I couldn’t stop thinking about those two idiots. One obsessed with speed, the other with strength. And it wasn’t enough for them just to argue — they nearly came to blows over which technique was more "correct" to start with. They could’ve each learned one and then tested them out. I was lucky I hadn’t seriously hurt that dark-skinned guy. Now I felt ashamed of how badly I’d wanted to show off. Still, the question lingered.
I myself... chose the speed-based technique. Why?
Because Doc recommended it? Because it looked cool?
I lay back on my bed, staring at Marlon’s shelf above me. My shift on order patrol was nearly over, but my thoughts kept spinning — thought after thought. Just like my Chain Punch.
Eventually, I decided to be honest with myself. I picked Chain Punch because the flurry of blows looked like a machine gun burst. Ironically, their power was nowhere near that destructive. According to Rene, even that "weak" technique could tear my fingers off if I executed it wrong. So what could a more powerful technique do? What would it look like to lose control of your qi mid-Ogre Fist performance?
Or maybe it wasn’t about power. Maybe I wouldn’t have lost control with Ogre Fist at all. Maybe it was something unique to Chain Punch — its very nature pulling you forward, not letting you stop. It was made for relentless combat.
Maybe if I’d picked a stronger technique — even an ultimate one — I might’ve found it easier to stop. Or blown my fists off on the first go.
I exhaled and rubbed my face with both hands. I couldn’t figure it out alone. Well, that’s what mentors are for. I opened the interface and called Kate: three long rings. Then the system politely informed me the recipient was temporarily unavailable.
Of course — she’s either in the pod or having other procedures with that creepy arm of hers. Hope it's growing well.
Who else could I ask?
Doc? Best not to bother him — he’s busy brewing elixirs.
Vaclav? He’s wise enough for ten people, but asking him about something this trivial is terrifying.
Got it!
Outgoing call: L. S. Kawesh
Accept / Decline
“Hello?” Lina’s voice had the same mocking tone as always. But there was a trace of curiosity in it. “This has to be something interesting if you’re calling me.”
“A practical-philosophical question,” I replied. “Why do people choose certain techniques? Is it better to start with a fast one, or go for something heavy? I picked a fast one. Just trusted the advice. But recently I heard a totally different view – that you should start with something powerful…”
“It’s the eternal question – like the chicken and the egg. Not my job. I’m not your mentor. And it’s boring.”
I smiled.
“I’ll tell you why men like lesbian porn.”
A few seconds of silence.
“Will you really? You’re not going to dodge like Adam?”
“I swear!” I said, almost solemnly.
“Statistically, most cultivators choose a light technique as their first,” Lina said. Her tone had changed – now she sounded like a lecturer. Seemed the deal was accepted. “Light, not necessarily fast. Something low-impact, to avoid serious injuries during training – it’s safer that way. A technique doesn’t have to be quick, but speed-based ones usually deal less damage, so it’s a double win.”
“Makes sense. What about the opposite view? What’s the benefit of going for a powerful technique?”
“You can’t push a light technique beyond its limit. But you can tone down a strong one – just channel less force into it. Sure, learning the trick will take effort, but it’s still faster than mastering two separate techniques. People who aim for duels from the start often go straight for a heavy hitter. Smasher was Adam’s first technique.”
“He entered duels with just one technique?” I asked.
“With two – he also used Iron Head. Have I satisfied your curiosity?”
“No! What’s Iron Head?”
“A movement technique,” Lina chuckled for some reason. “A dash followed by a headbutt.”
Was that the technique Rene mentioned? She and Adam were both third-periods… Though that didn’t guarantee they enrolled the same year, odds were they knew each other.This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
“Yes!” Lina said. “Now I demand an answer to my question.”
“It’s simple. Lesbians aren’t interested in men. Just like you, we’re drawn to what we can’t have.”
“That’s it?” Lina sounded disappointed.
“Men are simple creatures,” I replied.
“Bollocks! You only pretend to be simple,” she muttered and ended the call.
I was left alone in the silence of the dorm room, staring at the underside of the bunk above me. After a few seconds, still lying down, I raised my tablet and opened the library. My fingers typed the search automatically.
There was only one Iron Head. It scaled up to the third stage but didn’t branch out – no variations for combining with other qi. The Head relied entirely on the Fist and had only a grey-yellow grade across all tiers.
The description read: A movement technique for rapid approach and delivering massive damage. Designed for 3–4 wide strides covering 6–8 metres. Ideal for breaking through group defences or stunning an opponent.
Warning: This technique requires the use of a specialised helmet.
Out of all the techniques I’d browsed, I hadn’t seen a warning like that before. My curiosity growing, I opened the demonstration video.
On screen – a wide training platform. In the centre stood a cultivator in a dark blue uniform, unarmoured but wearing a helmet that looked like a hybrid between a boxing and a motorcycle helmet. A few steps in front of him stood a steel dummy, human-sized.
The operator gave the command, and the cultivator dipped his head bullishly and braced himself, and in the very next instant, he slammed head-first into the metal target. With a sound like a church bell, the dummy was torn from its mount and sent flying several metres.
It was impressive – and far too fast. I watched the video again. I thought I managed to catch the beginning of the move this time, where he pushed off with his right foot, but couldn’t make out much else, so I turned on the slow-motion replay.
The cultivator’s starting stance again brought up the strong image of a bull just before charging. The only thing missing was the hoof scrape. Instead, he crouched slightly for better take-off, then his body shot forward like an arrow – three strides, and he smashed his forehead into the dummy’s chest. It looked like the metal target bent before being thrown back. The helmet lost some blue paint, but it stayed intact overall.
It looked spectacular, but I couldn’t help wondering how his head was doing...
I opened the comments:
T. M. Okafor: It’s brilliant… right up until you need to take the helmet in for repairs. I’m on my fourth, and I’ve only just started learning it.
L. J. Sorensen: It literally says: SPECIAL HELMET REQUIRED!!! P.S.: Yeah, you’ll have to repair it too, but you’ll save money/points. Especially if you hand it in after duels.
K. A. Tanaka: The most effective technique for duels… and for comas, if you try it without prep.
R. I. Al-Mansur: Iron Head – when your skull is tougher than your willpower.
Y. Zhang: A technique for people who don’t use their heads for thinking.
C. H. Delgado: Aim carefully and make sure there’s nothing under your feet! The shield is concentrated on the forehead. You can get hit in the legs! Once you launch, you can’t turn!
A smile crept across my face. Iron Head really did look spectacular... and slightly suicidal. I had a feeling Adam won his first few fights with just one blow.
Damn, now I wanted to ram someone in the chest with my forehead too, like a ram-cultivator. But judging by the comments, half the users of this technique eventually find out how much a shock-absorbent helmet actually costs.
No need to rush… Alan told me to come to him once I’d picked my techniques. Looks like I’ll be ordering not just special gloves, but a special helmet too.
Well, not right now. I haven’t even properly mastered my first technique yet. Kate allowed me to train for longer, and Novak practically pulled Rahman off my back, so if it weren’t for the evening session in the Flow Chamber, I’d probably have rushed back to the hall to train with Rene again. Instead, I might as well keep Nur company.
The Fist Garden was unusually quiet. All the second- and third-periods who used to pour their Fist Qi all over the flowers had suddenly vanished. Either most cadets had shifted their focus to the Training Hall, or it was the season, or something else entirely – but tonight, none of the platforms were occupied by students, so the thin-horns took their place. Even Diego had issued me a task while standing on one of the platforms.
While checking the baskets full of chamomile, my hands automatically recalled the technique – shoulders, elbows, fists. In my mind, I repeated the punching cycle, picturing the hologram turning blue. In my thoughts, I went over Iron Head again. What nonsense – I’d barely mastered my first projection, and already I wanted to smash dummies with my skull. Only instead of dummies, I kept picturing Dubois – the strongest first-year I knew.
It’s not just my lads who get fired up by a bit of competitive spirit. Clearly, rivalry got to me too.
Later, before heading to the Meditation Hall, Pure Thoughts cleared my head, and I was finally able to focus on what really mattered – cultivation.
I don’t know what I’d do without that amazing tea Novak gave me!
The Chambers weren’t as crowded as usual. Maybe most people had already finished their daily sessions. I found the one I’d booked in advance – for a change, it was right near the start of the corridor – number five. I still hadn’t learned how to sit properly, but breathing, receiving the flow, and diving into trance were second nature by now!
I rocked gently on metaphorical waves, basked under an imagined sun and got a bit burnt by the end, but that sensation of being doused in molten magma didn’t come back.
It was a good session. I think after another two, I’ll ask Doc to re-evaluate me – to raise my cultivation time limit.
Speaking of Docs. When the session ended and I climbed out of the chamber, I instinctively looked around the hall to see if Nur was there. And she was – with her Doc. With Bulsara.
Bulsara was holding a scanner to her temple, while Nur stood perfectly still.
Why the scanner, when they said the earrings recorded everything?
I felt a flicker of concern, but Bulsara took the scanner back, said something to Nur, and she lit up with joy at his reply. Clearly, the news wasn’t troubling.
I waited until Nur finished saying goodbye to her Doc and walked up to her.
“What was that?” I asked.
She was still beaming.
“Doc says I’ve got about two more cultivation sessions left until I break through the bottleneck. I should reach it next time!”
“Oh, congratulations!”
She’d caught up to me that quickly? Wait, she’s cultivating on my schedule now, and when we first met, she didn’t want to waste points on a chamber…
“You paying with points or units?” I asked.
“Guess what!” Nur winked. “Doc filed it all under migraine research.” She raised her hand and spun the ring with her thumb so I’d notice it. Smiling, she added, “It really is profitable!”
“Just don’t get too comfortable,” I shook my head. “This kind of profit bites you in the arse when you least expect it.”