An Immortal's Retirement: To Achieve Peace

"Just check the bag," the old man told Cai.

His journey hadn’t worn him out, but the sect politics preceding it had definitely taxed his patience. It seemed as if the world had turned against him during the past few days, and this pestering mortal was only the latest punishment the Dao had brought down upon him.

"Old man," Cai spoke, almost spitting out the words this time.

"You do not understand what you are talking about. I am telling you to forget this foolish plan of yours. You can lie about being a cultivator but if you can’t even convince me, what hope do you have of convincing The Flowering Sword Sect?"

"You know if you just looked in that bag-"

"I will not entertain your idiocracy. Leave," Cai spoke, this time sending a wave of his aura along with the statement. Strangely enough, the old man stood unfazed and looked back at him entirely unaffected.

Cai frowned. Most mortals would have collapsed into a frightened slumber with that move. Was this old fellow truly so insensitive to qi that even his aura had been unable to affect him? Truly, this was a blind man claiming to see a mile away.

"Look kid, I don’t want to be a bother, but if you would just listen to what I have to say then we could clear up this whole thing. If you would just look in the bag-"

Cai swung around, his hand resting on his blade. Maybe it was the journey through the mountains or the recent behavior of his sect. Maybe it was how confident this old man seemed in his delusions, or maybe it was just his violent bastard of father’s blood. But something in that moment made him willing to put this deluded man down.

"Old man, I will say this only once. Leave me be, or pay the full price of your delusions."

The old man looked at him for a moment, scanning his body up and down.

"You want to fight me?" He said in an almost laughing manner.

If Cai was a lesser man, he would have cut down the mortal for his insolence right then and there. But no, Cai wouldn’t kill this man. That was the way of lesser cultivators, those with more pride than morales.

"Being challenged to a fight inside of a restaurant," the old man muttered.

"It’s like I’m a child again. Alright, come on this way, kid. Can’t go around wrecking the tables and buildings of innocent business owners now can we?"

Cai watched as the old man walked out through the front door. He smirked at the man’s decisiveness, mortal or not, courage had to be acknowledged when it was shown. But it was unfortunate that the old man’s courage would lead him to a week’s worth of injuries.

He wouldn’t maim the poor old thing, no, nothing that serious. Some mortals could barely recover from a dull blade’s cut. And a mortal as old as that fellow, somewhere around his late thirties if Cai had to guess, would have an even smaller chance of surviving any harsh punishment Cai would give him.

He would dislocate a shoulder or give the man a bloody nose. Something to shatter the idiot’s ego and teach him not to try these shenanigans on anyone else. After all, better for the child to touch a hot pot and live than to be burnt by the fire.

Cai followed behind the old man, keeping pace with the fellow. He saw people staring out from their homes as they walked by, even though most of them tried to hide it. He even saw something extremely rare in mortal villages. Children, he saw a group of children being guarded by a very old man with a scythe. The kids looked terrified and impressed at the same time, and the man just stood there and glared at him.

A mortal. Glaring. At him. Truly, this village was an affront to reason. If one old man wouldn’t get all the mortals killed then surely the other one would.

Cai sighed in disdain, what a lucky group of idiots this place was full of. The village was already so far out of the way that even Cai himself was considering not coming here. The only reason he’d chosen to do so was to extend his time away from the sect and all that surrounded it.

Cai’s aura moved as he pressed it down onto the scythe-carrying fellow. Unlike his "fellow cultivator," this one had a reaction. The scythe-carrying man stepped back wearily, before raising his scythe and glaring even harder at Cai, seeming to contemplate swinging it.

Truly, all of these men were mad beyond reason. If it had been any other cultivator they would have been cut down a thousand times over. He didn’t cultivate the Dao of luck, but if he did then there must have been something blessed about this place to keep these villagers alive for so long. Especially with this plot of land being connected to all five major sects.

The Dao knew the evils that the Hollow Echo Sect enacted on mortals who even looked at them, much less those who would glare at them like this. And it was a miracle of the Dao itself that none of its sinful cultivators had stepped into this village. Surely, this land was miraculous and these people were blessed.

"Here we are," the old man spoke, breaking Cai’s thoughts.

Cai had been absent-mindedly following the fellow’s lead and found himself on a small plot of land right outside the village.

"Alright kid," the old man said.

"You wanna show me what you got? Here, I’ll do you one better and play mortal. No qi no nothing, eh? Just good old mortal reflexes."

Cai didn’t know if it was the way the sun hit the man’s figure or the way the robe hung limply on his body, without any care for style or tradition. But for a moment, for a brief and idiotic second, he almost believed the man was a cultivator.

Cai snorted.

The old man’s delusions must have been powerful enough to leap out of his head and into mines.

Cai raised his head, studying the old man’s posture for a second. The old man stood there, his arms hanging by his side and his legs supporting him as if he was just standing there. There was nothing there, no qi, no technique, not even the slightest hint of battle experience.

Cai sighed, a little disappointed in himself for what he was about to do.

Then, he moved. A quick burst of strength ran through his legs as he propelled himself towards the man, arm outstretched to grab him by the shoulder. The old man was within Cai’s reach and Cai grabbed, but he found that there was only air. He turned, looking for the old man’s face, but he saw only the ground approaching him.

There was a light thump as a bewildered Cai hit the floor. He stayed there for a moment, utterly confused at what had happened. What had happened? Where had the old man gone? And more importantly, how had Cai ended up on the ground?

"You dropped something down there?" A voice called out to him from above.

"Maybe your ego?" The voice continued.

Cai turned to see the old man standing over him with an unconcerned look. He flipped, his hands propelling him off the ground and a few steps away from the man.

"What happened?" Cai demanded.

"Well, I could be wrong on this," the old man spoke. "But to me, it looks like you ate shit."

Cai furrowed his brow. This old man was crafty. Clearly, he had practiced some grappling techniques, and he had to be quite good at them to overturn Cai so easily.

No wonder he was so egotistical, Cai thought.

But still, Cai pushed his hands against the ground and propelled his body into a standing position. If it was fighting techniques the old man would use then so be it. Cultivators trained in more than just qi usage, and Cai was fairly capable with his hand as well, and even if he wasn’t, his qi-reinforced body would easily outmatch this fellow.

Cai readies his form, keeping his center of gravity close to the ground. Then, he charged. A burst of strength pushed him forward, but he made sure to keep his feet on the floor this time. He wouldn’t lose his balance this time.

An instant later, he found himself laying on his back staring up into the sky. He got up, quickly this time, and shot the old man a wary look.

"So you know some good grappling techniques then?" Cai asked.

The old man just stared at him with a slightly bemused expression.

Cai leaped as guided more by instincts than logic. He was fighting this time, his qi tunneling through his fist as he moved. At that moment, instead of attempting to subdue the man, he was trying to hurt him. But before Cai could even think about restraining himself, he felt his arm be redirected. A light force pressed the back of his knee and his body, and again descended downwards, onto his back this time.

Cai jumped, his mind processing the battle as it happened.

That’s what it is now, isn’t it? This is a battle.

He tried the old man again, but every attack seemed to hit nothing but air. Cai’s qi moved. This time his fists flew with fury. His arms moved so fast that even he had trouble seeing them, but he never even grazed the old man’s robe. He wasn’t dodging Cai’s attacks as much as he was guiding them away. His fists were like raindrops that rolled off the man before he could do any damage.

Cai jumped back a good distance from the old man, waiting for him to strike. He didn’t, he just gave him a tired look.

"Give up?"

"Not so," Cai replied.

"I was never a student of the fist," he said as he unsheathed his sword.

"The blade is the path I follow."

"That’s a cheesy line fella," the old man replied.

"I do not know this cheesy," Cai replied. "But you shall know my blade!"

With this, he started channeling the basics of the Flowering Sword Technique. Qi rippled throughout his body and bloomed into his sword. His limbs arranged themselves in a natural position.

This man had not been lying, he was indeed a hidden master, Cai thought.

And I have insulted him.

Cai’s resolution pushed against the seeds of fear. He had made a choice. He had drawn his sword.

Those who chopped at the tree knew that one day it might crush them under its weight. Such was the risk, such was the reward. Cai let out a sigh as he swung his blade with full force. The Flowering Blade Technique was a long-lasting one. It was one attack with a thousand strikes, and it was what had given the Flowering Sword Sect their fame and power.

Cai's sword blossomed, cutting a thousand times at the old man’s form. He was hoping for a strike at one of his clothes, maybe a graze on his limbs, but the blades touched only air. Even then Cai pushed, his qi roared through the sword as he rammed every last bit of energy into the technique. He needed something, anything to make his death a small victory.

But in the end, the old man stood untouched. Cai collapsed onto the ground, his qi spent and his energy drained. He wondered if he should beg, maybe promise favors on his sect’s behalf.

Nonsense. Cultivators were ruthless, he would have been maimed for challenging one of the sect elders to a sparring match, much less a full-on attack as he had with this man. He could not appease the wrath he’d summoned.

No, it was best to accept defeat, with honor and with dignity.

He closed his eyes and waited for eternal sleep

********

He passed out. The kid had attacked me like a rabid dog and passed out. What the hell, I was just trying to have some fun with the guy. I mean, he started it.

I frowned.

Maybe it would’ve been better to have flexed my aura or something.