Cultivation is Creation-Chapter 256: The Preacher

Thara smiled, her eyes crinkling behind her spectacles. "I can tell you're eager to get started with painting, but the Saint Selection won't actually be testing your artistic skills." She adjusted her glasses with her index finger. "It will only test your ability to absorb the blue sun's energy."

I hadn't given much thought to what the Selection would entail. Between creating my Cerulean Vein and discovering Thara's connection to Elder Molric, the actual mechanics of the Selection had fallen by the wayside. fгeewebnovёl.com

"What exactly happens during this test?" I asked, deciding this was a perfect opportunity to gather some intelligence. If I was being forced to participate in this competition, I might as well understand the rules of the game.

Thara gestured for me to follow her to a small seating area near the window of her laboratory.

"The test is quite simple in concept," she explained, settling onto a cushioned stool. "Each candidate will enter their own cubicle at the peak of the Cerulean Spire. From there, you'll meditate and attempt to absorb as much blue sun energy as you can manage."

I nodded slowly, processing this information. It sounded straightforward enough, essentially a test of capacity rather than skill or technique. This might actually work in my favor. With the Genesis Seed's protection, I could potentially control exactly how much energy I absorbed.

"Is there a specific target amount we're supposed to reach?" I asked.

Thara shook her head, her expression growing more serious. "No. You simply absorb until you can't anymore." She leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping. "I should warn you, Tomas, some candidates overexert themselves and end up burning from the inside out."

I winced. "That sounds unpleasant."

"It is," she agreed grimly. "I've seen it happen even in normal training. The blue sun's energy is pure, but it's also immensely powerful. And when concentrated at the Spire, it can overwhelm even those born with strong resonance."

"How long do candidates usually last? And how long does the winner typically endure?"

Thara tilted her head, considering the question. "It differs depending on the batch of candidates. Some years, the strongest might last several hours. Other times, barely thirty minutes." She paused, adjusting her spectacles again. "But more importantly, there are rumors that time, or at least the perception of time, is distorted in the testing chambers."

"Distorted?” I raised an eyebrow. “How?"

"The chambers are designed with special formations that affect how time feels to the occupant," she explained. "Some say an hour inside feels like minutes, while others claim minutes stretch into days. It's deliberately designed this way so candidates can't calculate how long they've been there, forcing them to rely solely on their actual limits rather than endurance goals."

I frowned inwardly. That threw a wrench in my plans. I'd hoped to simply count the time and cut myself off at some predetermined, respectable-but-not-exceptional point. If I couldn't trust my own (or Azure’s) perception of time, controlling my performance would be far more difficult.

"That seems... unnecessarily cruel," I murmured, trying to mask my concern.

"Perhaps," Thara agreed with a slight shrug. "But the position of Saint carries enormous responsibility. The test is as much about spiritual capacity as it is about mental discipline and self-awareness." She rose from her stool. "Come, let me show you where you can practice."

I followed her out of the laboratory and through a series of winding corridors. The Blue Sun Academy had a confusing layout, with wings and pavilions that seemed to follow no logical organizational principle. I suspected this was intentional, a subtle security measure that would make it difficult for intruders to navigate efficiently.

After several minutes of walking, punctuated by Thara's occasional commentary on the buildings we passed, we arrived at a large, domed structure near the eastern edge of the academy grounds. Unlike the more ornate buildings in the central complex, this one was simple and functional, built of pale blue stone with minimal decoration.

"This is the Aspirants' Meditation Hall," Thara explained as she pushed open the heavy doors. "It's where candidates typically prepare in the days leading up to the Selection."

Inside, the hall opened into a vast circular chamber with a high, vaulted ceiling. The floor was arranged in concentric rings that stepped upward like an amphitheater, but instead of leading to a central stage, they rose toward the domed ceiling. Each ring contained meditation cushions spaced at regular intervals.

I immediately understood the design. Just like the meditation platforms at the Red Sun Academy, this structure was built to bring practitioners closer to their celestial power source. The higher one meditated, the more direct and potent the connection to the blue sun.

Near the top of the chamber, perhaps thirty rings up, a solitary figure sat in meditation. From this distance, I could make out only general details, a slender build, blonde hair, expensive-looking blue robes trimmed with silver.

"Another candidate?" I asked, keeping my voice low to avoid disturbing the meditator.

Thara nodded. "Yes, that's Aric Leminov. One of the favorites for this Selection. He's been here since dawn most days."

Interesting. My first glimpse of the competition. I made a mental note to observe him more closely when the opportunity arose.

"This will be your training ground for the next few days," Thara continued, gesturing around the chamber. "The basic technique is simple: assume a meditation posture, clear your mind, and channel the blue sun's energy into your Cerulean Vein."

She demonstrated the hand position: palms upward on the knees, index finger and thumb touching to form circles. "Unlike red sun cultivation, which I understand relies on aggressive accumulation, blue sun meditation is about receptivity. You don't grasp at the energy; you welcome it."

I nodded, already understanding the fundamental difference.

"As the energy enters you," Thara explained, "direct it to flow through the pattern of your Cerulean Vein. The vein will naturally refine and store the energy. With each session, your capacity should increase, preparing you for the Selection."

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She paused, glancing up at the lone figure meditating high above. "I wouldn't recommend starting at the upper levels, though. Begin at the lower rings and work your way up gradually as your tolerance increases."

After a few more instructions and a brief demonstration of proper breathing techniques, Thara checked her timepiece, a small crystal device.

"I should attend to my other duties," she said, moving toward the door. "I wish you luck with your practice, Tomas. If you have any questions, you know where to find me."

With that, she departed, leaving me alone in the vast meditation chamber, well, alone aside from the distant figure of Aric Leminov.

"That went well," Azure commented. "We now have a better understanding of the Selection, though the time distortion complicates matters."

"Indeed," I replied silently. "I'll need a different strategy now. Perhaps monitoring my energy levels directly rather than relying on time."

"This meditation hall provides an excellent opportunity to calibrate your absorption rate."

I surveyed the concentric rings, considering where to position myself. Following Thara's advice would mean starting at the lowest levels, but that seemed unnecessarily cautious. After all, I'd already established my Cerulean Vein in record time, and the Genesis Seed provided protection against energy overload.

Still, drawing too much attention would be unwise. I decided on a middle path, not at the very bottom, which would seem too timid for someone with my demonstrated aptitude, but not near Aric either, which might appear challenging or provocative.

I selected a spot about halfway up the chamber, roughly fifteen rings from the floor. It was high enough to access substantial blue sun energy, but not so high as to suggest exceptional confidence or ambition.

The cushion was surprisingly comfortable as I settled into the recommended meditation posture. I closed my eyes, regulated my breathing, and began to channel the blue sun energy into my Cerulean Vein. Almost immediately, I felt the pattern activate, appearing as a glowing signature on my forehead.

Directing my awareness inward, I observed my inner world with interest. The canopy of the Genesis Seed no longer sheltered the blue sun, as there was no need to hide it anymore. Free from constraint, the miniature blue sun floated proudly in the open space of my inner world, its azure light casting gentle shadows across the landscape.

As the external blue sun energy flowed into me, the miniature version began to absorb it greedily. It pulsed rhythmically, growing steadily larger with each cycle of energy it consumed.

Within minutes, it had swelled to twice its original size, its glow intensifying from pale azure to a deeper, more vibrant blue. The energy from the meditation hall was remarkably pure compared to what I'd encountered during the Cerulean Orb test, which had been more focused but also more invasive.

"The Academy must have spent centuries optimizing these formations," I commented to Azure. "The energy flow is perfectly calibrated, strong enough to challenge adepts but not overwhelming enough to cause damage."

"Indeed," Azure replied. "The engineering principles underlying this chamber are quite sophisticated. The concentric design creates a logarithmic increase in energy density with each ascending ring, while the dome shape acts as a focus to channel the blue sun's rays directly to the meditation spots."

As the blue sun continued to grow, something unexpected happened. Rather than challenging the Genesis Seed as the red sun had done, the swollen blue sun drifted toward the canopy under which the red sun and the baby star remained hidden.

"What is it doing?" I wondered, watching with fascination.

The blue sun was emitting pulses of energy in a distinct pattern, almost like speech, but conveyed through light rather than sound.

"Is it... preaching?" Azure asked, sounding as bemused as I felt.

The Genesis Seed remained characteristically unbothered, it acknowledged the blue sun's presence with the spiritual equivalent of a polite nod before returning to its usual activities.

The red sun, however, was clearly agitated. It cowered behind one of the Genesis Seed's larger roots, peeking out with what I could only describe as wary defiance. It seemed to simultaneously fear the blue sun, which now dwarfed it in size, and resent its authority. Occasionally it would flare slightly, as if working up the courage to challenge the interloper, only to shrink back when the blue sun pulsed particularly strongly.

Most amusing was the baby star's reaction. The tiny golden spark bobbed enthusiastically, circling the blue sun with clear admiration. It reminded me of a puppy trying to get the attention of a dignified older dog. The blue sun tolerated this attention with what seemed like benevolent patience, occasionally sending gentle pulses of light toward the excited little star.

"This is certainly new behavior," I commented to Azure. "I never thought I'd see one sun trying to convert the others."

"The blue sun appears to have a much stronger sense of self-importance than the red," Azure noted. "The red sun focuses on raw power and dominance, attempting to challenge anything it perceives as stronger. The blue sun seems more... evangelical. It wants to bring everything into its philosophical framework."

I smiled, not entirely surprised. "Reflecting their respective cultivators, perhaps? The Skybound forcing their will through power, the Lightweavers spreading their 'truth' through conversion."

"And the baby star just wants to be friends with everyone," Azure replied.

The golden spark had always been the most innocent presence in my inner world, untainted by the factional biases of this realm.

After allowing this spiritual drama to play out for a while longer, I decided I'd absorbed enough energy for my first session. The blue sun had grown significantly, roughly three times its original size. Its preaching complete, it retreated to float peacefully in the Northeast quadrant of my inner world, seeming quite satisfied with itself.

I slowly opened my eyes, returning my awareness to the physical world. As my vision focused, I was surprised to find the golden-haired candidate, Aric, watching me with undisguised interest.

"You have remarkable control for a beginner," he murmured, his voice carrying the refined accent of Academy nobility. His meditation completed, he now stood nearby, studying me with those piercing blue eyes.

I unfolded my legs, standing to face him properly. "Thank you," I replied, maintaining my humble village persona. "Though I'm still learning."

"Aric Leminov," he introduced himself with a slight bow, formal but not deferential. "House Leminov."

I returned the bow. "Tomas, formerly of Porvale Village."

A smile touched his lips. "Yes, I've heard. The village boy chosen by the Cerulean Orb." His tone held curiosity rather than condescension. "The Academy hasn't seen such an unconventional candidate in decades."

"I'm still not entirely sure how it happened," I admitted, which wasn't entirely untrue. The orb's reaction to my deliberately released blue sun energy had been far more dramatic than I'd intended.

Aric studied me for a moment longer. "The Orb doesn't make mistakes," he said finally. "If it recognized your resonance, then you belong among the candidates, regardless of birth or training."

I was surprised by his acceptance. Most nobles I'd encountered in cultivation worlds tended to guard their status jealously, viewing outsiders as threats or inferiors. "That's... quite open-minded of you."

He shrugged. "The Blue Sun shines on commoner and noble alike. Only those who can truly hear its music are called to serve as its voice." His expression turned suddenly chagrined. "Oh! I've completely forgotten, we're expected at the formal dinner tonight. All candidates will be present."

"Dinner?" I echoed, having completely forgotten about it.

"The Pre-Selection Feast," Aric explained. "It's tradition for all candidates to dine together the evening before the Selection. Elder Sorrin should have mentioned it when you arrived." He frowned slightly. "Though perhaps in the excitement of your unusual arrival, it was overlooked."

"I appreciate you reminding me," I said. "But I think they forgot to tell me where it is…"

"The Grand Pavilion, sunset," he replied. "Wear your formal robes, the blue ones with silver trim that should have been provided in your quarters."

I nodded, making a mental note to locate these robes I hadn't yet discovered.

"Until then," Aric said with another slight bow before turning to leave.

"Until then," I echoed, watching him go.

An interesting encounter, not what I'd expected from my supposed competition.

As I made my way back to my pavilion, I pondered what I'd learned about the Selection.

A test of pure absorption capacity seemed straightforward, but the distorted time perception complicated things. I'd need to develop a strategy that didn't rely on precise timing.