novelraw Book 12: Chapter 49: Far Enough
Book 12: Chapter 49: Far Enough
Book 12: Chapter 49: Far EnoughAfter three straight days of what Sen felt was gentle instruction in alchemy, he let the assembled cultivators return to the army. He’d been intent on continuing for at least another day or two. However, one of the cultivators had simply collapsed from exhaustion. He supposed that he might have been overestimating their stamina based on his own stamina when he’d been at similar levels of advancement. When he left the building he’d made for the training, he found Song Lan waiting outside. She was wearing a decidedly disapproving expression. He decided that he’d wait for her to say something. That left the pair in a somewhat awkward staring contest before she finally spoke.
“Were you trying to crush their wills, or was that just a side effect?”
“Trying,” muttered Sen before shaking his head. “No, I wasn’t trying to do that.”
“Then, what were you doing?”
“Correcting an egregious number of bad habits and misconceptions. Hopefully, that will result in alchemists who can actually do something useful for the army. The whole army. And also spare me the horror of watching them waste alchemical ingredients.”
“And that was all?” asked the other nascent soul cultivator, clearly unconvinced.
“That was all. You can tell by the way that everyone left that building alive. Even the ones I didn’t like,” said Sen.
“And which ones didn’t you like?”
“Honestly? All of them,” said Sen.
“All of them?” asked the stunned Song Lan.“Some were better. Some were worse, but I’ll be a happier man if I never have to speak to any of them again.”
The woman closed her eyes when, in a defeated voice, she asked, “I don’t suppose you made even the slightest effort to hide your disdain for them?”
“I did not,” answered Sen. “I didn’t want to give them the wrong impression.”
“You’ll be dealing with those same cultivators for centuries after this. Maybe longer. Are you sure you want to start making new enemies right now?”
“Enemies? They aren’t even competent alchemists. At the rate things are going, none of them will survive long enough to become my enemies.”
“And what if they choose to leave?”
“Leave?” asked Sen with a very cold smile. “To what? Return to their sects alone and in shame? We both know that they won’t.”
“Maybe so, but you still need allies,” insisted Song Lan.
“Not the kind of allies you mean. I’m not going to coddle them or bargain with them. I’m certainly not going to pretend that they’re more talented than they are just to get them to do what I tell them to do. Half of them still seem to think they’re in a sect. And then there are the generals who still think we’re at court. All of them are trying to play politics. But this is not a sect. This is not a royal court. This is an army, and what an army needs is obedience. So, they will learn to obey.”
“And if all of those alchemists figure out that they’re providing a service you can’t easily replace? What if they refuse to work unless you grant them the privileges they believe they are owed?”
“If they’re stupid enough to try that sort of blackmail,” said Sen, “I’ll break their cultivation and leave them in the wilds. The first time, I’ll just do it to whoever appears to be the leader. The second time, it will be all of them.”
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“That would cripple your army,” said Song Lan.
“Alchemists who won’t do alchemy contribute nothing. Cultivators who won’t fight contribute nothing. That means I lose nothing by executing them. I do, however, gain something from executing them in a particularly frightening way. All things I hope they’re smart enough to realize.”
“Is that meant as a threat?”
“Do I need to threaten you?” asked Sen, a glimmer of amusement shining through for a moment.
“Obviously not. You do understand that I’m not your enemy, correct?”
“That remains to be seen. I know what your motive is for being here. You want revenge on the spirit beasts like everyone else. You’re just a bit more committed than most people. That aligns with my goals. Right now, your experience as a leader is also valuable to me and may help me achieve success.”
“But?”
“But,” said Sen, “motives can change. You may grow tired of the war. Your bloodlust may be sated one day. You may decide that the world would be better off with one less tyrant in it. Especially if we win. Especially since you know that I have no intention of letting the sects continue on as they were.”
There, thought Sen, it’s in the open now. Better to just get it out of the way. From the look on Song Lan’s face, she had at least considered the possibility. It was equally apparent that she hadn’t expected him to consider the possibility. He wanted to be offended and even was a little, but it wasn’t lost on Sen that she probably still saw him as little more than a child. He might be a very talented child, but a child all the same. Unfortunately, his education on the history of the continent included plenty of examples of so-called allies stabbing each other in the back after victory was achieved in a war. It was almost a tradition to make a grab for the throne.
Since he hadn’t made any secret that he planned to grind the sects and their way of doing things into powder, Song Lan probably even felt like she had a valid motive for considering a betrayal in the future. She was a product of the sect mindset, even if she called her sect an order. She probably even imagined rebuilding her sect bigger and better than it ever had been. Things that would prove very difficult with Sen in control of the continent. Even if he was willing to tolerate something vaguely sect-like, it was obvious that those sects were never going to enjoy the kinds of freedom and latitude they felt entitled to.
Unless that pesky tyrant wasn’t around anymore to enforce his particular vision of the world. Of course, that was a lot easier to do when the other person wasn’t so clearly expecting people to try it. It was also a lot riskier when trying to do it to someone who had proven that he was willing to do terrible things to people who pushed too hard. There were, after all, noble houses and sects that didn’t exist anymore because they hadn’t figured that out soon enough. Sen waited patiently while Song Lan appeared to think all of that through.
“Ruthlessness can only carry you so far,” she finally said. “Fear can only carry you so far. Why do you think sects rose up in the first place? Even cultivators don’t stand alone, save for when we face the heavens.”
“I imagine that there are plenty of wandering cultivators who would find that last comment laughable, assuming any of them are still alive. Setting that aside, here is our problem. You and all of the other sect cultivators want me to handle things like you always have. And if I had a few centuries to do it, I might have even considered that option for more than two seconds before rejecting it outright. Do you feel like we have a few centuries to work with? Hells, do you think you think we even have a few decades to work with?”
“No,” said Song Lan.
“Now, I end up putting this question to everyone sooner or later. I guess it’s your turn. Given that our opportunity to do something to save ourselves is probably limited to the next ten years, give or take, what’s your solution? Give me a better way that has a better chance of success. One that is at least as fast as what I’m doing now. If you can do that, I will start doing things your way. I’ll start this very minute.”
What followed that proclamation was a profound and protracted silence. To her credit, it looked to Sen like she was really thinking it through and trying to come up with a better plan. He would be overjoyed if she managed to pull it off. He hated playing the tyrant. The things it required to be convincing sickened him more than a little. If the situation wasn’t so utterly dire and the alternative so bleak, he was completely sure he would have abandoned the role already. When it became clear that the other nascent soul cultivator wasn’t going to find a solution, Sen continued.
“You seem to think that I disagree with you. I don’t. Ruthlessness and fear can only carry me so far. I’m just betting all of our lives that it will carry me, us, far enough.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“Then I die a failure, and the people I love die because of me.”