Regressor Sect Master

Two months after the trip, Seven months after regression

The sun was fairly gentle this time of the year, summer ended, and autumn came with the gentle sunlight and occasionally cold winds. The critters around the Verdant Snow Sect were exceptionally noisy during this time, and the ruthless struggle to harvest enough supplies for the coming winter played out throughout the woods. 

Even in her corner of the Fox Mansion, Celestia found her meditation disturbed by the movements of bugs and insects around her. 

What she committed herself to doing was to round up her skills, and that process was significantly more challenging than she thought. Her face blushed slightly as the memory of Tundra’s exploration of her soul briefly flashed in her mind. She shook her head. Distractions.

She closed her eyes and focused on the channels of energy within her soul, again, thought made into spiritual reality. 

The wind blew and the leaves rustled. The branches of the trees around her private courtyard swayed. 

Distractions. 

Focus. She concentrated on the lines formed in her soul. The souls were layers on an onion, each new layer big and wider. It could fit more shapes, more structures. Refinement.

Cultivation techniques and methods were a shortcut. They were knowledge meant to assist the cultivator in creating structures and shapes in the soul. But they were shortcuts, because they told a cultivator what to do, but not why they did it. 

She felt the structures in the soul, and tried to fix it. But what did she want to fix?

Her spiritual senses brushed over her spiritual core. Tundra described it as a growing farm, and at the center is the farmer’s home. The cultivator was a farmer. He farmed spiritual energies, and attempted to grow structures of power. These structures need care, maintenance, and had to be watered, at least, while in the same realm.

The act of ‘watering’ and ‘caring’ for the farm within their soul is why a cultivator is often one of the great myths of why a cultivator is referred to as such. 

Spiritual refiner, or spiritual creator just didn’t have the agricultural symbolism cultivation had.

 

She focused on the largest structure, a large structure around the energy channels itself. It represented the Angel Whispering Form, her cultivation method. Cultivation methods functioned in many ways, and these were like pumps. They pulled energy into her soul, through the spiritual roots. Some worked automatically, this needed her direct attention. 

There should be ways of improving its performance. 

Tundra’s words rang in her mind. “This appears suboptimal. The structure doesn’t pull as much energy as it should.”

She looked at it, and couldn’t see why. She meditated and spent hours trying to study the structure, and didn’t understand what she was feeling or looking at. She briefly wondered whether this was the difference between those who are geniuses, and those who are mere mortals. 

She felt the structure, and tried to tinker with it. It wasn’t hard. It was moveable, malleable. It’s size and shape at her whims. Her husband said this malleability ends once she ascends to the next realm. 

She wasn’t making progress.

But she tried. She moved on to another different structure, and tried her luck again. 

It was hard.

There were days she worked on something only to find that it did nothing. It was supposed to be intuitive, but Celestia was beginning to wonder whether it’s only intuitive to Tundra.

She took a pill. 

The pill was made from the cores of their harvest. It injected a large dose of earth energy into her body, and immediately she felt it well up in her spiritual roots and meridians. 

Focus. No distractions.

She pulled the energy into her soul and it did so easily. Tundra claimed that she should observe how her energy flowed as it traveled from the Spiritual Roots to the core. 

Whether there were disruptions.

Whether the flow was blocked. Or places where the rate of flow was slower. Or places where that energy seemed to pool.

A cultivator experimented.

He made it sound so logical. So easy.

She stared and felt her energy movements, and wondered whether the two of them were really talking about different animals altogether.

 

***

Tundra was busy during those two months. The pills were made and distributed to the Core Disciples, Inner Disciples, and his wives. He continued to observe his children, who surprisingly, didn’t take the harsh words too badly. It was almost like they expected some kind of scolding or talking down, and that made Tundra feel a little bad. The intention was to teach, but how it came out, how it played out in reality, was another. Tundra wondered whether his children despised his outburst of anger, but subsequent briefings were brief. 

But it was not all bad. He continued to find himself fairly amused by the two ladies, because they pivoted so easily and decided to target Yavin Redaxe, of all people. It was also rather amusing to find his most experienced Core Disciple being a little flustered when two decently attractive women threw themselves at him. 

But Yavin was an intelligent man, and was quick to learn their intentions. The two ladies tried, and though it was clear he was a man after all, vulnerable to the seductions of beauties, his mind was clear enough to guard him from serious mistakes. 

The brother, and heir to the Blackshore family struggled to make sense of it, but he wasn’t the type to spy on his own two sisters, so for these two months, he attempted to approach Tundra’s daughters instead. Anna was one of them. Anna, naturally aware of his intentions, deftly dodged his attempts. 

The boy was pretty much a typical young master trying to covet another family’s daughter, and on that front, Tundra found him pretty disappointing. 

But if Yavin did find himself enjoying the company of the two ladies, he would approve of it. They  appear to be shrewd, and though they had ulterior motives, motives could be changed. There was likely enough dissatisfaction between the daughters that could be transformed into a cause for Yavin to rise into the new head of the Blackshore family. 

So, he didn’t see a need to stop it. But Yavin clearly thought otherwise, that he brought it up during one of the Core Disciple’s lecture sessions

“Master, what should I do with them?” Yavin clearly was not particularly fond of them. Julia, his fellow Core Disciple, was absolutely delighted to see their fellow senior brother under such a predicament.

“Brother, you should just relax and enjoy their company. You spend too much time on serious matters that this should be a way for you to loosen up!” Julia sniggered. Julia was fairly beautiful herself, but she wasn’t jealous. The Core Disciples have a camaraderie among them that Tundra described as ‘brotherly’. 

Yavin frowned. “Master, your advice?”

Tundra chuckled, and remembered the same advice his own Sect Master gave to him. “My own Sect Master arranged for me to marry my first wife when I was just a disciple. He claimed it would make me a fuller, more rounded cultivator.”

It was not the response Yavin expected.

Julia and the rest of the Core disciples chuckled. 

Tundra smiled. “With my experience now, I believe he meant for me to learn the meaning of attachment, of relationships, and to appreciate the people around me.”

Julia was more than happy to egg her fellow senior brother on. “See, even our master agrees that you should get a life!”

Yavin coughed, and looked at Tundra. “Could you elaborate more, Master?”

“Why do we cultivate, Yavin? To attain immortality. To gain power. Those are the two main reasons. Immortality and power’s appeal is obvious, so that we never age, so that we can stay in the world longer. But why? Because we have things we want to do in this world. So that we can live on and protect those we care about. So that we can take what we want. But dissect that further, and you will realize the things we want, the things we want to protect, the things we desire, many of them are for our friends, our family, for the people we care about.”

Everyone stared at him. 

“Mortals work hard to provide for their family, to give their children the best in life. Young men work hard to afford beautiful things for their loved ones. Old ones want to live on, because they want to be there to protect their children, and watch them grow.”

“Not all are like that.” Julia elaborated, but Tundra felt that answer came from within her.

“True. But I would say 2 out of 3 are like that. The reason they strive is for those around them.” 

Tundra paused briefly. The room of Core Disciples all listened. 

“So ask yourself, Yavin, do you feel you require more connections in life? Do you feel you have a purpose to ascend further?”

The Core Disciple’s eyes met his, and Tundra knew Yavin was made of sterner stuff. He had a purpose.

“I do.”

“Then you may ignore them, if it distracts you. But if you find their presence encourages you to pursue your goals with greater drive, then it may be a good idea to accept their affections. The choice is yours.”

Yavin Redaxe looked back at Tundra. “Master, was that why you agreed to marry your first wife?”

Tundra laughed. “Oh, I am a much simpler person. I trusted my master’s wisdom, and so agreed to it.”

Yavin then twisted the question. “Master, if I may, what would you do in my place?”

“I’d give them a chance and go out with them. Learn more about them, learn about their whims and interests, whether they are the type of person I would like to spend time with. Some cultivators seek out companions to walk the path of cultivation together.” 

Julia then suddenly got curious. “Master, are you suggesting they go on a courtship session?”

“Oh no. Not to that extent. Just merely spend time and sense whether there is good compatibility and chemistry. If there is fate, there is fate.” 

Yavin actually mulled the question seriously. 

***

“Grandfather.” Jihan Silverhound bowed as politely as an eight year old could muster the self control to do. His mother was Erin Mistburn Fox, Tundra and Elly’s daughter. They were in Tundra’s private hall.

Tundra was pleased to see the young boy, and tapped the ornate wood and marble chair next to him. “Sit, Jihan.”

He did, even if the chair felt too big for him. 

“How are your studies?” Tundra asked. Most cultivators didn’t start cultivating until they were about nine or ten. Their spiritual roots are still going through the process of maturing. 

“They are fine, grandfather.” He looked disinterested, but Tundra knew young children were like that. His mother must have prepared him, to the best she could.

“Good. Everyone needs to learn the mortal arts, the basics of numerics and language are important, even Cultivation Masters use them.”

“Are they?” Jihan asked.

“Yes. Even kings must know whether trade deals are worth it, how much supplies to bring for an expedition. The need to count and read remains a necessity even at higher levels. No, it becomes even more important, because what people cannot overcome with strength, they try to overcome with their wits.”

“Father tells me stories about cultivators that just hit people they don’t like.” Jihan said. “Or people that lie to them.”

Tundra chuckled at how true that was. “There are some like that. But it is not smart. We don’t want to get into situations where we have to threaten people with our fists.”

Tundra felt those words sting. He threatened a lot of people with fists. One of his elders back in the day would have laughed at him. Silly, hypocritical old man.  He could even imagine his face. 

Jihan stared at him. Tundra realized that he probably had an expression he should not have shown a boy that was that age. “Do you want to be a cultivator, Jihan?”

“Father says I must. It is in our family’s rule.” Jihan said, speaking with the lack of shyness commonly seen in children. Tundra recalled he never saw the really young children, back in the day. Their mothers would hide them from him. 

Too young, they said, and they feared they would offend him. He didn’t think too much of it back then. Tundra remembered it was a common thing, most young children were educated by their mothers, and the first time they spoke to the patriarch, they were at least in their mid teens. 

So, when he insisted on talking to the young children, that made their mother pale. But she didn’t dare resist. Elly also didn’t think it was that bad an idea, so she didn’t stop him. 

“Do you think you’d be a good one?” 

Jihan nodded. “I will.”

“Good.” Tundra said and looked at the young boy. His spiritual roots had not matured, but he briefly thought about how many powerful families ‘created’ powerful successors. 

Back in his first life, he undertook various surgeries with his disciples, but his disciples were all in their late teens or twenties when they agreed to subject themselves to his experiments.

Spiritual marrow transplant, enlightenment bone insertion, meridian modification, or mythical beast blood replacement, or even spiritual realm injection were surgeries he did to elevate his disciple’s potential, and turn them into great cultivators. It was fairly successful, though the rate of death was a little high in the earlier years. A cultivator relied on his senses, and if those senses could be enhanced, they would find the path a lot easier. 

Jihan sat quietly. Tundra could tell he was struggling, because he clearly wanted to move about. Children couldn’t sit still. 

It was already admirable that the boy sat there with him for half an hour. 

“You can go, Jihan.” 

Tundra watched the boy go, and internally made a measure of the boy. He seemed decent, and from what he sensed, his spiritual roots should be average. He could work with that, and decided it was fit to spend time with him.

“Do I have time, Surin?” Tundra asked one of his aides, Surin. Surin was pretty much his administrator, secretary and timekeeper, she was just a 1st realm cultivator, and spent most of her time arranging his time, and reminding him of his meetings and tasks. She followed him everywhere, and reminded him that time was up.