Immortal Freeloader 122 (Patreon)

My guide didn’t say a lot even as he led me inside the formation, allowing me to get a better view of the valley I had been led into. I noticed a secondary formation inside, which was clearly stronger than the outer formation. It was surrounded by some kind of light effect to prevent anyone from seeing inside, but the presence of multiple cultivators coming in and out was unmistakable.

Luckily, they were merely Qi Gathering cultivators, obvious even from a distance. As much as I was confident battling with Foundation Establishment cultivators, it needed to happen in an area under my control for it to happen without creating a bigger disaster than I was willing to deal with.

So, the fact that the base wasn’t teeming with Foundation Establishment cultivators worked well for me.

I turned my attention to the layout of the outer ring. It wasn’t as crowded as I expected. I could see about a thousand people, most of them training while a minority dealt with the logistic tasks. The numbers were not intimidating, even though a majority of them were in the Bone Forging realm — their incompetent movements suggesting they were raised mostly by pills.

However, I didn’t let that underestimate the operation. There were more than three hundred buildings, most still under construction with only two looked like in use.

Meaning, they were planning to increase the number somewhere above a hundred thousand. A dangerous number of martial artists even if they were weak Connate Realm artists raised by pills. And, the technique in mind told me that it wasn’t the limit those martial artists could reach.

No, whatever that was going on here, even if this was the only base, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

As my guide brought me toward one of the trainers, I watched the trainees, learning their arts. The first thing I took note, they weren’t learning the saber technique in my mind. Instead, it was a fist art. It still had Everdawn Empire as a totem, that much was obvious — well, obvious to my expert assessment, I doubt anyone else could catch it easily — but other than that, everything was different.

My guide brought me to a small tent. “Get down,” he said and moved away the moment I did so.

“Come in,” the voice called from the tent. I followed the order, and saw a middle-aged man sitting on a cushion.

“So, you’re the new recruit,” he spoke as he looked at me, assessing me like a butcher measuring a cow.

“Yes, master,” I replied as I stood in front of him, making sure to put enough respect and awe into my tone. After all, they were looking to raise a disposable army. I needed to convince them that I was a good peon.

“Give me your hand,” he said. I did so, and he checked my pulse. A basic apothecary technique, though thanks to supernatural abilities, even a mediocre apothecary gathered more information through it than an X-ray. Knowing what they were looking for, I hid any sign that I had practiced martial arts once again, glad that they didn’t send a cultivator for the test.

I had taken certain measures against that, but I prefer not to test them unless it was necessary.

I checked him in turn and saw that he was yet another Tiger Fist expert, Connate Realm. A pretty strong one if his essence was any indicator. “You have the talent,” he said, his eyes bright, but a frown followed. “How did you never learn martial arts.”

“No … no one would teach an orphan martial arts in my village, master,” I said.

“You should have found a way,” he replied, his disdain clear. I made a show of wilting. “Still, it doesn’t matter. You’re lucky that you’re learning under a true master. Follow me. I’ll train you myself. Your talent deserves nothing less.”

Interesting distinction, but I wasn’t surprised I got a private trainer. The effort they had put into my transformation had been enough. Now, I just needed a way to slow things down, one that wouldn’t be too suspicious.

I decided to undersell my comprehension.

It was a smart idea. After all, up until now, they were focused on my physical talent, which was mostly about the speed a body could adapt to essence, have breakthroughs, and convert food and pills into usable energy.

Comprehension was related to the speed one learned the techniques. It was a good way to delay things for two reasons. First, they clearly didn’t value my comprehension too much, or they would have tried to test it before using a cultivator to move me around.

Not to mention the fact that being stupid fitted well with my fake peasant background. If it could get a few insults or pitying looks in the process, even better. I just needed to make sure I didn’t overdo it to turn myself completely useless.

“Listen carefully. This technique is called Everdawn Fist, and it represents the freedom and strength of the people, one that represents not only your power, but the ability to protect everyone. It represents the promise of a nation, one where everyone would be free, and no one would go hungry.”

“I-is such a thing even possible,” I gasped, playing the gullible peasants. “The city lords—”

“Are nothing. Even the kings and immortals are nothing,” he said, and unfurled a picture, one that showed a drawing of the Empire’s sigil, a stylized sun above a mountain. “This is the Symbol of Everdawn, the crystallization of our hopes and dreams. The mountain represents the bones of our strength, and the sun shows our endless hopes.”

“With this, we’ll carve a path through the world, and show them that we mortals are not to be stopped…”

What followed was a long, boring lecture that lasted an hour and was delivered entirely in shouts, where I had to stand for the whole duration. The lecture could be summarized as Everdawn’s amazing superiority that would give me a lot of power and freedom, with absolutely no side effects, and any wound that I would receive would be entirely heroic, and fetching to the ladies.

It was mostly a mixture of military propaganda and religious sermons, which didn’t surprise me. He wanted to solidify the concept of Everdawn while fostering a sense of loyalty. A bit heavy-handed, but understandable considering he believed he was speaking to a gullible peasant.

“Do you accept the grace of Everdawn Nation?” he finally asked.

“Yes, master,” I said as I knelt.

“Good, then swear,” he said. As he said that, two martial artists walked into the tent, one on each side of me, and flared their essence as they put their hands on my shoulders. I tensed for a moment, especially since they were Connate Realm martial artists. However, they did nothing.

I realized it was just a way to familiarize me with the essence, crude, but effective.

I repeated the oath, which was once again pointlessly long. However, I was glad for the length this time, because it finally gave me a chance to examine the Everdawn Essence.

And, the results were … interesting.

The first thing I noticed was the weakness of the essence. It was showy and bright, but spiritually, it was very weak. It was nowhere as strong as the essence that even a first-time Tiger Fist user could gather, let alone compared to the intense energy of the Black Tiger onslaught.

The way they were, I sincerely doubted that they could even fight against an ordinary Skin Refinement martial artist.

It was not even as strong as the Forest essence I had first generated, before I discovered how to add conceptual weight to the martial art practice. Yet, its weakness wasn’t a surprise. After all, its reliance was an empire that currently did not exist.

That fact alone gave me a good idea about their plans. It was clear that their existence was more about creating and empowering the spiritual pillar than actually fighting.

Of course, that didn’t mean my mission was over. I still needed to get a better understanding of the exact process, particularly the role those sabotaged stone gates had been playing.

“Do you swear to always hold true to your oath,” he said.

“I do,” I promised, not particularly caring about a false oath, particularly since the oath itself was to a nonsense. I might have been more careful if the oath actually mentioned Everdawn Empire directly — there was something funky about oaths in this world — but swearing to a false entity, based on false principles, was not a threat.

“Good. Now, stand up, disciple of Everdawn, and fight for our nation!” he declared. “Now, let’s teach you our martial art,” he said, which started a three-hour torture … for him, as I played the slow and stupid student to the limit, making sure he was frustrated, but not hopeless.

It wasn’t as hard as I feared, my seemingly absolute lack of education making things very easy. Too bad it didn’t trigger the System, as I would have loved a System-boosted lesson, but it couldn’t be helped.

Then, he finally surrendered, and a guard. “Bring him to the barracks. Tomorrow, he can join the training with the rest. And, assign someone to teach him how to read.”

The guard saluted before leaving, and I followed.

 It was time to see if I could get some rewards from my fellow disciples.