Chapter 23: 95. History

Yoshika was feeling quite proud of herself as she arrived at the usual gazebo to await Elder Qin’s next lesson. She had finally broken free of Elder Qin’s seal and regained the use of her domain. As usual, Elder Qin was making her wait while he did whatever it was he did when not teaching lessons—probably practicing his scowl or something. Yoshika wasn’t going to let it get to her, though, she was too busy enjoying the restoration of her domain.

She took in the scenery around her. As always it was a beautiful mix of lush greenery and colorful hanging flowers, but now she could sense it with her domain instead of just enjoying the view. Through her domain, Yoshika could sense the way the mana flowed through the air, guided by some unseen formation to sustain the plants here regardless of the weather. Seeing it that way, Yoshika could understand that this was how the garden was meant to be seen. The flow of mana was as much a part of the artistry of the place as the garden itself.

“So you’ve finally broken the seal. That took much longer than I had anticipated.”

Yoshika didn’t know how Elder Qin managed to just appear without her domain detecting him like that. Now that he was here, she could sense him just fine, but as far as she could tell he had simply popped into existence right where he was standing. She didn’t let herself be disappointed by his subdued reaction to her accomplishment.

“One day we’ll figure out how you keep sneaking up like that. Did you make this place?”

Elder Qin seemed momentarily taken aback as Yoshika spoke with both of her voices in chorus—she was doing it intentionally this time. He rallied quickly, schooling his expression as he responded.

“I did, yes. Dedicating one’s life entirely to cultivation can lead to a dangerous disconnection from the world at large—practicing the arts keeps one grounded.”

“We didn’t take you for a gardener. How did you create the formation? Isn’t that a Goryeon technique?”

Elder Qin frowned—well, deeper than usual.

“Goryeo is not the sole authority on spell formations, nor talismans for that matter. Such techniques have existed since long before the practice of mental cultivation—they simply lend themselves well to the abilities that a mage develops.”

“Huh, we suppose that makes sense.”

“Is there a reason the two of you are speaking like that?”

Yoshika turned away from the garden to look up at Elder Qin for the first time since he’d arrived, both of her bodies moving in perfect synchronization.

“Mhm, we’re linked at the moment—like when you spoke to us on the mountain.”

“I gathered that much. It doesn’t answer my question.”

“We thought that it would be good to demonstrate the link for you and properly introduce ourselves—we’ve already done so with the other deans. We are Yoshika—we spoke before, but we’re not sure you realized what we were.”

Qin Zhao’s eyebrows rose.

“You weren’t two minds inhabiting one body through the connection of your domain?”

Yoshika shook her heads.

“Nope, we’re one mind when linked like this. That’s why we’re speaking like this, to make it clear that you are speaking to both at the same time. Well, the other deans found it a bit unsettling, but we didn’t think it would bother you.”

Elder Qin’s eyes narrowed as Yoshika stared up at him innocently.

“I see that Miss An’s irreverence is not entirely subdued by Miss Lee’s better judgement in that state.”

“We think we’ve been pretty polite. Maybe a bit informal, but we would probably end up making a mockery of Qin’s etiquette if we tried to follow it anyway.”

He sighed and shook his head.

“I suppose you would. I had surmised that a shared domain such as yours would require a partial merging of the soul—such as that which is accomplished through dual cultivation. Before such techniques were outlawed in the Empire, many of the most talented healers would use dual cultivation in order to allow them to use more powerful self-healing techniques on others. I had suspected that you were using a similar technique to heal Miss Lee, but now I see that I was only partially correct.”

Yoshika widened her eyes in surprise. She was always surprised when the elder admitted to fallibility. It wasn’t like he rarely did so—it just fit strangely with his self-assured, imperious attitude.

“Are there any other abilities that this ‘link’ has granted you?”

“Actually, we wanted to discuss that with you...”

Yoshika explained the sudden surge in the strength of her noxious aura, and how it had nearly killed Sun Jaehwa. He stroked his beard slowly as he listened.

“Intriguing. Should I also assume that you are able to channel any of your techniques through either body as needed?”

Yoshika nodded.

“We think so. We haven’t tested it extensively, but at least we were able to use Tranquility of the Verdant Marsh to heal someone that Jia was touching.”

“I see. Then I believe there are two reasons for the phenomenon you described. The first is obvious—most likely you’ve thought of it yourself—there are two of you. It is only natural that the combined strength of two cultivators would be greater than one, alone. The second is more complicated.

“You’ve no doubt experienced such surges in power before, since gaining your domain. These will have been preceded by particularly intense flashes of insight into the nature of yourself, your domain, or your path towards the heavenly dao. This is a natural part of the progression of any xiantian cultivator.”

“But we’re not—”

Elder Qin cut off her protest with a sharp gesture.

“Perhaps not as it is commonly understood—you lack the sheer power, and the ability to truly comprehend divine energy. Yet you have a domain, you can sense divine energy, and you have the beginnings of a divine spark. If transcending the houtian realm is the first step on the path to divinity, then perhaps you can be said to have taken a half step or less. You have a long way to go before that step has been truly completed, but that’s no reason to neglect the abilities it affords you.”

Yoshika remained silent for a few moments. She had imagined cultivation as a straight line from one stage to the next, simply measuring the relative power by advancement through the stages and eventually into the xiantian realm. Apparently it wasn’t quite so simple.

“What’s a divine spark? We feel like we’ve heard the term before, but we can’t remember where.”

“The divine spark is the means by which spiritual energy is transformed into divine energy. Each mote of divine energy requires vast quantities of spiritual energy in perfect balance, but it is not enough to simply collect and condense spiritual energy. There is a limit to how much one can focus spiritual energy before a divine spark is required to affect further change. Awakening to a divine spark is one of the most crucial steps in the breakthrough to xiantian—one which you have already achieved.”

Yoshika frowned. That explained what a divine spark did, but not what it was, really. She probably wasn’t going to get a better answer out of Elder Qin, though, so she decided to drop it for now.

“So our aura was stronger because we understood our domain better?”

“Essentially, yes. I am uncertain how techniques from the other disciplines will be affected, but a stronger domain will always enhance spiritual techniques—Tranquility of the Verdant marsh should have been similarly enhanced.”

Now that she thought about it, she had managed to heal Sun Jaehwa from life threatening injuries unusually quickly. It hadn’t really occurred to her at the time, with the stress of everything else going on.

“It was. Actually, we’d been meaning to ask—why are healing techniques not more common? The medical pavilion seems to rely mostly on—well, medicine. Xin Wei is the only other qi healer we’ve met, even though Zheng Long used the same technique that we do for his self-healing.”

Elder Qin let out a long suffering sigh.

“There are many reasons. Goryeo’s external magic and Yamato’s martial techniques are unsuited for healing, though self-regeneration is not uncommon among martial artists. While the spiritual techniques of my nation are well-suited toward such techniques, there are...complicating factors.”

He made a sour face as he spoke, and seemed hesitant to go on. She knew she shouldn’t prod him, but Yoshika’s curiosity got the better of her.

“Like what?”

Elder Qin grimaced.

“Tsk, politics of course. I will not trouble you with the full history, but after dual cultivation was outlawed, many of the great sects took advantage of the new mandate to suppress the healing sects. In truth, it was a thinly veiled excuse to crush their opposition and steal their techniques as well as their...talents. The masters and disciples of such sects—particularly the women—sooner swallowed their own tongues than submit themselves to the exploitation of the great sects. Their techniques died with them.”

Yoshika blanched, Jia’s face was horrified while Eui’s was furious at the revelation—both matched with her emotions.

“That’s fucking horrible! How could the sects allow that to happen?”

Elder Qin frowned down at her, but made no mention of her vulgarity as he shook his head ruefully.

You are reading story Fates Parallel (A Xianxia/Wuxia Inspired Cultivation Story) at novel35.com

“They didn’t—at least, not all of them. Many sects opposed the actions of the great sects, even one of the great sects themselves. The Xin clan’s Great Spiritual Flowing Purewater sect took many of the healing sects into their protection as branch sects. To this day, they suffer the political backlash from their actions, and are no longer granted authority as one of the great sects.”

“They were punished for that!?”

Qin Zhao looked like he was going to spit for a moment, but elected to simply scoff.

“Of course not. Not officially at any rate. The imperial family maintains a stance of neutrality between the great sects. However, decades as a political pariah were bound to take their toll on the sect, and though it is trivial to understand why it happened, the Xin clan’s decline is not officially a direct result of their protection of healing sects.”

Yoshika was shocked and disgusted by the tale. Every time she heard about the history of Qin she became more determined to never set foot in that nation. In the back of her mind, she knew that her own nation and Yamato had probably committed similar atrocities in their own histories—she just hadn’t learned about them yet.

“I trust your curiosity is satisfied. Enough about that—how have you progressed with your new techniques?”

“Uh...well, about that—”

“You haven’t begun, have you?”

Yoshika cringed as Elder Qin leveled his signature scowl at her. He was right—she’d been so caught up between tutoring the Yamato students, dealing with Sun Jaehwa’s bullying, and considering Hayakawa’s new offer that it had almost entirely slipped her mind.

“Well, no. We did break the seal, though!”

“You are going to need to do better than that if you hope to prepare yourselves for the tournament at the year’s end. As my disciples, I expect you to represent yourselves well in all divisions. Singles and doubles are obvious, but have you considered who will join you for the team division?”

Yoshika was taken aback by Elder Qin’s intensity—she didn’t expect him to take something like the tournament so seriously.

“We had assumed that Eunae, Rika, and Dae would join us again. We’ve worked well with them in the past.”

“And your sixth?”

Yoshika paused. She had forgotten that the division called for teams of up to six. She supposed that they could still enter as five, but it would be a waste of potential. Who could they ask to join them?

“We hadn’t really considered it. We can ask the others next time we get the chance.”

“See that you do. The team division is likely to be the most competitive and prestigious. Individual strength is valuable, but the importance of good leadership cannot be understated. Many of the disciples here are future leaders of sects, provinces, or even entire nations. If you cannot contend well against them, then you are unlikely to have any future beyond your stay at this academy.”

Yoshika chewed that over bitterly. Of course she knew what he meant—if the Awakening Dragon Sect thought they could get away with it, they’d probably kill her the second she stepped outside the academy’s shield formation. A strong showing in the tournament might give them pause, or impress the Hayakawa family enough to take her in. That reminded her—

“Elder, about our future after the academy. We’ve received an offer from Hayakawa Kaede—”

“I’m aware of your arrangement. You’ve submitted yourselves as vassals, have you not? A disappointing development, but perhaps wise.”

“Not that—actually, Hayakawa doesn’t think that her clan is likely to accept us as vassals anymore. Instead she thinks that we could become allies of the clan by offering the awakening stone to them.”

Qin Zhao froze. He stared at her incredulously, and for a moment Yoshika saw past the veneer of implacability as a concerned frown crossed his features for just a fraction of a second before he schooled his expression.

“Miss—Yoshika, have you considered the full implications of what that offer means?”

Yoshika shrugged.

“We’ve tried, but we really don’t know enough to understand what it would mean. That’s why we’re telling you about it now. We need to know more before we can really make a decision—we don’t want to rush into it this time.”

Elder Qin let out a sigh of relief and sat down on one of the benches, his expression was stern as he explained.

“It would mean war. There is a world of difference between an awakening stone in the hands of a rogue cultivator in service to the Yamato shogunate, and an awakening stone in the hands of the shogunate itself. The balance of power on this continent is extremely fragile, and while the immediate effects would be minimal, that awakening stone would represent a future threat of unimaginable proportions.”

Yoshika’s eyes widened. She didn’t realize it would be so extreme.

“Why? And if it was such a big deal why let us have it? Not that we’re asking you to take it away, but it seems strange that you’d leave something like that in our hands.”

“I told you before—I will not lower myself to rob a disciple. It was Yan Zhihao’s foolishness that allowed it to fall into your hands in the first place, and Yan Hao’s for giving it to that imbecile before that. If Yan Ren had known about it, he would never have allowed it to happen—to say nothing of the sect grandmaster, Yan De himself.

“As for why it would disrupt the balance of power on the continent...do you know the rate at which the populations of our nations produce immortal practitioners?”

Yoshika shook her heads. She knew it was rare, but she’d never really had it broken down for her.

“Goryeo has the smallest population, but nearly one in a hundred of your population become mages.”

That didn’t sound like a lot, but Qin Zhao made it sound significant.

“In the empire, we have the greatest territory and the highest population. However, the number of cultivators is much smaller. Fewer than one in a thousand mortals ever awaken their qi.”

That was...way less than Yoshika thought. Dae was right, her perspective had been skewed quite badly, living in the academy. Eui had grown up among those who were groomed for magehood, and Jia had spent her life actively avoiding them as much as possible.

“Finally, Yamato. They lack either the empire’s population or Goryeo’s nearly impervious shield formation technology. For millennia, it was believed that body cultivators could not ascend beyond the ranks of houtian, and even now only one individual has ever done so. Yet, they persist as one of the three main powers on the continent. Why do you think that is?”

“From the way the conversation is going, we’re guessing it has to do with the number of practitioners?”

Elder Qin nodded.

“Indeed. Among the population of Yamato, it is estimated that approximately half of them are martial artists.”

Yoshika’s eyes felt like they were going to bulge out of her heads as she made a choking noise.

“What!?”

Elder Qin inclined his head.

“That’s not an uncommon reaction. The vast majority of them never advance past the first stage, but every person born in Yamato receives martial arts training as part of their compulsory military service, without fail. A single xiantian cultivator might repel an entire army of first stage martial artists, but what about a hundred? A thousand armies? The empire’s cultivators are powerful, but few in number, and our territory is vast. This is how Yamato keeps its power on the continent.”

Yoshika took a moment to relax and slow her breathing. She had no idea that it was like that. Suddenly the more common representation among the Yamato students made a lot more sense.

“So you’re worried that the awakening stone would give Yamato access to spiritual artists, and upset the balance of power. Doesn’t the academy do the same thing, though? And what’s stopping Qin from just adopting the same policy of training their own armies of martial artists?”

“Politics, as always. The empire places great cultural emphasis on tradition—it resists change. I am considered among my peers to be radically progressive. Spreading qi cultivation to the other nations was a controversial decision, which was begrudgingly accepted on the premise that the awakening numbers would likely remain the same across all populations, and that the other nations would have to create their own techniques from the ground up.”

Yoshika began to see what he was saying now.

“But the awakening stone would mess with those numbers, wouldn’t it?”

“To put it mildly, yes. I would not be surprised if Hayakawa Takeo mandated that every individual who failed to awaken to at least one discipline be exposed to the awakening stone, regardless of casualties. If even a tenth of them survived, it would represent an extreme and rapid increase in Yamato’s military strength.”

Yoshika felt sick at the idea of forcing people to use the awakening stone when it might kill them. She didn’t think that Hayakawa Kaede would do that, but it wasn’t just Kaede that she would be entrusting with the stone. She’d just learned of one atrocity committed in the pursuit of political power—could she live with herself if she was responsible for another?

“I cannot make the decision for you, but I advise you to consider it very carefully before making a decision. In the meantime, focus on preparing for the tournament. Since you didn’t follow my advice from last week, it remains the same—each of you must choose a new technique to train and master it to the best of your ability by the end of the year. You are dismissed.”

Elder Qin didn’t wait for a response before turning away and vanishing. Leaving Yoshika alone with her thoughts.

You can find story with these keywords: Fates Parallel (A Xianxia/Wuxia Inspired Cultivation Story), Read Fates Parallel (A Xianxia/Wuxia Inspired Cultivation Story), Fates Parallel (A Xianxia/Wuxia Inspired Cultivation Story) novel, Fates Parallel (A Xianxia/Wuxia Inspired Cultivation Story) book, Fates Parallel (A Xianxia/Wuxia Inspired Cultivation Story) story, Fates Parallel (A Xianxia/Wuxia Inspired Cultivation Story) full, Fates Parallel (A Xianxia/Wuxia Inspired Cultivation Story) Latest Chapter