Maksym Pachesiuk
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Moon Cultivation - Chapter 10: Glimpse of the Past
🕑 Added 2025-03-10 13:07:49 +0000 UTCOn the way back, I finally figured out the navigator. Turned out, it wasn’t complicated at all.
I’d just been using the full-screen map mode before, which completely blocked my view and blended annoyingly with my surroundings. But in compact mode, the holographic display shrank down to about the size of both my palms and hovered somewhere on the periphery—off to the side, easy to glance at without constant distraction.
It was, quite literally, a mini-map from a video game. Even better, I could enable a route guide, and glowing blue arrows would light up on the floor, showing me exactly where to go.
By the time we got back, Bao was already in the room—meditating with his crystal.
A much smaller one this time.
"Assembly in two minutes. All cadets, take your positions!"
The announcement popped up in my interface.
Even Bao reacted. He quickly sealed the crystal inside a container like the one the doc had and tossed it into his locker.
I dumped my meager belongings inside mine as well.
"Where exactly are our positions?" I asked.
"Right outside the door," Denis replied, stepping out behind Bao.
Cadets lined up in two rows—backs to their dorm doors, facing the row across from them.
I quickly sized up the scale of it.
There were about twenty rooms in our corridor, meaning around eighty cadets total. With two and a half thousand first-years, did that mean similar assemblies were happening throughout the dormitory? Or were supervisors making their rounds from block to block?
I glanced around.
Bao was trying to look more important than Denis—but no matter how much he puffed himself up, Denis still overshadowed him with sheer physical presence. Marlon… was as unreadable as ever. The cadets across from us? A full spectrum of emotions—though, unlike the waiting hall, no one was crying this time.
A few seconds later, our supervisor appeared.
He was an Asian lad, lean, of average height, but his movements were precise and controlled—an immediate sign he was no amateur. The double threes on his collar confirmed it. His green hair was tied into a short ponytail.
Was this a fashion trend, or was that his natural color?
His sharp, narrow eyes swept across the rows. He walked nearly to the end of the corridor, checked his tablet, then returned to the middle.
"I am Liang Shi," he announced, clasping his hands behind his back, tablet in one of them.
"I’m responsible for this block. And for the geniuses among you—this block means this exact corridor." He jabbed a finger at the floor.
"I’m not your nanny, and I’m not your friend. But I’m not your enemy either. I only care about cleanliness and discipline. Maintain order, and we won’t have daily assemblies. This isn’t the Army and Fleet Academy, after all. We’re not here for pointless daily drills."
A quiet chuckle rippled through the ranks.
"Aside from situations where you or the academy administration force me to hold assemblies, there will be two exceptions. First—tomorrow’s trip to the Flow Chambers."
A murmur spread through the cadets. Seemed like everyone, without exception, had been waiting for that.
"Quiet!"
The supervisor’s tone cut through the noise.
"Second—armor fitting at the end of the week."
This time, no one interrupted, so he continued.
"By the end of the week, all of you must sign up for mandatory maintenance duty. If you don’t, you’ll receive penalty points."
A few cadets couldn’t suppress their groans.
Liang snorted in disdain.
"Oh, quit whining. Right now, it’s the only way you can earn bonus points. Don’t want to do it? Fine—your choice. But that’s minus five points for every second day you skip."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bao Fen grinning to himself. That was unexpected. If there was anyone I wouldn’t peg as eager to work, it was him.
Liang took a few more steps up and down the corridor before making another announcement.
"I’m not going to stand around here all day dealing with every little issue personally. To keep things from turning into chaos, I’m appointing six assistants. They will act as an extension of my will and serve as your direct line of communication with me.
"I do not answer personal messages from first-years. One more time: the only things that concern me are discipline and cleanliness. Any other issues—take them to your mentors."
He glanced at his tablet and read off the names.
"Lin Jiao, Rainer Kowalski, Sun Hao, Bao Fen, Eric Dubois, Omar Said. Assistants—come with me. The rest of you—dismissed."
We headed back to our room, and as soon as the door shut behind us, Denis let out a dry chuckle.
"Guarantee you, they’re getting extra points for that ‘job.’" He flopped onto his bed, hands behind his head. "Gotta love having a daddy in the right places."
"I just hope his little promotion doesn’t come back to bite us." I said.
"You think he’d screw over his own roommates?" Denis asked.
"Hell if I know. Maybe not—if we don’t give him a reason to."
"Well, I’m not about to start kissing his ass." Denis stated firmly.
I didn’t push the topic further. I wasn’t about to kiss his ass either. If I had the chance, I’d just stay the hell away from Bao altogether.
"What’s next on the agenda?" I asked.
"Personally, I’m checking what jobs are available and picking the one with the best rewards," Denis said.
"Better pick a good mentor," Marlon advised, his usual quiet tone carrying weight. "A solid mentor is the key to success. And you," he turned to me, "check that technique card."
Oh, right!
I grabbed the cards from my locker, picked up my tablet, and started turning it over, looking for a slot. Marlon pointed to the left edge, near the top corner. Obviously, the guys were waiting for me to try the orange one first. I wasn’t about to disappoint them.
As soon as I inserted the card, an orange-bordered prompt appeared on the screen:
Stone Dart I
Version D.1.28.35
Earth Technique
Do you wish to download?
Yes / No
"Ha!" Marlon clapped me on the shoulder, looking almost sympathetic.
"What is it?" Denis asked.
"Earth."
"Shit… condolences."
"Okay, orphan-with-amnesia explanation time!" I demanded. "Is this reaction because my main root is Fist?"
Marlon spoke up.
"In Black Lotus School, Earth techniques aren’t taught. The school specializes in Air and Wood; Mace, Point, Fist, and Palm. Even if you manage to learn that technique, growing Earth root will be hell. We don’t even have an earth garden."
That was the longest I’d heard Marlon talk so far.
"So, should I avoid downloading it? Not even just to take a look?"
"Absolutely not!" Denis cut in. "You can’t just ‘take a look.’ If it’s a licensed copy—and it does look like one—downloading it will erase the card. Better check it in the library first."
"And if it turns out to be pirated?"
Denis glanced at Marlon, but he just pulled a face that clearly said, Hell if I know.
I pulled the card out and tossed it back into my locker.
"What’s an Earth Garden?" I asked right away, saving myself an extra journal entry. Hopefully, the answer wouldn’t take too long.
"An Earth Garden is a place for cultivating earth qi. Some cultivators practice earth techniques there, saturating the environment with it, while others meditate, absorbing the qi to strengthen their affinity with it—essentially growing their root."
"But doc said roots grow from essence…" I recalled.
"Which is made from the fruits of the garden," Marlon added, "literally from the plants that grow there and absorb that specific qi."
"And that’s different from the qi Bao was pulling from his crystal?"
"It’s like the difference between flour and a croissant," Denis joked.
Marlon, surprisingly, nodded in agreement.
"So, basic qi is a raw material, while Earth qi or Fist qi is a finished product," I concluded.
"More like—raw qi is the base ingredient. In Denis’s analogy, not flour, but raw grain," Marlon corrected. "Qii has natural variations too. If you find a place with a natural concentration or the right kind of crystal and cultivate specifically with that qi, you can develop a root. Our academy doesn’t specialize in these six roots by accident—there’s simply more of that type of qi in the area."
I caved and opened my notes. Specific qi and roots (root growth and essence). Definitely something I needed to study in more detail.
For now, the guys waited while I inserted the next memory card. It looked completely normal, so it shouldn’t contain any techniques, but still… It was password-locked. Off to the locker it went, right after the first one.
The guys lost interest and sprawled out on their beds, busying themselves with their tablets. I decided to do the same.
Marlon showed me where the browser was, and I dove into the web, searching for info on schools. Here’s what I found:
Yellow Pine School was almost our direct opposite. We both specialized in Wood, but they focused on Water, Lightning, Earth, Blade, and Finger. The school was famous for its swordsmen.
Spirit Temple studied all spiritual roots, plus Palm.
Army & Fleet Academy didn’t study spiritual roots at all. They also ignored Palm from the combat branches.
Looked like Spirit Temple and the military didn’t get along too well. Spirit Temple had a reputation for being nerds, while Army & Fleet cadets were considered meatheads.
Meanwhile, our school and Yellow Pine had a good relationship—regular exchange programs and joint training.
Beyond the big academies, there were tons of smaller research institutes focused on one or two specific roots and the techniques that combined them.
So, I’d expanded my knowledge of this world… But the research had eaten up all my time until lunch, leaving me with the nagging feeling I’d wasted it.
Bao, on the other hand, had latched onto his crystal the moment he got back. Now, he was starting to glance at me condescendingly.
I checked the cultivator rankings.
Bao had climbed one spot to 51st place with 39/2845. Meanwhile, I had dropped all the way down to 87th, sitting at 27/2467.
Just how many cadets had rich parents buying them crystals?! And why the hell was my level dropping?! I ended up messaging the doc.
His reply? "That’s normal."
That was it. No explanation, no elaboration—just "that’s normal." Annoyed, I headed to lunch in a less-than-cheerful mood. At least I had the bank card with me. After choking down some salads and sour-tasting meat patties, I set off for the bank branch to sort things out. Now that I’d figured out the navigator, getting there wasn’t as daunting.
The entire branch was fully automated—nothing but touchscreens for interface access, monitors looping advertisements, and not a single human in sight. Apparently, keeping an actual cultivator stationed at reception was too much of a luxury. The AI, on the other hand, was impressively advanced. The digital girl on the screen quickly understood my problem, cross-referenced her databases, sent a request to the medical AI, and linked the account to my interface.
My balance? Just under 20,000 units. That was the local currency. Or, in other words—less than two hours in the Flow Chamber. A nasty suspicion crept into my mind. The original Jake? He probably wouldn’t have made it through the culling process.
Would I?
Guess we’d find out.
Comments
Jonathan Griffith
Tyftc!
