Reforged from Ruin [Eldritch Xianxia Cultivation]

Wei Zin is experiencing a new realm of intimacy with the concept of bruises.

Part of him knows, for a fact, that the training could be far, far worse. Tales of broken bones and torn-open bodies are plenty common, especially when talking about hidden masters and special training methods, and She is nothing if not special.

Raika. Bloody, Broken, Burnt, Godflesh and would-be Demiurge, who has chosen him, who has accepted his pleading and his service. Raika, of a thousand thousand eyes, whose blood runs through the streets of the city she inhabits, whose flesh and flame and blood feed the natural world such that it overflows.

Raika, the woman who keeps beating his fucking ass.

The city of Singheart bustles around him as he walks, keeping a woven basket on one arm. He's stopped by three stalls so far, receiving commiseration from each one- he's become a bit of a fixture in the last few weeks, easily recognizable. His Tribe have long had an alliance with Singheart, as a part of the Many and All, and as one of its only remaining members, and the direct disciple of their most recent… well, not ruler, but certainly its new eminent power, people sure do remember him.

The fact that he's advanced through multiple steps of the Foundational Realm in only a few weeks time also makes him memorable.

Whatever someone might say about his master, they can't ever say that she's not effective. Between the resources she provides, the insight, and by fuck the training, he's felt like something's awoken in him, like a wall he didn't even know was there was blown away.

There's been a lot less meditation than he's used to, though. That's what the bruises are about.

He flinches back a bit as the basket shifts on his arm, the training weights inside it hitting a rough patch. Between them and the supplies he's come to collect, it weighs almost a third of his body weight.

He has a lot of mushrooms in there. The bolt of cloth, thick salt and sugar rocks, and selection of spices add their own mass, sure, but it's mostly just mushrooms, which most stalls are more than happy to offload to him.

The city has changed in the last month or so.

The fields are full and blooming, fruits and vegetables of all kinds seeming almost too willing to suck life out of the ground and sprout. The number of losses to spirit beast attacks has decreased, flowers have bloomed over the graves of those sacrificed to the roots, and the tree at the heart of the city seems slightly more alive than usual. It's hard to notice without an appraising eye, but Wei Zin has been appraising plants for artistic merits since he was an infant, and he can clearly recognize the new leaves that have sprouted, their veins edged with green and purple and ever-so-slightly tinting the color of the world around him. The light reflecting off the crystal blade at the heart of the city glows with a pitch shifted just the tiniest bit, and even in that small change he can see the city-spanning implications.

And then there's the mushrooms.

Whether it's a surge of Life Qi, a wandering Divine Beast that happens to have a fitting concept, or some other unknown effect (or, he thinks, his Master's work), there are now almost as many mushrooms in the city as there are leafy plants. The entire sewer system got backed up for a few days, and was only cleared after a brave team of cultivators wandered down below and found it completely blocked with wall-to-wall fungal growth.

But the Many and All are an industrious people, and a viable new food source isn't something to be passed up in a land where most living things will kill you on contact. A few days later, with a bit of hard labor and a fresh set of layered filters, and the town's markets have been chock full of experimental new product.

His master has apparently taken a hell of an interest, and so, every few days, out he goes on a well-deserved break from training to collect mushrooms.

He gets a bit of spending money for himself, which is nice, but mostly it's just errands. He has the impression that she sometimes wants a break from him almost as much as he wants a break from her.

He nods to the next stall he reaches, looking over their selection. The woman behind the counter smiles at him, fanning herself to fight off the noonday heat and gesturing to several baskets of mushrooms, some of them tipped in spotted red caps and others glowing a polite cyan.

"Fresh produce, just off the farms! My own particular blend, like you won't find anywhere else in the city!"

He nods politely, and doesn't comment on how every new blend is somewhere in the city at this point.

"What are the tested effects?" he asks instead.

"Ah, smart buyer! The flavor's where it's at, of course, but the effects, now that's what makes these batches special. The spotted ones I grew on a field of peppered compost, leftovers from my last harvest of chilis, and taste like it too! But eating the caps uncooked is a quick way to get sick and in trouble, and I swear the stuff that comes out of you can melt pottery! Perfect for a well-cooked and well-seasoned meal, but if you decide to trick a particularly annoying cousin, I can heartily recommend them for a variety of uses!

"The blue ones though, now those are special. Grew in a patch of light from the Heart, one of the little spots that's always lit, day or night. Tried feeding them compost, meat, other plants- none of it took! But my kid, see, he's a genuine talent he is, a proper cultivator in the making, and he decided to cycle near them one day. You should have seen how they sprouted up the day after! Twice the height and they multiplied, they did! A proper, actual spirit mushroom if I've ever seen one."

Wei Zin decides not to ask if she has ever seen one- before, at least. He's actually suspicious she might be right in this case. Their glow is subtle in the shade of the stall, but there's something to it, like a flow of currents, light-blue and ever-shifting…

He nods.

"I'll take both. As many as I can get for three small stones."

The merchant's eyes widen at that, and she sits up in her seat, fan falling to one side.

"Awfully high asking price, young master! I'm afraid that while this lowly one could never doubt the word of such a benefactor, she has been burned in business before. Perhaps this worthy benefactor might be so generous as to pay up-front, and this one shall be more than happy to accommodate you with a premium stock!"

He nods, pulling from the spatial bracelet around his wrist. Three small stones, each a little bigger than a knuckle, appear in his hand, glowing faintly with a light that is not a light, that is Qi.

The merchant quickly sits up and starts wrapping bundles, moving fast enough that he's sure she's using her own cultivation to facilitate the process. His outfit marks him out as someone of means, it is true, but he doesn't begrudge her the request to pay up front. These are interesting times in the city of Singheart, in the Overgrowth as a whole, and most of the city still uses pebbles rather than stones.

It takes but a few moments (and an uncomfortable amount of bowing and scraping, afterwards), but soon he's back on his way, his basket a bit heavier in turn. Despite this, and the three head-sized bundles of mushrooms he placed in it, it remains no bigger than a regular basket, comfortably cradled on his arm. At least when it doesn't slip and hit a bruise. Which is often.

He remains proud of that particular example of craftsmanship, almost as proud as he is of his bracelet. His art, and his tribe's art, really, the one passed down in his family, has always been that of weaving. The clothes he wears, multi-hued and glowing with vital grasses, are something he made himself. They were one of the first markers used to see if an initiate was worthy of learning more of the mysteries of his family's art, and but a first step- to weave something living, and have it survive and endure thereafter.

A spatial bracelet, and the spatial alterations done to the basket on his arm, are considerably more difficult. It took him days of planning, practicing, and if not for the fact that his master encouraged the act so very much, he wouldn't have attempted it for weeks longer.

He can't regret the act now, though. Her interest in his art, giving face to a technique surely her junior, was kindness enough, but her insight into what he remembered and shared with her helped him to complete this drastic next step. While the warriors of Morae, up north, wield spatial rings of metal and carved enchantment, many in the tribes of the Many and All prefer alternatives, and to honor his heritage by re-discovering how to make one such alternative kept him smiling for days.

And it kept his master distracted from telling him he runs too slowly or isn't dodging fast enough, which was also nice.

Even now, days after the fact, he can't help but marvel at them. Things that he made, things born from his knowledge and power and heritage. Nevermind how unbelievably convenient they are, they're proof of his progress, tangible and real and meaningful- and proof that he made the right choice.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

He makes sure to walk back at the precise moment he needs to, arriving back at his Master's abode exactly one hour after he left. Punctuality is a marker of perfection, after all, and he can aim for no less.

He enters the courtyard, walking up to the house of massive leaves and membranes, and is hit immediately by the smell of something cooking.

"Perfect timing!" he hears her echo from within. "We're entertaining guests!"

He cocks an eyebrow at that, and makes sure to adjust his bearing accordingly as he enters the home his master has been given.

The smell of thick, almost viscous honey fills the rooms, alongside a floral scent that feels familiar to him.Behind and beneath it, the scent of upturned earth, roiling with life and vitality but also a screaming, pitch-black hunger of ever-skittering.

Two of Singheart's great and powerful are here, their presence deftly contained to the room in which they sit. One of them sits, a barely-humanoid silhouette made of spiders and centipedes and more, while the other, seeming mostly human, looks pale, empty, and dark.

Wei Zin stumbles, just a step, as he enters, the sheer presence of Qi-wielders so far above him making his heart stutter. They could unmake him with a thought, transform and unmake him in unique ways with barely more effort than he would use to wipe a table clean.

They are also both sitting politely at a very mundane table, waiting patiently.

His master's head peeks out through the door at the far end, antlers preceding her out of the kitchen. She smiles at the sight of him, a touch of flour on her cheek only highlighting the rich tone.

"Come in, come in! I have big, big hopes for that blue shroom you got there, but the red ones might better suit my tastes. Always liked a bit of heat in the kitchen, hmm? Bring them over."

He follows obediently, bowing to their honored guests and stepping just a bit faster than is strictly polite to get past them. He enters the kitchen just in time to see his master strike a ball of something in a bowl, the thick scent of crisp apples, lemon and sugar wafting out to mingle with the auras of the beings in the other room.

"Now, I think I have the formula down this time. The trick is getting bird eggs, preferably smaller-sized, and then making sure that the butter hasn't aged poorly. Warm it, mix it with thick milk (can't be from a human, I checked), pound it with flour, a buttload of sugar, and some baking powder. I used apples, but something else crisp should work, chop them up, mix them with citrus, add darkened sugar, then mix those together. Then, add ginger, pulped, cinnamon, nutmeg, and drop hand-sized clumps into hot oil to fry."

"Master, I-"

"For the glaze, I'm making a caramel, add milk and eggs again, extra sugar, extra cinnamon, and I'm adding berries. They're just some red ones I found, but they taste great, and I think the sweetness will only blend more with the tartness. They should be edible, but be aware, there's a non-zero chance they'll make you bleed from your ears. But they will be delicious on the way down and up, so that's something."

"Master."

She blinks, looking up, half of one of the fried confections in her mouth. "Yeah?"

"Why are two of the esteemed powers of the city in our living room?"

"Oh!" She nods, swallowing the doughy apple-thing whole. "Well, I assume they're here to beg or bargain at me, because they love the feeling of being disappointed when I tell them no."

He hears the aforementioned grand powers shuffle a bit behind him, out in the main space, and works very hard not to sigh.

"Perhaps, master, they are merely seeking your approval on new proposals, or your aid in a grand venture that will surely assist you as much as them."

"You're too polite for your own good, pretty boy. They're here to ask me for things, obviously, and they're here because they don't think they can threaten me into it."

She reaches bare-handed into the oil, scooping out the next batch of fried apple-things and shaking the oil off of them before dumping them into a basket to cool. Another set of arms is busy making the glaze, while yet another is finishing the plating of a variety of dumplings, cutlets, rice bowls and salads. Wei Zin, meanwhile, simply places his own basket to one side, along one of the "home grown" pantries she's added to the space.

"Perhaps, honored Master, but I have found politeness to be a useful tool for my self-improvement. I would never dare to presume to know better than my Master, but perhaps I might be useful to you as a more… diplomatic approach?"

"Why yes, Zin, do feel free to approach the situation more diplomatically. Please, go on and prove to me the efficacy of your technique."

He very politely does not rebut her, or sigh, or so much as roll his eyes. Instead, he goes to make good on his word, turning to face the Warrior Realm beings that are sitting at the table.

"I apologize for my abrupt greeting, honored ones. How may this Wei Zin, disciple to the honored Raika, assist you this fine day?"

"It is only proper to show deference to one's master before one's guests, young one," says the pale-skinned Ro Aian, though his eyes don't seem to agree with his words. "We are honored to be guests in your master's home."

The collection of insects shaped like a person approximates a nod instead of speaking, a harsh buzz of skittering coming from it.

"I endeavor to be proper in as many of my endeavors as I can, honored ones. My master will bring out refreshments shortly, and has empowered me to speak on her behalf for the sake of diplomacy. Perhaps I might entertain the noble masters while we wait?"

"Fuck waiting, here's food."

Six arms reach out past him as his Master slaps a series of plates, baskets and dishes onto the table, filling it near to capacity in moments with the quantity of food she's managed to generate.

"You're guests, and seeing as we both live here, I'm amenable to being polite. But if you want me to do something for you, I'd recommend asking me before we eat, lest you spoil my hospitality after the fact."

Wei Zin finally allows a sigh to escape his lips.

Ro Aian, on the other hand, seems almost more comfortable with the idea, a slight tension escaping his pale frame.

"As I could only expect from such a… unique individual. I suppose directness truly is the best way to reach you, hmm?"

"Happens to be my preference, yup."

"Fine. We want to ask for permission for joint training for our disciples."

Wei Zin inhales, ever-so-slightly. He'll allow himself the breach of propriety, considering the subject matter.

His master has an eyebrow raised, arms crossed, staring down at the table.

And then… she sits. She's still taller than they are, but the act brings their gazes almost in-line with each other.

"Why?"

The insectile entity, whose name Wei Zin has never managed to find out, simply raises a faux-limb… and points at him.

"Yes, he's very pretty, but you can't have him."

"No, that's-" the pale cultivator sighs, the feeling of cave-deep sweetness further drooling into the world. A moment of frustrated pressure that, even still, almost makes Wei Zin slip, his breath catching at the weight it adds to the air. "It has not escaped our notice that you have honored the Shorassa tribe by taking in one of its few remaining sons, nor that you have elevated his cultivation by multiple steps in mere weeks. Whatever methods you've used… they show none of the obvious signs of forced enhancement, none of the keymarks of Qi deviation brought about from forcing one's growth past their level."

"He's pretty and talented, what can I say."

"...Be that as it may, such talent cannot be attributed solely to the student when the master is present. Whatever your origins, they have shaped many powers in you, distinct from what even our many experiences have shown us. Whatever methods you've developed to have him advance without harming him, they surely do not encompass the entirety of the knowledge we have obtained for our own students as well. Together, we can create a new generation, granting them a foundation greater than either of ours."

"Sounds noble."

His Master reaches out, grabs an apple-glazed thing, and takes a bite. Eating is something she takes very seriously, and eating in front of others is an even better sign. Still, he holds his breath, standing behind her and to one side.

"What's so terrible that you've swallowed your pride, and come to ask me for help?"

Ro Aian spreads his hands apart, shrugging with more art. "The war is coming. We can all feel it. The Pack is calling, and its Apexes get louder by the day. The Empire sends out more and more forays into the jungles, and the Wall of the west is only growing bloodier."

"So you want better-trained bodies to throw into the grinder, is that it?"

Another small uptick of Qi- he's not used to being insulted quite so openly, and it shows. Wei Zin goes to step forward, to say something, but a gesture from his Master is enough to have him stay silent.

Ro Aian takes a breath, visibly restraining himself… and then exhales, low and quiet. And then…

"War is coming, whether we like it or not. War is a beast beyond battle, and it feeds on strong and weak alike, but feeding on the strong looks more like swallowing whole the weak. The stronger we are, the more options present. I do not take disciples lightly. I would prefer it if they carried my name well, and lived long to tell of it."

Silence.

Then, the sound of chewing, as his master takes another glazed apple-thing.

"And you?" she asks, turning to the insectile entity to one side, whose depths are bottomless and whose skittering legs are endless. "Have you anything to add? Or merely an honored friend, here to provide support?"

Silence, but for the buzzing of arthropod life.

A series of limbs reach out, chittering bug-things crawling forward across the table… and picking up an apple-thing.

"Weeee… heard…. There are… good snacks here."

The creatures crawl and skitter over the food, taking back one of the aforementioned treats- and hum.

"We are glad…. To have heard… correctly."

Wei Zin's master nods, a smug sort of look on her face. "Damn right."

"Alright, Ro. You got a deal. But only because your friend here has taste. I appreciate a sentient megacolony with taste."

Wei Zin lets out a breath, tension escaping. Fuck.

"I don't know what you're relieved for, idiot," she grumbles, making him tense up again immediately. "This just means you're going to have a bunch of rivals. You sure you're ready for that?"

He snorts, then flinches at the noise, and then… snorts again. A bad habit, one that he's picking up from her.

"Yes, master. I believe I am."

She snorts in return.

"Glad to hear it. It'll do you good to have someone other than me beating you for once."

Propriety says he should bow and agree when his master speaks.

Instead, he gives a little smile of his own.

"In this, I may have to disappoint you, master."

He can hear the smile in her voice as she grins.

"Even better."