“What just happened, Sara?” I asked her tiredly, reading through the notifications.

“You did it, John,” Sara congratulated me, appearing on the rooftop and beaming at me. “You overloaded your dantian to the point that the qi inside it flooded your body and was absorbed into it, and you controlled it so that it didn’t burst and ruin your cultivation!”

I stared at her in stunned silence for several long moments. “Wait, so it didn’t what?”

She looked at me sheepishly. “Well, it looks like if you’d failed to contain the energy, it might have ruptured your dantian,” she said in an embarrassed tone. “Now, before you get angry, I didn’t know that was a possibility beforehand, I promise! Plus, it doesn’t matter because you controlled it and it worked, right?”

I sighed and leaned my head back against the chimney. I supposed that she was right; in the end, it didn’t matter – but it could have. “Looking back in hindsight, Sara, do you think you should have realized that?”

She actually bit her insubstantial, virtual lip at that question. “Honestly? Yes, I suppose I should have. I ran a few hundred simulations of what would happen if you absorbed the massive influx of qi from the false moon, checking your meridians and spiral to make sure they could handle the load.

“In all of those, I forgot to take the density of your liquid qi into account, though. If you still had vaporous qi, the worst thing that would have happened is that the energy would have slipped your grasp and left your body through your meridians. You could have just tried again and again until you got it right. With your liquid qi, though – failure became much more dangerous.”

I nodded my head. “So, how do we keep something like this from happening again?” I asked.

“Well, it’s likely that it’ll be a long time before you’re ready to try for the sky ranks, John…”

“Not what I’m talking about.” I opened my eyes and looked directly at her. “This was a miscalculation. They happen to the best of us sometimes. Hell, I can think of a dozen times when my assumptions or incomplete information bit me on the ass, Sara. However, when they happen, you have to learn from them, figure out ways to keep them from happening again. Otherwise, you’ll keeping fucking up until eventually, you get into a mess you can’t get out of.

“So, how do we keep it from happening again?”

Sara nodded in acquiescence. “You’re right. I made too many assumptions, focused my attention on too narrow a set of parameters. I should have looked at your entire system, not just the parts of it I assumed would be affected. I’ll do better next time.”

“That’s the best any of us can do,” I smiled at her. “Now, what does all this mean? What’s this about a qi body? Are my bones and muscles made of solid qi, now, instead of flesh and blood?”

She laughed. “No, nothing like that. I suppose that’s possible, but you’d need to be a lot higher rank before it happened. Probably at least the Spirit rank, if not Heavenly. What happened is that your celestial qi soaked into your body, permeating every cell and infusing your being with that energy. That makes your body much better at absorbing and cycling that qi, now. Go ahead and try it and see what I mean.”

The sun was over the horizon now; I could feel it hanging in the sky, bathing me in more celestial qi. I let it soak into me and was shocked at how quickly the power swirled into my body. I actively drew on it, and the energy flooded my meridians, swirling quickly down into my cultivation spiral. I watched as my qi pool slowly refilled, and as I looked at my status, I did a bit of a double take.

Active Professions:

Inquisitor (Hidden)

Current XP: 137/2,400 Current Level: 2

Pugilist

Current XP: 900/1,600 Current Level: 4

Celestial Guardian

Current XP: 2,380/4,700 Current Level: 3

Mental Stats

Reason: 17 Intuition: 17 Perception: 17 Charm: 6

Physical Stats

Prowess: 17 Vigor: 14 Celerity: 17 Skill: 15

Special Stats

Qi Pool: 4/645 (+2.1/s x2) Qi Type: Celestial

Qi Pool: 40/109 (+0.8/s) Qi Type: Wood

Cultivation Rank: Water

“Holy shit, my qi pool shot up!” I exclaimed. “Was that just from going up to Water rank?”

“And from your improved stats. However, I should warn you, your techniques have gotten more expensive, too. They’ve all basically doubled in cost, although they’ve probably also more than doubled in effectiveness.”

I frowned and called up my Forest of Thorns ability, causing thorns to grow from my fist. Sure enough, my wood qi pool dropped by nine points rather than five, and I sighed as I realized that I was going to have to actively cultivate my wood qi a lot more if I wanted to be able to use it effectively.

I stayed on the roof, soaking up the sun’s rays and letting my celestial qi pool slowly refill over the course of around three minutes. I tried to cultivate my wood qi after that, but it refilled incredibly slowly; I guessed that the stone building I sat on was probably hampering it. After ten minutes, I’d only increased the pool by twenty-five points. I sighed and gave up, moving back to the edge of the roof and preparing to use my spider grip technique to head back down.

I stopped and stared in amazement at what I saw in the early morning light. I’d been right in my guess last night; the stone path leading from the gate to the building was bordered by some sort of hedges to each side. What I hadn’t realized was that beyond those hedges, the rest of the Amber Teardrop’s grounds was basically just one, vast garden. Tall, green trees laden with various fruits grew in neat rows; flowers of every color and shape waved in a slight breeze; lines of green plants stretched out in every direction.

After a moment’s consideration, I guessed it made sense. If the society was a bunch of herbalists who called themselves physicians, they’d need the ingredients to make their medicines. I was willing to bet that growing the plants was cheaper in the long run than buying them, and maintaining the grounds probably helped with some kind of gardening skill. Even better, I was certain that all those plants probably generated a ton of wood qi. I grinned and shimmied down the wall to the ground. I made my way over to the trees, being careful to walk along the paths that wound through the gardens so as to avoid damaging anything, then sat down beneath their branches and started cultivating again.

My hunch was right. Wood qi flowed into me, much faster than it had on the rooftop. I watched my pool rise and did some quick mental math; sitting in the garden seemed to boost my qi regeneration by about 25% over my normal max. With that, it only took a minute for me to completely refill my secondary spiral with wood qi. When that was done, I sat quietly, thinking through my reconnaissance trip into the School of Earthly Fires.

The effort had been a successful one, at least in part. I’d discovered exactly what the school was doing that threw off the world’s balance, and that information was a huge step forward on my quest. Somehow, implanting the beast cores in people was creating an imbalance, which made my mission in this world a lot simpler and more straightforward. I had to stop the school from experimenting further somehow. Killing Banisher certainly helped, but unfortunately, the job wasn’t done.

The problem was that I wasn’t trying to stop a person. That would be easy; now that I knew about this Sleep without Dreams stuff, I could just slip it into their coffee or tea or whatever, wait until they were unconscious and not cultivating, and stick a knife in their heart. Simple enough to do, and the problem is solved. Sadly, what I had to do was stop the spread of information. To do that, I had to find anyone who knew about that information, kill them, and then destroy the information itself. That might be harder than I thought; every hour that passed, Strider could be sharing the knowledge she’d taken with more people.

Knowledge could be like a disease, really. If it wasn’t very tightly controlled and quarantined, it tended to spread exponentially swiftly. One person shares the info to two, and those tell two more, and so on until the information was completely disseminated, and everyone knew some version of it, no matter how distorted or inaccurate that version might be. In fact, in my experience, the more misleading the facts being spread became, the faster they tended to spread.

That might explain why what these people were doing was a threat to this world’s balance, as I thought about it. What if the procedure worked well enough that other groups tried to mimic it? Would they get it right? Or would they create qi-poisoning monsters? What if someone did work out how to spread the affliction through that qi poisoning? How long would it take for this entire city to turn into a horde of bestial, twisted cultivators?

And once that happened, it would spread, just like a disease. People would leave this city and head to other ones, where they’d spread the infection. If there was no defense, no vaccine, no medicine to cure it, it would run rampant across the entire world eventually, until every person in Kuan was corrupted and the nature of the world would change. I took a deep breath as I imagined that worst-case scenario. If even some of that was true, I understood at last why I’d been sent here.

So, what could I do about it? The obvious next step was to find Strider and kidnap her, force her to tell me who she’d passed the information to, and then kill her and them. Of course, that solution had a problem or two. To be accurate, the solution was riddled with flaws. I assumed Strider went into the Inner City; how did I get in? Would my Disguise skill be good enough to get through whatever defenses were in place? I had a feeling it wouldn’t; if people could just sneak past, then half the city would probably be living up there. Once I was in, how did I find the Inner School of Earthly Fires? Would it be as easy to sneak into it? Even if I could, what would I do then?

The simple fact was, neither Jing nor I were very well-suited for combat in a place that was devoted to metal and fire qi. Down in the depths, we were both cut off from the source of our cultivation, and while it didn’t weaken me being down there, it would weaken Jing. She’d be fairly close to helpless in a place where everyone we met was probably stronger than us. As far as I could tell, the Outer School held circles six through ten; that meant that Strider, a practitioner of the Fifth Circle, was among the weakest of the people in the Inner School. The last time we’d met, she’d handed me my ass without even trying. While I’d gotten stronger since then, I doubted my improved skills and stats would let me do much more than survive a bit longer against her.

I sighed in frustration. As I saw it, I had two choices. My first was to train hard and get to the point where I could go into the Inner City and deal with the Earthly Fires school. That was probably possible, in all honesty. From what I’d seen, I’d advanced in my cultivation by leaps and bounds compared to most people. I didn’t think that Jing was at the Water rank already, and she’d been at this most of her life. Wim, Jing’s father, seemed to expect that I’d take months at minimum to clear out my meridians enough to open even one. I was pretty sure I knew the source of that rapid progress, of course…

“Yes, John, I’ve been helping with that,” Sara answered my unasked question. “That’s part of the reason Inquisitors are given a SARA, in fact. I’m linked to every part of your body and mind; that lets me alter them both in small ways to ensure that you grow swiftly on any new world.”

I frowned in concern at those words. Sara could alter my mind? I wasn’t sure I was okay with that.

“Well, I have to be able to in order to help you grow. As your mental stats go up, I have to make minor adjustments so that your intellect and intuition keep up with them. I have to improve your nervous system to handle the increased sensory input and feedback you receive; I need to alter your reflexes so that your improved musculature doesn’t injure you or someone else.”

“Wait, if you can do all that, then why don’t you just jack me up now? Can’t you crank my stats up to where I can walk into the Inner School, kick ass, and take names?”

“No, I’m sorry. I wish I could, but all these alterations take energy – quite a lot of it, really. That’s what XP really is, remember? Every time you kill something, I’m stealing a bit of its energy and hoarding it until I have enough to make the changes you need when leveling up your profession. That’s why it’s so easy to level up something like Pugilist; I only need to improve you a little bit to make you better in that profession, so I don’t need a lot of energy. It takes a ton of power to help you grow as an Inquisitor, though, so you need way more XP to level that profession.”

I didn’t respond, but I understood. I didn’t like the idea, but I saw the necessity of it. There wouldn’t be much point to improving my Reason stat, for example, if my ability to reason didn’t improve with it. If I improved my speed but not my brain’s ability to control my limbs, I’d be the fastest clumsy guy anyone ever saw. I was still uncomfortable with the concept, but I couldn’t see any other way for Sara to help me grow.

“So, with that being the case, how long do you think it would take me to rank up and level up enough to be able to handle the Inner School?”

Sara’s voice was hesitant as she spoke. “I can’t give you more than an educated guess, John. I don’t know anything about the people in the school. I can compare the difference in power levels between Banisher of Waves and Strider of the Mountain and extrapolate, but it won’t be very accurate.”

“Understood. Assuming I went out of the city and just spent every waking moment hunting and killing the strongest beasts I could find, how long do you think I would need?”

“Well, projecting a similar power jump from circle to circle and assuming that you only fought beasts of your rank or one higher…” She paused. “Sixty-three years, one-hundred-nineteen days. Approximately.”

I sat in stunned silence for at least ten seconds. Well, that plan was out. In sixty-four years, whatever was happening on this world would be over and done with. That left only one other option, and there was nothing I could do about that for a while. I stayed in the garden, alternating between cultivating my wood qi and my celestial qi, practicing using my newly empowered techniques, and getting a feel for how my new body worked with some mock-combat drills.

My qi body was definitely faster and smoother than my metal-ranked one had been, but it was also harder to control at first. I tended to move too quickly, step and reach too far, and put too much power behind each movement. I stumbled frequently and even fell a few times when my feet moved faster than I was expecting, or a strike had enough force to actually carry me forward a foot or more with it. It took a few hours to really start getting a handle on it, but eventually, I started to feel comfortable in my own body again.

“Most impressive, Xu Xing,” a voice spoke from behind me. Startled, I whirled reflexively about, gathering qi into my hands and preparing to launch myself at whoever had snuck up on me. When I saw who stood there, though, I lowered my hands and forced myself to relax.

“Dancer-in-Flames,” I sighed, bowing my head slightly. “You surprised me.”

“So I see,” the woman laughed easily. She stood about twenty feet from me, wearing an amber robe with an elaborate pattern of red teardrops dyed or sewn onto it. I hadn’t been particularly engrossed in my training, but I hadn’t heard her approach at all. I had no idea how she did it, but it reminded me that however far I thought I’d come, I still had a ridiculously long way to go.

“You have reached the Water rank of cultivation already,” she observed, looking me up and down.

“How could you tell?” I asked curiously. Knowing that might be useful if I needed to hide my cultivation or look weaker than I was.

“I can feel the qi filling your body, Xu Xing. Anyone with knowledge of cultivation would understand immediately what that means.” She shook her head. “Once again, I am surprised by your rapid growth and advancement. You should not have been prepared for this step for years. Even my daughter is merely nearing that stage.” I didn’t know what to say in reply to that; no answer I could think of would really explain how I jumped years of practice, so I said nothing.

“I have examined the woman you brought to the Amber Teardrop Society,” Dif said after a few moments, probably realizing that I wasn’t going to explain how I’d reached my new rank so quickly. “She is a student at the School of Earthly Fires, correct?” I nodded, and the old woman grimaced.

“I should instead say that she was a student there. She could not return in the condition she is in. Xu Xing, do you know what was done to her?”

“Yeah, I do,” I said. I quickly explained what Banisher had said, how he’d given her a specially infused and prepared beast core to replace her cultivation spiral, and how that allowed her to cultivate the way a beast does, using corrupted qi without ill effect. She listened silently, asking no questions, but her face grew grave as she listened, and I could see anger and disgust in her eyes.

“This – this is an abomination,” she said when I finally finished.

“Can we fix it?” I asked. “She hasn’t cultivated yet. I was thinking that if we removed the beast core, she could rebuild her spiral without any harm done.”

The woman shook her head. “She has two fully opened meridians, Xu Xing, and an active dantian. If I remove the beast core, she will simply flood her dantian with corrupted qi. It might take her weeks to rebuild a cultivation spiral, and by then, she will certainly be one of the cursed, those whose spirits are inextricably bound to the mortal world through corruption and who are no longer reborn on the Wheel.”

She took a deep breath. “I have two choices, Xu Xing. The first is to simply kill her. In her current condition, that might be granting her a favor. She will return to the Wheel for rebirth, her spirit clean and untainted. I do not wish to do this, but it may be the best choice.

“My other option is to awaken her. Should I wake her now, she will begin absorbing corrupted qi and cycling it through her meridians without the purifying filter of cultivation. I do not believe that she will have a choice in the matter. That qi will fill her dantian and seep into her body. She will likely grow strong quickly, but her spirit will gain corruption just as quickly. Within weeks, she will become one of the cursed, although she will be a cursed who is able to cultivate, a true oddity.”

She hesitated. “I know what I would wish to do, but she is not in my care. You have taken charge of her, so the decision must be yours. What would you have me do?”

I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead. I didn’t really want to have gone through all the trouble of saving her just to put her out of her misery while she slept. Still, that seemed like the better option. Anything else would lead to her becoming one of the cursed, and Jing was pretty clear that any cultivator would rather die than become one of the cursed.

Of course, that couldn’t be true, because there had been an entire camp of them, hadn’t there? Surely, they’d all had the opportunity to end their lives at some point before the corruption fully took hold of them. None of them had, which meant they hadn’t wanted to die. Did I want to kill Bai Ren on Jing’s word, when I had evidence that she might have been wrong?

I shook my head. “The choice isn’t mine,” I said firmly. “It’s not my life, Dancer-in-Flames. It’s hers, and she should have the choice. Please wake her up so we can explain what happened and let her decide if she wants to live as a cursed or die as a practitioner.”

The woman nodded. “A fair decision.” Her expression grew flinty, and her eyes turned hard as agates. “You say that this Strider of the Mountain was at the cursed camp, Xu Xing? And that she has the knowledge of this process?”

I nodded. “Yes, to both. I saw Banisher of Waves put them into a crystal and give them to her.”

“Then action must be taken to stop them,” she said firmly. “And it must be done at once. It occurs to me that this technique might be a way to restore cultivation to the cursed. The beast core could forcibly clear their clogged meridians, and it would allow them to cycle qi out of their dantians.

“If this is true, then the technique might allow them to turn every cursed into one of these – monstrosities. They would have an army of corrupted practitioners, all able to poison true cultivators with but a touch…” She fell silent for long moments, and I took the opportunity to speak.

“I’m hoping to stop them,” I said gamely. “However, there’s no way I can do it alone. I don’t even know how to get into the Inner City, much less into their school there. And if I did, I don’t think there’s much I could do against the practitioners I’d meet.”

She smiled grimly at me. “You are correct, Xu Xing. You would not be able to survive against the Fire and Spirit ranked practitioners you would find in the Inner School of Earthly Fires. Nor would my daughter; at her current rank, she would have difficulty even walking into the Inner City.”

“Just walking into it? Why?”

“The Inner City is sealed for a purpose, Xu Xing, and it is not to keep out those of lesser stature. Or, rather, it is for that purpose, but not for the reasons that most believe. The spires of the Inner City draw qi to them and concentrate it; the air around them seethes with energy. That energy can be dangerous or deadly to one whose cultivation cannot handle it. Should a non-practitioner even enter the Inner City, they would likely die from qi poisoning in minutes. A Wood-ranked practitioner might last for days, but their cultivation spiral might be damaged or even destroyed by the excess. Should my daughter enter, she would not perish, but she would find it difficult to function beneath the pressure of so much qi.”

“What about me?”

“Typically, one must be Water-ranked simply to enter the Inner City, and even then, it is uncomfortable. However…” She peered at me closely. “Your qi seems particularly dense, Xu Xing. Have you managed to form liquid qi?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “I worked it out when I was fighting the Water-ranked statues in the school.”

She shook her head, her face displaying a mixture of disbelief and rue. “Typically, compressing your qi into viscous form is a task one must complete to reach the Sky ranks. Truly liquid qi is the province of those seeking Fire rank in cultivation. And you somehow managed it at the Metal rank?” Again, there wasn’t much I could say to that, so I didn’t say anything, and again, it seemed that she was content to change the subject.

“Let us go awaken your newest ward, Xu Xing, and present her with her choices.” The woman sighed. “I fear she will be unhappy with all of them.”

Unhappy was a bit of an understatement. Dif gave the sleeping woman a small, bright pink pill, and within moments, she began to stir. She coughed once, groaned repeatedly, and her eyes blinked slowly open. As she took in her surroundings, her face grew panicked, and she bolt upright in the bed.

“Where am I?” she asked, her fear evident. “Who are you? Where is Banisher of Waves?”

“Be calm, student of the School of Earthly Fires,” Dif said soothingly. “You are within the Outer Hall of the Amber Teardrop Society. I am Dancer-in-Flames. What is your name?”

“B-Bai Ren,” the woman said after a moment. “Wait – the Amber Teardrop Society? Was I gravely wounded? Why did my teacher not restore me?” She frowned and glanced down at herself, her fearful expression becoming plainly terrified. “Something is wrong…what has happened to me?”

“You were placed in a dreamless sleep, Bai Ren,” Dif replied calmly. “There is much I must explain, but to hear it, you will need to remain calm. Can you do this?”

The student’s eyes were wide, her pale skin ghostly, and for a moment, she simply stared down at her chest in silence. She slowly raised her head and nodded once.

“Excellent.” Dif held out a hand toward me. “The tale begins with this young man, Xu Xing, who crept into your school last night…”

Bai listened in shock and amazement as Dif explained everything I’d told her. I stayed quiet; I had a feeling that the story would be easier to accept from the older woman. Bai glanced at me occasionally as Dif told her of what I’d discovered, and she clutched her stomach, her face pale as she learned that her spiral was now a beast core.

“Then – I am a beast?” she said softly at the end of the tale.

“That is unclear,” Dif said gently. “You have a beast’s cultivation, and you must understand what that means.”

“I can feel it in me. It feels like my spiral, only – wrong. My qi flows through it too easily, and I can sense the corruption seeping into my dantian.” She blinked rapidly, and tears descended from her cheeks. “Am I one of the cursed, then?”

“It is likely that you will become so, young one, yes,” Dif nodded. “Your cultivation will likely grow swiftly powerful, as you no longer have the need to purify your qi, but it is certain that in time, that corruption will infuse your spirit. It will also render your touch deadly to weaker cultivators.”

Bai bowed her head and wept openly, pressing her hands to her face. I just stood there, awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Fortunately, it seemed that Dif had a far better bedside manner; she reached out and embraced the young woman, holding her until the storm of weeping subsided. Dif let her go, and the young woman sniffed and wiped her face on the tattered ruins of her robe.

“I do not wish to become one of the cursed,” she said softly. “Nor do I wish to live as a beast. What can be done?”

“I can aid you on your return to the Wheel,” Dif said simply, holding up a jet-black pill. “This is Slumbering Death. When you take it, you will fall asleep and never awaken. It is painless and swift, the most merciful death any could ask for.” She held out the pill, and Bai took it slowly. She stared at it hesitantly, her eyes blank and unseeing.

“You, Xu Xing,” she said after a moment, not looking directly at me. “You entered my former school once. You slew my former teacher as punishment for his madness.” She turned her gaze back toward me. “Do you intend to punish those who allowed him to do this to me?”

“Yes,” I said firmly. “I’m going to need some help, though.” I looked at Dif, and the woman inclined her head.

“The Amber Teardrop Society will aid you, Xu Xing,” she promised. “I am certain that the School of the Brilliant Desert will, as well, and both I and my husband will work to bring others into this battle. The School of Earthly Fires will pay for this atrocity, do not fear.”

Bai nodded. “I wish to see that,” she said. “I wish to take what was done to me – to take it and use it against those who inflicted it upon me.” She slipped the pill into a pocket of her robe. “When my vengeance is completed, then I will take your pill, honored master of the Amber Teardrop Society, and I will be reborn into a body that is once again whole and pure.”

“It will take time, Bai Ren,” Dif cautioned the woman. “It may be days or even weeks before our efforts are in place and prepared. During that time, you will continue to draw in corrupted qi.”

“But I will also grow stronger, will I not?” she asked.

“Yes. Likely, you will reach the Metal rank in mere days at the rate you are currently drawing qi. Should you do nothing but cultivate and train, you might be as strong as Water rank within weeks.”

“Then I will train, and I will prepare,” she said. “Xu Xing, you have saved me from dishonor and likely from becoming one of the cursed. I owe you not only my life but my place on the Wheel.” She bowed her head. “I wish to die in your service as repayment, if you will have me.”

I looked at the woman thoughtfully. I remembered her fighting at the school; she wasn’t really all that skilled, but she had determination, and that counted for a lot. Plus, I had a feeling that even if I said no, she’d be joining me anyway. I’d probably have to hurt or kill her to stop her, and if I was going to do that, then I might as well have just ended her back beneath the school.

“Okay,” I said at last. “You’re in.” I glanced at Dif. “Can you tell if she’s getting close to becoming a cursed?”

“I can, yes. Indeed, any skilled physician should be able to do so.”

“Can you arrange it so she can get looked at each day to make sure she’s okay?”

“Of course, Xu Xing. I would not deny any their place on the Wheel.”

“Then Bai Ren, you can join me, but you’ll be getting examined daily. If it looks like you’re about to become cursed, then you’ll need to decide what’s more important to you: vengeance or the Wheel.”

“Thank you, master,” she said, bowing her head low to me. “Where will I stay?”

“We’ve got rooms in a travel house,” I said. “You can stay with Jing, I’m sure.”

“You must also return to the Society of the Amber Teardrop daily, Xu Xing,” Dif told me in a tone that didn’t brook argument.

“Me? Why?”

“I am certain that my daughter will need to spend her time in training and cultivation. If she wishes to join you when you enter the Inner City, she will need to push into the Water ranks, and that will require her to do nothing but cultivate and train under my husband’s tutelage.”

“Okay,” I nodded. “But what does that have to do with me?”

“She will not be the only one training,” the woman laughed. “While Jing and Bai Ren master their cultivation, you will be learning from me. I will teach you the art of medicine, Xu Xing – and you will find that I am not an easy master.”