Mage's Cultivation Journey 8

“… So, two months,” I said once the kid gave me a detailed breakdown of everything that happened, including the light show and other commotion my arrival had brought. “Longer than I expected.” 

He nodded. “I’m sorry, my lord, but this lowly one lacks the ability to summon a doctor, and carrying you there —” 

I cut him off. “No, it wasn’t a criticism. Also, you don’t have to call me a lord. You have already done far more than most people would ever extend to an unfortunate soul like me. I owe you,” I replied. He didn’t respond, just nodded hesitantly. I said nothing, giving him an opportunity to ask questions. 

He chose to walk silently while we continued to walk, skirting around the foothills of the mountain, putting some distance between us and the village in case of reinforcements. His hesitance in asking questions was welcome, as the more detail I gave about my false origins, the easier it would be for all to collapse. 

Not to mention, I wasn’t looking forward to talking. The walk was arduous enough. I had not exercised much, at least not since I had gained my first admission to the academy; and lying in a bed for two months with no exercise didn’t help. The brisk pace was already a challenge without trying to talk. 

I could have compensated with mana, but I had none, so I had no option but to focus on my physical journey. 

“Tell me about your martial arts training,” I said. 

“What part do you want to learn, my lord?” he asked, ignoring my earlier request. 

I decided to let it go for the moment. “Everything you can think of,” I said. “How did you join your school? How were you assessed? What was your diet like? What were your days like? The more I learn, the easier it would be for me to understand the situation.”

“All of them?” he asked, surprised. 

“We have a long way to walk, and it’s better than looking around idly,” I said. Unlike me, the kid could easily talk while maintaining the pace; even though he was the one carrying all of the equipment. 

The difference was stark. 

“I joined when I paid three silver taels for assessment. Once they determined I had a strong root bone, I earned the right of admission. I paid thirty silver taels as the registration fee, which allowed me to join the Furious Wind School as an external student.” 

I nodded. From the gossip I heard, I knew that a tael of silver was a significant amount of money, enough to keep a family fed for a month in the village with ease. I doubted the kid came to that money easily. He likely sold everything he owned for the opportunity. 

I didn’t need to think for long to realize why it felt familiar. 

“From there, every student learned the first stance of the Wind Fist, which allowed us to slowly develop our internal energy…” he continued, stopping for a moment to display the move, but unlike the punch he threw back in the fight, the power he called internal energy didn’t react. 

With how he ended up, I didn’t blame him. 

“Show me, without using your internal energy,” I said. 

“We’re not supposed to teach anyone else…” he started, then paused. “But then, with the school destroyed, does it really matter?” he added with a whisper. 

“If it makes you any better, I’m trying to understand them to cure you, rather than replicating the moves,” I said. It was only a half-truth at best. If, at any point, I became convinced that I could replicate it without any significant side effects, I would go ahead. 

I might not be evil, but I wasn’t exactly a paragon either. When it came to acquiring knowledge, I wasn’t as militant as some of the other mages I lived together, but considering the lengths they went, that meant very little in the grand scheme of things. 

“That’s good to hear. I don’t think how it will go without the assistance of Wind Essence Pills,” he said. “It’s dangerous. Many students hurt themselves trying to learn, and that was under the guidance of the instructors.” 

“Good,” I said. “Then, tell me in your own words. What’s internal energy?” 

He paused. “I…” he stammered, looking lost. “Internal energy is… what allows us to use martial arts. A part of our essence?” 

“Of course it is,” I said, hiding my disappointment. While I was disappointed, I was not surprised. From the snippets I managed to collect, it was clear that his education was fully focused on practical, with no theoretical basis. 

The next question I asked was much simpler. 

From there, he delivered a long explanation, which took hours, where he went into detail about every move he had learned, going into great detail about every little detail from the placement of every body part, every motion, even the mental mantras that accompanied the moves.

Some information, he provided willingly, the way he talked implying that those were relatively common knowledge. Ranks of martial artists was one of them. It starts with Initiate, followed by Muscle Reinforcement, Skin Refinement, Bone Forging, and capped by Connate Stage, each further divided into four stages, namely Beginner, Intermediate, Advanced, and Peak. 

According to him, each stage reflected a significant jump in power. Even the minor stages represented a significant jump that made battling across ranks difficult, while fighting against stronger major ranks was apparently treated as a minor miracle. 

In a way, I found it similar to the concept of Mage Circles. Each increase of the mage circle represented a multiplication of power, threatening several mages of a lower circle with ease. 

The capabilities he mentioned were impressive, but only from the perspective of my powerless self. From the feats he shared of higher-stage martial artists, I could confidently state that I could have dealt with an army of Connate martial artists when I had my abilities. 

Of course, ultimately, a theoretical superiority meant nothing. For once, I didn’t have any mana, a situation that was unlikely to change any time soon. 

More importantly, no matter what the kid said, I knew that so-called Connate martial artists were not the peak power in this corner of the universe. When I faced that cultivator, I was utterly outclassed, a full-powered strike from me barely slowing down. 

And that was with me when I was empowered by the magical fortress, and he was wounded, exhausted, and drained of his own source of power. 

No, the day I underestimated the plane I found myself in was the day I would sign my death warrant. 

So, instead of focusing on the relative difference in ranks, I decided to focus on more practical aspects, though I decided to wait until we camped for the night. Until then, I continued to ask him questions, not just about the martial arts, but also about this particular corner of the world. 

Too bad his answers about the latter weren’t particularly useful. While he had mentioned several details, including the fact that the land was under the control of an Empire, it meant very little. The kid’s lack of education meant that any information he shared about politics barely counted as gossip. 

Luckily, the same didn’t apply to martial arts. Some of his offhand comments were far more enlightening than his deliberate explanations, which wasn’t a surprise. He was wholly focused on the impact of the martial arts; everything that could help him punch harder, move faster, and accumulate internal energy more quickly was useful, while the rest was useless fluff. 

For me, it was the exact opposite. I needed to understand what the internal energy was. His offhand comments, mostly parroting half-remembered comments of his old teachers, gave me some ideas. Crossing it with his training methods, the enforced dietary plan of the school, and what I was able to feel from the brief battle I had interfered, I had a working theory. 

The internal energy was the wild energy that was generated by some of the stronger natural entities, which his explanation categorized as savage beasts and medicinal plants. Whatever that wild energy was apparently also contained in normal food, but in much lesser quantities. 

The conversion process was more interesting. The kid insisted that, without corresponding martial arts, trying to consume medicinal plants and savage beast meat could easily kill a person unless diluted. More importantly, he insisted that, without the accompanying mantras, the martial techniques couldn’t be used to accumulate internal energy. 

It was easy to assume that they were nothing more than mental tricks to allow him to focus on the moves, but I would be a pretty terrible mage if I took such an easy explanation without checking. 

Especially when, something that I felt in that internal energy tickled my understanding, hinting a greater mystery about its nature. 

So, when it was finally time for the camp for the night, I was feeling pretty excited despite the pain caused by the long trek, pushing my body toward the limits I had never approached since my childhood. 

“Should I try hunting, my lord?” he asked. 

“No,” I replied. “Not yet. Flare your internal energy for me first.“

He needed a cure. I needed to understand. 

A profitable cooperation.