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Unintended Cultivator Vol 12: Chapter 56 – The Weight of Time
🕑 Added 2025-08-14 16:19:57 +0000 UTCSomething Sen had become increasingly conscious of in the past few years was that going off and doing something by himself was never easy or fast. He spent most of a day just dragging up rock from deep in the earth to reinforce and, in one area, expand the walls. Then, because the nine-tail foxes were paying attention, he had to dissolve another noble house that thought his coming absence meant they could seize control of the former Soaring Skies Sect compound. Why they thought that was beyond him, but the whole thing had caused more chaos that needed to be managed.
The cultivators he’d asked to come from the capital arrived sooner than he’d expected. It seemed that they’d been chosen for at least partially mastering Sen’s own qinggong technique. He was pleased they had managed it, but had to correct some bad habits that would stifle additional progress. Fortunately, they didn’t need much in the way of orders aside from being shown where to set up their glass buildings. It seemed they had refined their approach in the capital sufficiently that all they needed now was a location and materials. However, he had been forced to save Chou Dai Lu and Yue Shui from an informal interrogation about who they were.
It was only after all of dealing with all of that nonsense that he was finally able to depart. He made a point to leave long before the Sun was up since it was the only way to avoid having a crowd waiting to see him off. The only people on the wall when he rose into the air were Falling Leaf, a disapproving Song Lan, Xu Xiao Dan, Chou Dai Lu, and a very sleepy but nonetheless weepy Yue Shui. He didn’t have any final orders to give. Nor did he offer lengthy farewells, since he didn’t expect to be away for long. The one exception was Yue Shui, who he lavished with some extra attention and took up into the air for a short ride. It didn’t wholly heal her mood, but it helped.
With that, he was gone, following the path of the road to the north. He used his spiritual sense more than his eyes to stay on course. He was, however, happy that he was well away from the city before the sun came up. There were very likely bodies, or parts of bodies, on the road closer to Emperor’s Bay. They would need to be seen to, but he wasn’t eager to see them. They were a very tangible reminder of his recent failures and a true testament to everything wrong with the kingdom. I may not rule for long before I’m forced to ascend, he though, but there will be changes. I won’t let something like what happened to those farmers happen again without far more hideous consequences.
When he thought back on it, he couldn’t help but think he’d taken the wrong path by leaving most of the mortal government and nobles in place. Regardless of how limited their vision might be, they had all stood idly by and condemned all the mortals outside the city to death. Letting most of them live might have reduced the chaos, but it galled him all the same. Master Feng had warned him about this possibility, that he might have look the other way or put up with allies he loathed to win. He just hadn’t expected it to be so soon or so infuriating. Not that what he was seeing below him was any less infuriating.
Empty villages gave way to destroyed towns. He hadn’t stopped in most of them, but people had lived there once. Now, they were gone. The lucky ones might have fled to Emperor’s Bay, but most of them had probably died. Killed by the spirit beasts or their lives bled away by the merciless cold of winter. The worst of it was absolute the emptiness in those homes and ruins. He’d been harboring hopes that he might find survivors here or there. It seemed the spirit beasts were more thorough than he’d given them credit for. Far too soon, he found a much more familiar sight.
He landed in the town and memories, most of them bitter, washed over him. He recalled the way he bargained for time and a chance at life with Boulder’s Shadow, followed by the desperate fight against the spirit beasts. As vivid as the memories were, he struggled to recall himself feeling so utterly outmatched and desperate. He walked the path he had taken to escape the spirit beasts, and took in the destruction he’d left with his inept use of Heaven’s Rebuke. It was miraculous that he’d ever survived using that technique, let alone for long enough to gain some level of mastery over it.
Finally, he walked to where he’d had his confrontation with Changpu. Sen ran his hand across the jagged edge of the hole where he’d kicked the man through a wall. Turning to look at the spot where he’d taken Changpu’s arm. He could almost see himself standing there, quivering with anger and confusion, and mentally clawing for a half-measure. He’d been so ignorant of how the world worked then, and so committed to ideals that could never survive in this world. He'd been afraid of the sects and what they might do.
Now, all of that felt so trivial. Even the battle with the spirit beasts here seemed like a minor skirmish. The playacting of children who didn’t comprehend the true horror of mortals, cultivators, and spirit beasts clashing and dying by the thousands.
“And I never even learned the name of this town,” he murmured.
It hadn’t seemed important at the time. He’d been so relieved at surviving, and angry with the Soaring Skies Sect, that he’d never thought to ask. He wished he’d thought to ask now.
“You’re stalling,” he chastised himself.
He knew what came next and didn’t look forward to it, but waiting wouldn’t make it less terrible. Steeling himself as well as he could, he rose into the air. All too soon, he found himself hovering over what was left of the Luo Farm. There wasn’t much left, although he couldn’t even be sure if it had been a spirit beast attack or just other mortals. He didn’t find any bodies or even bones, despite sifting the rubble with both his hands and his qi. Sen had hoped he could give them proper funerals if nothing else. The heavens knew he had enough experience with that. Instead, he was left the logical likelihood of their deaths but no certainty. He thought that uncertainty was far worse. It was like a rock that lodged itself in his mind, tethering a slender thread of hope that likely had no basis in truth.
He stood on the ruins of that farm for far longer than he should have because his next stop would be even worse. Not because he’d been closer to those people, but because that little girl with her toy dragon had never aged in his mind. She would be an adult now, he knew, if she lived. She might even have children of her own. Yet, to him, she would always be that cheerful little girl with a misshapen toy that looked nothing like a real dragon. And, even if was she grown now, she might well still have lived on her parents’ farm. When he finally forced himself to take to the air again, he did so on a qi platform, unwilling to hasten what he expected to be more damnable uncertainty.
What he found was little more than the faint impression of a farm. He could see some loose stones where the house had been. There was cleared land nearby that hadn’t been reclaimed by nature yet. That was all. There were no obvious signs of violence, which meant that the farm may have simply been abandoned years earlier. The other villagers might have claimed the stone and whatever belongings looked useful. There was just no way to know. Sen knew that it was like this in much of the kingdom, but it hit him harder. He had met these people. Shared food with them. An unusual sense of helplessness seized him then.
For all his power, there was nothing he could do here. There were no enemies to fight. No wounds to heal. Not even any people he could ask what had happened. He had the strength to raise a mountain on this spot, but he couldn’t even find out what had happened to one family of mortals. Rarely had his advancement into the nascent soul realm felt so pointless. This is the world the spirit beasts want, he thought. A world where humans are nothing but memories that fade as the evidence of their lives disappear beneath the weight of time.
Realizing that there was nothing he could do, Sen took the air once more. There was one place left to look. One last place where people might still linger.
Comments
shackcat
TYFC
Den
"For all his power, there was nothing he could do here. There were no enemies to fight. No wounds to heal." This line hits HARD
Angela Roberts
Damn it.
Endgame
Delete the words in the parentheses. Love this story so much. It was only after (all of) dealing with all of that nonsense that he was finally able to depart.
Captain Nuclear
Damn.
gary lutz
The curse of autocorrect. Retreding the path.
