PtM Book 16 - Chapter 36: Goals

1/3 this week.

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The approval of the Azure Tempest Sect kept the Soaring Blade Sect off Cha Ming’s back and allowed him to continue expanding the Clear Sky Conglomerate. What followed was a peaceful year. Too peaceful, in fact.

There were no pirates, and sect infighting was at an all-time low. Even the number of fiends that were spawning had decreased significantly.

Talk of a fiend outbreak occurring in the near future became increasingly common. The data certainly indicated that while this ran counter to the overall trend, a sharp decrease in fiend activity was typically followed by an explosion shortly after.

Yet this was not the cause of Cha Ming’s uneasy feeling. Fiend outbreaks were expected, after all, though there was no predicting their severity. No, what bothered him was the quiet that followed him from the Chasewind Plane to the Heartforge Realm. It was the lull in each discussion that spoke to something hidden.

Cha Ming was aware of hidden undercurrents, but he had no desire to take part in any competition. His main preoccupation was preparing for the fiend outbreak, and he did so by strengthening his Clear Sky Centers and focusing on his personal training.

Thanks to the rewards they’d received for their fiend-hunting efforts, the sects were now better equipped than ever. Core-formation cultivators were much more numerous than before, and this had led to a small increase in transcendent cultivators.

These were all good things, yet Cha Ming still felt it wasn’t enough. He continued with his bitter training in the Heartforge Realm when his duties didn’t require his presence on the Chasewind Plane.

A year had passed since he’d successfully fused his divinity, qi, and spiritual energy to thirty percent completion. Even with time acceleration, it had taken him this long to get used to the changes to his internal energies and bring his performance back up to standard.

Currently, his efforts were focused on incorporating higher-quality energy into the structure of his body and into his paintings and techniques to improve his overall strength.

He’d practiced many other things in that single year. That included practicing and refining Azure Tempest Descends, Azure Wind Scar, and Azure Tempest Wings.

The first two were no longer separate paintings, and he kept several skeleton copies of various sizes of azure tempest paintings in the Clear Sky World. If he wanted to create an Azure Wind Scar, he simply brought out two paintings at once and had them spin in opposite directions.

As for Azure Tempest Wings, he still only had that single pair. It had taken him a lot of trial and error to master their usage—if it could be called that. The addition of the technique to his repertoire greatly increased his travel speed, whether that speed was used to fly between sects and cities or to escape unfavorable combat situations.

It was now the end of the sixth year. Cha Ming had saved up almost four million points. He also had a fortune in transcendent-grade resources from all the trade he’d been conducting, as well as proceeds from the teleportation network that now spanned his entire territory.

Alas, all this was only enough to generate one extra immortal crystal. The resources he required to advance were unimaginably large, to the extent that he’d soon need to start pillaging entire worlds to make it happen.

Cha Ming had no idea how he was going to break through to the initial-law-stitching realm before the end of the Heartforge Trials. What he did know was that if he didn’t, he might not live long enough to see the end of them. In a few decades at most, the other Invited would start breaking through to the early-law-stitching realm, which would allow them to overpower just about any cultivator on the Chasewind Plane.

Six years in the Heartforge Realm was worthy of celebrating, so Huxian had gathered all his friends at his residence for a big meal. They’d finished eating and were currently talking about whatever came to mind. They specifically avoided talking about current events on the Chasewind Plane. Instead, they focused on what everyone was going to do with all these points that were piling up.

“Bloodline enhancements,” Jadefall said without hesitation. “Armor enhancements. Weapon enhancements.”

“Defensive equipment,” Wu said. “One can never enough defensive equipment.”

“I usually buy new things and new machines and tinker with them,” Huxian said. “But I think the best thing for me to get would be an immortal-grade cultivation technique.”

“I think that’s everyone’s main target,” Wei Longshen said. “I can’t think of anywhere else we’d find one.”

Cha Ming shifted uncomfortably. As far as he knew, most people here had not cultivated any immortal-grade techniques. He, on the other hand, had cultivated no less than four. All of them had basically been handed to him on a silver platter.

The Seventy-Two Earthly Transformations Technique was not technically an immortal-grade technique, but it was a half step in and could take someone halfway to full godhood. Apparently, it was known as the best disguise technique in the immortal realms and was therefore stored inside the library’s legendary sixteenth floor.

Thirty-Six Heavenly Transformations, on the other hand, was a full immortal-grade technique. Savage Deity Battle Arts was a divine-class battle art, and Sun Wukong had straight-up given it to him. It was the same for the Divine Law Spirit-Stitching Scripture. All of these things would allow him to achieve true divinity and immortality.

“One has to wonder if we’ll ever get enough points,” Xing Tianlong said grumpily. “We’re not all swimming in it like Petros is.”

“Hey, I worked hard to set up the Hunter’s Guild in my protectorate,” Petros said. “And it’s not my fault you people were terrible at negotiating your initial rewards systems. If you’d spent time building a guild like I did, you’d know how to limit point rewards and maximize your profits.”

“How much does an immortal technique even cost?” Cha Ming asked. “I get it that nobody can know for sure, as it depends on comprehension, but there must be some estimates.” It was a variant of the question “How long is a piece of string?”

“I paid someone once to divine the answer,” Wei Longshen said. “His assessment was encouraging.” He remained silent, however, when people asked him for details.

“Well? Are you just going to keep it all to yourself?” Xing Tianlong asked.

Cha Ming laughed and tossed over his invitation medallion. “Here’s ten thousand points, Longshen.”

The others, realizing that they were asking him to share his hard-earned information for nothing, did the same.

Wei Longshen put away his invitation medallion, then proceeded to explain. “Most of it comes down to compatibility, so the results vary greatly. I therefore had a diviner calculate how much time it would take the average Invited to learn an immortal technique, assuming ninety percent compatibility with the technique. I also asked him to calculate based on one’s overall ranking in the body, law, and soul trials respectively. It turns out that to comprehend an immortal technique after clearing only the violet trials, it could take anywhere between 100 million and a billion points.”

“That’s a huge range,” Xing Tianlong said. “And one would need to be very lucky to obtain that many points in the first place. Yes, the fiend attacks are increasing in frequency, so our yearly points are increasing, but everyone has a lot of expenditures.”

“I have been told that everyone in the Heartforge Realm has the potential to clear the violet trials for their respective specialties,” Wei Longshen continued. “It’s apparently a prerequisite to being invited.”

“Just tell it to us straight,” Jadefall said.

Wei Longshen cleared his throat before continuing. “Out of the five thousand Invited, around twenty percent should be able to clear at least one violet-gold trial. As for the ninth trial obelisks, known as Heartforge Trial Obelisks, only a small number of people will be able to clear them.

“For those who’ve cleared an eighth-level trial, the range shrinks to ninety to two hundred million points. For those who’ve cleared two trials, it’s eighty to a hundred fifty million points. Three trials, seventy to a hundred million points. As for those rare people who’ve cleared one of the Heartforge Trails, it still takes them at least fifty million points to learn an immortal-grade technique.”

Petros grimaced. “That’s a lot of points. That means that most people will only be able to afford one.”

“That sounds about right,” Cha Ming said. All eyes turned his way. “What? I’ve only ever learned a single immortal technique without having it been transmitted directly into my brain, but I have some relatable experience.”

“Well?” Xing Tianlong said. “Spit it out.”

Cha Ming looked to the side and drank from his own teacup, pretending as if he hadn’t heard them. All those at the table grumbled and tossed him their medallions. He accepted a small transfer before speaking. “As most of you know, I practiced an immortal-class ability called the Divine Law Spirit-Stitching Scripture. My soul was injured, which probably made it harder to learn, but I had the help of my All-Heaven’s Eye, so things should balance out. Do you know how long it took me to learn this technique?”

“It’s the first time I’ve heard of anyone learning one,” Petros said. “Please enlighten us.”

Cha Ming held up a pair of fingers. “Two time-accelerated years. And cultivating it took me three time-accelerated years.”

Petros frowned. “Truly? You spent an entire five years in isolation to learn a single technique?”

“Yes,” Cha Ming said. “Which is why those numbers make sense to me. Admittedly, it was a body, law, and soul-fusion technique, and I haven’t cleared any soul trials. But I’d cleared the seventh trial for body and the sixth trial for law.

“If we consider that most people can safely manage fivefold time acceleration, that’s a little under five standard months. Since the hourly costs double for every floor in the library, that’s 786,432 points per day to study such a technique. If you study such a technique for 150 days, that’s a hundred twenty million points, not counting any potential penalties.”

“That’s a lot of time,” Xing Tianlong said. “Too much time. I can think of many other things I’d rather do.”

“But it’s time we’d all spend, I think,” Wei Longshen said. “Without an immortal-grade technique, our odds of achieving immortality are slim, but with one… our odds improve substantially, and that’s not even mentioning how powerful these techniques are compared to their transcendent alternatives.”

The mood turned sour after that. No one had any appetite for dessert, much to Huxian’s chagrin. But it was a party, and people moved on. The gathering continued late into the evening.

At one point, they had all split into their own small groups. Cha Ming took a customary seat alone near the fireplace, and Petros joined him as he usually did and simply sat there, looking at the flames.

Petros’s mood was much improved since entering the Heartforge Realm. He’d broken through his core’s restraints and had gained his own domain. He could now be considered an independent Daoist, and a very powerful one, at that.

Yet there was still something troubling the archer. It was a bone-deep problem he couldn’t escape from. “Have you figured it out yet?” Cha Ming asked him.

Petros nodded. “I have a solution. An expensive one, but it should work.” He did not expand on the topic, and Cha Ming didn’t press. He had his own must-have rewards. In his case, it was an awakening, which he would use on the Clear Sky Brush. An awakening, much like an immortal technique, would cost him fifty million points.

“It’s a divine blood inheritance,” Petros finally said. “I have divinity dispersed throughout my body. It’s what makes it so strong despite my not being a demigod. But that divinity belongs to Jezeriah.

“I was speaking to Godking Heavenbind, and he said that breaking her control would require a very strong bloodline inheritance. Not only would it allow me to force out Jezeriah’s influence, I could also potentially absorb and fuse with the divinity she infused into my flesh and blood.”

“You seem a little torn,” Cha Ming said.

“That’s because even if everything goes perfectly, there’s a fifty percent chance of death,” Petros said. “If it was before, I’d risk it in a heartbeat, but now that I’m partially free of Jezeriah’s influence… Well, let’s just say there’s nothing stopping me from cultivating only my qi and soul. There’s no need for me to gamble my life for power.”

“I can understand your hesitation,” Cha Ming said. “Death is frightening thing no matter how you approach it.”

“It’s not the fact that I could die that’s frightening, Clear Sky,” Petros said. “It’s the fact that I’m highly considering it. What does that say about me? Am I a power-hungry person? Is excellence that important to me? If so, why?” He shook his head. “I have so many questions, and until I answer them, I’ll have no idea who I am and what I’m fighting for. I’m used to knowing what my goals are, Clear Sky. Not knowing my destination—it’s a very strange feeling.”

Cha Ming could empathize. He, too, was unsure about his current motives. He knew that he needed to accompany Huxian to the immortal realms, but that was all.

In the beginning, he’d concerned himself with survival and nothing else. Upon arriving in the Heartforge Realm, his heart had melted, and he’d begun trying to sift through his emotions and the few memories that were available to him.

Yu Wen… Yu Wen was a part of it. But as his memory of her returned, so did his grief. From context, he understood that he had only been exposed to a small part of it.

Yu Wen was gone. He understood that. Moreover, she didn’t want him looking for her.

Aside from Huxian’s needs, he had no idea why he would even want to ascend. Because even if he found her, she wouldn’t be her.

To not know what your goals in life were… it was a frightening thing to those on the road to immortality.

Neither of them said anything for the rest of the night. They remained in their own bitter bubble and waited for the other guests to trickle out. Eventually, Petros departed, and only Huxian remained.

The fox plopped himself in a seat by the fireplace. “Oof. I’m spent.”

“Nice party as always,” Cha Ming said.

“It would have been better if you didn’t spoil everyone’s appetite for pie,” Huxian said. “Also, it was nearly a disaster.”

Cha Ming arched an eyebrow. “What do you mean a disaster?”

“Because of the roast fish,” Huxian explained. “I accidentally dropped a ton of spice on it. I was afraid it might be toxic.”

Cha Ming couldn’t help but laugh. “You have a way with people, my friend. No matter how terrible they’re feeling, you can always get a laugh out of them.”

Huxian grinned. “It’s all about knowing your audience.”

“Why do you do it, Huxian?” Cha Ming asked. Seeing his confusion, he clarified. “These parties. All the networking. I know part of it is to help me, and I’m thankful for that, but that can’t be the only reason.”

Huxian made a face. “I think about that sometimes. I wonder why I bother.”

“Is it because you miss your friends?” Cha Ming asked.

Huxian nodded. “In part. I miss their rowdiness, and these get-togethers sometimes brings out the chaos that I’m used to. But beyond that… well, I guess it comes down to the age-old question: Why bother living when you could just… not?”

Cha Ming shivered as he recalled some of his darker moments over the past decade and a half where he’d asked himself that very same question. “What’s the answer, in your opinion?”

“I guess I just want to live,” Huxian said. “Not survive. Live.I don’t cultivate to prolong my life, and neither do I eat to prolong my life. I do it to live. And to live, I need to know myself. That’s why I have these parties. That’s why I make friends. Every time I have a conversation, every time I make a joke, I discover a piece of who I am.

“I like making friends. I like making people laugh. I also like tricking people and stealing their things. Because every time I do these things, I get one step closer to living. Also, I like food, and food is tastier when eaten with other people.”

Cha Ming chuckled. “That first part sounded downright wise, Huxian. The second part… not so much.”

“I think I found that second half in a fortune cookie,” Huxian said. “And if there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s that you can’t trust fortune cookies. Never trust them, Cha Ming. Never.”

What remained of the evening passed by peacefully. Cha Ming helped Huxian clean up before heading over to his own residence, where he awaited the formation of his seventh immortal jade. As he waited, he watched the immortal formation spin around and around, bringing energy back upon itself in a self-sufficient circle.

The immortal jade appeared at dawn. It was light green and beautiful, and another step toward Cha Ming’s eventual goal of stepping into the law-stitching realm.

Yet he did not get to admire it for long, because shortly after, he received about a dozen notifications all at once.

Fiends were attacking the Chasewind Plane. And many more were on the way.