Body Cultivation Hurts - Chapter 25

Even though Nathan was hoping to just jump right into it, he found himself running from station to station to make sure everything was starting as it should. That was after making sure those that needed yang and yin heavy pills got them. The looks he was receiving told him all he needed to know. They were afraid of him. Not simply in a respectful way either. Few people even met him in the eye.

When a woman squatting form disintegrated the moment she noticed him cheering for her, he got an idea. Spotted the squat rack next to her was just being loaded with weight. He did something that he never would’ve done in an old-world gym.

“Do you might if I jump in? There’s something I want to emphasize.”

“Sure,” the guy said, more than happy to step back. “How much are we loading?”

“Let’s start with 500kg. Er, 1,102 lbs.”

When the guy froze, and he heard a comment from the group watching about it being close to the world record, he frowned. “What’s the world record?”

“Like, 580kg.”

“So throw on 600 to just make it even. What is that? Make it 1,395lbs just so that we have an even fifteen plates on each side.”

Another couple of people stepped up and helped with the plates.

He didn’t say another word until he was under the bar. “You’re forgetting your cultivators.”

Straightening, he bounced the weight on his shoulders without a pad. “Your breathing is now more important than ever. With each breath, it’s not just air filling your lungs, but qi.”

He stepped forward to clear the rack, then as slow as a crawl he began lowering the weight. “You can only take in so much qi with each breath. No longer is your breathing be a secondary thing priority when you work out. To move is to breath, and breath is to move.”

To those watching, his lowering of the weight was painfully slow. He didn’t just control it. There was a grace to his movement. Passing the half squat position, he kept going. Even a full squat wasn’t enough. He didn’t stop until he was almost sitting on his ankles. His back wasn’t rounded. His heels were firm on the ground. It took incredible flexibility and supportive strength to squat so deep.

Only when the guys around him feared he was unable to push the weight and moved to spot him did he explode upward. It was a controlled ascent, or the bar would’ve flown upward.

“I’m a cultivator at the seventh stage of the body realm,” he jeered. “What does some old world record have to do with me?”

Lowering himself at a more reasonable pace, he made it all the way into a deep squat with perfect form before driving upward again.

Even though his body wasn’t the same as it had been before his first death, he was a body cultivator. One that had reached the divine realms. Body cultivators didn’t have as complex martial techniques as energy cultivators, or the necessity to spiritually imprint onto the world as powerful soul cultivators did. He had one tool at his exposal to study, train, and master. His body.

He didn’t stop at two, or even ten. They didn’t believe it. Not yet. They didn’t know what they were capable of. How could they be? It had been a single week since their entire world had been turned upside down. Time to spin their brains like a top.

Reaching thirty, he didn’t slow. His actions caused everyone in the area to stop what they were doing and they started to gather. Fine. If they didn’t believe, than he would make them. If he had to destroy their very concept of strength at every station, that’s exactly what he’d do.

His breathing and motion flowed together with no contradiction. When he reached fifty, his breathing was still supplying him sufficient strength. And so he pushed. It wasn’t just for them. This was why he was here.

Only when he reached eighty did he start to slow. That didn’t mean he was done. What if it took only one last step to save a friend’s life? What if he’d never have to identify the remains of his sister, or be the one to inform his mother because father was still in the middle of a hunt?

This was just the body realm. He’d been here before. The blood realm as well, and the nascent. He’d already surpassed heaven’s resistance at the earth, sky, and overlord realms to ascend into the first realm of the divine. The tribulation. This was just his body. What was it to resist his will?

As he squatted down on his ninety fourth squat, his body started to give. He took in an extra breath before surging up with all he had.

Taking a step forward, he almost collapsed. He had pushed too hard coming up and the bar bounced.

His spotters were there. There were two of them on either side and two guys behind him. They still didn’t believe which explained why there were so many. They’d scrambled to help when he almost fell.

He just called out, “Be ready.”

Taking a few additional qi rich breaths, he started again. To his annoyance, one of the spotters started the counting over at ninety. It was a common tactic to try to trick someone into going even further than they thought they could go. His annoyance dissolved at the thought. This guy had the right idea, but he was wrong about one thing. Nathan wasn’t done.

The crowd started counting. He used them to motivate himself, however, his goal and theirs wasn’t the same.

“91.”

“92.”

“93.”

His muscles burned. His joints ached. With struggled breathes, he pushed harder.

“97.” The crowd grew louder.

“98.” His vision started to become blurry.

“99.” There was suddenly a trepid hush.

“100.” People started to scream.

He’d reached 104. Seeing as everyone expected him to end it there, he smiled, spitting out a mouth full of bloody spittle.

Lowering himself again, he had a single thought. “Push.”

“!01,” a few people said, but at 102 the words just tumbled out and the counting stopped.

At 107, he had trouble inhaling his breath. There was too much blood running from his nose. Even still, he surged upward.

Speaking was no longer possible, but he grunted at his spotters. When one tried to take the weight, he barked at him, spraying him with blood.

108. 109. His last bit of effort tore through a sticking point halfway up in his push. Then he started to fall.

His spotters caught the bar with far more ease than they’d imagined.

He was on his hands and knees with his head dangling as he dripped bodily fluids. Someone poured water over the back of his head, which he appreciated. He needed several breaths to recover enough to speak. Without even raising his head, he empowered his words with qi.

“By the end of our first week here, each and every one of you will surpass what I just did. Man, woman, it doesn’t matter. In my first life, it took most of us months, if not years, to come to grips with the fact that everything we thought we knew was limited, if not wrong, and it will never be the same. You are not the same.”

He started to come to his feet. His lower body quaked, but it didn’t stop him. Once standing, he wiped his face, then headed toward one of many stands with pill dispensers. Holding out his hand, a recovery pill fell into his palm, and he tossed it back.

“And don’t forget to keep a water bottle with you. Swallowing pills without water sucks.”

***

“Father Wei, he said that I’ll die. That I’ll sacrifice myself so that they’ll have an opportunity to escape.”

“Dearest Isacara, would you allow me to view this memory through your eyes?” She heard his voice as if it came from deep inside of her. He wasn’t present, and nor was she using a transmission crystal. He spoke to her from a myriad of lightyears away. This was the perception of a Divine Monarch.

She bowed her head, saying, “Of course.”

“It should only take a moment.”

It was far form the first time Divine Monarch Wei had viewed her memories. She knew that feeling. Almost as soon as his presence had come it was gone.

“Interesting. I viewed his entire speech and… This boy believes what he says with complete confidence. You know how fleeting belief can be. Even if one relies on their own memories, complete confidence is like trying to hold melting ice in one’s hand. Such conviction from a soul in the body of a nineteen-year-old body cultivator. There is no mistake. The boy speaks the truth.”

“Then?”

“Are you surprised that you’d still hold enough selflessness to sacrifice yourself to defend this strange new world, Isacara? I’d expect no less. Rarely have we met in person, but you know I care for you like my own daughter. I’m sorry I can’t be there but—”

“I know, Father Wei. This is just one tower in a thousand worlds.”

“One that I’ve obviously overlooked if the demons reach it so soon and you must defend it to the death. I’ll look into it and try to buy us more time.”

“I’ll also keep a closer watch. Now that I know, there’re steps I can take.”

“Good. I can’t make any promises, for this can only mean that there’s something that I’ve been unable to see. What I will provide you is this. A world core powered defensive array. This Earth is rich, and the more qi is cultivated in the world itself, the stronger it will grow. It might buy you some time, at least, if escape is the only option.”

“Should I—Should I inform this Nathanial Kane?”

“No, dear one. I can’t guarantee him more time to grow, and even if I could, you have seen his training.”

“He’s barbaric.”

“And methodical. Your world didn’t have much talent for body cultivation, and neither has the worlds you have judged. You haven’t witnessed the path of a true body cultivator.”

“His world isn’t much better. I’ve checked.”

“And neither did anyone in all those worlds inherit the legacy of an unknown ancient divine monarch.”

“Legacy? You mean, there’s more to it them him just being brought back in time?”

“More? To receive this legacy, there was no trial one must pass in order to earn it. It wasn’t even connected to just this single tower, but had a spiritual presence of its own connected to the full scope of my work. How many thousands of towers, tens of thousands of worlds, has this lingering consciousness searched. Only to disguise itself as a simple martial spell to a random cultivator destined to die. Either there’s something very interesting about this boy, or…”

“Or?”

“Or the consciousness was running out of spiritual power and had to choose someone outside of its original perimeters. Perhaps that is even more interesting.”

She waited for him to continue his explanation, but when it seemed his attention had wandered, she asked. “Father?”

“Mmm. Dearest Isacara, you’ve never witnessed a true body cultivator. The closest thing our universe has are a few energy cultivators at the divine monarch realm with an expensive hobby of cultivating their bodies as a supplement to their already overwhelming power. But a body cultivator that reaches the peak as their foundation? Only a demon lord or the king of true dragons could compare. As a divine monarch energy cultivator, I can wield the stars, but a peak realm body cultivator can rupture them to start dust with their bare hands.

“What did you call him? Barbaric? That’s an accurate description,” Father Wei’s voice took on a rare note of excitement. “Barbaric is exactly what they are. As mountains torn from their foundation and thrown to the earth, they are mayhem—calamity, but also as meticulous as the finest blade. They are destruction’s will personified. We ought to cry out to the heavens that such a brute would be sent to us, dear one. For all our schemes and masterful traps, with a true body cultivator on our side we might push the demon horde back for the first time in one hundred thousand years.”

“Father…” Her voice came out at a whisper. “Should I provide him with extra resources?”

“Heaven’s no. As long as we don’t resist him directly, if he is truly destined to become such a monster then nothing will stop him. The last thing we want to do is dampen his fire. Body cultivators require one thing to grow. Resistance. It is true that too much and a young blade might break, but without enough he’ll become as malleable as non-heat-treated steel. Let me…

“It’s just as I hoped. You’ve seen his training before entering the time dilation chamber, but you’ve already missed much since our conversation has started. Go back and watch it, then keep a very close eye on him. Don’t neglect your duties, but he’s already gathering some of this world’s most promising talents to himself. That should make observing him that much easier.”

“I understand, Father Wei. Thank you.”

“Thank you, Isacara. For what it’s worth, I mourn the very thought of losing you. Be strong.”