Body Cultivation Hurts - Chapter 13

It was technically a someone. There were few enough orcs around with silver skin and a short fro for the average person to know if they were a person or a monster. The guy came crashing through the brush as he exited the treeline only to skid to a stop with a double-bladed battleaxe pulled back and a tiny buckler out in front of him.

It really shouldn’t have been as comical as it was, except for the fact that Nathan knew this was their first week in the tower. Few people had any idea what they were doing, so it was unlikely the guy would’ve chosen the dinnerplate-size shield based on expertise. It meant the tiny thing held by a hulkish orc as absurd as it looked.

His chuckle was drowned out by the arrival of the rest of the man’s party. A silver-skinned elf woman with the sky-blue robes of a mage peaked over his shoulder. Their skin was matching which meant it was a custom job. A second girl with a natural ebony skin tone charged in from their flank with much more courage than the tentative elf. She was holding a quarterstaff with a large knot on one end. Nathan couldn’t tell if she was a cultivator or warrior class. It was also possible that she was just a mage that had started going melee just because she could.

He watched as the giant dead salamander startled the human-looking girl. She threw out one hand to summon a stone bullet. It shot toward the dead monster with the same speed as a well thrown rock. It hit the thing in the side and bounced off.

“It’s already dead,” Nathan called out, kicking off the wall. As he did, he waved his pipe.

When the woman saw him, he half expected her to cast her spell at him, but the last member of their party chose that moment to arrive. A heavily bearded man with tawny skin that only stood four and a half foot tall trudged up from behind them. Despite his small stature, he was as wide as the orc and heavily muscled. When it came to the fantasy inspired dwarf class, the Monarch hadn’t held back. They were basically the bulldogs of the humanoid races. Widely built with thick muscle definition. When it came to feats of strength, they often competed with orcs and the most physique focused paths—even giving giants a run for their money.

If he remembered right, the main benefit to the race, besides cosmetics, was the lower center of gravity. He would’ve received a build for strength, toughness, and enhanced vision.

When the dwarf saw him, he nearly scratched his head with the spike of his club before thinking better of it, and then replied. “Smoke break?”

“Mild hallucinogenic herbs to strengthen mental resistance,” Nathan said with a shrug.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle with the guy when the orc asked, “Are you serious?”

“Yup.” He took a little puff, then walked toward them. Considering he was only armed with a sheathed knife and a pipe, they didn’t look bothered. That was until he reached the giant salamander and hopped over its body.

“Did you?” The elf woman said, stepping out from behind the orc.

“Yup.” Stopping, he gave the creature a sideways look. “Some lizards have an area near the back of their head that isn’t well protected by the skull.” He gestured to where he stabbed it. “I doubt all of them do, but it worked on this one, and I know alligators have it.” With that said, he unsheathed his knife and let it dangle between two fingers so they could see what he was working with before putting it away.

The orc guy moved to take a look, before stopping short. He’d lowered his buckler and battleaxe, but the elf girl pulled at his forearm.

“It’s fine if you want to take a look. You can have the corpse if you want to try to salvage or sell it. No idea if it’s worth anything. I don’t need it.”

“I’m Terrel,” the dwarf said, stepping forward and reaching out his hand.

“Nathan,” he replied, holding up his knuckles. “I probably need to wash up.”

They bumped knuckles then Nathan stepped to the side and both guys stepped forward to examine the creature. “Keyshawn,” the orc guy said as he passed.

He then smiled at the women, only giving them a glance so they wouldn’t feel uncomfortable. At the same time, he saw everything he needed to see. They were just nervous. It was commendable that they were even willing to be out here so soon after initiation. Not everyone could handle the violence, and others struggled with the gore.

As the guys were examining the salamander, the human girl approached me, smelling the air. “You have psychedelics?”

“Very mild. It’s said to affect dreams mainly. Other than that, it just dulls the senses from what I can tell. There’s no high to speak of.” I then explained how it was doing double duty by burning my lungs.

“You’re harming yourself on purpose?” The elf lady asked.

“More or less. It’s called tempering.” I then explained the difference between types of energy gathering.

“So cultivation is really like its in the manga?” Keyshawn said, stepping away from the corpse and joining us.

“The progression system is different—varies a lot—but yeah.”

When the dwarf slid up to stand next to the orc, Nathan asked, “You’re—”

“Black?” Terrel interrupted. He smirked at his friend.

“From the states?”

“We are,” Keyshawn replied, pushing his short friend. “He’s just been messing with us. Saying we’re no longer black.”

Nathan raised his brow in question.

“You’re not,” Terrel insisted. “You’re silver.”

“But our tone.”

“Traitor,” he snickered.

“You look beautiful, Shandra,” the mage woman said to her silvery elf friend.

“You’re a woman. You’re going to tell her she looks good even if she weighs three hundred pounds.”

“It does look good,” Nathan admitted.

“Says the white guy,” Terrel jeered before being pushed again.

The guy was obviously just clowning with his friend. He added. “It costs points, but you can change your skin color to whatever you want through the system.”

“What? That sucks. I hoped you’d be stuck that way forever.” He rammed his large orc friend in the hip with his shoulder, knocking him back.

“Whatever. We’re going to have our own progeny with the strength of the orc and grace of the elf,” Keyshawn said, making two fists causing his arms to bulge.

The silver elf attached herself to one such arm that was almost as thick as her torso. Her expression was serious.

Nathan found the whole situation amusing. The mixing of races was not something new. Well, not to him. At their core, everyone in the tower was still human, so having children was possible. Little Orf babies usually took more after the father or mother, however, and rarely did they have a heavy mix of both characteristics. The real drawback to their plan wasn’t the ability to produce offspring, but time…

Ten years. After that, everything would be wiped out.

He took a deep puff on his pipe. Some parts of his cultivation couldn’t be rushed. The heat and fire qi from the hot springs would build up. His talent alone would make it take less time.

“I’m going to excuse myself and return to my cultivation. Feel free to make use of the lizard-salamander thing. I was going to just wait until monsters tried to scavenge it for food then beat them down for the points, but it’s been a few hours with no takers.”

They bid him farewell, and he headed back to his spot against the rockface. The sun was now high enough that its rays joined their heat to the radiated steam from the hot springs, making it a humid scorcher where he stood. Taking long pulls on his pipe, he just added to the heat. He sat a water bottle in the sun to let it warm as well. His current existence was a miserable one. He just kept on practicing his breathing technique in hope that it would soon be over.