Dark Thoughts-Chapter 2

The months after his brother's death, his mother's situation got worse day by day.

Despite the fact that she had grey hair before, now it seemed like age had finally caught up to her.

She stopped taking the walks around the farm she once loved, and she started staring blankly often.

A year later she passed away.

Noah was left alone taking care of the farm.

Foraging when it was needed, lumbering during winter, and taking care of the farm.

These were all things he needed to do in order to survive.

Until one day, a curious thought popped into his head.

If my brother had my talent, could he have survived?

Or, if I had my brother's dream, could I accomplish it?

Once these thoughts popped into his head, he couldn't get rid of it. 

And finally he had something he truly wished to find out.

Do talents come from the person themselves, or are they truly random.

Contemplating day by day, his resolve towards the enlistment grew.

My talentless brother went, so why shouldn't I.

If even my cowardly brother mustered enough perseverance for his dream, why would I not.

Is my dream less than his?

Am I less important than him?

He died, I survived.

But am I even living a life, without a goal?

And am I even a person without a dream.

Thus the greatest fighter of the village left.

Left to prove himself to his dead family

And left to find his goal in life.

...

In the dusty landscape of a battlefield, a figure clothed in merely cloth garments wreaked havoc throughout the battlefield.

At noon's greatest, his blade shone with the brightest light while slaughtering enemies without hesitation.

Climbing from shadows, heads fell around him, as he sliced up through the chinks in the armour.

Slowly but surely, though moving through the battlefield, he felt stifled.

Stifled from the stagnation of his dagger skills.

Each swing of the blade, sought to wreak the greatest havoc inside the enemies body.

Tangled organs flew out of his enemies, and blood dripped down from his sword.

This was a common experience, after spending years on the battlefield

Noah's frustration grew as the battle continued.

He could be called a veteran in the war, fighting for years, but a knifemanship that truly belonged to him eluded him.

Weapons were a medium to bring out your true self. A way to connect with the world.

To express the essence of themselves through a blade.

To put your ''self'' into your art

Only when you had a swordsmanship that truly belonged to yourself, would you be known as a weaponsmaster.

Despite the millions of soldiers, the kingdom of Zhou trained. A mere 5 weaponsmasters emerged.

The true value of a weaponsmaster, did not lie in their personal strength.

They were all mortals in the end.

Surrounded by a group of ten battle hardened soldiers. What could they do except die?

Thus their true strength laid in teaching.

Teaching millions of soldiers their disciplines, and later sending them to wreak havoc on the armies of Xiao.

A small improvement in strength, for a large number of soldiers.

Quantitative changes ended up making qualitative changes.

...

As the battle raged on, Noah secretly infiltrated their army.

Slowly moving back, step by step, he jumped like a leopard towards the enemy general.

With an open blow, his head came toppling off.

And Noah sprinted passed enemies, and encirclements to return to safety.

The sound of arrows tearing through the chaotic army brought an end to this battle.

Yet nothing remained but disappointment.

Would his brother survive this battle, if he had his talent?

A resounding ''yes'' appeared in his mind.

The war was over, yet he didn't have the answers to the questions he came for.

A sense of fatigue and disappointment came over him.

In the end, he returned as a war hero.

With nothing but disappointment, he left to receive rewards from the king.

...

''General Noah.

With your outstanding contributions to the war, such as killing hundreds of soldiers, in the battle of Naimshard...''

As the bestowing ceremony was ongoing, Noah was slightly bored hearing all of his achievements.

He reminisced on his amazing dynamic vision and reflexes that led to his fame on the battlefield.

With his eyes that seemed to be

His understanding of his surroundings, almost made it seem like he had an eye on the back of his head.

This was why, apart from being a general, he was often employed as a bodyguard.

The connections acquired from that job, was a major factor why he was promoted to a noble.

As the speech came to a close, he was feeling a sense of loss, after achieving his brother's dream.

''The king decrees, the title of viscount upon you.

And allows a hereditary title of baron onto five generation of your children.

Along with five hundred acres of land, as well as one request that can be inherited.

Are you satisfied''

''Yes, my liege.''

''Then do you have any request?''

''Please allow me, to try and cultivate.''

With a sigh, Noah felt no joy onto the fact that if his brother had his talent, he could've been a cultivator.

The king gave a pitied look onto him.

''Viscount Noah, to be frank here, we have tried to test your aptitude for cultivation already.

To cultivate you need to have a sensitive spirit roots.

Mortals usually have a sensitivity of 0-10, with cultivation families usually having a much higher aptitude.

Most mortals, even if given the techniques, could spend their whole life trying to draw qi in, and never succeed.

The previous prince had a sensitivity of 380 in his best element.

That's an above average middle grade spirit root, and even he spent years before finally drawing in qi.

Your sensitivity is an abyssmal 5.

76 times worse than the prince.

We can give you the technique, but don't blame us for not being able to cultivate.

Are you sure, you would like to use your favour on it.''

First a sense of loss was born inside Noah.

Then a burning rage.

Why.

Am I truly destined, to not get the answer to a single question?

Surrounded by the top masters, all throughout the kingdom, they give a sigh inside their heads.

They knew the look of sadness inside of him, each of them, also experienced this, and ended up with overwhelming disappointment.

Unexpectedly, after Noah received the manual, he did not try to cultivate and end up with disappointment like they expected.

He sprinted up to the king, and ripped him apart from the neck.

The guards, shocked, had barely enough time to react, before Noah was already sprinting out.

Noah had drowned in despair after receiving the news, but afterwards he hatched a daring plan.

He heard enough news to know that cultivators could primarily be categorised into two sections: demonic and righteous path.

The technique given by the king was a righteous path technique, harming no one if done right and not using inherently ''evil'' or ''taboo'' techniques.

Most righteous techniques are based on inherent talent.

The demonic path is the opposite.

Anything can be done if it benefits the user.

Slaughtering hundreds, drinking blood, torturing souls, these are all common techniques in the demonic path.

Thus if Noah didn't have talent, and didn't know any cultivators.

Then he would make cultivators come to him.

Whether as enemies or allies.

By slaughtering mortals until they care.