Magma Dragon Cultivation: Cursed Draw, I can feel it coming in the air tonight

Chapter 25 - Meeting the Sect Master



62nd of Season of Earth, 56th year of the 32nd cycle

Newt really had licked his fingers that night, the breaded yamaceratops filets were exquisite. He also managed to defend his chastity and the sanctity of his heavily scented rented bedroom. Dahlia proved to be a wonderful distraction, and the scandalously clad witty woman made splendid company. Newt would not have minded conversing with her again, if only she would put on some clothes over her underwear. He even enjoyed the bitter-sweet taste of the wine they shared.

But those were the joys of yesterday. A new day had dawned, and Newt had business to attend to at the city center. He took his nightmare as a warning and decided to advance cautiously. Newt did not wish to kill anyone else. For one, he feared another heart demon would worm its way into his realm, for another, killing his uncle was horrible enough that he had no desire to repeat the experience.

The young man brushed the dust off his pant legs, inspected his clothes before donning them, and went to register himself for the tournament.

Unsurprisingly, Newt was the only one there except for the Black Fist disciple in charge of taking applications.

“Name?” Asked the bored man who looked like he was thirty.

“Newstar Blazing Salamander.”

Newt’s name snapped the black-robed disciple out of his boredom. He eyed Newt suspiciously, searching for what was so special about the boy, but did not find what he was looking for.

“Sect master asked you to visit him when you arrived.” Newt suppressed a shudder as the man stood. “Follow me.”

Newt considered it, but he did not know what else to do, so he followed the disciple without saying a word. They crossed the street and went down a wide boulevard before turning into a side street and stepping in front of a massive, elaborate gate.

“I have brought Newstar Blazing Salamander,” the disciple told the guards and left. The right guard nodded to Newt.

“Follow me, Sir.” Utterly confused, Newt followed the man through a decorative courtyard with an artificial pond and stepped onto a small building’s porch.

“Sect Master, Newstar Blazing Salamander is here to see you.”

“Come in young man,” a deep, jovial voice came from inside the wooden building, and once more Newt did as he was told.

The building was simple, around five hundred square feet, with only a single chamber. Inside was a table and two comfortable mats, one housing Blackfist, who sat cross-legged. The bandit turned sect master had a powerful presence even while drinking and relaxing with a book in the form of a wooden tile scroll.

“Come, sit. Would you like some tea? I would offer wine, but you are so underaged, I am afraid someone would bring me before a magistrate for misguiding the youth.” The muscular man chuckled, and Newt failed to understand what was happening.

The Blackfist Elder Stronggrow described was an uncivilized marauder who had amassed enough wealth and power to open a sect some twenty years ago. He was fearsome and savage, short of temper and the very definition of unorthodox cultivators, as Elder Stronggrow described them.

The man sitting before Newt was different. He smiled amicably, his eyes shone with wisdom, and a steaming cup of tea had nothing to do with the bandit Newt had expected.

“I understand you have some misgivings about a girl. A very important topic at your tender age, but I would prefer us discussing it like civilized adults, rather than trading blows. Please, sit.”

Newt sat.

“Tea?”

Newt drank tea.

“You are a silent type? All action, no banter.” Blackfist never stopped smiling even as Newt shook his head.

“I have come about a girl and to participate in your tournament.” Newt paused before adding a sir, since it seemed proper.

Blackfist nodded.

“Understandable. The tournament reward is probably not worth your time, but by all means, trash a bunch of first realm cultivators struggling for resources to advance a layer, if you enjoy stealing from children.” The sect master chuckled at his own wit, casually seeing through Newt’s cultivation. “As for the girl, I wish to speak with you frankly. I have heard of you, and what you have done with your clan, and all the other nastiness you suffered. Life sometimes tempers us with hardship, but often it is simply unfair for no rhyme or reason. Do you mind if I broach some sensitive topics?”

Newt looked at the absolutely genuine and friendly senior addressing him, and did not know what to say. A single word found its way to his lips, “Sure.”

“That Jasmine girl you are eyeing is a self-centered gold digger, looking for nothing save to climb higher in the world. I dislike her, but Hardsteel has the right to do as he wishes with his life. He is not a child.” Blackfist spoke with a tone that leaned more towards a cold analysis than paternal worry. As if he had children to spare. He probably did.

“As for you, you are not my child, I can advise you about matters like this, and you are free to do as you like afterward. Now, I think she would be poisonous for you, so I spoke with my daughters to see if any would match your taste, and frankly I found them all self-centered, but nowhere nearly as manipulative, nor willing to prostitute themselves for power or wealth.”

Newt shuddered with rage after those words, but Blackfist chuckled apologetically.

“I apologize for being so blunt, it is a character flaw of mine, but I have your best interests at heart, and I can prove my claims.”

“How will you prove them?” Newt asked, he could feel venom dripping from his tone, but Blackfist pretended not to notice.

“I will show you, but first, please take your tea. You need to calm down and evaluate the situation with a clear mind.”

Newt downed the cup, staring at the retired bandit, who again chuckled and poured him a cup.

“Do enjoy it a bit and be more careful in the future, I could have poisoned you just now. While I am seeking to resolve our differences and deescalate the situation, I am not beneath poisoning or murdering my enemies.”

The easygoing way in which mentioned killing him combined with his carelessness struck Newt as hard as a blow. He eyed the cup suspiciously, and Blackfist laughed.

“It is too late to think about it after you have already drained one cup. Only an idiot would use a poison that will spare his enemy after taking a sip.”

Disturbed, Newt sipped the tea, but he could not recall the taste by the time he lowered his cup. He had forgotten about Jasmine, and only thought about one thing - the man sharing tea with him was much worse than the rumors suggested.

“How do you plan to prove your claims?” Newt asked after calming down and sorting his thoughts.

“In this long life of mine, I have found that words are empty and can never convince people even of the most obvious truths, so I usually rely on practical demonstrations. Demonstrating overwhelming force is much more effective than threats, demonstrating loyalty is much more effective than lip service. And in case you are wondering, this is also a demonstration.”

“A demonstration of what?” Newt asked, a tiny voice whispering into his ear that the man sitting with him is much more dangerous than all of his heart demons and his clan’s elders put together.

“I am demonstrating my usefulness, candidness, and desire to work with you, or at least, if you believe our differences are so huge that we cannot be allies, I am at least interested in nonaggression.”

“Why?” Newt could not understand why someone older, wiser, and probably stronger than him wished to be his friend and ally.

“Because you are a genius. My strength is great in this far end of the world. I could crush you where you stand either with poison or brute strength, but my instincts tell me I have much to gain from a friendship with you. Almost as much as you stand to gain by being friends with me.” Blackfist let his words sink in, sipping tea to give Newt enough time to digest what he had just heard.

“How do you know I’m a genius?”

Blackfist gave him a flat stare, lowering his cup.

“Because I have more than five brain cells. Listen, young man, your uncle threw you into an abandoned mine three years ago, and while your body has obviously suffered during that time, you have somehow awakened your spirit root, advanced your cultivation by an entire realm all on your own, and grown strong enough to destroy him utterly and win back your clan with the rest of the leadership accepting you. It would take a moron to think you were lucky.” Blackfist paused. “Scratch that. You should be aware, there are plenty of people out there who do not value information as much as they should. They might not look into potential allies and enemies out of arrogance, inexperience, or delusions of grandeur. Hells, they might even believe themselves invincible.”

The brawny man leaned towards Newt and grinned like a predator, showing perfect white teeth. “But I am not that kind of man.”


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