The Greatest Fight [progression cultivation isekai]

Fly Like a Bird

Every few days, the old man's granddaughter would come to visit her grandpa at the farm; the only time the teacher would be on his best behavior, avoiding farts, belches, profanities and other uncouth behavior. His eyes would light up each time he would hear her laugh as she played with the animals.

"Your next teacher is none other than the greatest, best-est, little girl, ever. My granddaughter—Mattina."

"I'm 20, grandpa," she responded, rolling her eyes.

Rosso leaned over to whisper in the boy's ear and said: "first the farming, then the pets—now his granddaughter? What is she going to teach us—gossip?"

"Shut it, desert man. She will teach you two weaklings Pan's Gift," explained the teacher. "All you have to do is play hide-and-seek and catch her. She knows how to fly, and you don't, so if you want to advance, you are also going to have to learn how to fly—fly like a bird," he said in a silly voice, whistling and flapping his arms as he walked away, causing Mattina to roll her eyes again.

"Fly?" asked Roa in disbelief, as their frowns turned to curious smiles.

The game went on for weeks, and while finding the girl was no real challenge, reaching up to her became impossible. She hid above the giant tree, over the dead forest outside of the oasis, and even on top of the giant chandelier. There was no way to trick their way to success this time. They had to fly. The students meditated diligently, but only Roa managed to levitate a few centimeters off the ground. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make his friend lose his cool, storming off without a word.

"Do not compare yourself to others, for you will only cause yourself pain," said Vesper, popping up from behind Rosso.

"I try just as hard as he does—work just as much on it, and yet—he is faster, he is stronger, he is always one step ahead of me," thundered the man.

"Every path is different. You are where you need to be."

Roa listened nearby, acting as if still deep in meditation.

"Spare me your profound bullshit, grandpa. I've spent my whole life listening to wise, old, holy men tell me what to do, how to live, and what to think. Each time, my village, my people—everyone—told me I wasn't good enough. I wasn't the person I should be; I didn't live my life like I was supposed to. No matter what I did, it was never—good—enough. Never," he said raising his voice, walking away.

After two weeks, Rosso finally managed to levitate a few centimeters off the ground, as well. However, to his continued annoyance, his talented friend floated even higher—though still far from flying.

"Alright, I think this is as good as it gets for you two—for now. Your issue is not technique, but your levels of aura," explained Vesper.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that while you pretty much know what you are doing, skill-wise—you got no juice to lift off of the ground. You got the auras of two ladybugs. It's pathetic. You're not meditating enough."

"All we do is fricking meditate," said Rosso, leaving as he threw his arms in the air.

Roa went after him, and placed his hand on his shoulder, but his friend shrugged it off.

"Man—leave me alone. This training is garbage. You can stay here with the old weirdo all you want. You seem to be his favorite, anyway. I don't know if there's any point in me being here," said Rosso walking away.

After dinner, the old man rummaged through the shed where his gardening tools were and pulled out a rusty, old iron.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"I've gotten you both a little present for your continued progress," Vesper said, a smile appearing behind his white beard, still dirty with food.

"Are we going to iron your clothes now too?" Rosso scoffed.

"This is the world-famous Magic Iron of Missus Bumblefudge, the flying maid of Wippler Bottoms. Have you heard of it?" said the teacher, smiling and nodding repeatedly as his eye began twitching profusely again.

The students stood there in silence, their eyes conveying a simmering annoyance.

"Well—you two have no idea what kind of present this is. It allows the holder to fly at great speeds—just what you need, considering you're pretty much stuck to the ground, like rocks in a crevice. All you got to do is press the steam button over and over to go faster." He raised the iron up as the chord dangled like a dead snake.

Rosso smelled something foul and said: "did you just fart?"

"Yes—good practice for letting go of what you don't need," answered the old teacher.

"That's it. I'm done. I'm packing my stuff," Rosso said as he walked away, shaking his head.

While the red-cloaked man gathered his belongings in the shed, a rushing sound grew louder in the distance until it became a deafening roar. The Sunflower climbed the tall walls of the oasis and witnessed the entire forest being swept away by a brown torrent of water, muck, and debris.

"A flood? One of the walls of the Palace must have opened somewhere upstairs. I wonder if people downstream will drown," the boy murmured to himself as he stared at the devastation.

The flood raged for hours, tearing down everything it touched. He sat listening to the rushing water, lost in thought. He didn't know what to do. Should he leave too? Rosso was his only friend now. The fear of being alone gripped him, as anxiety overtook his wavering spirit. The master's training bore some fruits, but surely not enough to do anything against the enemy that was waiting ahead. He tried the Compass, but his heart was as turbulent as the torrent below. No flame came out.

"What the hell am I going to do now?" he said, letting out a sigh.

The water rose for hours until it almost reached the top of the walls. Then in the distance, he noticed a silhouette floating atop the waters, unmoved by the chaos surrounding it. He called out to it, wondering if it was someone who needed help, but the person did not respond. As he blinked, it disappeared. Roa thought it strange, as he turned his gaze towards his feet dangling off the edge.

When he raised his eyes, he froze, paralyzed in fear. Sitting next to him on the wall was a monster. It was twice his size, and made completely of mud, branches, rocks, and other debris. Black tar oozed out of it, plopping besides him like pus from putrid sores. Garbage bags, pieces of furniture, and even the wheel of a bike made up the creature's body. Roa sat there, unable to say a word at the gruesome sight.

Then, it spoke with a deep, gurgling voice.

"Our calm, pristine waters. The butterflies, the dragonflies, the frogs and the grasshoppers, they used to dance above us on the lily pads," said the creature, with a disturbing weep.

Roa mustered the courage to speak: "who—who are you? What do you want from me?"

It turned towards the boy, opening its large mouth. Letting out a stench that forced him to gag, it roared a blood curdling scream.

"We want you all to leave!"

The boy remained still, holding his breath. The torrent engorged even more, as trees were swept away, the violent waves crashing against the walls of the oasis.

"Look at what you have done," it continued. "You cannot respect anything. The poor butterflies, the dragonflies, the frogs, and the grasshoppers. Where did they all go? They're all gone," it said, weeping again. "You have violently disrupted the sacred rhythms of Nature. Now, watch it violently attempt to bring back the Sacred Balance," it said, lifting its arm as it pointed.

The boy looked at the devastation below, the dark waters swallowing everything whole. The monster's body then collapsed against the side of the wall, melting with a gurgle, as if the energy that held it together had left. The muddy debris fell into the waters, like vomit trickling down the side of a swirling toilet. Eventually, Rosso hopped onto the wall to see what chaos was ensuing outside.

"Looks like I'm leaving tomorrow," he said in a somber tone.

Roa sat there, spaced out for a while, his heart split between trying to convince his friend, and trying to process what he had just witnessed. The two didn't say a word, until eventually he snapped out of it.

"Rosso—you're the only friend I have here. I have no idea where I am, no idea where I am going, I don't even know who I am. People keep saying I am some famous guy, but I just feel alone and afraid—that's it. I don't know if I will ever get to go home, nor do I know where my home even is. I am looking for the only person who ever made me feel alright—looking for her in a place so vast that you never meet the same person twice." His friend listened without saying a word. "If you leave, I am not sure what will happen, but I know that this terrible journey has been better since you tried to choke me to death in the desert that day."

Rosso smiled and nodded.

"To be fair—you looked just like one of the bandits that took my stuff," he said.

They stared silently at the destruction below, as the waters began to slowly recede at last.

"I got a feeling that if you go—we'll never meet again. Just stay until you find that doctor you are looking for. Then, if our paths split, then that's alright," Roa shrugged, "we'll go our separate ways."