What do you mean I'm a cultivator?-Chapter 13

Jiang Cheng rose early, the small satchel sitting prepared on his bed. He'd checked its contents multiple times the night before, the fifteen satiation pills in their cloth pouch, the water purification token, a small knife he'd discovered tucked in one of the satchel's inner pockets, along with a handful of matches wrapped in waxed paper. The sect had provided more than he'd initially realized, small necessities that marked the difference between preparation and negligence.

He secured the satchel across his back, adjusting the straps until it sat comfortably against his spine. The sword, his temporary companion for the journey hung at his hip in a plain scabbard, its weight unfamiliar yet reassuring.

With a final glance around his dingy cabin, he departed, heading toward the grand staircase that would take him beyond the sect's immediate influence.

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The staircase stretched before him like a stone river flowing down the mountain. From the plateau, Jiang could see the steps disappearing into the distance, winding through occasional outcroppings and stands of sparse trees before vanishing into the morning mist that clung to the mountain's lower reaches.

His descent began steadily, each step familiar from years of cleaning yet strange to experience from this new perspective. No longer was he moving up and down with bucket and cloth; now each step carried him further from his old life and closer to whatever awaited him in the outside world.

The sun climbed higher as Jiang continued downward. One hour passed, then another. His legs began to ache despite his cultivation base, the relentless downward motion taxing muscles in ways different from his usual work.

The sheer scale of the mountain became increasingly apparent with each passing quarter hour. What had seemed manageable from above revealing itself as a monument to the sect's isolation from the mundane world.

As he descended, the scenery gradually changed. The stark, windswept rocks of the upper mountain gave way to scattered vegetation, then increasingly dense clusters of hardy mountain shrubs. Occasionally, he passed small platforms built into the mountainside.

Way stations for ascending disciples or perhaps emergency shelters during inclement weather. Each was empty today, the mountain quiet save for the whisper of wind and the distant calls of birds.

Though he did manage to see a female disciple sitting in the four one he passed by, likely resting from a returning mission.

After more than two hours of continuous descent, Jiang Cheng finally reached the base of the stairs. His legs trembled slightly from the exertion, and he paused to catch his breath, turning to look back up at the mountain.

From here, the Falling Star Sect seemed to pierce the very heavens, its white walls barely visible as little more than gleaming specks near the summit. The outer sect buildings, His Shitty cabin, home for years, along many others clustered just below the plateau like barnacles clinging to the hull of a ship.

"No wonder they call us outer disciples." he murmured to himself, understanding now the physical reality behind the designation. The outer sect truly existed at the outer edges of the sect's presence, a buffer between the privileged inner disciples and the mundane world.

Not only that, he really understood the difference. Seems like there were even more disciples than he thought. The near thousand gathered in the Five year assessment? more than likely, a tenth of there true amount, if what he saw was correct.

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The outer sect, seemed to be wrapped around the plateau that had been dug into the mountain, much larger than he thought. Enough about the sect though, Cheng thought, turning his attention back to the task at hand.

The plains surrounding the mountain stretched before him, relatively flat after the steep descent. The landscape was open, with grasses swaying in the breeze and trees standing as solitary sentinels or gathered in small clusters rather than forming proper forests. Perfect terrain for travel. Easy to navigate with clear sightlines in all directions.

Jiang oriented himself using the position of the sun and began walking eastward. The sword at his hip swung with each step, its presence still novel enough to draw his attention. On a sudden impulse born partly of curiosity and partly of practical consideration for the journey ahead, he veered toward a small stand of trees a short distance from his path.

Reaching a modestly sized hardwood tree, Jiang drew the sword with careful deliberation. The blade caught the sunlight, unremarkable iron nonetheless gleaming with purpose in his hands. He had never practiced with weapons before, and certainly never with one assigned specifically to him, never with the intent to use it for practical purposes.

He closed his eyes briefly, focusing inward to gather his Qi. The energy responded sluggishly at first, then more readily as he directed it through his dantian and into his arms. Channeling Qi into objects was not something he practiced regularly. HE didn't have much interest in it, aside from the fact that such things were possible only after mid Qi condensation, when the Qi was thick enough to flow through held objects. He understood the theory well enough.

With careful concentration, he guided the energy into the sword. The blade didn't glow or transform dramatically as he'd read legendary weapons might, but he could feel the metal becoming sharper, more responsive in his hands. The boundary between cultivator and tool blurred slightly as his Qi reinforced the ordinary iron.

Jiang approached the tree and, with a focused swing, cut through a branch about the thickness of his wrist. The sword bit deeper than he expected, and he had to adjust his stance quickly to maintain balance as the branch came free. It was a clean cut, smoother than the blade should have managed on its own merits.

"Not bad for a first timer huh?" he murmured, examining both the severed branch and the sword. The blade showed no signs of damage from the test. Seems just like flesh, Qi enhanced nearly all aspects of the blade, making it both more durable and sharp. perhaps hot too, if he had a fire affinity.

Satisfied, he sheathed the weapon and collected his prize, a length of hardwood approximately as long as his forearm.

Returning to the path, he continued eastward. As he walked, he reached into the satchel and withdrew the small knife he'd discovered during his preparations. It was a simple tool with a wooden handle and a blade perhaps the length of his middle finger, clearly meant for utility rather than combat.

The rhythm of walking settled into his bones as the mountain gradually receded behind him. With practiced hands, he began to work the branch, first stripping away the bark to reveal the pale wood beneath. The knife moved with purpose, Enhanced by Qi, as Cheng had no interest in chipping the blade, and needing to pay for it from his points.

He had no specific goal in mind. This was mere whim rather than anything else, but the activity occupied his hands and a portion of his mind, allowing the rest to remain alert to his surroundings.

Training. he thought of it. Small curls of wood fell to the ground, marking his passage as surely as footprints as he continued eastward.

The work was soothing in its simplicity. Different from cultivation exercises or sect duties, yet containing its own form of meditation. With each careful cut and shaving, the formless branch began to take shape. Not as anything elaborate, but as something functional. Perhaps a stake for securing his belongings, or a tool for testing the depth of streams he might need to cross.

As the sun climbed toward its zenith, Jiang Cheng continued his journey, the mountain of the Falling Star Sect diminishing behind him while the unknown territories of Whisper Valley lay somewhere in the days ahead. Each step carried him further from the familiar and closer to whatever challenges and opportunities, awaited him on his first true mission as a disciple.

Around two hours later, his stomach complaining, he sat on a bit, smooth rock, and ate a satiation pill. As for the carving, he ended up with a crude cube, a cut on one side, when he forced more Qi in the knife than necessary, making it dig much deeper. It wasn't anything fancy really. But it had been something to keep his mind preoccupied. To train his multitasking, Cheng thought.