47th of Season of Air, 58th year of the 32nd cycle

  “That was so depressing,” Elder Woodhopper said after closing the door and making sure Newstar had left the range of her perception.

  “It needed to be done.” Elder Alabaster entered the corridor from a side room adjacent to the one in which Elder Woodhopper had the sensitive conversation with Newstar.

  “You owe me a big favor.”

  “Did you really have to tell him you were having a sex talk with him at my behest?”

  “Yes,” Elder Woodhopper grumbled, heading back to the parlor, with Elder Alabaster following behind her. “He’s a good kid, but there’s no way I would have done this on my own. Sex talk is depressing. I sometimes envy those who get tangled up in their youth, but then I realize they aren’t around precisely because they wasted time in a race against time.”

  Elder Alabaster produced a bottle of wine and poured each of them a cup as they sat down.

  “We are fortunate you become the object of his desire. Imagine if he had gotten involved with another disciple. One unscrupulous enough to ignore the age difference.”

  Elder Woodhopper nodded. “He’s barely a baby.”

  Elder Alabaster burst into laughter. “You do know that when he reaches his peak at the ninth or the tenth realm, he will start a family with someone you and I are currently thinking of as a living fossil.”

  Elder Woodhopper downed her wine. “A damn shame he didn’t express his interest in around two thousand years. I don’t think I can reach the eighth realm.”

  Elder Alabaster gawked.

  “You can’t really mean that. He’s a child!”

  “He won’t be in two thousand years. Age blurs beyond a certain point.”

  “You like him?”

  “Heavens no. He’s just a baby. He has no idea about life or the world in general. But that day on the field when the sun destroyed the training field… well you saw it.”

  Alabaster nodded. If Newstar survived and reached a high enough realm, he would become that blaze. And that furnace of energy was powerful enough to scorch their sect master and a team of high realm fire cultivators.

  “He needs to live long enough to reach that level. And he needs to reach it as quickly as possible with his foundations remaining solid.”

  Elder Woodhopper looked at Elder Alabaster. “Why?”

  “Sect Master believes the incident will repeat, annually, biannually, once every decade. The venerable of Chamber of Commerce has already reached out to other sects in search for ingredients needed to forge a ninth realm sunspear, but there’s only so many times we can make the attempt before others become suspicious.”

  Elder Woodhopper considered the ruse. They could use that excuse for a decade or two. Explorer’s Gate would face ridicule and loss of face because of the failures, but that was a negligible price for raising a ninth realm elder who can fight like a tenth realm one, or more shockingly a tenth realm one with a body beyond human limits.

  “How much does the sect intend to invest in your disciple?”

  “I think the sect master will go all in. Newstar will have our top cultivation chamber reserved half the time, as well as the best realm-appropriate pills we can find. He should reach the fourth realm before he turns twenty-five, the fifth before he’s fifty.”

  Elder Woodhopper gulped. “Won’t that drive him mad? Body needs to adapt to the spirit, mind needs to adapt to the body.”

  Elder Alabaster shared her peer’s worries but spoke with confidence. “Sect master said he would personally monitor his progress, and he has already agreed with the venerable of the Chamber of Punishment that she would take him as a disciple once he reached the sixth realm. He would be her legacy disciple.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  That was a shocking revelation. As masters advanced in their age, they became pickier and pickier about their disciples. Venerable Alorex was mere centuries away from dying of old age, her previous disciple was the current sect master. Everyone believed he was her legacy disciple; for her to accept another spoke volumes about Newstar and the sect’s expectations of him.

  In comparison, the two elders discussing his future were insignificant in the long run. A tenth realm master would live to see at least a hundred millennia blur past them before they reached the end of their longevity. Often twice that long.

  The only exception to that rule were the imperials, who lived but a fraction of that time. The heavens were fair, the imperials blazed brighter than their peers, even Newstar was but an ant compared to them, but that blaze burned them from the inside, the tide of time drowning them without mercy.

  “Do you think he will be invited to marry an imperial?” Elder Woodhopper asked, stunning Elder Alabaster, who wondered what led the other woman’s train of thought in that particular direction.

  She considered the question, and if Newt reached the ninth realm before the age of one thousand, the absurd notion seemed a strong possibility. He might even sire the next emperor.

  “I don’t know. Maybe. Assuming he becomes strong enough, at least one of the emperor’s daughters will seek to gamble on having his children. Who knows, maybe even the emperor herself might give it a try, but I think she’s around three thousand years old now, so she might depart before he matures enough.”

  Elder Alabaster chuckled.

  “I really need to send an appropriate gift to Frostgrave, to thank her for the treasure she sent us. Had she known the extent of his talent and ability, she might have kept him for herself.”

  “And he would have died on the summer solstice. He would have perished without fire cultivators strong enough to lessen his burden.”

  The women sat in silence, emptying Elder Alabaster’s bottle of wine.

  “Thank you for your time.” Elder Alabaster stood and left after Elder Woodhopper gave her a nod.

  She stared into the distance wondering whether she should have dropped hints to Newstar that she was not against the idea when he grew powerful enough. Pursuing him after what had happened earlier that night would be demeaning. Yet missing the chance…

  ***

  Newt left Elder Woodhopper’s home, his head a mess of murky, half-completed thoughts, their threads a yarn-like mess. He needed someone to talk to, and Obi seemed like just the right person. Naturally, Dandelion was Newt’s first pick, but the man had a serious job to do, and interrupting him to discuss personal matters was inappropriate.

  So, Newt headed for the inner disciple dormitory and climbed the stairs. He reached his old apartment door and was about to knock when he heard a woman moaning.

  Newt’s face went crimson, he turned around and escaped the building, walking at a brisk walk, almost running. Rose and Jasmine did not have boyfriends. Maybe it was the new girl, but Newt was certain Jasmine would have complained about Spark, besides it did not sound like her. That left only one person.

  I didn’t know Obi was seeing someone.

  Newt had too much on his mind. He could not settle down, so he paced and walked around the island, slowly processing everything Elder Woodhopper had told him. He kind of knew everything she mentioned. His parents had reached the third realm, and believing that was the peak they would achieve, had him. He was vaguely aware they discussed having another child, but that never happened for some reason.

  Was I such a horrible child they didn’t want anything to do with children anymore?

  Newt doubted it, but the egotistical thought still cropped up from somewhere. They were past one hundred when they had him, fairly young, but they had no hope of reaching the fourth realm, so it probably seemed like the right time.

  What about me? When would I have children? If I am aiming for the top, I will be at least a thousand years old, maybe two or three.

  He shuddered, recalling Elder Woodhopper saying that most of her siblings were gravestones when she was a girl. How terrifying was that?

  But that is the truth of cultivation. Heavens knew how many descendants the founder of his clan had buried before he joined them. If Newt had children, would it really be like that? Would he really watch them grow, age, and die, helpless, since nobody could climb the heavens for them?

  Would he teach them his cultivation methods? He wondered. Spiritual energy gathering was a major factor in cultivation, but not a deciding one. If he were wealthy enough, that passive energy gathering would have meant little. Pills could accomplish more in less time. Also, his descendants would have access to Magmin’s realm, but the serpent-dragon would pose a large threat, and it was possible Newt was the only one who could enter it.

  He sighed.

  I’m worrying about things I can’t influence, and even if I could, they are in a future so distant my choices now won’t make any difference.

  Rationally, he should have gone to the Chamber of Runes and continued his work, but he was in no mood for that, so he walked until he reached the shore. He stood on black sand, watching waves, letting all thought leave him until his mind was empty, save for the push and pull.