Unintended Cultivator

V13 Chapter 54 – Every Opportunity to Succeed

The month Sen gave the cultivator scouts to return had passed. It had become five weeks, then six weeks, and then two months. That was when he had to face the truth. They were either dead, captured, or so badly injured that they’d hidden themselves away somewhere. Or, they simply used it as an excuse to run away, he mused. Honestly, given all of those choices, he hoped that they had run away. If they fled, they were probably still alive. If that turned out to be the case, having that weight off his shoulders would be such a relief that he’d forego all punishments. It was a pleasant fantasy. A hopeful fantasy. But it was just a fantasy. He’d seen it in their eyes when they left. They meant to carry out that mission or die trying.

That they hadn’t returned went a long way to confirm that they were moving toward very hostile territory and probably some kind of trap. Yet, the regular scouting missions hadn’t revealed even a suggestion that the spirit beasts were massing. Sen knew that wasn’t the only way they could attack the army. It was, however, the approach that was most likely to succeed in slowing or stopping his advance. He had to assume that was their goal. That and killing him, but that second part mostly went without saying. He wasn’t special in that regard. The spirit beasts wanted to kill everyone. It was just likely that they wanted him dead a little more than they wanted everyone else dead.

As honors went, it was both dubious and one that he could do without. He hadn’t let either of those things keep him from thinking about the possibility of his own death. That wasn’t entirely accurate. Every cultivator thought about that possibility countless times over the course of their lives. He considered what it would mean for the army and humanity. He wasn’t arrogant enough to imagine himself as irreplaceable. He could be replaced. Master Feng could assume control of the army if Sen fell in battle. And, unless he missed his guess, that’s what the elder cultivator would do. It wasn’t a perfect fix to the problem. Master Feng was genuinely indifferent to most people and their survival. But he could lead, if he had to. It would just mean a lot more people would die.

Yet, the army would carry on. The war would proceed. The flame of hope would flicker, but it would continue to burn. At least, Sen hoped it would. He knew better than most that the future could turn into something quite different than what one imagined it would be. Not that the present was particularly enticing, but he would do what needed to be done. At the moment, that meant saving some foundation formation cultivators, mostly from themselves. Sen shook his head as he watched one assume what he could only imagine was a pose he’d learned from someone equally foolish. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the cultivator then shouted the name of the technique at a group of spirit beasts.

“Fiery Fist of Divine Retribution!”

He might be wrong, but Sen was fairly confident the spirit beasts didn’t care what the technique was called. It’s not even a good name, thought Sen. Nor did he expect it to be sufficient to do any serious injury to the spirit beasts. There were only three of them, all ice bears, and around the strength of early-stage core cultivators. Sen had no idea why there were ice bears here. He was confident they didn’t normally live here. Still, if you had to fight ice bears, a fire technique was the appropriate kind of attack to use against them. It would just need to be much stronger. A middle-stage foundation formation using that technique might cause some injuries, but they wouldn’t get a kill. Sen was of a few minds about how to handle the situation.

There was plenty of punishment to go around. By rights, he should punish these cultivators for leaving the camp in a search for whatever they’d come looking for. Glory, probably. They might have been looking for inspiration or ingredients for a pill. They had come into the wilds, so that last one was possible. The reason didn’t really matter. What mattered was that they had snuck away, against Sen’s standing orders. He almost had to punish them. Then, there were their superiors. It was obvious they hadn’t adequately expressed to their juniors the importance of staying close to the army unless given explicit orders to do otherwise.

That could have been an honest lapse in communication. Sen remembered when he’d been in his early training. He’d sometimes heard what he wanted to hear. If their seniors hadn’t been strident, these cultivators could have taken it for a suggestion rather than a rule. He might have even accepted that. Except that their seniors failed to notice their absence. If Sen hadn’t noticed them sneaking away with his spiritual sense, no one would have known where they’d gone. To say nothing of what happened to them when something exactly like what was happening below occurred.

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He’d even waited to see if their seniors were simply hanging back, only to swoop in at the last moment when the lesson had been learned. They weren’t. It was painfully obvious they hadn’t noticed or, if they had, they simply hadn’t cared. That oversight, he wouldn’t accept. Sen also thought that he probably bore some responsibility for the situation. He was in charge, but the distance between him and these cultivators was sufficient to blur his sense of what his precise failure had been. It was something worth considering. Of course, there was also the matter of what to do in the moment.

He could intervene and save them. Letting them die just to prove a point was a huge waste of resources and talent. Of course, intervening too soon could potentially rob them of a last-second insight. He supposed he’d just have to wait and see what happened. He might let the ice bears do some damage before he stepped in. That should drive the lesson home that his rules were not suggestions. Satisfied with that decision, he focused on the fight below again. The cultivator had finally gotten their technique together. Had he been that slow when he was a foundation formation cultivator? Sen honestly wasn’t sure. The spirit beasts hadn’t covered the distance yet, so maybe he was being overly harsh.

The cultivator drove their fist forward. A big, fiery replica of his fist manifested in the air and shot toward the ice bears. It was impressive, in a way. It was big and bright. That would have made for an excellent distraction if the cultivators were planning to run away. Which is what they should have been trying to do. They were outclassed here and, unless they were very new to the army, should have recognized that. The fire fist collided with the lead bear, and flame washed out from it. He watched to see what the cultivators would do. If they were smart, one or both of the others would have techniques ready to follow up immediately.

Even if the fire cultivator’s technique didn’t get the job done, multiple techniques could still finish at least one of the spirit beasts. Two on three still weren’t great odds with the power disparity, but it would have been more manageable. Sen shook his head as the lead ice bear, burned and now infuriated, burst through the flames. The sight of the bear seemed to shake them out of a stupor. That was when the other cultivators started trying to put together additional attacks. It was too late for that, though. They were adequately skilled, but growing panic was slowing them down. Something that the fire cultivator seemed to realize. He drew a dao saber.

“Go!” he shouted at the other two. “I’ll buy you time.”

“But senior!” shouted one of the others.

“Just get out of here!” he bellowed, unleashing his killing intent.

That jarred the other two enough to send them scrambling back toward the army camp. They’d never reach it if any of the bears got past the fire cultivator, which looked inevitable. Not unless their qinggong techniques were a damn sight more polished than anything else he’d seen from them. But there also wasn’t anything between them and the camp. Sen could dismiss them from his mind for the moment. He was curious to see what the fire cultivator would do. Would he come up with a burst of insight? The answer to that question seemed to be no. What he did do was bravely stand his ground.

It was probably futile, but there was a subtle beauty to it as well. The cultivator’s face was serene. He expected to die, had accepted it, but would fight all the same. If only sect cultivators were like this the rest of the time, I might like them a little more, thought Sen. Not the part about dying, but if more cultivators could harbor even a fragment of that serenity, he suspected they would be a little less terrible. Himself included. Sen waited until the last possible moment. He wanted to give the cultivator every opportunity to succeed. When the choice became let the man die or act, he unleashed wind techniques on the ice bears. A pillar of hardened air crushed the one about to kill the fire cultivator. Wind blades killed the others. The man stared with wide eyes at the spot in front of him. The spot where a mangled pile of fur and blood had replaced a charging, murderous spirit beast.

Then, his eyes shot upward and locked on Sen.

“Lord Lu!” the man almost screamed.

It wasn’t clear if it was shock or horror that drove that scream. Sen didn’t worry about it as he descended and landed next to the other man. He also didn’t give the other man a chance to speak.

“Camp,” said Sen in a voice that brooked no arguments. “Now.”