Sovereign of the Karmic System-Chapter 682: The Champion of Conflict

*Tak ta-tak* The wooden sword snapped rhythmically, striking at logs stripped of bark and covered in varnish. *Ta-ta-tak* Splinters flew dozen of feet in the distance, the blow bending the surface of the dummy out of its originally smooth shape, until, *Ta-crrck* The weapon broke.

"What has that dummy done to you?" Daniel asked. He was sitting on a three-feet tall boulder placed at the edge of the black castle’s training yard. Just two dozen feet away from a wooden dummy that was currently being abused by Ian’s sloppy training.

*SNAP* With a final anger-fueled slash the wooden sword met its end against the more durable log, snapping into two pieces. It was then discarded.

"What now?" Ian asked. He was covered in sweat, panting from exhaustion and sore the way only a mortal that had yet to begin his journey into cultivation could be. "You have been staring at me training for hours, neither teaching nor offering any help. Only attempts at bad sarcasm. So, do you need something?!"

Daniel smiled. Ian’s arrogance amused him, for some reason. Nothing like the defiance of an ant to a god’s dominion could bring a smile to his face. Nevertheless, the youth was wrong. What Daniel was observing wasn’t Ian’s training regime, but the invisible power of conflict that would feebly stick to his body. Microscopic and inconsequential, like bacteria against skin. Nothing that could ever pose a threat to him, but a mark of Conflict nonetheless.

He couldn’t tell what a gift from the aspect of Conflict could grant one of its champions, for he had never met one. But one thing he was sure of. It had to do with the concepts of conflict itself, as shown by the one clear effect it had on his descendant’s training.

The gift was not making Ian stronger, but it improving his ability to create conflict. He was learning how to follow through with a swing, how to strike on a previously damaged area, how to cause the most damage, and even how to have that damage reflected back on himself, bringing him to ignore the hurt such reckless attacks would cause to his equipment and body.

Daniel could not help but wonder what a powerful cultivator could do with such powers, and whether the lack of champions of Conflict was due to the latter’s habit to interfere personally, or caused by a tendency to crash and burn upon impact. He could not tell for sure.

"Would you listen to a suggestion, if I offered one?" Daniel asked while casually crossing his legs. His left elbow sunk into the side of his left knee, pressed as heavily as the weight of Daniel’s own head, which now rested over his palm.

"You can try at least once before assuming I wouldn’t." Ian responded, causing Daniel to smile once more. The kid had a sharp tongue, he had to give him that.

"You are going about it the wrong way. You are trying to pick up technique by finding better ways to deal damage, but you should be doing the opposite." Daniel explained. "What you should be doing is learning how to strike first, then learn how to use your muscles to give that strike speed and power."

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Ian was surprised. Daniel had only spent a few hours observing him, and yet, he had pinpointed exactly the way he was training. A method directly conflicting with what he had been taught. "What is the difference between the two methods?" He asked, perplexed.

"Mentality." Daniel said matter-of-factly. "Your method will turn you into someone who swings with emotions, mine will turn you into someone who swings with their head."

The youth lowered his head pensively. Daniel’s explanation made sense, and he could see the merit in it, but his current training wasn’t an amateur’s mistake, it was on purpose. "You were right." He said before turning away and heading for the edge of the training yard. He then picked a new wooden sword and added, "I won’t listen to it."

"Suit yourself." Daniel added. He truly didn’t care whether Ian picked up bad habits. The boy’s connection to the aspect of Conflict was of more interest to him than their connection through blood, and in the end, digging it up was his true goal. "Who taught you this method of training anyway? It is quite unorthodox." Daniel casually asked.

Ian froze for a moment. "Nobody. I am self taught." Ian answered. In his tone, Daniel could hear a hint of nervousness. "I was meant to start training once I began cultivating. ’There is no point in training as a mortal. Takes ten times the effort for a thousandth of the effect.’ they told me. But it’s better to do this than waste my time studying the concepts of mana, if you ask me."

"Impressive. You must be a prodigy." Daniel said, not bothering to show any actual surprise. "And here I thought you had found some ancient training method under your pillow, or were being aided by the ghost of an old masochistic swordmaster."

"Haha.. yeah, I can see why you would think that." Ian laughed nervously, beads of cold sweat running down his temples. *Tak-tak-tak* "W-Where are we going anyway?" He then asked while casually resuming his training.

"Where are we going?" Daniel repeated, eyes narrowing for a fraction of a moment.

"Y-yeah. The war chi-Mr. Ligart said that after leaving the ring we would be following you in your travels." Ian quickly explained, thanking the heavens for not missing the public announcement of the previous night. "S-So.. where are you taking us?" *Ta-tak-TAK!*

Daniel nodded in understanding. "Well, as of now I have two main rivals. One who wants to kill me, and one who wants to use me. The latter happens to have recently obtained a card to play against me, so I am going to deal with the former fist."

"Splendidly done, my boy." Said a disembodied rough voice that left the young mortal smiling ear to ear.

"Didn’t know you cared that much about this question." Daniel added. He had not heard Conflict’s voice, but he had guessed that something had caused Ian’s sudden burst of elation, and that that something, was probably not hearing about the next step of his schedule. "If you want, I can tell you what the cooks are preparing for lunch."

Ian brushed his hair in embarrassment. "Hehe.. It’s just that I was born in the valley. I have always dreamed of going out, and explore the universe. I was just happy that we are going to visit new places, that’s all."

Nice save, Daniel thought as the boy wiped the sweat off his brows and forehead. "That is because you haven’t experienced the weeks of dead space between planets." He pointed out.

"Can’t we just teleport there?" Ian asked. "I heard that was a thing."

"Sure we can, but there are limitations. Like pinpoint the location of your destination." Daniel explained. "If you use a memory of the place’s location in space, depending on how much time has passed, the place could have moved.. which is often the case, considering the universes are constantly expanding. If you rely on the familiarity of the place to open a rift, on the other hand, you need to have spent enough time there to transcend the barrier of unknown that is factual distance, similarities between planets and so on. Most of the time people are forced to teleport to their destination’s last visited location, and chase after it. That is what we are doing."

*Tak-tak-tak* Ian resumed training. "Okay." he said, understanding only a fraction of what Daniel was saying. Not a surprise, considering that Ian was not only young, but also lacked knowledge in most things. After all, he was a war orphan. "Why are we all following you anyway? I get that you and our leaders were friends, but.."

"Because the weak tend to crowd around the strong for protection." Daniel responded. There was no bitterness or resentment in his voice, only a factual statement hidden behind a veil of disdain.

"That is not all, I think." *Tak-tak* He kept swinging, each strike harder than the last. "The way our elders speak of you.. It’s as if all this time they simply kept an eye out on something you owned, and now that you have returned, they are handing it back to you."

Daniel shrugged. "I supposed I was once a leader to them, when your broken community numbered in the tens of millions, requiring armies, governments, schools and crops to be fed. Back when I was a human too."

Ian stopped. He turned towards Daniel, eyes narrowed in confusion. "You aren’t human anymore?" He asked.

"I suppose I am as close to a human a member of my species can get." Daniel responded with a knowing smile. He wasn’t human anymore, he knew that, but he could not say he was a normal aspect of existence either. After all, he still possessed the characteristics of a cultivator. Body reinforced by ki, spirit brimming with spiritual essence, and mental power swirling in his consciousness like a whirlpool of ethereal green water. "But calling me a deity would be more accurate."

"Mhh.." Ian scoffed, unconvinced. "If you are so powerful, can you teach me how to cultivate? The elders do not allow it, unless we reach twenty years of age."

Daniel’s head sunk deeper into his palm, lips puckering from the pressure. "Let’s do this." He said as the fingers of his right hand snapped together. *SNAP* Before Ian could say anything, a new figure had joined the two.

It was a beautiful woman in her mid twenties, with sharp gray eyes and long dark hair that flowed gently down a loosely fitting white shirt, stopping mere inches from the seam of her tight leather pants. "Lord Karma." She said in reverence as her left knee struck the soil, head bowed in respect to what at least she believed to be one of the gods. "Your orders.."

"You will spar with this boy." Daniel casually ordered. "Do not use mana, and restrict your senses to those of a mortal." The paladin nodded, sprung up on her feet, and headed for the weapon’s rack. Once there, she eagerly grabbed a wooden spear, her weapon of choice.

Her callous hands embraced the spear’s staff firmly, adapting to its weight and reach. She rotated it, pierced, slashed, swung it with the strength of a mortal woman of her age. Her movements became more refined by the second, and after a full minute, she stopped. Knees bent slightly, left foot forward, spear lying parallel to the ground, still as stone.

Ian took a step back, intimidated by the sheer demeanor of his new sparring partner.

"Strike her once, and I will teach you how to cultivate." Daniel’s disembodied voice said, leaving before Ian could have a chance to complain.

"So, what do you have?" Daniel asked the scarred man by his side. The two were standing on the eastern tower of the black castle, looking down at the young man that was now struggling with the concept of reach that was so important in melee combat, and failing miserably.

Ligart looked down at the two individuals, eager to complain about the employment of a former enemy, but distracted by a masterful swipe of her spear which sent her young opponent on the ground, sword thrown out of reach. "He is Eli’s descendant, roughly fifteen generations down the line. His grandfather disappeared along with the rest of your family, leaving behind a single pregnant woman. The kid’s mom."

"Mhh.." Daniel hummed briefly.

"This fits the theory that our friends were swept into Edmund’s experiments.. but that means that they could be literally anywhere." Ligart added, slightly worried.

Daniel nodded. "And then Conflict found him, helped him, and made a champion out of him so that he can keep track of us." He said.

Ligart struggled to stomach Daniel’s lack of interest in the fate of his family and friends, but only briefly. The two had spoken enough time by now for him to get used to Daniel’s apathy. "What now then?" He asked instead.

Unbeknownst to Ligart, a sphere of pure golden light had formed in front of Daniel’s eyes. He observed it, dug through the many concepts of the existential powers, separating them and examining them one by one. When he stopped, his focus had narrowed to a concept in particular. The concept that turned karmic power from a simple power at his disposal to a force of morality, that gave it the potential to become an inevitable judgment-An effect to a cause that was bound to come.. Be that fated, or destined.

In those two elements, Daniel felt the core existence of time. His one and only lead.

"Now we have a chat with my father."