Kind Young Master [Progression Fantasy - Cultivation]

"A successful hunt," Mah Goshung said, nose twitching with the scent of smoke and bone.

Much of the smoke was caught within the peak of the roof, a gray fog that escaped through the gaps in the tiles only when it felt the need. Racks of stripped saplings, bound with vines, ran from one end of the shrine to the other. Long strips of meat hung drying in the smoke, an inexpert harvest, Fushuai was aware. Though for the first large animal he had butchered to be a chimera, he thought he had done well enough.

A pile of bones, large and small, sat on either end of the racks. Two skulls, one feline, the other belonging to the serpent that had nearly killed him. Collecting the flat stones to build his fire rings had taken as long as anything else. A rough framework altogether, but he was proud of what he had done and pleased that his mentor had not immediately insulted the effort.

The Asura sniffed again, ears flicking back. "If only your craftsmanship had been as successful."

And there it was. he couldn't help but smile a little. "The hunt was not mine to boast of," he said. "This creature followed me here. I think it was watching me for days. I'm lucky it didn't attack until I challenged it."

Goshung moved closer to examine the bones, claws clicking. "One beast for all of this? There should be no chimera on this peak. The land is too pure."

Opposite the racks of meat, the skin was folded neatly in another corner of the shrine. He had scraped them quickly and dried them first. He motioned to the pile. "There were scars in its flesh, and stitching near the wings. Do you think someone brought it here? Or could it have escaped its maker and fled into the wild?"

Chimera could occur "naturally" in areas where the aura was chaotic or corrupt, at least that was what the scrolls said. Otherwise, their existence was exclusively due to the experiments and folly of unorthodox cultivation.

Goshung's eyes darkened, and he was quiet for so long that Fushuai half wondered if he was having a sudden moment of insight. Then the demon-wolf shook his head. "You did well to end its life."

It wasn't an answer to his question.

"It nearly ended mine." He straightened. "The poison was a lesson for me. I have begun drawing Yin."

Goshung nodded as if this revelation were of no consequence, though it marked a step Fushuai had for years refused to dream he would attain. "Was there anything inside? Not a core, a beast with a core would have killed you outright. Any organ you didn't recognize?"

"It had a dao seed," he drew a glistening, red-black grape from the sleeve of his tunic. "But it is strange. I can't read its element."

"Oh?" Goshung raised an eyebrow. "They taught you of the seeds? I thought backwaters only hunted cores."

"I had never seen one before," Fushuai admitted, placing the tiny organ in his mentor's outstretched palm. "But the Ash Eater sect is not as ignorant as you make it out to be."

He had never much cared for the sect that ruled in Ashen City, but they were not brainless. It was common knowledge that Spirit beasts advanced much as cultivators did, though their peak was not as high. With enough time and qi, any animal could become a pure-body beast. The next stage was the formation of a dao seed, something of a pseudo-core. It was all done on instinct. Animals rarely became sapient before the development of a true core.

The Asura sniffed the seed. "They still choose their Paths before foundation formation, don't they?" Seeing he had won that argument, he went on. "This is a hunger seed. In the normal course of things, this beast might have found a proper aspect, but deviations always smell like this. It would have gone mad eventually, if it wasn't already."

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"Hunger is not an element." Fushuai knew the Asura wasn't lying to him, but what he had said didn't make sense. "It isn't a fundamental concept. How could a seed be aligned with hunger?"

"Not fundamental?" Goshung punctuated the question with a transformation. His wolf body collapsed into smoke as his devil body seemed to stand up out of it. He snatched the seed and it disappeared into whatever he used for his storage space. Though he wore no rings, immortals had their own ways of doing things. "You can think of it as a derivation of fire, if that salves your scholarly sensibilities. But hunger is what it is. I will give this back to you when you are ready to absorb it."

"Absorb?" Fushuai blinked. Beast cores and seeds were an integral part of advancement for most cultivators, but using them was not without risks. "You said it was corrupted. A deviation. Wouldn't it be dangerous for me to use it?"

"Psh. What isn't dangerous in the Jianghu? That twisted root you are so proud of will be glad to have it when you are better prepared. Until then, you said you can drink from the shrine now? Good. You are ready for the pills your master left you."

The devil-man flicked one taloned hand, and Fushuai caught the little silk pouch that appeared in the air between them. Within it were three pressed ovals, each about the size of a fingernail.

"He didn't mention pills."

"They are from the Heaven-Draw Flowers you gathered by the river. They wouldn't have done you much good then, but now, you are very nearly worth wasting resources on."

Fushuai gave his thanks with a martial salute, careful not to bow.

"Bah," Goshung waved him off. "Don't thank me. It's your master who spoils you. You can take one after we return."

"Return?"

But the Asura was already turning. His obsidian skin sprouted fur, and a moment later, he was a wolf again, and it was up to Fushuai to chase him or be left behind. Upslope, first following a thin trail, and then fighting through the brush. Despite the size of the demon-wolf, his passage never seemed to make things easier for Fushuai.

The way steepened until he was using his hands as much as his feet to ascend, though even with a steadily increasing pace, he found he was not out of breath. He coaxed the energy from his dantian into his meridians, empowering his limbs, and was soon climbing as nimbly as any ape, leaping as deftly as any cat. The Asura was always ahead of him, above him, forever moving exactly fast enough to maintain his lead.

Fushuai took it as a challenge, increasing his speed and taking joy in the new strength in his body and spirit. He caught the edge of a rock no wider than a finger's width, and used it to kick off the cliff and run across a treetop fast enough that its branches barely stirred.

Had it only been a month since he left his father's home? It felt like another lifetime. Though he might still be green as a spring shoot, he was a cultivator now in truth.

The wolf, of course, needed no treetops; he could run on the air itself if he chose.

Their chase, if it could be called that, went on for nearly an hour. The sun had already disappeared behind the Spine of the World, and he was using his spiritual sense as much as his eyes to navigate.

A parasol tree, soaring hundreds of feet above its fellows, spread its crown in a vast disk. Well named, these trees had hardly any branches aside from the uppermost, and this one did appear to be a colossal parasol raised to shade the hills below. The wolf leapt from the ridge they had ascended, crossing the intervening space in a black flash.

Fushuai had a more difficult time. The gap was wider than the outer courtyard of the Gao estate, so he took it at a run and caught the tip of a branch with one hand at the outermost edge of the tree's crown, barely avoiding a plummet to the forest below.

The Asura was waiting for him near the center of the crown above, once again wearing the form of a man. One foot rested on the heartwood spire, the other hung in the air.

"Still slow," he said. "Don't make me regret giving you this opportunity."

Fushuai, balancing on a branch, gave another salute in acknowledgement. He had no idea what they were meant to do here, unless it was to kill a phoenix. They were said to roost only on parasol trees, and one of this size would certainly be an attractive resting place for a heavenly bird.

He hoped that was not the case.

"Today," Goshung spread his arms wide. "We begin your true education in combat."

Swords, spears, knives: all manner of bladed things appeared around him like the reflections of stars glimpsed in disturbed water. Their tips pierced the air, and the rest of them followed shortly after, a host of weapons cutting their way out of a hidden world to shine in this one. They swirled around the Asura in a vast array, and a few darted forward, then snapped back as if they were leashed.

"Which should I choose?" Fushuai asked, eyes darting. They were moving too fast to take a full accounting, but even one who had little desire to draw blood could not but covet the sea of treasures before him. A pacifist could still appreciate the artistry of a blade.

"Choose?" Goshung laughed. "These are all mine. Find yourself a stick."

A guandao* slipped from the pack and shot toward him, its scripted blade flickering with qi.

Fushuai tried to dodge, and very nearly succeeded.