Cultivation System: Elder Edition

Chapter 472

Unending Oath (I)

Though it was most certainly the kind of a scene that should have me screaming and hollering and trying to run as far away as possible, I was... oddly calm. Even as those cosmic eyes, the size I couldn't compute just yet, stared into the depths of my soul, I didn't feel... malice. Or anger. Or much of anything, really.

Even the voice was more so laced with tiredness than any other emotion, deep and droning.

I couldn't make out anything past the small fragment of the face--I didn't know whether this was an illusion, whether I was physically kidnapped, or whether it was a dream, and I'm happily snoring back in the camp... but it didn't matter.

It was real, that much I could tell.

I really was talking with the very being I was seeking out so I could very nicely ask for its heart.

... yeah.

"Greetings, Senior." I'm surprised those were my first words as I stood up and bowed.

"I care little for the propriety of humanity. Your little gestures are all the same to me. Answer my question, human. Are you the one who delivered death unto my realm?"

"Uh, no? I don't think so, at least," I replied. I really didn't think I did. Could it be Long Tao's doing? I just assumed this was how it was. "Isn't it those guys who trapped us in here wanting to sap our Life Qi?"

"They have tried many times. But it was not them. Hm. Perhaps... it merely was time."

"..."

"There is only one reason one would come this far north where there was never anything of worth--to seek me. Tell me, human. Why are you seeking an old, dying thing?"

For your heart? So I can rip it out, chew it, and have my perfect breakthrough?

Yeah.

I'd sooner cut my tongue than say those words. And yet... that's kind of exactly why I've come here. Guilt swelled up like an old monster as I stared back at the weathered face.

The small piece of Xuanwu's shell was my last resort, and I really didn't want to use it.

"I've come here selfishly."

"Most humans do. I imagine, like a few others before you, you have come seeking my heart."

"..." wow. So, I'm not the only insane one? That's actually kind of a relief. "There were others?"

"You are eighth, to be precise."

"... seeing as you're still here, I should feel lucky to experience quick death."

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"No. I have offered my heart to all of them--should they earn it."

... let me guess. Do something so utterly impossible that it defies logic?

"I very much doubt I'm quarter as talented as they were," I said. "The best I can hope for is that Senior forgives my arrogance and merely lets me live."

"Talent? Why would I care for such an inconsequential thing? Humans... you have always been the same, ever since the dawn. No. It is something that even mortal among you have the capacity to accomplish."

"Oh?" my hope perked back up a bit, but not for long. Whatever it was, if there were seven who failed before me, it was hard if not outright impossible. "How can I earn your heart, Senior?"

"Let me see yours."

"..." eh? Like... you want me to rip open my chest and show you my heart? Yeah, okay, it's obviously not that. But I'm confused. "Uh... how?"

"A small part of my consciousness will enter yours; do not resist, do not attempt to hide anything, and do not attempt to change anything. I swear upon Dao that I shall not divulge to anyone else what I bear witness, no matter what."

... wow. Okay, I kind of understand why the other seven failed. Even if there were a few among them who accepted it to begin with (unlikely), who the hell knows that the old turtle's criteria were? Maybe he only wanted a saint who had never killed before, who donated every coin they earned to charity, who fed the poor, housed the homeless, clothed the naked, and shaved the bearded--okay, it's probably not that extreme, but still.

My biggest fear used to be someone discovering I'm not of this world. I'm pretty sure that Long Tao has figured that one out, though he definitely didn't figure out just how alien my home world is. My new biggest fear is someone figuring out just how special those kids are and taking them away to brainwash them into becoming some soldiers.

Do I trust this random turtle? Probably more than an average person, to be honest.

The system was rather insistent that I need to use the fourth path, and it has never done that before. I just hope him learning about the kids won't lead to any consequences.

"Very well," I nodded.

"Oh? You are allowing me to?"

"What? Am I the first?"

"Second."

"Oh. Well, second isn't bad, either." I closed my eyes and sat down cross-legged.

"Hm. Very well. Let us begin."

**

The human before it was as ordinary as any other--no, perhaps even more ordinary than any other human it had ever met. Most of those who came before it were regarded highly, proclaimed the chosen, and of Dao made, capable of twisting mountains with their fingers.

This man, however, was ordinary.

It closed its eyes and let loose a small tendril of its consciousness; it feared that even this much would be harmful, as few humans had the ability to endure even an ounce of Divinity.

It sent it between the man's rather relaxed brows. Though it said that one other accepted it, that man was far from as relaxed and trusting. A complete opposite of this one, in fact.

In the end, he tried recklessly to capture the trace of divinity... and died.

This ordinary human did no such thing--he truly let it in, his mind wide open. There were no traps, no attempts to hide shameful things in the depths of one's memory, no attempts to cloak the evils.

Memories were never truly factual--for humans, in its experience, every memory was associated with emotion, and that emotion was akin to a smearing color on top of a finished canvas. What looked like an ordinary, inoffensive interaction could be driven red with guilt if the memory holder associated it as such. Because of that, memories were like a collection of flickering clouds--some were large, full, and visible. Some were smaller but still dense; some, yet, were tattered and broken up.

But this man's memories... were in an odd disharmony. It took but a moment to recognize why--a secondary soul took over the original one upon the latter's death. Though far from common, it had seen it before, where the truly powerful seek to escape death, breaking the harmony of Dao to do so.

... but there was no discordance. There was no mark. Dao had not condemned the man for such an act.

It looked deeper. And deeper. And deeper.

And with each layer... its heart grew wearier yet lighter.

Ordinary?

Perhaps, yes. This man indeed was ordinary in all the ways of martial artists.

But it had never met another one like him, not in the unending years it had persisted in this world.