207. Blossoming Friendships (II)

After the sparring, Alistair found himself entirely without Stamina. Sweat soaked Mammothskin Raiment so deeply that he decided to wash it in the rich Mana-filled waters, going shirtless for a little while.

The practice brought [Monk Motionlessness] to Tier 6.

Skill Upgraded: [Monk Motionlessness] (Tier 6 Journeyman Skill): Embrace the tranquility of a monk's stillness, attuning your senses to anticipate and counter threats with serene precision. Scales with Agility and Wisdom. Active (Serene Bloodlust): Unrefined bloodlust fills your body but your mind is unaffected. 15% bonus to all Attributes while active, drains 10% of max nue per second. Upgradeable (0/1,000).

What an interesting upgrade, Alistair thought. It was yet another Skill of his that used nue, now alongside [Draconic Roar], [Lightning of Justice], and [Mindshift].

The percent-based costs meant that increasing his nue pool wouldn’t increase the amount he could use, but he imagined that it would still increase the power of the Skills.

Alistair closed up his notifications and went to work on another aspect of cultivation—friends.

Red’s natural tendency was for him to be anti-social, so Alistair brought him out to meet their hallmates. There were thirty-eight others in their zone of the ring, but most of them were out and about.

Still, they got to meet three guys who roomed next to them. They were friends from Mod’s Finger Duchy of the Disputed Shard, and one of the guys’ roommate was from the Plain Expanse Duchy.

They were also all newly accepted disciples, since the Clear Water Sect kept them all together for now to avoid any unnecessary conflict.

Alistair asked out of curiosity if the guy from Plain Expanse was from the Gu Clan, the family of the singer that he met during Cosmic Blood and who was ranked eight above the new disciples, a position above Red Harmonia.

He was not, but they all knew of her anyway. She was renowned in that region of the Disputed Shard for her voice, which was said to be able to lull a seasoned warrior into the pointy end of his own spear.

They went over to the Armory. There was one thing they had to do now that they were official members of the Clear Water Sect, having bracelets with their rank and everything.

Get their robes fitted.

Alistair got close to seeing Red’s brow furrow in anger, but he let go of his earthly attachments. His white jacket and pants were his signature look, it seemed, but in order to blend in, he was willing to have them cosmetically altered.

The robes of the Clear Water Sect could be purchased as an item themselves, but most people had their current clothes or armor cosmetically altered into the proper robes of the sect.

Thankfully, it only cost 10 merit points. Alistair and Red came out of the Armory looking like official outer disciples, wearing azure robes with a silver trim.

“It’s time for me to say my goodbyes,” Red said ominously. “You interrupted my sleep, which is fine, but now I’ll be going back to finish my slumber.”

With Red leaving the party, Alistair considered his options. He could see his sister. He could try to find Gu Fuhao. He could go to the Training Grounds and rack up some points.

Instead, he chose the dining hall. There was one fairly close to the outer disciples’ quarters, and he was eager to try cultivator food after his experience’s on Praetei’s ship.

The dining hall was a marvel of architectural ingenuity, strangely so for just a dining hall for outer disciples.

Crystal-clear water flowed in channels along the walls, occasionally rising into elegant fountains that caught the light streaming through windows of falling water. Supplicants filled up cups directly from the water on the walls.

The ceiling soared high above, painted with scenes of legendary Clear Water Sect cultivators throughout history. Alistair recognized none except for the Perfect and Sheeloth defeating a city-sized kraken.

Unlike the more austere training grounds, the dining hall embraced a warmer aesthetic, with polished wooden tables arranged in zigzag lines around a central pool where enormous koi the size of small boats lazily swam.

Alistair’s stomach rumbled as the aromas hit him—rich broths, seasoned meats, and herbs he couldn’t even name. Various stations were set up around the periphery, each with different offerings.

He approached one of the stations, where a stern-faced attendant stood before a spread of dishes that seemed to shimmer with internal light. Even this attendant was higher leveled than him, boasting an aura that said Middle Adept realm.

We’re obviously both cloaking to some degree to avoid being rude, Alistair thought. Even though he’s Middle, and I’m Early, I have a stronger aura, but his is more concentrated. That must be because he liquefied his soulcore Mana to reach that stage.

“I'd like that, please,” Alistair said, gesturing toward a particularly appetizing dish that resembled a stew with luminescent blue ingredients.

The attendant took his bracelet and connected it with Alistair’s, raising an eyebrow. “That's 50 merit points for Azure Core Consolidation Soup. I see you’re new here. Only Foundation realm food is free,” he pointed to a far less impressive spread at the end of the counter, “but it won't do much for your soulcore or meridians.”

Alistair’s enthusiasm deflated slightly. He’d only just arrived and had barely accumulated any merit points yet. Spending that much on a single meal—it probably was worth it if they served it, but he wasn’t ready to do it just yet.

“I'll take the Foundation meal for now,” he said, trying not to sound disappointed.

The attendant nodded and handed him a wooden tray with simple fare—rice, steamed vegetables, and what appeared to be fish, though it was oddly textured. It wasn’t unappetizing, better than any Earth dish, but once he’d had Adept realm quality food, there was no turning back.

“When you’ve earned more merit, come back,” the attendant said with a warm smile. “The Profound meals are even better if you get there one day.”

Tray in hand, Alistair scanned the hall for a place to sit. That’s when he spotted two familiar faces—Gu Fuhao and, surprisingly, Pristine Evolutionary sitting together at a table near one of the water channels. They appeared to have just met, their conversation having the careful, measured pace of new acquaintances feeling each other out.

Alistair hesitated for a moment. Should he join them? Before he could decide on his own, Fuhao spotted him and gave a small wave of recognition. Well, that settles it.

As he approached, he noticed several heads turning to observe the interaction. It wasn’t every day that three of the highest-ranked new disciples converged, and the Clear Water Sect was, like most cultivation sects, a hotbed of gossip and speculation.

“Mind if I join you?” Alistair asked.

“Please,” Fuhao gestured to an empty seat. She looked exactly as he remembered from Cosmic Blood—immaculate in her azure sect robes, her black hair shining like polished obsidian, golden eyes alert and assessing. A classic jade beauty. “We were just discussing the differences between Mai Atal and Trexus cultivation styles.”

“From the acceptance test,” Pristine said, her eyes narrowing. “You told me that I should remember your name.”

“I did,” Alistair said. “Pristine, I see you’ve become acquainted with Gu Fuhao of the Plain Expanse Duchy. We crossed paths before as well, though more than half a year ago now.”

“She’s been delightful conversation,” Pristine said. “Alistair.”

Fuhao’s golden eyes met Alistair, and then her new acquaintance. “I feel that something strange has happened between you two, but now I’m afraid to ask.”

“It’s nothing,” Alistair said.

“I don’t have any issue with him if he has none with me,” Pristine said at the same time.

“Well, I legitimately don’t have an issue with you, so then we should have no enmity between us.”

“Then, it’s settled. Since we have similar ideals, let’s be friends.”

“I need friends, so I’m fine with that.”

Poor Fuhao just had a bewildered look to her. “Anyway, what were you saying about Trexian cultivation? I know that the Disputed Shard and Mai Atal are neighbors to Trexus, but we’re so culturally distinct.”

Pristine nodded, her braided hair catching the light. “I said that Trexus puts great emphasis on body cultivation. Elixirs, baths, acupuncture.” Her amber-indigo eyes drifted to his tray. “I see you opted for the free meal.”

“Merit points are scarce when you’re fresh off the boat,” Alistair said with a shrug, taking a seat. “I wasn’t sure what to spend my merit points.”

“Being judicious rarely goes wrong,” Fuhao said. “My clan advised me to budget carefully in the first month. The weaker you are, the less you merit points you can earn.” She had what appeared to be the stuffed chicken meal before her—not the most expensive, but certainly not the free option either.

Pristine’s meal was similarly modest. “My family couldn’t afford to send me with much,” she admitted without embarrassment. “It’s a good thing that drachma are useless here and that it’s all based on merit points.”

The whispers around them grew more audible as Alistair sat. He caught snippets with [Reality Sense]. Interestingly, there were those who conversations were completely mute and whose mouths were blurred. A privacy charm?

Now that he was paying attention, Fuhao was singing ever so softly even as she talked, forming an almost invisible sound barrier around them.

“That’s three of the top ten in the new class entries sitting together...”

“...I’ve never heard of the Trexian before. A non-ethnic Trexian noble in the top 10...”

“...does the man look familiar to you?...”

“…greedy bastard for hogging two beauties. Wait, have I seen that guy before?…”

“…when you were bedding the servant girl of the Selvitaran noblewoman, was it? She watched that StreamCast program. That’s a Prime Initiate right there…”

“...and the girl from the Gu Clan can paralyze people with just her voice...”

“…her pedigree is far too high for them, despite their rank. Without poor foundations, they’ll slide down soon…”

The group of disciples at a nearby table that had obliquely mentioned Felons vs. Fellows walked up after a minute of deliberation.

“You,” the tall ginger man of the group said, nodding at Alistair with an air of authority only found among nobles. “You’re from that program, right? Felons vs. Fellows? You did pretty well, didn’t you?”

Alistair nodded, taking a bite of his umami-flavored fish. “That was me.”

The disciple pushed his buddy, a portly bald man. “That was your third cousin he beat, wasn’t it? Atavius Meloi?”

“My maternal third cousin, once-removed,” the baldy said. “Barely any relation. I’m Severus Boirel from Eyedancer Duchy of Dragon’s Landing. This is Thalen Rulhoi of the same origin. We’re just now starting our tenth year at the Clear Water Sect.”

“It is good to meet you, senior brothers,” Alistair said.

“No need for honorifics,” Thalen said. “Dragon’s Landing is far more progressive than the Mai Atalans. No offense meant, Lady Gu.”

Fuhao smiled. “None taken.”

“Severus, do you have the footage now?” Thalen asked. “Oh yes, thank you. You were only a Foundation back then, but I liked your style. We should spar sometime. I don’t use my fists, but I am handy with a sword.”

“I would love to,” Alistair said. “Perhaps later today or tomorrow?”

“Perfect, let’s exchange Soulnet information.”

More disciples were now openly staring, the brazenness of Thalen on full display. Others whispered. Was he trying to humiliate the new recruit, or get on his good side? Had Alistair displayed his Skills somewhere?

As it stood, he didn’t think that the footage from Felons vs. Fellows mattered at all. His cultivation had changed so much, he barely had any of the same Skills left. He could literally defeat millions of the level 30 version of Alistair.

Before the Fuhao or Pristine could join the conversation, they were interrupted by the sound of a tray slamming down on a nearby table.

A green-haired young man with angular, narrow features and narrow yellow eyes with reptilian pupils sauntered over. He let his aura flow a little more than was appropriate for a dining hall setting.

Early Adept, though, Alistair felt like his aura was around twice as strong as his own. Likely, he was close to Middle Adept.

“So these are the top 10 of the new class that everyone’s been whispering about?” he said loudly, not bothering to hide his disdain. “A Trexian dog from an unknown family and a backwater cultivator from a newly initiated planet? Lady Gu, I hope that you can find more appropriate company. Perhaps I can be of assistance?”

The dining hall fell silent. Alistair recognized the tactics immediately—establishing dominance, forcing a confrontation. Classic behavior for one of those arrogant young masters. Well, we can’t be sure of how young this guy is.

“Xiao Zhenyu,” Fuhao murmured under her breath, her sing-song intonation allowing her words to carry only to Alistair’s ear and no others. “The scion of a branch of the ducal Xiao Clan of Torpor Duchy, the most populous of Mai Atal. He arrived at the sect fifth ranked in his class five years ago, but he’s fallen behind. He’s ranked #7,520 amongst outer disciples.”

“I find myself enjoying this company, Zhenyu,” Fuhao said, not losing an ounce of her composure.

“I heard you two scored exceptionally well in the entrance trials,” he said, looking down at Alistair and Pristine. “But trials are controlled environments. They don’t reflect true cultivation talent.”

Dev'rox goaded him with all his impish might. Alistair gave in. There was no way for him to avoid conflict in the sect, and sparring with someone almost two thousand ranks ahead of him was a good way to get ahead.

“I agree,” Alistair said. “The speed at which one rises through the ranks is much more indicative of cultivation talent than one’s initial rank.”

Xiao Zhenyu grew eerily quiet, his pale face masking any anger. [Reality Sense] and Lesser Samatha indicated a great rage building behind the noble mask. As to be expected. That rage exploded after five seconds of silence.

“You dare!” the snake-like man shouted, drawing the attention of every single cultivator in the dining hall, if they weren’t already watching. “You are courting death, you peasant wretch. You will come with me to the Training Grounds immediately. I show you what it means to be born superior.”

“Zhenyu.” Fuhao waved her hand. “We are all experiencing our first day at the sect. The rules state that disciples may not challenge newcomers for one week, though we may challenge others.”

“Woman, do you believe me stupid?” Zhenyu spat. “I know the rules. I was pre-emptively issuing my day’s guaranteed challenge. We shall meet in a week’s time, Alistair.”

He swiped his bracelet over Alistair’s, letting the technology take care of setting up their encounter. “I shall rescind this challenge if you kowtow and admit to me your inferiority, and you apologize for the offense you have given me and all those of noble blood.”

“I don’t think so?” Alistair said, scratching his tongue. Dev'rox howled with laughter on the inside.

Xiao Zhenyu stormed off, his footsteps echoing throughout the dining hall.

The first disciple who had approached them winced. “My apologies for inadvertently drawing his attention. Xiao Zhenyu’s temper is… notorious among the newest recruits. For the last couple of years, he’s been picking fights among those without high pedigrees. Not that I discriminate against non-nobles.”

“No need for apologies,” Alistair said to Thalen. “Better to know the landscape early.”

After the two disciples from the Eyedancer Duchy left, Pristine let out a small laugh, but Fuhao looked concerned. “Was it truly wise to antagonize Xiao Zhenyu so?”

“Perhaps, perhaps not,” Alistair said. “You told me that he fell behind the peers within his class, so I surmised he probably has little friends or allies. A branch of the Xiao Clan is likely a regional power, but they have no sway here. Plus,” he shook his head, “the Clear Water Sect is worse for that man being here. Looking down on others because of their station of their birth.”

“He’s correct, in a sense,” Pristine interjected. Alistair turned his neck, surprised by her comment. “We the nobility have practiced cultivation eugenics for millions of years. We have ridiculous inborn advantages, more storied bloodlines and ancestries, better Dao Histories, Internal Guardians, higher quality build manuals, more innate Badge slots, inherited and purchased Skills, items, and Talents, and better Quests.”

Pristine cited this as if reading from a textbook. Alistair was impressed yet also taken aback. “So you agree with him?”

“I did not say that,” she replied. “I saw you in the trial. You have many of those same advantages and a path forged in blood, unlike many of the pampered scions here. But you are the exception. It is not I that believe that nobles are better, it is the multiverse. When a Truthseeker speaks, the world listens. He or she does not require the permission of the riffraff. To a lesser extent, this is true of the nobility and the peasantry. Their voices simply matter less at a fundamental level.”

Alistair wanted to contest that, but she was correct. She was correct, but he did not care. The way the world is is not the way the world always will be.

“That is not to say that they don’t matter to me,” Pristine said. “I believe in the noblesse oblige of the strong to help the weak. That seems to be going out of favor in this universe.”

Gu Fuhao, sensing the sensitivity of the topic, brought the discussion elsewhere. “Now that Zhenyu brought it up, I am curious to know—what did you guys do in the trial?”

They traded stories. Fuhao had gotten herself attacked at the beginning as well. “Music cultivation isn’t always taken seriously by combat specialists,” she said, “but I find it has its advantages. Particularly when opponents underestimate its effectiveness.”

Pristine was the most active, leading to her a position one higher than Fuhao. She challenged those beating up on weaker opponents, also not killing them like Alistair. Despite Fuhao’s ladylike persona and impeccable manners, she was far less averse to ending life than Alistair or Pristine, it seemed.

Their conversation flowed naturally from there, touching on their respective backgrounds without delving too deeply into personal matters—a polite dance of information exchange. Alistair noted that Pristine never actually mentioned what her style of cultivation was.

Both women were intriguing in different ways: Fuhao with her refined sensibility and feminine grace hiding obvious ambition, and Pristine with her measured responses and which hid a compassionate heart.

By the time they finished their meals, Alistair had a strange sense that despite not knowing either of their true talents, both would be significant figures during his time at the sect—hopefully as allies.

An hour passed, and they continued talking far after finishing their meals. Pristine was the first to excuse herself. “I have to attend to my egg,” she said with little explanation. “Apologies. Let’s exchange information as well.”

She swapped Soulnet info with Fuhao and Alistair, leaving in a hurry.

“I’ll have to ask her about that,” Fuhao said. “We’re from the same zone.”

“I should get going, too,” Alistair said. “I need to explore the sect more. It’s too obvious I’m unfamiliar with how things work compared to you guys.”

“Abandoning a young lady in need.” Fuhao clicked her tongue twice. “Very well, Alistair Tan. I wish you luck in your spar against Zhenyu.”

“Hopefully, I won’t need it.”