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Unintended Cultivator Vol 12: Chapter 65 – The Strength To Do What Must Be Done
🕑 Added 2025-09-10 04:26:55 +0000 UTCSen hesitated at the door for a long moment. He knew the visit was necessary and unavoidable, but that didn’t make him eager for it. Like most unpleasant, necessary things, he also realized that putting it off wasn’t going to make it more enjoyable. Lifting his hand, he knocked on the door. Someone could have been sent ahead to announce him. It was probably the right way to handle things given his position now, but he didn’t want to cause havoc in the household. A woman opened the door and gave him a suspicious look.
“Yes?” she asked.
“Please tell the magistrate that Lord Lu is here to see him.”
The blood drained from the woman’s face as she dropped to the floor and pressed her head to the ground.
“Forgive me, Lord Lu!” she cried.
Sen let his head tilt back and just looked up at the sky for a second or two before he said, “There’s no need for that. You did nothing wrong. Please get up.”
The woman sprang to her feet, even though it looked as though it pained her a little.
“Please come inside, Lord Lu. I’ll tell magistrate that you’re here, Lord Lu,” said the woman frantically.
As he stepped inside the house and closed the door behind him, Sen tried to puzzle out if this woman was a servant or the magistrate’s wife. It wasn’t obvious from the way she was dressed. Nor could he draw any conclusions from her behavior. She was so panicked that her panic was the only thing he could discern about the woman. Giving up on the useless exercise, he nodded.
“Thank you,” he said.
Seeming almost ecstatic to have an excuse to flee, the woman rushed deeper into the house. Another, more composed servant appeared shortly after. She looked pale, but there was none of the frenetic energy that had made the other woman come across like a startled forest animal.
“Lord Lu, if you’ll come with me.”
He inclined his head and followed her to a well-furnished room that had obviously been decorated for the purpose of welcoming guests. He sat down in a cushioned chair that proved surprisingly comfortable.
“Would you care for some tea, Lord Lu?” asked the servant. “Something to eat?”
“Tea, please,” said Sen. “There’s no need to bring food. I doubt I’ll be here for very long.”
“Of course, honored cultivator.”
Sen blinked at that. It had been a while since anyone called him anything other than Lord Lu. It was refreshing to have someone relax their formality even a little. That thought was followed by some internal laughter. It wasn’t that many years earlier that even being called honored cultivator would have seemed far too formal for anyone speaking to him. It was only a few minutes later that the servant returned with a tea set and busied herself preparing two cups. I guess the magistrate must be almost ready to see me, thought Sen. Otherwise, the man’s tea would grow cold before he could drink it.
The prediction proved accurate, as the magistrate arrived mere moments later. He looked only marginally less panicked than the first woman Sen had spoken to. The out of breath magistrate ushered the servant out of the room before turning to Sen and bowing low.
“Lord Lu. Forgive me for making you wait.”
“There’s nothing to forgive. I arrived here unexpectedly.”
Appearing relieved at those words, the magistrate looked at one of the other chairs. He made a move toward it, then hesitated and glanced at Sen.
“Sit, magistrate,” said Sen. “This is your home, after all.”
“Thank you, Lord Lu.”
The magistrate settled into the other chair and idly picked up his tea, but didn’t drink it. Sighing inwardly, Sen dutifully picked up his own tea and took a deliberate sip. He’d never cared much about these little rituals that supposedly conveyed respect. Regardless of his own opinions, it was clear that the magistrate thought they were important. Sen let the man sip his tea in silence for a minute or two. He hoped it would help soothe the man’s nerves a little. The magistrate finally seemed to gather himself, because he looked directly at Sen.
“Lord Lu, how can I serve you today?”
The man’s word choice struck Sen. Not help or assist, but serve. The reasonable part of Sen knew that it was the appropriate choice, all things considered. Even so, there was no escaping that he’d grown up as a street rat. He’d never been a sect elder or noble, so the idea of people serving him still felt foreign and uncomfortable. Not that he could let any of that show on his face. If he did, he’d make the magistrate uncomfortable, which was the farthest thing from his actual goal in coming to the man’s home.
“We need to have a direct conversation about the leadership of this city,” said Sen, working hard to keep his tone gentle, “and your role in that leadership.”
The magistrate seemed to sag a little at those words.
“I’m to be replaced,” said the man, staring hard into his tea cup.
Sen considered the man before he said, “That depends entirely on you.”
The magistrate’s eyes shot up to meet Sen’s.
“How so?”
“Whoever I leave in charge here will be forced to make hard choices. They’ll have to stare down people who will want things. Things that may not be in the best interest of this city, this kingdom, or me. A fact that, I fear, you’ve been made all too painfully aware of.”
The magistrate flinched at the reminder of the abuse he’d been through, and then he nodded.
“Yes, Lord Lu. I have.”
“I am aware that you showed that resolve once before in trying to warn me about the plot. I commend you for that courage.”
The magistrate did his best to bow in his seat at the acknowledgement.
“Thank you, Lord Lu. This humble servant isn’t worthy of such praise.”
“You are. I’m sure you were under intense pressure to simply turn a blind eye or even participate in some way. It isn’t easy to ignore that.”
“It is not,” said the magistrate in a small voice.
“Sadly, the world isn’t in a state where I can reward past deeds and hope for the best. Your position here would have been secure for life in another time. We could have surrounded you with talented subordinates to ease your way. Unfortunately, I believe that all of us will face many equally difficult challenges in the days and years to come. While I’ll leave people here to support whoever is in charge, the strength to do what is necessary can’t come from them. So, the question I’ve come here to ask you today is simple. Do you have the strength to do what must be done? Not once, or twice, but again and again.”
At that, Sen picked up his tea and sipped it. The magistrate didn’t move. From where Sen sat, it barely looked as though the man was breathing. The turmoil was all too clear in the man’s eyes. It was anyone’s guess what was passing through the man’s mind. Maybe he was reliving his beatings. Maybe he was questioning his own will. Because the man had tried to do what was for the best, though, Sen was willing to let the man have the time he needed to answer the question. Not the answer he thought Sen wanted, but the actual answer to the question. That part was particularly important because those answers might well be a continent’s distance apart. The magistrate’s eyes cleared and he focused on Sen.
“When you first arrived here, you condemned us all for what we did to the farmers,” said the magistrate. “I’ve thought about that a great deal since then. It was wrong. It was obviously wrong and stupid, but we told ourselves lies to make it seem like the necessary thing. We told ourselves that we were just doing what needed to be done. But we weren’t. We were doing what served our own immediate interests. When I didn’t stand against that choice, I stained my karma with their deaths. And they must have been terrible deaths. I hid behind these walls and let others die. I can’t escape that. I’ll have to atone for it, in this life and probably the next. That’s why I came to warn you. That is why I can say, yes, I have the strength to do what must be done. And if I don’t, I’ll find it.”
Sen couldn’t say for sure if it was true, but there was conviction in the magistrate’s eyes. He meant it, and he believed he could do it.
“It won’t be easy,” said Sen.
“I know.”
“There may come a time when you truly must choose to sacrifice some in order to save the rest.”
The magistrate closed his eyes, took a breath, and said, “I know.”
Sen finished drinking his tea as he considered the other man. He hadn’t been lying when he said he couldn’t rely on hoping for things to work out for the best. Hope was not something the wise depended on. Not entirely. But to hope was both human and mortal. It did have value, and Sen felt that he’d become more than cynical enough. Just this once, here, he supposed he could rely on a hope a little. Standing, he nodded.
“Very well, magistrate. I will leave Emperor’s Bay in your hands.”
Comments
shackcat
TYFC
Angela Roberts
Tough decision but I like his reasons.
V
The Blood God melancholicly kicks a small rock. TFTC.
BelligerentGnu
Good for you, magistrate.
Eric Dontigney
It's you. This chapter IS shorter than the last one, but it's also 1600 words. The last chapter was closer to 1900. I usually aim for chapters in the 1500-2000 word range (at least for these books). So both are solidly in the target zone, as are most of the chapters. There are occasional outliers that run a little under, although I try not to do any that are less than 1200-1300 words. There are also the occasional chapters that run up to 2500 words or so.
Endgame
Is it me, or are the chapters getting shorter lol
