Chapter 5: The Flow of the City

  The morning sun cast long shadows across Sunglow City as Leo and Altan made their way through the bustling streets. Merchants were setting up their stalls, the aroma of freshly baked bread wafted from nearby bakeries, and early shoppers haggled over prices. Leo tried to absorb everything, noting how different this world was from Earth yet how familiar human interactions remained.

  "The first lesson in understanding cultivation," Altan declared, walking with his hands clasped behind his back, "is that everyone must discover their own path. The academies that have existed for centuries believe cultivation is about following established traditions, memorizing ancient texts, and never deviating from what worked for their ancestors."

  Leo nodded, watching a fruit seller arrange her colorful wares with careful precision. "That makes sense. If something works, why change it?"

  Altan clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "That's exactly the kind of thinking that limits most cultivators. First Brother understood that true advancement comes from innovation, from seeing what others cannot. That's why he founded our academy."

  They paused at a tea vendor, and Altan purchased two steaming cups with a casual flick of a silver coin. He handed one to Leo before continuing their walk.

  "Each of us at the Academy has discovered our own unique path," Altan continued. "That's the beauty of First Brother's teaching philosophy. He encouraged us to seek understanding that resonates with our individual spirits rather than forcing everyone into the same mold."

  And what about me?" Leo asked, blowing on his tea. "How am I supposed to discover my path when I can barely sense qi?"

  "That's the beauty of it," Altan replied with an easy smile. "You don't know yet what makes you special. But you will."

  Leo frowned, doubt creeping into his thoughts. Easy for him to say with his S-rank aptitude. He probably picked up cultivation as easily as breathing. Meanwhile, I'm struggling to feel anything at all.

  "I can see the doubt on your face," Altan observed. "You're wondering if you have what it takes."

  "I'm B-rank at best," Leo admitted. "Everyone else at the Academy seems exceptional."

  "That's precisely what makes us eccentric geniuses," Altan laughed. "We each bring something unique. First Brother didn't gather us because we were all S-rank talents. He gathered us because he saw something distinctive in each of us. Including you, Leo."

  As Altan continued explaining the nature of perception in cultivation, Leo noticed a shift in the crowd around them. People were stepping aside, making way for someone approaching. What Leo didn't miss was the subtle change in Altan's demeanor, a slight straightening of his posture, a calculated gleam in his eye, all while maintaining his casual lecture.

  Leo realized Altan had sensed the approaching presence long before it was visible. Far from being surprised, his teacher was already preparing for the encounter, like a chess player anticipating an opponent's move several turns ahead.

  "When you truly begin to see the world as it is, not as others tell you it is, you'll understand how—" Altan continued, deliberately raising his voice just enough to be overheard.

  "Well, if it isn't Third Brother Altan of the so-called Academy of Eccentric Geniuses," a cold voice interrupted.

  Altan turned unhurriedly to face the newcomer, his expression a perfect mask of casual surprise.

  An older man stood before them, his silver-streaked hair pulled back in a severe topknot. His robes were pale blue with intricate silver embroidery, and he carried himself with unmistakable authority. Two younger disciples flanked him, their expressions haughty.

  "Elder Feng of the Glacian Pavilion," Altan greeted with a casual bow that somehow managed to seem both respectful and dismissive at once. "What a pleasant surprise. Shopping for more ice to cool your temperament?"

  The elder's eyes narrowed. "Still as impertinent as ever. I had hoped with the Starlit Sage gone, you might have learned some humility."

  "First Brother will return soon enough," Altan replied, his confidence unwavering. "And when he does, he'll be disappointed to see the Glacian Pavilion still trying to cling on to a semblance of relevance."

  Elder Feng scoffed. "Your academy barely deserves the name. A handful of misfits playing at cultivation in an oversized compound. The fact that you barely recruit students speak to how much of a sham your academy is."

  "Quality over quantity," Altan countered. "And speaking of quality, our newest disciple will demonstrate our superiority at the Emperor’s Cup. The Glacian Pavilion should prepare for another humbling defeat."

  Leo felt his stomach drop as Altan gestured toward him. What is he doing? I can't even circulate qi properly yet!

  "Altan," Leo whispered urgently, tugging at Altan's sleeve. "Maybe now isn't the time—"

  Altan either didn't notice Leo's discomfort or chose to ignore it. He placed a proud hand on Leo's shoulder. "Leo here will show everyone what real cultivation looks like."

  Elder Feng studied Leo with cold, assessing eyes. Then he laughed, the sound sharp as breaking ice. "This is your champion? Another stray orphan with no cultivation foundation?" He leaned closer, scrutinizing Leo. "He hasn't even begun to circulate qi. I sense nothing from him but ordinary mortal energy."

  Leo shifted his weight from foot to foot, his collar suddenly feeling too tight as the elder's cold gaze dissected him.

  Six months until the tournament, and I'm being paraded in front of a cultivation expert who can immediately tell I have no cultivation at all.

  "It doesn't matter," Altan declared, undeterred. "By the time the tournament arrives, Leo will have not only begun cultivation but also pound your disciples into the ground."

  Coincidentally, Leo suddenly found the ground incredibly interesting, avoiding the incredulous stares of the two disciples flanking Elder Feng. He could feel their eyes measuring him, dismissing him, and he had never wished more fervently for the ability to disappear.

  No pressure or anything, Leo thought, fighting the urge to cringe. Just learn an entire magical system I barely understand in six months. Totally reasonable.

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  Elder Feng shook his head, genuine amusement in his cold eyes. "Your delusions grow more entertaining by the year, Altan. First, you claim your missing founder will return, and now you expect us to believe this ordinary mortal will become a cultivation prodigy overnight?" He turned to his disciples. "Remember this moment. This is what happens when you spend too much time inside your own dreams."

  With a dismissive wave, Elder Feng turned to leave. "The Glacian Pavilion will claim the Emperor's Cup this year. Your little academy's moment of glory died with the Starlit Sage's disappearance."

  As the elder took his first proud step away, Leo noticed a merchant's cart ahead suddenly halt. The driver appeared confused, checking his wheels as if something unexpected had occurred. The horse pulling the cart shifted uncomfortably, its tail swishing with unusual agitation.

  A small child chasing a paper butterfly ran between the elder and the stopped cart, causing Elder Feng to adjust his path slightly. As he did, his foot met a puddle that seemed oddly placed on the otherwise dry cobblestones.

  Arms windmilling, Elder Feng tumbled forward with surprising speed, his dignified posture completely abandoned. The horse, startled by the commotion, shifted its position just as the elder stumbled forward. The elder's face planted squarely against the animal's rear end, and in that precise moment, the horse released an explosive, unmistakable sound accompanied by a gust that ruffled the elder's immaculate hair.

  Gasps and poorly suppressed laughter erupted from onlookers. The elder's disciples rushed forward to help their master, their faces a mixture of horror and embarrassment.

  Beside Leo, Altan was whistling innocently, examining his fingernails. A peculiar stillness hung in the air around them, like the moment after a perfect musical note fades.

  As the elder's disciples helped him regain his footing, Elder Feng's face turned crimson with rage and humiliation. His eyes darted around, searching for someone to blame.

  "Interesting timing," Altan murmured to Leo with a subtle smile. "Let's continue our exploration. I believe we were heading to the blacksmiths next."

  He casually guided Leo away, moving with the natural flow of the crowd. His pace remained unhurried, his demeanor relaxed as they blended with the other shoppers.

  "That was quite a coincidence," Leo remarked once they'd turned down another street.

  "The world is full of them if you pay attention," Altan replied with a light shrug. "Now, where were we? Ah yes, I was explaining the importance of discovering yourself in cultivation.”

  They continued their walk through the market, the incident already seemingly forgotten in Altan's mind.

  "The Glacian Pavilion is just one of many established academies that resented First Brother's success," Altan explained. "Most of these schools have existed for hundreds of years, passing down their techniques and traditions generation after generation. Then First Brother appeared, founded the Academy of Eccentric Geniuses, a name that immediately irritated them, and recruited only a handful of disciples."

  "That doesn't sound like a threat," Leo observed.

  "It wasn't, until we destroyed them in competition," Altan grinned. "Selian, Kaelin, and I swept the Emperor’s Cup in our division. Three disciples from an unknown academy defeating centuries of tradition? It was unprecedented. First Brother's methods were validated in the most public way possible."

  They turned down a less crowded street lined with artisan workshops. Through open doors, Leo could see blacksmiths hammering glowing metal, weavers working on intricate tapestries, and jewelers polishing gleaming stones.

  "Now it falls to you, Aline, and Renzo to continue what we started," Altan said, his tone growing more serious. "The tournament isn't just about prestige. It's about proving that First Brother's vision for cultivation is valid, that innovation trumps tradition."

  The weight of expectation settled on Leo's shoulders like a physical burden. How am I supposed to live up to this legacy? I've been here less than a week.

  "I don't even know what my cultivation path is supposed to be," Leo admitted, gazing at the busy marketplace. "Everyone else seems to have a clear direction—elements, time, fate. What's mine?"

  He turned to face Altan directly, frustration evident in his expression. "Am I just supposed to randomly choose something? Should I just pick lightning or fire because it sounds cool?" He gestured broadly with his hands. "You said I'm special like First Brother, but how am I supposed to use this trait? Should I try to manipulate fate like you do?"

  Altan's eyes crinkled with amusement. "You're misunderstanding something fundamental, Leo."

  They stopped at a small stone bench near a fountain where children were tossing copper coins into the water. Altan motioned for Leo to sit.

  "Even within the same domain, there are countless interpretations," Altan explained. "Take Second Sister and Aline, for instance. What kind of cultivation do you think Second Sister practices?"

  Leo frowned, thinking back to his interactions with Second Sister. "I have no clue, actually. She gave off no indication during our training. She only helped me with basic qi circulation."

  "Yet she never mentioned it?" Altan raised an eyebrow.

  "No," Leo replied. "Not once."

  Altan smiled. "Second Sister also cultivates time and space manipulation, just like Aline."

  Leo's eyes widened in surprise. "But Aline shoots temporal arrows! Second Sister never did anything like that."

  "Precisely," Altan said, leaning back. "They cultivate the same fundamental forces but have developed entirely different understandings and applications. Second Sister specializes in creating pocket dimensions and manipulating spatial boundaries. Her understanding led her down a path of containment and structure, while Aline's path led to temporal arrows and movement manipulation."

  Leo watched the flowing water of the fountain, contemplating this revelation. "So even with the same basic element or force..."

  "The expression is unique to each cultivator," Altan finished. "First Brother taught us that cultivation isn't about copying techniques, it's about developing personal insight into the nature of reality."

  He gestured toward the marketplace. "Look at those blacksmiths. They all work with metal and fire, yet each creates something unique. One makes weapons, another jewelry, another builds cooking implements. Same materials, wildly different outcomes."

  Leo nodded slowly. "So my path might look completely different from First Brother's, even if we share this 'untethered from fate' quality."

  "Exactly! Your understanding will shape your cultivation, not some predetermined template," Altan said.

  He leaned forward, eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Let me ask you something, Leo. Knowing what little you do about First Brother and his unique nature, what do you think he could accomplish that others couldn't?"

  Leo paused, caught off guard by the question. He stared at the passing crowd, letting his mind explore the possibilities.

  "Well," he began slowly, "I guess the most obvious thing would be that he could ignore fate-based abilities and attacks, right? Since he exists outside the normal patterns of fate in this world, divination techniques or fate manipulation probably wouldn't affect him."

  "Yes," Altan nodded, "that's the obvious application, but it's merely a side effect of something much more profound."

  Leo furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

  "Think bigger," Altan encouraged. "This concept extends to karma itself, the force that maintains balance in the natural order. Karma is a tangible force that balances good and bad fortune."

  Leo's expression shifted as he considered this. "Like luck?"

  "In a way, yes," Altan said. "But it's more structured than mere chance. Cultivators use karma as a foundation for binding contracts and curses. When someone breaks an oath bound by karma, the backlash is automatic and inescapable. Powerful cultivators can manipulate this force to create contracts that, if broken, result in specific consequences."

  "So karma is like cosmic enforcement?" Leo asked.

  "Precisely," Altan replied.

  Leo nodded slowly as understanding dawned. "So as someone untethered from fate, I wouldn't be subject to karmic backlash."

  "Now you're thinking like a true eccentric genius," Altan said with satisfaction. “Mull on it more and consider how you can derive your own unique understanding and path.”

  "Thank you dearest Senior Brother for your revelations," Leo pantomimed clasping his hands and bowing with an exaggerated flourish.

  "Ugh, stop it," Altan groaned, but a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Let's head back now to see your Second Sister. Perhaps these revelations," Altan exaggerated the word, "can help you with your training with her."

  As they made their way back toward the Academy gates, Altan suddenly stopped, his eyes catching sight of a small bookshop. "Wait," he said, before heading in. Leo waited outside, shifting uncomfortably as passersby glanced at him. When Altan emerged, he carried a wrapped book which he thrust into Leo's hands.

  "Forbidden Meridians: A Cultivator's Passionate Journey," Leo read aloud, eyes widening. "You can't be serious."

  "Don't forget to give this to her," Altan replied with a wink. "Consider it part of your training."