Another Heaven-tier fragment, Wu Hao thought. He'd been staring at it the entire time as he was climbing, trying to make sense of it, but he was having even less luck than with the Hound's Snapping Jaws - the dagger art of the same tier that Huo Shanliang had 'given' him.

  Again, he understood the principles of the new technique perfectly fine. All he needed to do in order to activate the Stream-Cutting Slash was to slash out with a sword using the proper qi structure, and as a result he'd unleash a cut so fine that no matter how dull the sword itself was he could cleave a stream of water in two.

  But he didn't understand why. It seemed to him like more qi had to come out of the technique in order for it to function than he was putting in. Where did it come from? What kind of rules allowed it to work like it did?

  He didn't know, and he was getting more and more convinced that knowing would be important if he actually wanted to use the technique properly.

  Anyway, he was starting to fall behind, he thought, staring up at 726 leading their group's charge up the mountainside. Wu Hao's fingers clenched at the rock, and he began to pull himself up more quickly. His arms whined at the needless exertion but he ignored it entirely.

  That was only the first problem, and though it was one he didn't mind circling back to repeatedly it paled in comparison to the real problem he was facing.

  Wu Hao didn't know what he was going to do with Du Linglong. Or Ke Jiazhong, for that matter.

  All he did know was that he didn't want it to end like it had last time, and he wanted answers. Why Uncle had tried to rob them, why they'd been there, how they'd gotten so strong. He needed answers, and for once he figured that he might actually get them.

  And there was something else, though he barely refused to admit it to himself: a faint guilt, an emotion that Father had literally tried to have beaten out of all of his deathsworn, still gnawed at his stomach every time he thought about the look in Du Linglong's eyes.

  But that wasn't as important as surviving. He tried to push that emotion to the side, as he tried to do with his other emotions whenever they threatened to take him over, and focused on what was actually important.

  Fortunately, he had an easy way to make sure that things went as he wanted them to, that he'd get the mission he wanted to, and the best part was that it'd worked already, though then it'd been accidental.

  He waited until they were in the forests, gathering herbs, and then he spoke.

  "Brother," Wu Hao said, determination firming his spine. If he felt a little glee at hitting back at 726, that was a minor bonus that hardly merited mention. "There's something I want to say."

  726 half-turned. He'd have sneered, probably, if that'd been allowed to them.

  "What?" he asked.

  Wu Hao's fist caught him in the upper jaw, having been wound back into a telegraphed punch that had been enhanced with a generous helping of qi. It hit him so hard that he didn't even get a chance to react or to fall - he outright flew, landing bonelessly on the mountain ground, thudding into the hard ground just as 723 was returning with the Mountain's Breath Mushroom.

  "I'm challenging you," Wu Hao said belatedly.

  726 didn't respond. He'd been knocked out in a single blow.

  Excellent.

  "I'm the Brother now," Wu Hao stated. He looked the boys around him in the eyes, one by one. 720 and 723 shrugged, clearly not caring, but 729 took a little longer to look away from Wu Hao's gaze. Maybe he was wondering if he could challenge Wu Hao and take the position in turn, but he'd be in for a surprise if he tried.

  732 shook his head and gave Wu Hao an indecipherable look when their eyes met. One of these days he'd really love to figure out what the deal was with 732.

  Not today, though. First things first...

  "I'll take that to Uncle," Wu Hao said, pointing at the mushroom.

  723 hesitated for a moment, eyes flickering over to 726, and finally nodded.

  "Brother," he said, handing his mushroom carefully to Wu Hao. "Your orders?"

  "Stay," Wu Hao said. "Search this place for another half an hour. Return by yourselves to the tent."

  "Yes, Brother," 723 said. "And... what with him?"

  Again he looked at 726, whose eyes had begun slowly blinking as his unconsciousness began to fade. A cough racked his body. He looked pitiable, but Wu Hao couldn't let himself feel much of anything right now.

  "Leave him," Wu Hao said. "He can find his own way back."

  "Yes, Brother," 723 responded.

  Wu Hao didn't look back as he left, walking the way down the mountainside back into camp.

  A while later, he stole another knife from Uncle Liu after handing over the Mountain's Breath.

  This time, though, he paused before returning to the others. In his last life, he'd just gone through the motions as per usual. He'd eaten with the others, cultivated with the others, slept the same way as he always did.

  But he'd been a Brother, and now he was a Brother again. Not a common deathsworn. That came with privileges, privileges he hadn't bothered to use before because his mind had been elsewhere.

  This time, after the bell rang for food to be served, Wu Hao stopped 726 before allowing him to go. The other boy's rags had never been clean but a faint sheen of sweat covered his skin now, the result of the work that he usually only observed from a distance.

  "I'll use my rank," Wu Hao told him. "Where is the cultivation guidance for Brothers?"

  726 stared at him. Qi bubbled up with the scent of pine, but Wu Hao stared the former Brother down until the qi began to swirl back beneath 726's skin.

  "Are you ignoring me?" Wu Hao asked, and stepped closer.

  Huh. He'd never before noticed that 726 was actually smaller than him. Odd how obvious that now seemed. Wu Hao lifted a fist - his right, the same one that had delivered the giant bruise across 726's face.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  "No," 726 said.

  "No?"

  "No," 726 said again. But his eyes flickered down to Wu Hao's fist, and then the last of his resistance broke. "No, Brother."

  Wu Hao didn't doubt that the other boy's anger would reach a boiling point again, some time in the near future. Too much of 726 was built on that seething hate for everything other than himself. If even Father's methods hadn't managed to hollow out 726 enough to forget it, then probably nothing short of the Buddha himself could.

  "Then tell me."

  "It's the same field as the usual cultivation guidance," 726 said.

  "And the food?" Wu Hao asked.

  "Provided afterwards," 726 said.

  "If you lie to me," Wu Hao said, and left the rest of the threat unstated. "Go."

  "Yes."

  726 went. Already he'd stopped calling Wu Hao Brother, the way he'd been supposed to. Something told Wu Hao that if he managed to live past today, that 726 would challenge him again as soon as he thought Wu Hao had shown weakness.

  Well, whatever. Wu Hao moved on, discarding thoughts of 726. He was curious what that cultivation guidance was like.

  It was a smaller group that sat in the field, now, composed of the Third and the Second Brothers. The First Brothers had their own, he presumed. The one Uncle whose name Wu Hao didn't know stood in front of the group, already looking impatient as the last stragglers arrived from wherever they'd been directing work. For once, Wu Hao wasn't the last.

  When they'd all sat down, Uncle cleared his throat and then swept his eyes over to the spot where Wu Hao remembered someone had died. He'd seen the blood-flecked grass so often now that he barely registered it anymore.

  "Today," Uncle said, "I shall talk about cultivation deviation. I shall explain to you what it is, why it is, and how to use it."

  Huh. That was... new. Usually the cultivation guidance was just Uncle reciting the same speech as he did every night. Was this the special treatment Brothers got?

  "Cultivation deviation," Uncle began. "Also called qigong deviation, obsession, a heart devil. The name does not matter."

  His grey eyes swept through the assembled boys. Wu Hao tried to keep his posture exactly what it already was.

  "It is caused simply by excessive emotion," Uncle explained. "Qi is a reflection of the self, but a reflection can never influence its original. You touch a mirror; a mirror never reaches out for you."

  He began to pace.

  "The purpose of cultivation is to form a cycle. That cycle must resound with nature, otherwise it will at best be worthless. The shape of this cycle is determined by your cultivation method, which results in different forms of the Dantian you form. Remember this: in being cycled, qi feeds into itself and grows."

  Stabbing one finger into the air, a thin line of grey qi erupted from his fingertip and curved itself neatly into a circle.

  "Why? Because qi cleanses our meridians as it passes, and qi moves better through cleansed meridians. Hence it smoothens its passage, little by little. At the same time, it is spent slightly in the effort to clean out your meridians. This is why you require regular cultivation to reach your optimal performance."

  Uncle paused for a bit, then continued.

  "This is also why meridians are used as an indicator of talent. The cleaner your meridians initially or the better control you have over your qi, the cleaner your meridians, the less wastage there is when moving it around."

  "Returning to the topic of deviation, it is simply what occurs when this cycle is disrupted. When your mind is disturbed, your qi follows suit and deviates from its cycle. If this issue is severe enough, then you will form wrong paths for your cultivation and ruin yourself forever. This is why it is so vital that you control your emotions at all times. Only that way can you prevent cultivation deviation."

  Huh, Wu Hao thought. Uncle was talking in the same mistifying tone as usual, but he felt like he was getting the gist of it. Was that simply because of the different explanation, or was it because he had received better talent now?

  "Now," Uncle said. "That is all the explanation you require. Begin cultivating."

  Wu Hao waited for a moment to see if Uncle was about to start the same chant as usual, but he didn't. Instead he just stood and watched. The field fell into silence, and then around Wu Hao a dizzying mix of scents erupted as each of the Brothers began to mobilize their qi.

  Squeezing his eyes shut, he began to follow suit. He'd never stopped cultivating the way he always had, even with his supposed increased talent. Perhaps if he died that way a few more times?

  But he shouldn't let himself get distracted. He turned his attention inwards, grasping as firm a hold as he could muster on his qi and began to guide it through his channels. Now that he actually knew what he was doing, though, it seemed almost to go easier.

  For a moment he wondered if this was what cultivation was like in other sects. They'd probably have places with even more natural qi than this, though, and resources to help them gather qi. Things like that Mountain's Breath Mushroom, maybe.

  A rough hand landed on his back and ice-cold qi poured into his core, not much gentler than it usually was. Uncle had come to inspect him.

  "You're slacking," Uncle said. His disapproval smashed into Wu Hao like a whip, the ice in his veins crackling as it was pushed around. Wu Hao gasped for breath as he felt a deep chill pour through him, chips of ice wriggling in his veins. "Your cultivation is barely any better than that of a regular deathsworn. Pathetic."

  Uncle hadn't ever bothered before to show his displeasure. To him one deathsworn must have been much the same, disposable tools. Brothers, on the other hand, seemed to warrant a comment, at the very least.

  As Wu Hao gasped for breath, Uncle withdrew his hand and stood up.

  "Don't disappoint us again. We gave you the position of Brother. We can take it away at a moment's notice."

  Wu Hao fought not to grin, despite everything.

  They hadn't given him shit. Everything he'd had, he'd taken.