Lassim took a deep breath then decided to explore and get more familiar with the sect. Then, he would see if he could find an open training ground to observe and hopefully not get in trouble for watching.
The sect itself was a massive city, with towering buildings, bustling streets, and a diverse array of shops and establishments as he began the slow trek around.
He took a closer look at the architecture as he saw the different shops and buildings.
The overhead flashes of lightning lit up and highlighted the intricate carvings and ornate lightning runes that adorned and labeled the buildings.
He wandered through the main avenues, his eyes wide and spirit sense extended as he took in the sights.
Lassim saw the shops lined the streets, offering everything from rare cultivation materials to exquisite weapons and artifacts.
One store had an open front with all of their plants in various sized pots out front. The air was filled with the scent of various herbs and the sounds of a worker clipping and trimming some of the leaves.
Sect disciples of all different ranks moved about with purpose, their robes a myriad of accent colors that indicated their rank. The most common he saw seemed to be the gray and light gray accents.
Eager to finally go inside and see what the shops had to offer, Lassim approached the first one that caught his eye.
The shop’s exterior was adorned with intricate carvings of mystical beasts, and a soft glow emanated from within. The rune lettering just named it "Beast’s Retreat".
Unclear of what was held within, he stepped inside. He was greeted by the sight of shelves lined with gleaming vials and jars filled with preserved beast eggs.
The shopkeeper, a stern-looking woman with sharp eyes that was placing an egg jar on an empty shelf spot, quickly approached him.
"My apologies, but servant rank disciples must be escorted by an Elder to make any purchases," she said, her tone firm, yet with slight pity.. Her gaze lingered on his servant-colored robes.
Lassim nodded, feeling a mix of annoyance and understanding. "Thank you, I understand," he replied, stepping back out onto the street.
Undeterred, he decided to try another shop further down the road. He was determined to make the most of his exploration, even if it meant facing rejection. He wanted to see what shops and buildings were within the sect.
This next shop he attempted appeared to specialize in potions with a myriad of effects. The scent of various concoctions filled his nose as he entered the premises.
In his view were lines of delicate glass bottles filled with vibrant liquids lined inside large table racks with individual compartments to hold and display them. The top of the corks of each bottle were labeled with tags that wrapped around each neck, sealing the potions `but also displaying a written name and price for each.
However, as soon as he entered, a shop assistant approached him with the same message as the last business.
"Servant rank disciples must be escorted by an Elder to make any purchases," the shopkeeper repeated, a look of pity in his eyes. He was a tall, thin man with a friendly demeanor, but the policy was clearly non-negotiable.
Lassim sighed and left, feeling a bit more frustrated.
He continued to wander, admiring the architecture and the goods displayed in shop windows. He found a third shop that boasted exquisite arrays and artifacts to help with battle.
Lassim felt a surge of excitement as he stepped in. But once again, he was met with the same response from the shopkeeper.
"Servant rank disciples must be escorted by an Elder to make any purchases. Please take your leave." The shopkeeper, a burly man with a grizzled beard, looked at him with a mix of annoyance and sympathy.
By the time he reached the fourth shop, which sold some weaker rank cultivation manuals and scrolls that were non-competing with the sect’s library, Lassim had begun to anticipate the reaction.
The shopkeeper there, an elderly woman with kind eyes, gave him the same spiel as the others, her tone gentle but firm. It was sad, but he truly would have to try again in another 3 weeks.
Feeling dejected but determined to make the most of his exploration, Lassim decided to focus on other areas of the sect. Perhaps finding a training arena with an elder giving a lecture could hold to be more promising.
After a bit of walking around some further, Lassim found himself at the edge of a training ground that was particularly noisy and active. The open, courtyard style arena was bustling with activity, and he could see several cultivators engaged in sparring duels.
He lingered at the edge of the training ground, watching intently. The cultivators here were at the Spirit Ascension stage, and their techniques were on a level of complexity and magic that he aspired to reach.
He had been mostly ignored by the lecturer at the center of the training grounds, but the lesson soon ended after arriving as it was getting late. Lassim made a mental note to return the next morning to observe more closely, hoping to gain some insights into the barrier preventing him in his breakthrough to the Spirit Ascension stage.
~~~
The next morning, Lassim woke up early, his mind buzzing with anticipation. He quickly dressed and skipped breakfast as he made his way to the training ground he had discovered the previous evening.
The air was humid and warm as the storm brewed lightly, awakening for the morning. The streets were quieter at this early hour and the usual bustle he’d noticed after leaving the residence after breakfast was replaced by a serene calm.
As he approached the training ground, he saw that luckily a lecture was already in progress.
A sect elder, the same one from yesterday night, stood at the center addressing a group of disciples.
The elder was quite average in appearance, not too old or too young, with a perfectly middle-aged look. What stood out, however, was his purple hair and the purple mustache that curled at the ends. It was a quite well groomed mustache.
The training ground was surrounded by a low stone fence to which Lassim somewhat hid behind but looked over.
The elder’s voice carried easily across the area, "The key to mastering the lightning element within your own techniques is understanding how to use its nature best," the elder said, his voice carrying a weight of wisdom. "It is both destructive and swift, but also capable of more under extremely precise control.
You can learn even healing lightning or tribulation lightning with the proper control and imagination. Focus on your technique’s books and try to reach an initial level of mastery before the next dimensional trial begins in three months."
Lassim listened intently, his mind racing with thoughts and speculations, more towards battle arts than anything related to the Spirit Ascension stage.
The elder demonstrated some various techniques with a mid-length sword, his movements fluid and powerful.
He summoned lightning with a mere flick of his wrist, the crackling energy dancing across his blade’s edge before dispersing into the target dummy at the edge of the arena. The disciples watched in contemplation, with some not fully paying attention, while Lassim focused on every detail in hopes of gleaning some understanding from the elder’s demonstration.
As the elder continued his lecture, he called upon a few of the disciples to demonstrate their techniques.
One by one, they stepped forward, each showcasing a unique approach to wielding the lightning element with different weapons.
Lassim watched as a young woman, her straight lavender hair tied back in a tight braid, performed a series of intricate maneuvers with a bo staff. Lightning crackled around her as she moved, but then she quickly disappeared.
In her place, three mirror images of static lightning of her own body appeared for a brief moment before they all exploded before she fell down from the sky and attacked the floor of the arena with her staff slamming against it.
The elder gave her some advice on how to improve the technique, moving the corporealness of the lightning decoys into more realism by not leaking the lightning energy as much.
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Another disciple, a tall man with a sturdy build, demonstrated a more brute force technique with a two-handed mace. He summoned a bolt of lightning that struck the ground with a deafening crack, sending a shower of sparks into the air that quickly turned into an ever growing dome that slowly spun out of control and fizzled out.
Lassim noticed the ground where the lightning had struck was scorched by the initial slam too.
The elder sighed and said, "As I mentioned, the balance of power needs to be weighed equally with control. This is essential for the mid-grade techniques you are all trying to master in this course," the elder reiterated. "You must learn to harness the raw energy of lightning and channel it with precision! You let the dome of lightning grow too quickly and it escaped your grasp."
As the lecture continued, Lassim felt a presence in his mind. Mari, his elemental spirit, was also watching and speculating alongside him. "[We should think about how to apply this power and control into our techniques]," she whispered in his mind.
"[Seeing their creative use of these ’mid-grade techniques’, as he calls them, there might be something here that can help us with the halberd technique or even the progenitor markings?]"