Chapter 18. Liars.

"Of course, Oberin is my real name, given to me by my parents at birth. They named me after an ancient prince renowned for his exploits. Why would you even ask such a silly question?" asked the former prince, unable to conceal genuine surprise in his voice.

"You see, I'm very sensitive to certain things, and I noticed that when addressed as Oberin, you react with a minimal involuntary delay, as if not entirely accustomed to your new name and unsure for a fraction of a second if it's really you being addressed. I once made up fictional names and observed similar reactions from myself. But of course, it may just be my imagination."

He lied, Rand understood it immediately; he didn't even need to evaluate the facial expressions, intonation, and other indicators that to some extent indicate whether a person is lying or not. Because his senses as a cultivator far surpassed those of mortals, and if he didn't feel this delay, then Weed couldn't either. Even Minos, the elder at the Core Formation stage, didn't notice anything like that, and such a triviality would not have escaped him. This explanation seemed even more comical because he wasn't just pretending to be Oberin; in some sense, he literally was Oberin, thanks to absorbing his memories, so reacting instantly to his practically second name was more than natural. From all this, it turned out that Weed's explanation was a complete lie.

"I feel his influence; I want to agree with his explanation without any questions, but it's weak, and knowing about it makes it almost completely irrelevant. It's clear that he thought out this justification in advance, but it seems that he doesn't fully understand the capabilities of cultivators. Or am I missing something? But the way he explained his lie is impressive; many would easily accept his excuse. Could a ten-year-old from a village come up with such a lie? Not sure."

"And most importantly, if he lied, then why did he assume that 'Oberin' is not my real name? And even if, for some unimaginable reason, he could think of it, then why ask such a question to someone you hardly know? Did he really think I would immediately confess that it's not my name? Or is there something else?"

"So many questions and so few answers. My head is already starting to ache from these mysterious things. And the more I think about it, the more I just want to kill him to get rid of this strange problem called Weed once and for all. Because if nothing is done, I'm sure this problem will only worsen. Can I kill him so discreetly that there will be no suspicions from the sect? This is worth thinking about. But for now, I'll continue to watch him, maybe I'll learn something useful about him."

"You've invented all sorts of fantasies, Weed. He reacts perfectly normally to his name. And asking such strange questions to new acquaintances is extremely disrespectful. Apologize to Oberin," Balron broke the silence that formed after Weed's response.

"I'm sorry, senior Oberin, if I unintentionally offended you, I just got very curious if I felt right or not," Weed apologized, lowering his head.

"It's alright, you didn't offend me at all, just surprised me with such a question."

They walked in silence for the next couple of minutes. Then they entered an unremarkable building that deacon Gerhard had pointed out to them in the morning, calling it the dining hall. From the outside, it was traditionally devoid of any decorations or unnecessary luxuries in the form of windows or anything else, typical of the Fire Dragon sect. In general, it didn't look much different from the External Sect Repository that Rand had visited before, except for a different sign, but their interior decoration differed significantly. Almost all of the extensive space in the dining hall was occupied by countless small tables and chairs. It seemed that several thousand people could dine here simultaneously.

In reality, at the moment, there were no more than a couple of hundred people dining there, but even such a small number was the largest gathering of sect members that Rand had seen since joining the sect. Before this, if Rand saw anyone not from his training group, they were either solitary figures passing by or small groups of a few people.

Most of the diners were novices, but there were also disciples and adepts.

Rand and the others passed by empty and occupied tables, approaching a massive counter where several people in front of them were already receiving food. Behind the counter stood a solitary novice, or so they initially thought, but upon closer inspection of a small patch on his robe, they realized he was not a novice but a servant, although you couldn't tell that from his twenty-year-old appearance. He was a person who had crossed the fifty-year threshold but had not yet reached the Foundation Establishment stage. They approached him, hoping to ask him questions, but he beat them to it with his inquiries.

"Newcomers?"

"How did you know we are newcomers? Do we stand out so much among all these people?" Fara couldn't help but indirectly respond, unable to contain her curiosity.

"You're still mortal, so you underestimate the memory of a cultivator. I remember all my clients, every single one, and I've never seen you before. So, you're newcomers. I don't need to look for who stands out." This response caught the girl off guard, and she couldn't immediately find a reply. The awkward silence that followed was interrupted by Balron.

"Indeed, we are newcomers. Senior, could you please advise us on what we can order?"

"We have options: a standard free dish, various paid dishes for one spiritual stone each, as well as elite food made from Qi-enriched ingredients, all for fifteen spiritual stones each. All portions in all dishes are standard."

"About the free food, did I understand you correctly that you can't choose without paying?" Balron clarified the information he needed. There was no point in asking about the food for spiritual stones, as no one in their position would part with even one.

"That's correct, all free meals are the same, but their composition changes every ten days. Each person can receive up to three free meals per day."

"Then, please give us one portion each"

"Wait."

After the servant said this word, he placed his hand on the counter in front of him, and it faintly lit up. And after a couple of moments, five dishes appeared on it seemingly out of nowhere, filled with meat from some bird and a garnish of rice.

"Meat from the Kiiti bird, as well as low-quality brown spiritual rice. Five portions. Take them. And since you're newcomers, I'll tell you this for the first and last time: leave the dishes and utensils on the tables after the meal. Taking anything from the dining hall without permission is prohibited and punishable by a fine of five spiritual stones. If you want to take food with you, we offer this service, but it's also not free. We also offer food delivery to your homes, but that's not free either. If you want to know more about prices and other services, you can touch the counter and get the latest information."

"It's impressive how well everything is thought out here, I didn't expect such service from a sect," Weed marveled at the quality of service.

After taking their food from the counter, they found an empty table and sat down. For a while, they ate in silence, busy satisfying their hunger after a hard training session. But then, when everyone had mostly finished eating, Rand unexpectedly broke the prevailing silence.

"Guys, tell me a bit about your past, about why you joined the sect, because you seem to know something about each other, but I still don't know anything about you."

In reality, Rand didn't care about their backstory at all. What difference did it make who they were before joining the sect? Children of peasants, merchants, or blacksmiths – it was all the same. And their origins hardly mattered for the current events in the sect, so this information was completely unnecessary for Rand. But there was one "but" called Weed. Rand was very interested in his backstory, although he doubted that he would hear anything but lies. But even from lies, you can sometimes learn a little truth. Unfortunately, if Rand had asked Weed alone, such a question would have sounded a bit strange, so he had to ask everyone at once.

"Great, we do need to get to know each other better. Let me start as the eldest," Balron said, and after not hearing any objections, he continued:

"Eighteen years have passed for me already. My father is a guard in one of the small towns, its name is Morhen, and it's located to the south from here. And my mother works as a maid in the mayor's house in the same town. For most of my life, I planned to become a guard just like my father. I trained a lot, of course, I'm far from being as skilled as you, Oberin, or even as Lucius, but I'm also decent in martial arts. And I was preparing to receive the first cultivation method from the city guard. If you ask why I waited so long, I'll tell you that you can't start practicing this cultivation method until you're eighteen. But six months ago, I accidentally met an old man on the street, and he saw great potential in me and invited me to his sect. Without going into details, after some persuasion, I agreed, and now I'm part of the sect, although that old man made me go through trials. He said it would be better that way."

"An unusual story. Who was this old man who found you?" Weed asked, intrigued by the story.

"This old man, as I later found out, was a magister of our sect named Ryuk."

"Lucky you, the magister himself, that's even cooler than the elder who took in Oberin. Did he also take you as his disciple? And why didn't you mention anything like this before?" Weed continued his questioning.

"Because there wasn't much to tell. He didn't take me as his disciple, but he said that if I prove myself worthy in the future, there's a chance he might take me."

Rand was almost sure that for Balron with his impressive gift, becoming a disciple of the magister was only a matter of time, not whether he would prove himself or not. Most likely, this magister just wanted Balron to experience the hardships of training without a master. And then this Ryuk would come and solve all of Balron's problems and questions. In that case, the disciple would be more grateful to the master, and therefore more attached. Or something along those lines. Many old folks like to play with people like that.

"Since we're sharing stories based on seniority, then... Oberin, how old are you?" Farah began speaking but unexpectedly interrupted her own speech with a question to Rand.

"I turned fourteen this year."

"Great, so I'm a year older than you, so now it's my turn," the girl exclaimed somewhat joyfully.

"I was born in the capital, in the best city under the sky, it's also called the White City, and it deserves that name very much. I don't know if any of you have ever been there, but there are no cities like it anywhere else. Huge houses made of white stone, each, even the smallest one, adorned with magnificent paintings depicting our great history, and those houses where wealthier people live even change their paintings every day. All streets are also paved with white stone and are always kept impeccably clean; even in the worst weather, you won't find a single puddle there. And the sky, both day and night, is illuminated by the light of spiritual fires, so this city truly never sleeps. And if you saw the imperial palace... It's so beautiful, even from a distance..."

"Fara, the capital is, of course, magnificent, but we still want to hear your story," Weed interrupted her dreamy reminiscences about the city that seemed endless. The girl, torn from her dreams, immediately became melancholic.

"My own story isn't that interesting. My mother... was just a whore, and I never knew my father. My mother wasn't very successful in her trade, so she never had enough money to support me, so I started working on the streets since childhood. Perhaps in the future, I would have had to follow in my mother's footsteps, but about a month ago, the old emperor was killed, and during the battle, a significant part of the city was destroyed, and my home was in that part. My mother was in it at the time when it was razed to the ground... After all that happened, I needed somewhere to live, and I remembered that I had an aunt in the City of Fire, so I went there. I found my aunt, and then I accidentally ended up in the square during the trial, and I was lucky enough to join the sect."

"Sorry for making you remember such things, my condolences about your mother," Balron said, and the others nodded in agreement with his words.

"No need, time has passed, and I wasn't so close to her to grieve over her loss. So don't pity me. Oberin, it's your turn, and don't forget to tell us about your master," Fara quickly changed the subject, not wanting to discuss her past anymore.

"Okay. I was born in the village of Lar, north from here. My father was a blacksmith, and my mother was a housewife. I had a quiet, peaceful life, worked, helped my father, there's not much to tell about my past. But this winter, wolves attacked our village, and unfortunately, my parents died while saving me from the them. I don't need condolences either; I've already come to terms with my loss," for the third time in the last week, Rand had to tell "his" past, and he didn't want to hear again fake condolences about parents who weren't even his.

"But on that fateful day, I promised myself that I would become stronger so that nothing like that would ever happen to anyone close to me, that's why I came to the sect. And as for the master, I can only say that he is very kind and sees great talent in me. Honestly, I was just as surprised as everyone else when he chose me at the square, as I never thought I was better than others. That's my short story,"

"We're very... Sorry, you asked not to. Judging by your fight with Lucius today, he was right about your talent, that's for sure. But overall, your stories are somewhat too sad. Eyron, I hope you'll tell us something less gloomy," Weed summed up the last two stories.

"Yeah, in comparison with your stories, there's hardly any sadness in mine. I was born to loving parents, in a very wealthy family, which is separated from the status of the clan only by the absence of strong cultivators, and when it was found out that I have the gift of Great Strength, I became the hope for the rise of my family. And to become a strong cultivator, they sent me to our sect, where my gift would be more useful than in other great sects," Eyron explained, also not wanting to go into detail.

"Wow, it turns out you're quite lucky compared to everyone else, you even had a choice of which great sect to join..." Weed began to speak, but Rand, tired of all these useless chatters, interrupted him.

"Now it's the turn of the youngest among us, Weed, tell us about yourself."

"I don't really have much to tell, I... hardly remember anything about my past, just that I was born in the City of Fire, but my parents died early, and I was left to live on the streets. A couple of weeks ago, I was severely beaten, so much so that I lost consciousness, and when I woke up, I couldn't remember almost anything, just my name and those fragments I just told you about... And then I heard about recruitment into the sect and decided to try my luck, and here I am with you all of you.

"How awful, not even knowing your past, it must be so hard to live like that. And you didn't tell us anything? Is there really nothing that can be done? Maybe we can help you somehow?" Fara expressed her shock and bombarded Weed with questions.

"My father once told me that due to a serious head injury, you can lose your memory, and it's very difficult to restore it afterward, but it's possible. There are a few special pills; I think in the future, you'll be able to get one and restore the knowledge of your past," Balron suggested.

"I hope you're right; It was really not easy…" Weed replied.

During Weed story, Rand watched him closely, observing every muscle movement on his face, his intonation, the size and number of pauses in his sentences, and many other subtle things that were hardly noticeable to an ordinary person. Although he wasn't as skilled in reading faces as the elder Minos, he believed that it was quite difficult for Weed to lie to him, especially when he was fully focused on him. Every future ruler must be able to do this, at least at a basic level, he was taught so in childhood. Unfortunately, the higher the cultivation level, the better a person controls their body, which means the likelihood of them showing signs of lying decreases significantly. So fully relying on such a skill wasn't possible.

But Weed was an ordinary person, not a mighty cultivator, at least he looked like that. So it should have been very difficult for him to lie to Rand when he was fully concentrated on him. And all of Rand's knowledge in this discipline indicated that Weed hadn't lied even once, and the information about him from the journal, although slightly different in details, generally confirmed Viida's legend.

"So, did he tell the truth? Or is he so good at deception that I can't read him? Maybe he has the same protection as me?" Rand pondered.