Core of Knowledge

He had failed. They had rejected him. He looks around at the result of his failure. His precious protective formations, which he had studied for thousands of years, were destroyed. His armor, made from the most legendary of materials, was broken. His paintbrush, which he had begun refining since the day he became a cultivator, has been shattered into a thousand pieces.

Xu Han had failed. Ten thousand years. For ten thousand years he had prepared, and he had still failed. As his soul gushed out from the numerous holes in his body, the cultivator who would be a god stared at the heavens above.

“Why?” Xu Han asked softly. “For ten thousand years, I roamed the Crimson Lands. I learned from every Empire, every Sect, every Holy Land, every Cult. I ignored my pride, bowed my head and was a student to every Sage of note. I had sacrificed both my honor and my dignity for knowledge. I had stolen and killed for it. I had done it all just for the sake of knowledge. Over five hundred thousand cultivation arts, countless different techniques from over a million schools, how can that not be enough?” Xu Han pleaded with the Heavens. “No one had learned more than me. No one can match my knowledge. My soul is strong. My Dao is established. My talent is unmatched. How could that not be enough?”

There was silence. The sound and thunder of the tribulation had passed, and the Heavens did not response to Xu Han’s plead. The Soul Emperor did not expect it to, but the gnawing feeling in his heart would not stop. Xu Han stood. Pain racked his body with every move, but the cultivator known as the Crazed Scholar ignored the pain.

“You are wrong. No one deserves this more than me. I had done everything for knowledge. Good and evil, right and wrong, I did it all in my quest for it. I deserve this! I deserve to ascend. I deserve to be the God of Knowledge!”

Xu Han knew it was foolish. A challenge to the Heavens could not go unanswered. Or unpunished. Xu Han did not care. He was going to die anyway, and he demand answers before his death. Xu Han did not take his eye from the sky above him. Finally, as he expected, it roared.

A rumble shook the entire Crimson Lands. Its intention was clear, but the Soul Emperor of Knowledge did not back down. He had challenged the Heavens and it had found him wanting. Xu Han wants to know why. What was he lacking? Why couldn’t he be the God of Knowledge?

Xu Han did not have to wait long. A bolt of lightning, red as blood, crashed down from the sky above. It struck the would-be God of Knowledge, its tremendous power destroying the disrespectful cultivator. Then, just before the Crazed Scholar was reduced to nothingness, he heard it. The softest of whispers. One last small mercy from the Gods in the Heavens Above.

What use is knowledge if it is not shared?

It shook Xu Han and a wave of understanding washed over him. The Heavens were right. For ten thousand years, he had learned from the cultivators of the land, and his methods were not always aboveboard. He had stolen, killed, and threatened countless cultivators for their knowledge, but he had never shared. Xu Han had never passed on his knowledge. He had no disciples, founded no sect, took in no students, and left no treasure. He had never created a secret realm like most Soul Emperors or even a library for future generations. All he knows, he had hoarded.

What use is knowledge if not shared?

Xu Han realized his error. He had learned, but never shared. He was no scholar. He was nothing but a hoarder. He had hoarded the knowledge he gained, and the Crimson Lands was poorer for it. Of the countless techniques he knew, a great number of them would be lost once he is gone, because Xu Han was the only one who knew them. The knowledge would die with him!

In desperation, Xu Han gathered the last of his strength and condensed his knowledge within his soul. He infused his soul into various items on his body. His pendant, his rings, even his shoes, and tattered armor. Xu Han infused them with his soul and threw the items out into the Crimson Lands. Hopefully, someone more worthy than him would gather them and learn from the knowledge within. A fit of pain shot through Xu Han’s body and he felt his soul disintegrating. Xu Han made no attempt to resist. For his crimes against knowledge, for his arrogance, he deserved nothing short of oblivion. Xu Han looked at the Heavens and smiled.

“Thank you for that last bit of knowledge. You are right. I am unworthy. If I have another chance, I vow to do better.”

Then, Xu Han, the Crazed Scholar, the Hoarder of Knowledge, the Thief of Ten Thousand Techniques was no more.