Truthful Transmigration

Waking up once again was ultimately less disorienting than the first time, but more disappointing. John found that he was still in someone else’s body… and perhaps more significantly in a different world. Fortkran Tenebach had certainly died, and John was fairly certain he had too.

He was reminded of various forms of media where vaguely similar things happened. In those situations, people usually scrambled around to get sent back to their world. Certainly, he had responsibilities to attend to on Earth, and he would prefer to get back… but realistically he couldn’t. What was he going to do, save the kingdom and then step through a portal back home instead of staying with new friends and statistically someone that had been fallen in love with?

He wasn’t even in a kingdom. The Stone Conglomerate was an allied group of smaller cultivator nations that basically governed themselves but acted in each others’ defense. As far as he knew, there wasn’t anyone that needed saving. Probably someone, but he couldn’t do it. Because he was… a normal person. And in a world of cultivators- even though he barely comprehended it- that meant he was a tiny ant. Even among his own family- or Fortkran’s family at least- both his parents were late Foundation Phase cultivators and his grandfather was beyond that in the Soul Expansion Phase. He… this body… had been close to Foundation Phase but failed at the moment of breakthrough, dropping him back to the bottom of the Spiritual Collection Phase. Or below the bottom, since he didn’t have a scrap of spiritual energy inside him. And his meridians… well, maybe they were very slightly recovered after taking the medicine.

John found himself cursing for his body’s reluctance to not seek out help. What were hired healers for if not seeking out when injured? However, it was too late to change that. He had arrived where he was. When he thought of telling anyone what happened, his body rejected the idea. He could override his feelings, but perhaps they were there for a good reason. Perhaps telling anyone would be a mistake. But he at least wanted to change some things.

He got dressed- at least he had memory of where clothes were and what was appropriate to wear. Anything he set his eyes on he recognized naturally. Accessing memories wasn’t too hard, but the gaps on knowledge he thought he should have were strange. But maybe it was just hunger. He knew Fortrkan’s parents wouldn’t be up so early- falling asleep in the middle of the afternoon had certainly made him wake up before normal- so he could have breakfast without having to talk to them. Avoiding people seemed like a good idea at the moment. What was he supposed to say, ‘Hi, sorry but your son is dead and I took over his body’? That was… extremely untactful, and potentially unwise. And he didn’t want to lie, so avoidance was the best tactic. It seemed like they didn’t speak every day anyway, so he could keep that up until he had a chance to think.

When he entered the dining room, a servant quickly stuck his head out of the kitchen. “Young master… you’re early.” The servant hesitated a moment, “We can get started on whatever you wish, of course, but it takes time…”

“Just get me something quick.” John thought for a moment. What did he eat normally? Something like pancakes drenched in sugary syrup and slathered with butter. That was fine occasionally, but wasn’t he supposed to be a martial artist? He looked down, finding he wasn’t fat… but that didn’t seem like the best breakfast diet regardless. “Just cook me something hearty. Sausage and eggs.”

The servant nodded. “Of course, young master.” He turned to leave, but John called after him. “Wait!” The servant turned around. “What’s your name?”

The servant hesitated half a moment and turned. “It’s Wolfe, young master.”

After Wolfe turned his back, John frowned. He’d seen that servant before. Probably every day, but he didn’t know his name. And asking his name made him nervous. But he needed to know the names of his servants. Even though he was from modern Earth, John wasn’t planning to upset the social system. Perhaps it wouldn’t be fitting to become buddies with his servants, but knowing their names seemed entirely appropriate. Was he supposed to not? He didn’t get a feeling either way. Just that Fortkran hadn’t thought it important.

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Breakfast had been delicious- there were creatures resembling chickens in this world, but he wasn’t sure if the eggs were from them or something else. They were certainly quite large in either case, and quite rich. The sausage was excellent as well. John had the feeling he didn’t want to know how much his food cost, though he couldn’t compare it to how much the servants made because he honestly didn’t know that part. Just that the clan was well off, having several high ranking cultivators- at least for the area they lived in. From the few memories he had of watching cultivators fight or sparring, he knew how much difference each cultivation level made. And each phase was split up into nine levels. Either of his parents could probably kill him with a single finger. Not that they would… if they thought he was Fortkran. He would deal with that later. First, he wanted to try to at least fix some problems with himself, like having lost all of his cultivation. That was important, and even though he had a cushy life as a young master of a clan he was expected to cultivate and do well at it.

Fortkran had some cultivation methods memorized, but there was a slight problem. He hadn’t cultivated until he had been blessed by the family’s guardian beast. Even though his eyes had seen it, he didn’t know what it was. Just a changing shape in the darkness… and intimately connected to that element.

Was darkness bad? John thought about that. Fortkran didn’t seem like he had been the most pleasant fellow, as he was going through the memories, but there was nothing about the elemental darkness that had seemed malignant. He hadn’t had to kill anyone or kick a puppy to use the power. It just seemed to be something that absorbed the force of attacks as armor and could be added to his own strikes to damage enemies- much like any other energy. In theory. In partly remembered theory. Fortkran had cultivated more or less diligently… but he hadn’t done a lot of reading. John planned to rectify that, and the Tenebach clan just so happened to have a private library.

Sitting at a desk inside the entrance of the library was an older man, but John could feel a sense of power coming from him. He couldn’t quite place the magnitude of it, but if he recalled correctly he should have been at the thirteenth cultivation level, about middle Foundation Phase. He stood as John entered and bowed. “Good morning, young master Fortkran.”

“Good morning Dionsio,” John inclined his head. Apparently names were worth remembering if the owner was strong. He agreed with that, but that wasn’t the only reason to remember someone’s name. “I’ll just be browsing the shelves.”

“Of course,” Dionsio returned to his seat.

John internally breathed a sigh of relief as he moved behind the shelves. Hopefully the man hadn’t noticed his drop in cultivation. Though maybe he thought it was being hidden. Either way, it was too late to change anything.

He browsed the shelves for books. At least he was able to dredge up a few memories of the library, though they were indeed few. Mostly he had to figure out the organizational system before he was able to pick a few books off the shelves. An important one was “An Overview of Spiritual Totems”. John knew Fortkran had been able to connect to a spiritual totem of the third layer… a reasonable enough achievement for a first totem, but nothing impressive for a young master of a clan. It was known as the Claws of Darkness, and had allowed him to have a unique combat style. However, John was unable to feel any connection to it. Perhaps he just needed to cultivate, but he was hoping he could select one once he began cultivating. Or at the very least he wanted to be informed for the second totem he could bind to once he reached Foundation Phase. The worst case scenario- besides just being a cripple now- was that he couldn’t connect to a totem at the Spiritual Collection Phase at all. He hoped that wasn’t true, but the thought crossed his mind.

He picked up a few other books. He had enough to keep himself occupied for a long time… and to keep him from thinking about Earth, and how things were going there. Because he couldn’t do anything about that, and instead had to deal with what he had now. He also went further into the back, past a set of wards that easily allowed him passage. That was where actual cultivation methods were kept. He picked out a few basic ones. They weren’t tied to a particular element, so anyone could cultivate them in theory. Theory, theory, theory. So much theory, and he didn’t know if he could do anything at all. Maybe it didn’t matter if his meridians recovered. Maybe John, who wasn’t even from this place, couldn’t do it. He hated that thought too.

As he left the library, he caught an uncomfortable shift out of the corner of his eye. As the young master of the Tenebach clan, he could take whatever he wanted from the library for however long he wanted. But perhaps Dionsio would like some assurances. He turned around and stepped back inside, placing his armful of selections on the desk. “I decided it was time to review some basics. You can let anyone looking for these particular works know they are in my hands.” Fortkran wouldn’t have said they could come talk to him and he would give it to them, so John didn’t either. On the other hand, Fortkran had borrowed some books that never made it back to the library… and John was going to make sure they did. Or at least any he could still track down.