Unintended Cultivator

Book 9: Chapter 45: Infiltration (5)



Sen swiftly discovered that his salacious rumor theory was more than true. Even hidden as he was during the daylight hours, it was all anyone could talk about. There was endless speculating about what had happened and why with a morbidly gleeful undercurrent to it all. While he was happy that his little subterfuge had seemingly worked, he was a little disappointed in the people of this sect for being so happy about it. Still, the one thing he didn’t hear anyone speculating about was some mysterious third party being the actual culprit. The only time someone even broached the possibility, they were immediately taken to task for being stupid. In short, no one believed it was even possible that someone could have infiltrated their sect, let alone killed a couple of people and gotten away with it. That was good for him, even if it wasn’t good for their security.

Not that everything had been going smoothly for him. The dwellings for the inner disciples and core members were better protected than the buildings for the outer disciples. There were some basic measures that had obviously been put in place by the sect. He could tell by how shoddy they were. The individuals living in those homes, on the other hand, routinely added their own security measures. Those were often of better quality. While he could shadow walk past many of them, once he stepped back into normal reality, he was subject to any security measures they put in place.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

His hiding ability let him simply ignore many of them but not all of them. It slowed him down a lot more than he’d like because every dwelling required him to come up with unique countermeasures and solutions. It was educational, but he didn’t come into this sect to be educated. He’d entered to set up an enormous trap. The longer it took him, the more likely it would be that he’d get caught. It didn’t even need to be something big. It could just be a matter of inattention. The previous night, he’d very nearly stepped on a sleeping cultivator when he shadow walked through the wall of their home. The only reason he hadn’t woken her was that she seemed to be drunk. That was something he could only attribute to dumb luck.

Of course, he didn’t need to get seen inside any of the homes either. He’d assumed that the pair of cultivators he’d killed were an aberration. It turned out that those copses of trees he’d been relying on to provide him some cover were popular meeting places for cultivators with a mind to engage in some carnal pleasures. He’d gotten more than one eyeful while skirting around couples in the throes of passion. It might have even been vaguely amusing if he wasn’t so worried about getting caught by someone. He’d thought it happened when one man looked right at him. He’d frozen in place, checking and rechecking that he was still wrapped in shadow.

“I don’t like it when you ignore me,” a woman complained to the man. “What could you possibly be looking at that’s more interesting than me?”

“What?” asked the startled man, an edge of panic in his voice. “Nothing. Just a shadow.”

Sen could only be thankful that the woman proceeded to pout and refused to continue until she was certain that the man was giving her his entire attention again. When he’d managed to creep away, he was confident that the man had forgotten all about that odd shadow that had caught his attention ever so briefly. Those close calls drove home to him the true precariousness of his situation. Even if his plan failed and Uncle Kho was waiting to reduce this entire place to smoldering ruins, that wouldn’t mean much if Sen got himself seen. At that point, escaping would be a distant possibility. Even if he managed to get away initially, there were so many people here that fighting his way out successfully was questionably possible at best. It would only take one cultivator in the sect getting lucky one time, and he’d be done.

If that happened, he’d leave Ai an orphan again. Well, no, he admitted to himself, she’d never be an orphan like she had been when he took her in. Auntie Caihong, Uncle Kho, Master Feng, Falling Leaf, and the entire damned academy would close ranks around her like a fortress of death. Hells, even Fu Ruolan would probably step into the role of the very strange, moderately unhinged, but unrelentingly vengeful aunt. No, Ai would not be alone. She would be loved. But she would be absent another father, and it wouldn’t be like the last time. She was old enough now that she would remember him. She would feel that loss. It would mark her in ways Sen did not want her marked. If he’d needed any additional incentive to be wary, there it was.

As he waited out the day in another tiny, unused room, he found himself considering Lo Meifeng in a new light. They’d had a few discussions about the kind of work she did, but she’d never wanted to go into too many details. He thought he understood her a little better now. The sorts of pressures she’d been under and the reasons she handled relationships the way that she did. He certainly wasn’t going to be bragging to anyone about what he did inside this sect. However necessary it was, it was not the kind of work that left him feeling fulfilled. It didn’t make him proud. He’d be glad when the job was done and relieved if it was successful, but that was all. He’d largely discarded notions of honor as empty and frivolous, but he’d finally found out where he drew that line. What he was doing and planning to do felt dishonorable. The only consolation he had was that the Twisted Blade Sect planned to overwhelm his sect with numbers. There was no honor in that either.

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As for why Lo Meifeng maintained so few close relationships, that had become patently clear. If Sen was doing things like this all the time, he never would have even considered taking in Ai for a second. Every cultivator lived with the risk of violence finding them, but those risks were manageable. The risks he was taking now were insane. A single false move and the whole thing would come tumbling down around him. Doing it once because he had to was one thing. Doing it all the time, though? That would make any kind of serious relationship problematic at best. Having a family? Having children? It would be a level of irresponsibility that he could scarcely comprehend. When you knew that every single time you went out to do your work there was a good chance of never coming back, even having friends harbored an element of cruelty. There was a good chance they’d never know what happened to you if you died. If he was her, he wouldn’t choose to know very many people either.

Sen rubbed his face with his hands. He was tired to the core. The lack of sleep, the constant hiding, the doubts that kept trying to creep in, and the need to keep finding solutions to security measures he hadn’t counted on were all catching up to him. Thanks to his body cultivation, he could physically keep going like this for weeks. His body didn’t need the rest. Hells, his body just kept feeling better and better. His mind was a different matter. It wasn’t weak, but it also wasn’t invulnerable. It had limits and, like it or not, he was edging ever closer to them with each day that passed. He was glad that he was almost done in the sect. He would inevitably start making real mistakes soon if things kept on going the way they had been.

There was a part of him that was surprised that Uncle Kho hadn’t lost patience and simply attacked the sect. This mission inside the sect hadn’t been meant to take this long. He’d thought it might take three or four days, not more than a week. A little part of him was warmed that they had enough faith in him not to assume that something had gone terrible, irrevocably wrong. They trusted that it was taking this long because it needed to, not because he’d been stupid and gotten caught. Of course, he had also told them that things would probably get loud if he did get caught. Maybe that was the reason they hadn’t come charging in. Sen hadn’t single-handedly reduced any large buildings to gravel and ash.

Well, that and Uncle Kho and Glimmer of Night were both very patient. It would have been Falling Leaf who decided that she’d waited long enough and launched a one-ghost panther rescue effort. Not that he’d want to be on the wrong side of that rescue effort. She probably couldn’t rescue him by herself, but he had no doubt that she’d kill a lot of people before they brought her down. Of course, if it looked like that was going to happen, Uncle Kho would step in. The elder cultivator had a soft spot for Falling Leaf and, even if he didn’t, he’d save her because Sen cared what happened to her. Plus, he didn’t like sects, and here one stood filled with belligerent cultivators. Sen was honestly impressed with the man’s restraint. Given what Uncle Kho had explained about his sister, Sen doubted he would have shown that much self-control in similar circumstances.

Sen gave his head a little shake. He was getting distracted. He needed to focus if only for one or two more days. After that, he could slip away and get at least a few hours of much-needed sleep. Once he had a little rest to clear his mind, the end of the Twisted Blade Sect would come. He kept himself from getting distracted or drifting into sleep by making plans for his own sect. He’d gotten more than a few ideas from seeing how badly protected this sect was. Granted, the protections at his sect were much better, but they weren’t perfect by any means. He’d thought of at least six improvements just for the formations around the sect and the town.

He’d also considered some more practical defenses. While cultivators tended to dismiss mortal tools as useless, Sen had had some long discussions with Jing about how mortals protected their walls. He meant to institute some of those ideas. He’d even heard about something called a ballista from Captain Chen. The always-interesting seaman had seen them on ships that came from the other side of the continent. He’d even sketched what he could remember about their design for Sen. To Sen, the things had looked vaguely like oversized crossbows. It wasn’t a lot to go on, but Sen was willing to invest some time and money into trying to develop working versions.

If they were anything like crossbows, that minimally meant that there were people in this kingdom who might be able to create the machines. Combine the bolts the ballista fired with the right enchantments, and Sen thought they had a decent chance of taking down large spirit beasts or careless cultivators. Even if it was all just a mental exercise at this point, that didn’t deter him. He suspected that every useful tool and weapon in the world started its life that way. When night fell and he slipped out of his hiding place, Sen’s mind was filled with the possibilities of a cultivator-powered ballista. �


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