them with an alternative. It wasn’t perfect, but very little in life was perfect. He could live with a little imperfection if it let him manage some of his problems.