The layout of the Iron Bones sect was simple and straightforward. A cluster of buildings formed the administrative heart of the sect. To one side were the residences of the sect disciples, while on the other was temporary housing for guests like Muchen. As a representative of a foreign sect, they were happy to offer him free room and board for at least one night. As a representative of a largely unknown upstart of a sect, the room he was assigned was decorated very simply.
Simply, but not cheaply. Muchen didn't have a deep background in the cultivation world, nor the heightened senses of someone like Xinyi who could see through spiritual material at a glance, but even he could tell that if he could somehow carry out and sell off the room's contents then he would be swimming in silver.
The furniture in his room had been crafted out of wood that had its own spirituality to it. The calligraphy scroll hanging on the wall might hold only a line of text, but as he gazed at it he could feel an aura weighing down on him. The potted plant decorating the side table was a spiritual herb of some sort.
No doubt there were more subtle signs of wealth that he couldn't see. Muchen didn't let himself dwell on it. After all, he had long known that Flower Mountain needed to start earning more money as soon as possible.
He had just gotten settled in his room for long when there was a knock on the door. He answered it to find Elder Yang waiting outside.
"I thought it wise to deepen the understanding between our sects," he said, "beginning with a brief tour of the sect grounds before dinner."
"Thank you for your kindness," Muchen replied, falling into step as Elder Yang led the way.
This level of treatment was a solid step up from what he had enjoyed at the gate. Muchen couldn't help but wonder if the elder had already sampled the liquor he'd handed over.
"You've seen the sparring ground in the outer yard," the elder said, before gesturing at the field next to them. It was also a large square of dirt, but it at least showed some sign of being maintained. There were no obvious scars left in the ground from past battles. There was also a set of bleachers around the outside. "This is where more noteworthy challenge matches are held."
"Quite impressive," Muchen said, feeling a pang of sympathy for the disciples tasked with maintaining the grounds.
Elder Yang nodded in response, leading him in a stroll along the side of the dueling grounds. "Flower Mountain is a newly established sect."
"Well," Muchen said, "we never formally registered with the Qianzhan Empire."
He had to be a little careful about telling outright lies to a sect official. Not that he thought the man would lash out, but more that it would be embarrassing to be caught fibbing. After all, he was talking to somebody who had been around for a while and knew a bit about the world.
That said, shading the truth in his favor was safe enough. Hinting at a storied past without actually providing any of the details added a bit of gravitas to the sect without volunteering any pesky facts that would cause him to lose face if they turned out not to be true.
Muchen's little display at the front gate would give him some mystique. Elemental manipulation was a relatively rare ability. The fact that somebody with that level of attainment was used by the Flower Mountain sect as a mere envoy suggested that they had some background. Of course, that particular sleight of hand would collapse if it came out that Muchen was the sect leader, but he didn't anticipate being pressed on the topic.
"I'm curious," Muchen said, "if you can tell me where the Iron Bones sect gets its spirit stones?"
As far as he knew, there was no spirit stone mine in the area. Or, more specifically, as far as he knew, the Iron Bones sect didn't have the strength to hold onto its territory if news got out that it was sitting on a spirit stone mine. He thought it was fair to trade his answer for a question.
"It's no great secret," Elder Yang said, folding his hands in front of him in a way that hid each hand in the opposite sleeve. "That we enjoy a close relationship with the Leaping Carp sect."
"Close enough for them to send you spirit stones?" Muchen asked.
Elder Yang gave him a look. "Do you plan on entering the upcoming qualification tournament?"
It seemed Elder Yang wasn't interested in answering questions for free. Well, fair enough.
"Of course," Muchen replied. "Why else would I be in such a hurry to get spirit stones?"
Elder Yang nodded. They walked together in silence for a moment before he spoke again.
"The Leaping Carp sect doesn't hand out spirit stones for free," he said. "Thanks to our close relationship, they allow us to participate in the harvest of their guardian space. Of course, we still must tithe them a share of spoils."
Muchen nodded. He knew that the Leaping Carp sect was a Guardian Sect, but he could only speculate as to what a guardian space might be. Of course, he wasn't about to ask about it now and expose his ignorance.
"It's not a business for the faint of heart," the elder continued. "Even if you could work out a similar bargain with the Leaping Carp sect, you have to be willing to put your life on the line in order to reap a good harvest."
He gestured towards the training ground in front of them. A dozen disciples were standing in line, working through a practice kata under the sharp gaze of another sect elder. These boys were in their mid teens, old enough that they should have begun proper cultivation. Muchen couldn't spot any flaws in their form as they labored under the afternoon sunlight, showing off a more focused form of the ferocity that he'd seen on display in the younger disciples' sparring.
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"To tell the truth, our sect is more focused on craftsmanship than combat," Muchen said, for once being completely honest. "The spirits I gave you earlier were produced by our disciples."
"Intriguing," the elder said, his hands clasped in front of him again as he gave Muchen an assessing look. "It's not a well-trod path."
He was polite enough not to allow any outright scorn into his tone, but Muchen could still hear a strong note of skepticism. He didn't mind. After all, what he was doing was well outside the norm on the Qianzhan Continent. Part of him bristled at having a bunch of primitive meatheads look down on his chosen path, but it wasn't like he needed to prove himself right just this minute. Besides, it didn't hurt to be underestimated. Especially with a tournament coming up.
"If we did what everybody else does," Muchen said, "we'd only get the same results as everybody else."
Mimicking the successful might lead to a bit of success, but in the end you'd just be an imitation. Muchen would rather strike out on his own and take his chances following his own dreams. Of course, it helped when his dreams were supplemented with insight into futuristic technologies that nobody else on the Qianzhan Continent had seen before.
"I suppose that's true," Elder Yang replied. "Come, it's time to gather for the evening meal."
He led the way towards the center of the sect. Muchen took the opportunity to give the buildings a closer appraisal. Everything he could see was built out of wood. He couldn't tell if it was all some kind of spiritual material, but at the very least the quality of the wood and the fit and finish were a solid cut above anything he'd seen at Jiuli City, let alone Li Village.
It was enough to make him wonder if all of the Iron Bones sect's income really came from life and death combat in some kind of pocket dimension. If they had access to a forest of some kind of spiritually active lumber, then trading for spirit stones would be a straightforward matter. They might want to hide such a thing from him because bringing home spirit stones through combat was more glorious, or they were worried that he would try to poach some of their natural resources.
The elder led the way to a large dining hall. It was made out of that same spiritual lumber. The entryway was decorated with a beautiful set of wood carvings. The cultivators locked in combat with spiritual beasts looked realistic enough that Muchen half expected them to move as he walked by.
He followed the elder to the far end of the room, where several tables had been set up on top of a raised stage. Elder Yang guided him up onto the stage and led the way to a seat at one of the tables off to the side. The table was big enough to seat a dozen people, and was about half full. The other men seated nearby looked to be in their twenties and thirties, though Muchen knew better than to take that at face value.
The other tables on the stage were similarly about half full, although more people trickled in every minute. The center table was full of old men, while the table opposite Muchen hosted about half a dozen teenagers.
All three of the tables on stage boasted a commanding view of the rest of the room. To Muchen's eye, it looked like a highly refined, elegant version of a high school cafeteria. Rows of large tables offered seating for dozens if not hundreds of students. The impression was only strengthened when a group of young teens from the martial arts field walked into the room, trailing behind their instructor. The whole group of them headed for the buffet off to the side of the room before making their way to their seats.
Every student he saw had filled their plates to capacity, if not a little beyond. Martial training was hungry work.
Muchen's table enjoyed a higher level of service than the crowd below. He didn't have to retrieve his own food or even place an order before a waiter delivered a small plate of finger food. He waited for Elder Yang to take the lead before tucking into his own portion.
Muchen's first thought was that the craftsmanship wasn't quite up to Chuhua's level. His second thought was surprise, as he felt a subtle stream of spiritual energy flowing through his body. It wasn't as strong or pure as the energy provided by the spirit rice he'd bought from the Cloudy Peaks Sect, but it was enough to prove that this was no ordinary fare.
Elder Yang smiled at Muchen's curious look. "The fields surrounding our sect grounds are humble, but they do their part to aid our disciples' growth.
Muchen nodded, getting his expression under control. He didn't need to put on airs, but it was still best if he didn't act like some kind of country bumpkin who had never seen the world before.
The Iron Bones sect didn't hold to a strict rule of silence while they ate. The kids down below filled the room with a steady buzz of conversation, while the elders at Muchen's table kept up a more refined level of gossip. For his part, Muchen kept his mouth shut and did his best to learn what he could.
While the elders didn't mention any earth shattering secrets over their meal, Muchen was at least able to pick up enough to understand the general composition of the sect. It helped that almost all members of the sect had gathered together for the meal, letting Muchen flesh out his knowledge through his own observation.
If his own Flower Mountain sect was taking shape as something of a distillery, or a factory producing perfume and alcoholic spirits, the Iron Bones sect had devoted itself to the production of a single product: cultivators. Specifically, cultivators who could fight.
He didn't think the income from harvesting the guardian space was their only source of income, but to all appearances that revenue stream was indeed one of the pillars of the sect. Muchen still wasn't entirely clear on what that harvest entailed, but it was obviously a lot more violent than harvesting rice. To that end, the Iron Bones sect needed to raise up a steady flow of competent fighters. If they were any kind of factory, their main product was violence.
Muchen was torn. On the one hand, he was glad that there was a way to translage combat prowess into cash that didn't involve robbery and murder. If anything, culling the dangers of the guardian space sounded like a net positive for peace and prosperity on the Qianzhan Continent.
On the other hand, he was concerned about the sheer potential for violence represented by even such a small sect. If they were to be cut off from the guardian space for some reason and turn to banditry, his own Flower Mountain sect would be little more than a speedbump.
Unless Xinyi got involved. Nice as it was to have a trump card in reserve, Muchen was uneasy at the idea that his trump card was the only card he had.
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