The Greatest Fight [progression cultivation isekai]

The Pain of the World

Rosso shot his friend a worried glance, pleading for them to leave, but the Sunflower's eyes were gleaming, his heart pounding as the energy of the crowd swallowed any desire to not get involved. They made their way to an inn, as people patted him on the back.

"No one has ever defeated Broxos the Invincible with one blow!" said one smiling kid following along as he punched the air.

"Did you see that? He took down two whole clan leaders in less than a minute!" said another, jumping up and down.

Inside the packed bar, the crowd pressed around the two travelers, offering drinks and eager conversation. Laughter echoed, but the mood shifted when the doors burst open—gang members stormed in, vowing vengeance for their fallen leaders. Roa stepped forward, calm and resolute. He raised a hand to silence the room and said, "I have no desire to fight. I came here to help," he said as some laughed.

"Why do you even care? Who the hell are you anyway?" asked a random lady in the chaos.

"I'm nobody—one of many. I have suffered at the hands of the common enemy, like you. My teacher was kidnapped, as was his granddaughter—as was my girl—by the same people that starve you, and make you sick. They took me from my home. They stole my life—my past, the same way they are stealing your future. Yet, you won't move past the ridiculous differences that separate you. Can't you see—that if we worked together, by tomorrow, things would begin to change?"

"Yeah, right—we have no power. What could we ever do?" said a young woman, her words causing many in the crowd to lower their heads.

Roa noticed the somber looks on their faces.

"You're wrong—dead wrong. That thought—is just one more chain around your minds and hearts. Power comes from, belongs to, and shall always return—to the people," he said as the crowd stared. "That's the truth. We made the mistake of giving them our power, long ago, letting them abuse it—do with it as they pleased for far too long. We accepted this horrible status quo—that's how the problem started and continues. We went along with it, accepting it as normal—inevitable. Now look at what they did with our power, look at this—abomination they created. Well—I say that it's about time we take back what's ours—before it's too late." The bar erupted in both laughter and cheers, shoves and support. "Keep fighting one another over the scraps, until one day the rulers won't even grace you with those. Who will be left to fight then? Your children?" shouted the Sunflower.

A long pause followed. Roa's eyes moved from one face to the next, seeing many things: fear and resolve, exhaustion and surprise, anger—and hope.

"I will fight the common enemy, alone if I have to. I—refuse—I refuse to live in a hopeless world. I will not live like a coward. I would rather die fighting for what is right—with, or without you. I have no other choice. It's about time you realize—that neither do you." He paused, took a deep breath in, and closed his eyes, as he shook his head. "I'm tired too. I want to just—ignore it all. I want to give up—but do you know what will happen if I do?" his brow furrowed, "nothing—absolutely nothing will happen. Things will only get worst—so I choose to fight. I choose hope, instead," he said with a smile, as he nodded at them. "I choose hope."

The crowd listened. Eyes that for so long had been used to crying, now glittered with a tiny spark of something more. The boy's unusual words must have felt like a breath of fresh air for once blowing through the thick, toxic haze. The gang leaders backed off. A wall of excited people made it impossible to get through anyway. The remainder of the night unfolded in a haze of drinks and conversation. The boy argued and pleaded with people to put their differences aside and join forces—to fight as One.

"As One—only this way will we have a chance to live in a better world," the Sunflower said, raising his index finger up. "As long as we are divided, the enemy has the upper hand."

The floor grew sticky with spilled booze, shattered pints drawing groans from the bartender. The moonlight shone through the polluted sky and the dirty windows. The inebriated group passed around magical instruments conjured from the magical ocarina, handing them to anyone eager to play—or make noise. Months of stress forgotten, the Jumpers joined the chaos of celebration.

"Let's just—'check it out'—that's what you said," Rosso glanced at the boy with a resigned and annoyed look in his eyes. "This is your idea of 'just checking things out,' I'm guessing?" he lowered his glass onto the counter, but, too drunk to judge the distance, sent it crashing to the floor instead. The smash forced another moan out of the bartender, who was now hitting the booze himself. "Well, at least we get some free drinks for the trouble," said the man from the desert.

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"Your world was green once, wasn't it?" Roa asked, his drunk stare digging into his friend's eyes. Rosso didn't answer. "They're going to make every world a desert. They're going to take everything for themselves, until there is nothing left. It will never be enough."

After enough pints, the boy from Earth stumbled out of the bar to relieve himself. His steps unsteady, veering left and right, he made his way onto the beach of the nearby lake, stumbling unto an empty pier. Unaware he had reached the edge, he plunged face-first into the flat blocks of concrete below. His cheek met the hard surface with a thud, but the alcohol dulled the sting. With a defiant scream, he pushed himself up. It felt as though all of Existence itself was pressing down at that moment, as if it were telling him not to get up, challenging him to just—comply. Yet, with a roar, he surged to his feet. He collapsed back onto the pier, his body too drunk to stand anymore.

His eyelids slowly opened and closed as he stared at the moon. His chest burned. He thought of Eralay, wondered if she was alright, or even still alive. He wondered if her memories had been replaced, whether he even existed in her heart anymore. He remembered the feeling of being alone, lost in the strange, foreign worlds he had struggled through to get here. He wondered how many people were suffering like him at that moment—imagining millions. It felt like someone reached into his chest and was twisting his raw heart with an iron fist, forcing tears to fill his eyes, and run down his cheeks. He thought of his friend Rosso, his dead world, and his quest to understand what happened to his father. He remembered the giant tree of the oasis, burning along with its kind, little Kami; he thought of the dead bird on the beach, and the children watching the fight in the streets. He tried to remember home—his real home, Earth, and his heart filled with pain.

"They even took that away from me."

He suddenly screamed at the sky, his voice cracking as tears poured like a flood he could no longer hold back. He howled, as if he were shouting at the whole Universe itself, a raw release of pain that emptied his lungs and left him trembling.

"How could you let so much pain exist?" he shouted into the dark night. "Why?" he repeated over and over. "What did we ever do to deserve all this?"

He cried with all his strength, letting the weight of his pain pour out, holding nothing back. However, at that moment, it wasn't just his own suffering that made him weep—for Roa felt the overwhelming, profound, and immense pain of the world in his heart that night. He was humbled by it, healed from it, and reborn within it.

Behind him on the beach stood many of the friendly locals from the bar, who had stumbled out to also relieve themselves after a long night of drinking. Roa turned his head and noticed them staring at him in silence. Their skin must have filled with goosebumps; his screams stirring something deep within them, causing them to stand there, frozen like wide-eyed statues. Perhaps, they understood that pain all too well, though they'd never seen anyone release it so freely before.

That day, the Sunflower's impressive fighting skills had impressed many, but it was this raw and cathartic moment of agony that swayed the rest, turning them into the first believers of a nameless cause. Eventually, the few who had listened to his cries came to him, lifting him gently by the shoulders, helping him back to the bar.

"Why were you crying last night? Why did you scream like that?" one of them asked, taking a bite of their breakfast, as the bartender wobbled around the table, still cleaning up the mess.

"Last night, I felt my pain, and your pain—as if it were one thing. I felt the pain of the world. I've never felt anything like it before. I couldn't hold it inside any longer," said Roa, his eyes glimmering with a strange, new light—a look of peace that had never graced his face before.

Then the boy's face turned dark at once; his heart filled with guilt as his eyes glanced down, staring at the floor. The image of the giant burning tree flashed in his mind. He had brought trouble to the peaceful oasis. Now it was all gone—and it was his fault. He cursed his own name, wishing he had been more careful telling his story to those Jumpers at the bathhouse. He then asked the others if they knew where the authorities might be keeping Vesper and Mattina.

"Some of our friends and leaders of the revolt are being held captive too. Your buddies are probably in the same place as ours—a large prison complex in the city called the Hole," explained a woman.

"That's where we will start then," said the boy, causing Rosso to jolt his head up, waking up as he rested it on the table. "We will infiltrate that prison. We will not only free our friends and yours, but we will begin to free ourselves too in the process," explained the Sunflower, standing up, towering above the rest. "Then, with their help, we will make the keepers of the chains pay for the pain they have caused."

The young man from Earth spent the day convincing the crowd, arguing with many, and brainstorming a plan.

"You win, man," Rosso said, placing his hand on the boy's shoulder. "You're right. They'll never stop. They'll turn everything into a dead, ignorant desert—like they did with my poor world. I thought about it—my family and I would never have suffered as we did—had people born before me acted before it was too late. I hate to say it, but you're right. We can't just stand by anymore."

Weaving through a web of conflicting motivations, eventually the Sunflower managed to sway enough people to work together. They weren't going to continue to accept things as they were. They were going to take the fight straight to the enemy.