Gareth woke up feeling...refreshed. He still woke up tired as his was a weariness borne from a lifetime of struggle: one night of the best rest would take that away, but it did help a lot. His body still ached to the bone and his muscles still felt horrendously stiff. Luckily a gloriously satisfying stretch sorted that out right-quick. He spent a few minutes just laying on his back, staring at the light wood ceiling with open, unpainted wooden cross beams that gave the place an unfinished rustic feel similar to ancient South African bushland architecture. For a long time he didn't think about anything, just lived in the moment and was happy with how rested he felt.

  Unfortunately, the call of nature could not be ignored so he tossed the covers to the side. On the desk he noticed a piece of paper, scrawled with elaborate calligraphy that he struggled to read given his near illiteracy.

  Picking it up, he tried to read it over.

  Gareth

  I have … to attend and … you could use the time to rest as much … . You will find clean clothes in the …, food in the kitchen down the … to the right, and a toilet room behind the second door on the left. Make yourself at home, I will … later. Your time is not your own, ……. this piece of paper please record how many push…, sit..., and pull…, you are able to do. There is a … room near the front door. … I want you to write down what, if any, … … you might be … in.

  Other than that, rest up and prepare yourself to work tomorrow.

  Regards

  Guanji Sun-stalker

  Deciding to go to the bathroom first, Gareth went into the hallway and opened the second sliding door on the left. Inside, he found a simple room with an ancient longdrop toilet. One would think in a society of magic that toiletry would have advanced a bit more. He quickly took care of business, then went hunting for the kitchen. It still felt illegal to be in someone else's home; so his steps were light, he went around corners carefully, and tried to avoid rummaging through the cupboards. He was guest, not a thief. That didn't stop him from memorising where all the crystal decanters and silverware were kept.

  It was a pretty nice kitchen, featuring a cast-iron hip-height stove, with a bottom oven that could accept wood for burning. A central island naturally drew the eye, as it was an artful display of craftsmanship and decadence: white jade inlaid into a light wood slab, which was carved with elegant swirls of rivers, lakes, and jungles. Where each person would sit was a natural looking lake for each person's plate. In the centre of the island rose a gorgeous mountain agonisingly detailed with forests, canyons, cliffs, and waterfalls... all fucking carved from white jade and wood. To tie it all together, a warm hanging mage-lamp resembled the sun above this land. It also acted as the kitchen's main light.

  Needless to say Gareth spent a solid twenty minutes fixated on the minute details of the central island, because it was an artwork that belonged in a museum. New-Joburg was a place that had lost all its physical history, replaced with digital museums one would visit with a BD, but all the actual art was gone. Those digital museums were all fabricated, expensive illusions of a product that doesn't exist anymore. Here, casually resting in a kitchen that likely had food spilled on it sometimes, was an artwork that would have had trillionaires fighting in a brutal bidding war.

  Gareth felt somewhat overwhelmed by it, so he just moved on and casually looked at the rest of the kitchen, purposefully not looking for detail and design purpose.

  Light wooden cupboards and countertops, painted a lime green, contrasted by dark green plates and cups, made the room seem very foresty. A parlour held various preserved goods, but he couldn't identify many of them since his preserved food had always come in cans: highly processed. He opened various cupboards and found plates, glasses, cups, with some gorgeous copper knives and forks. The last door, a large thing as tall as he was, opened to reveal a freezing interior.

  It's a fridge!

  He hadn't seen any electrical appliances so far, and looked for where it was plugged-in but found nothing. He looked closer and saw glyphs glowing along the edges of the fridge. Chalking it up to ‘cool strange magic’ he moved on.

  He found some bread, a few rusks, tea leaves with strainer, and a jar of dark red jam. It was one of his favourite breakfasts, so he lathered up the bread with jam, drank his tea and dipped his rusks into it to soak. This humble breakfast served to remind him that even decadence needed to be ignored in favour of practicality. So he monched his jam and bread, then got to work.

  He found a workout room. This was by far the best furnished room, in his humble opinion. Mirrors lined the western wall so that a person could check their technique. Weights and weight lifting equipment were all over the place, safely and neatly stored on shin-height steel racks and bars. A punching dummy stood menacingly in the south-eastern corner, out of the way. Two large squares took up most of the centre of the square room, one with a padded bamboo mat; the other hard-packed dirt. Most impressive by far though, were the racks and racks of weapons. Long-swords, short-swords, great-swords, scimitars, bastard swords, Falchions, Rapiers, and that was just the sword section. The knife and dagger section, held everything from throwing knives to what appeared like a fucking cleaver.

  Looks like even the kitchen staff needs to know how to fight. - Gareth thought.

  There were maces, morningstars, flails, quarter staffs, full staffs, spears, halberds and glaives.

  He didn't see any bows or targets, but this didn't seem like the right training space for those.

  Now, there are very few boys that didn't grow up imagining themselves fighting with mediaeval weapons. So, with a delighted giggle Gareth ran forward and picked up a cool looking sword.

  He inexpertly swung it around, quickly lost his balance due to its weight and malnutrition, and stumbled. Somehow, the tip managed to cut a shallow furrow along the top of his foot.

  "Kha! Fuck! Okay, let's not swing around dangerous weapons!" He screamed at himself.

  He gingerly replaced the sword in its stand and limped back to the kitchen to find a drying towel to stop the bleeding.

  As he sat there, nursing his foot, he came to the realisation that he was cleaner than he'd been in years, he didn't have to be that scared of infection because he'd washed his hands with soap, his nails were short and trimmed and clean, and the bandages he'd found in a cupboard were sterilised. It was a joy to tend his wound, however-much it stung.

  The cut on his foot was luckily not a deep one, and therefore required minimal care. With this little side-business done, he clapped his clean hands and went back into the training room!

  He started with what he guessed Master Guanji had wanted – sit-ups, pushups, and some pull-ups –

  I’m not entirely sure, Ian taught me very minimal reading as that wasn’t necessary for a slave, but I hope he wants a fitness test. – Gareth wondered to himself.

  -

  He quickly found out just how weak he was. Only five push-ups before his arms failed; ten sit-ups before his stomach cramped; nine squats until his legs shook; and he couldn't even do a single pull-up. It was very disheartening. He'd once been pretty fit, but being chained to a table and tortured for years at a time would degrade anyone’s physique. It felt nice though, to work on his body. So instead of stopping once he had done them all, he took a small break and did them again. And again. And again. He did four sets, each time he could do less and less, but he persevered. Even if he only did one pushup, it still felt like he was making progress.

  He didn't know how this whole ‘Body Cultivation’ thing worked, but he bet exercise helped.

  For so long he had been blown about by the whims of people more powerful than himself. This was his chance to take his fate into his own hands. To double down, and fucken get good!

  When Guanji returned later that day he found a passed out Gareth Elson in the training room. The sweat droplets he saw on the floor had long since dried out and left spots of salt. The place also stank of sweat and exertion, but it was the type that Guanji could respect. It was the smell of someone who had pushed their body beyond its limits in the pursuit of strength. He found the piece of paper and saw that Gareth was utterly unfit…and couldn't spell.

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  This ancient master had his work cut out for him, but Guanji was not one of the strongest cultivators in the empire for nothing. He actually valued the opportunity in Gareth because he was a blank slate.

  I likewise value a student who would push himself, without my urging. – He thought to himself as he cycled mana through his meridians. I could trim and bend this bonsai in any direction I please.

  Nobles often came to him and begged him to train their promising little shits, claiming them to be geniuses in the blade or espionage. Oftentimes, he would then have to break them down and have them unlearn all of their bad habits.

  Gareth stood as an opportunity to start from the bottom, and create something altogether of a better quality. He might just be unformed ore at the moment, but he was ore of an extremely high quality - something a master blacksmith was going to refine and forge.

  Margrave had told him of the boy's immortality, and while Guanji could sympathise with his experiences over the last few years, he could also recognise that someone who had faced these hardship often had the most greatest motivation to improve.

  If he coddled Gareth now, he would only become lazy. He would need to carefully tread the line between pushing him hard, and pushing him too far. His body might be immortal but his mind was not. Should he push Gareth beyond the edge of stress, he might snap and become an immortal monster. Like a gnarled tree struck too many times by lightning, blackened with soot and scars, but alive.

  He picked up the young man and gently, tenderly carried him to the hotspring. He then caringly peeled off his sweat soaked clothes while showing him the decency of not looking. Carefully, like a mother eagle would push its young off the cliff, he plopped Gareth into the water.

  Water splashed everywhere as Gareth sputtered and gasped for breath, "Wha- who- whe-" he quickly sat up in the bath and looked around, bewildered.

  "Welcome, apprentice, to your first day under my care. You must have been really tired to have slept for two whole cycles. But then I return to find you once again…sleeping. No more.”

  He clasped his hands as if in mock sympathy, “Your time is now mine, and my time is precious. Not to be wasted by sleep and frivolity. Until I am happy enough to release you as my charge, you. Are. Mine. Wash up, dry down, and meet me back in the training room."

  With that he spun and strode out, leaving Gareth to stare behind him in bewilderment.

  Gareth

  As he looked around to try and orient himself, he heard a faint voice call from the hallway, "You have 5 minutes to finish, else I will have you doing exercises in the rain!"

  Wondering whether or not he should test him, Gareth rather decided to start this off on the right foot.

  He quickly washed, more of a rinse really, and hastily hobbled to what he assumed was his room. Gareth stumbled across the room, bumping into things as he struggled to get into dry clothes. His body burned with lactic acid each time he tried lifting his leg or arm. His core was tight and his upper back burned.

  He stumbled back down the hallway, as quickly as his jelly legs would allow, and found Guanji sitting in the centre of the bamboo mat.

  He studied Master Guanji’s face as he walked up.

  His eyes were a striking red, bright and expressive, framed by thick brows that arch minimally. His nose was straight and refined, giving his profile a clean, balanced look.

  "You are late. After our discussion you will spend the next three hours training outside. Now sit."

  Gareth hurried to comply but as he tried to sit his legs gave out, and he ungracefully fell on his back.

  His core muscles were likewise jelly, so he had to roll onto his side and wiggle himself into an upright position.

  He looked into Gaunji's ruby eyes to see him trying to stifle his laughter.

  "Hrm." He cleared his throat, “To start with, I would like to address the description you gave of your world yesterday..." Guanji took a moment to organise his thoughts, "I have thought long and hard about what I should say on it, and it is this: Our worlds are perhaps superficially different, but they are still very much the same in some regards, and I do not wish for you to make incorrect assumptions.

  Those who are born into wealth have an inherent advantage: their wealth affords them power, and in a society of ‘might makes right’, they have the strength to support their advantage. You will have to be extremely careful to not offend anyone who has a tier advantage against you. While it is heavily frowned upon to hit down a tier or two, it is not illegal, and arrogant young masters will often be petty if they grew up with servants and power.

  That said; this world possesses opportunities for growth that you would not believe. If you cannot afford cultivation resources, it is still possible for you to improve your skill mastery to a degree where tier becomes irrelevant. A tier 1 sage swordsman with a good talent would still likely beat a tier 5 apprentice. Moreover, Shekaron The Beneficent hides treasures all across the wilds, just waiting to be found. Rifts, Labyrinths, and natural resources allow a cultivator to grow enormously quickly. If they are brave and smart. I believe you to be both. Now, what path have you chosen?"

  "I chose Elemental cultivation, I think, not formally on The System or anything. But based on what Ivor said, I think I want that path. I… I would also like to talk about what the Oni did to me. These rune scars aren't fading and…I always heal. Fully. Ivor said he would bring it up but never did."

  His eyes sharpened, and Gareth realised just how dangerous the man in front of him was, "You should elaborate, Gareth. Demons altering people is not unheard of, and it is always dangerous."

  Gareth hurried to explain what had happened and that he’d denied the curse, but these scars stayed.

  "Let me see your character sheet." He barked, all pretence of friendliness disappearing from his face.

  "How do I do that?" Gareth tried to keep his cool, not trying to panic that Guanji might turn on him.

  "Open your character sheet and will it to turn towards me, the System will do the rest."

  His tenor lost some bite, but was still very intense. Gareth did so, and Guanji spent a long time looking through it, his eyes squinted occasionally.

  Name: Gareth Elson

  Race: Human

  Level: 0

  Cultivation Path: Not chosen. [Please choose a path]

  Traits (Passive):

  Blessed by life: As an extra-dimensional traveler, the Elder gods have granted you the [Blessed by Life] trait. You are physically immortal and will regenerate from all physical injuries, age, and diseases if provided with sufficient time and resources. Regeneration rate: -85% due to nutrient deficiency and malnutrition.

  Nutrient Deficiency: Rate of natural regeneration -100%

  Demonic infusion: Your body has been slightly tempered by Demonic mana. You have gained resistance to demonic mana. (1/?)

  Stormic Infusion: Your Skin, Muscles, and Tendons have been tempered by Stormic mana. Your eyes have received a partial forging. You have gained resistance to stormic mana. Your body will passively absorb atmospheric storm mana. Directed attacks you make, will now be infused with 5% Stormic mana.(3/?)

  "This is most unusual." Guanji said at length.

  "I know, right? It doesn't say anything changed beyond the tempering but evidently something is different." Gareth asked apprehensively.

  "Curses are rare. They are usually outright lethal, so their cures are often impossible to study.” Guanji’s posture was upright, his back intimidatingly straight. “On the bright side, there are documented methods of treating curses, but they might not be necessary since your system was flushed with storm mana. It is also possible that the runes in your skin are dormant without Demonic mana. We need to perhaps visit a rune scrivener and ask their opinion of the matter."

  “I hope so, it's kinda freakin' me out here.” Gareth laughed nervously.

  Guanji cocked his head curiously.

  “I have not heard that turn of phrase before, but it is not inaccurate.” He sighed as if tired, “This is not the discussion I wanted to start our first session with, but it was necessary. We will therefore table that discussion for later. I would firstly like to address your lack of knowledge on cultivation.”

  From seemingly out of his sleeve pocket he passed Gareth three large books, “You will be reading this in your free time. The first is a dictionary, the second a tablet that will teach you the basic grammar and spelling rules of our language, and the third is a more comprehensive guide to cultivation basics.”

  He handed all three to Gareth, leaned back, and settled in, “Cultivation is a complicated system of interconnected subjects, each with their own rules and methods. I would therefore recommend you retrieve both the quill and notebook from your desk drawer."

  "That might be a good idea." Gareth said and scurried back to his room. He felt a small shiver of happiness for having his own room again and retrieved what amounted to a notebook and pen while stowing his new books and jade tablet.

  Sitting before Guanji again, Gareth opened everything, and dipped the quill. Here's hoping it's not much harder than a stylus – Gareth thought and nodded for Guanji to start.