Truthful Transmigration

Cultivation manuals seemed to be extremely… dense. John could see why the former owner of his body had been reluctant to dive into them. But all it took was a bit of interpretation to find what was important. When the book said a cultivator must have a mind as still as water and a flawless heart, what it really meant was that it was best to practice cultivation somewhere with no distractions. One area he did need to pay attention to even the fine details was the actual cultivation itself, gathering spiritual energy and passing it through his meridians. The first part wasn’t dangerous and was actually supposed to be quite relaxing, but the second had obvious dangers. The path that spiritual energy circulated through the meridians clearly made a difference, though he would need more experience to know how. The dangers from a lack of control were extremely apparent to him, because he found his meridians in their current state. Breaking through to the next stage was harder than normal cultivation, but the results were still clear. Failure was… unpleasant.

It wasn’t clear to John if he could collect spiritual energy, but if he was going to do so his training room was the right place. It was set up for that very purpose without distractions and with a small spiritual gathering array. As he walked into the room with that awareness in mind, he felt his hairs stand on end. Certainly, something was different, but it was hard to say what exactly.

He sat down and steadied his breathing, looking over the manual in front of him once again. This was the moment he would give himself a pep talk, but an internal one seemed more appropriate. ‘You can do this, John Miller. Even if your name is extremely plain, this is something almost everyone in this world can do. And if you can’t… why are you even alive again?’

So the internal pep rally didn’t actually help. What did help was the sound of a trickling fountain and the calming atmosphere. He closed his eyes and reached out for spiritual energy. At least he had Fortkran’s memories to guide him… including a number of initial failures. It was both surprising and extremely natural when he condensed spiritual energy inside his dantian- a strange organ akin to a stomach for storing spiritual energy, in the same way that meridians were veins that carried spiritual energy and not blood. In a way, since all the spiritual energy flowed from there, it was more like a heart… but hearts didn’t really store blood. Maybe… lungs? Or maybe it didn’t have to have an exact analogue.

He wasn’t sure how long it took, but as he breathed in he pulled in spiritual energy, and as he breathed out he expelled mostly just air, leaving the spiritual energy behind in his dantian. It took more than an hour to fill up what he had with the wispy, misty feeling spiritual energy. It was slow, but the process wasn’t unpleasant even so. The next part, however, was much less comfortable.

As he first attempted to circulate the spiritual energy through his meridians he felt a stabbing pain. They had been completely ruined the day before, after all. It made sense that they wouldn’t take well to being used. John sighed. Could he really do nothing? If he continued to take medicine, the benefits would flatten out and the side effects would build up. He looked through some of the cultivation manuals for answers.

He was fortunate that one of them mentioned damaged meridians. It seemed as long as the cultivator was careful, damaged meridians could actually benefit from cultivating. Of course, the potential was also there to cause harm. But though it was his first time making the attempt… he also strangely had experience that came into his mind. He was still getting used to having memories that weren’t his. Would it ever not be strange?

Slowly, carefully, he began again. He didn’t force anything, just pulling a tiny strand of spiritual energy through the beginning of the path. When he felt the pain, he recognized that it wasn’t so bad. It was an aching pain, not of hurting himself but stretching something that was in bad condition. As long as he didn’t take it too far, it would be good for him. As the spiritual energy moved through the damaged meridian, tiny fragments of it broke off, seeping into his body. His body should have already been fortified by spiritual energy as Fortkran had cultivated almost to the Foundation Phase, but it seemed the damage had stretched to more than just the meridians. Though, his body was still better than what John had been used to.

Eventually the strand dried up… but John immediately reached for another to pull along the same path. It went slightly further… further… until he settled into a slow, methodical pattern. As he did so, his thoughts wandered.

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The only sound in the room was a steady beeping. Rhythmic… but not pleasant. Even so, it was better to have it than not. The rising and falling sound let John and his mother know that John’s father was still alive.

The doctors said he would likely recover. He was young enough that a heart attack wasn’t the end of things. That said, it couldn’t be taken lightly either. John had rushed from his class at university when he got the call. Now, he was sitting uncomfortably next to his father, who was asleep. He didn’t need to be there… but being anywhere else he would have the same worries and none of the support. The same was true in the other direction- he could provide support to his parents by his presence. His homework sat open on his lap, but his pencil hadn’t moved in half an hour.

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The hospital room was just the start. With a heart attack came all sorts of complications- and bills. It wasn’t long before John had to drop out- with his parents unable to pay for him, and insurance not covering all of the bills. He got a job working part time at a burger joint. A stopgap job just for the moment, to bring in some extra money. Things started to turn for the better… until disaster struck once again. Once more the news came with a phone call, not from either of his parents but a cousin. A fire had burned down their home. They needed a place to stay, just for a little bit. John and his parents were happy to do so… but helping out was another drain on time and energy.

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A wracking cough filled his lungs. Or… someone’s lungs. John wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to call them his yet. He couldn’t hold back as he coughed up black gunk- black and dark red… blood and something else. It was disgusting… but once he could breathe again, he felt better. His meridians… were still in a bad state, but the throbbing ache was lessened. He had used up most of the spiritual energy he had gathered, but he felt better. Even the black gunk… probably wasn’t bad. Fortkran Tenebach’s memories knew that cultivation could cleanse the impurities from the body. John hadn’t thought it would be quite so literal, but there were other memories of something similar. It was disgusting, but he ultimately felt better.

Now that he knew he could cultivate, at least at a basic level, he needed to know something else. Spiritual energy was the basis of all cultivation, and martial techniques let a cultivator use them… but the core of a cultivator’s true power came from spiritual totems. The difference between a Spiritual Collection Phase cultivator with one and one without was… several times as much power. Twice, three times… even up to five times as much for those who reached the fifth layer. The latter was only accomplished at the Spiritual Collection Phase by world-shattering geniuses, and honestly maybe not at all. The stories weren’t necessarily so accurate… but either way Fortkran had managed to get a third layer totem.

As for the difference at Foundation Phase, it was literally everything. Or said another way, nobody reached Foundation Phase without a spiritual totem. They aided cultivation as well as combat. And at Foundation Phase cultivators could gain a second spiritual totem, and add to their power.

John couldn’t feel a connection to the Claws of Darkness, even now that he had spiritual energy. He wasn’t sure if he could ever reconnect with his real family, but Fortkran’s family was relying on him to cultivate properly. It was the only way to achieve any real status in the world, and personally he didn’t feel like being on the bottom rung in a second world. So he needed a spiritual totem.

Once again, he had memories to guide him. They were better than an instructor… but worse than personal experience. Even so, he was ecstatic to find that as soon as he had the intention to reach out to the spiritual plane and the totems therein that he was pulled out of his body. It was a strange, jarring feeling- but exactly what was supposed to happen. He found himself floating among totems representing anything, of every element. There were swords covered in fire and frost, and some radiating only a sense of pure sharpness. John looked around for anything with the darkness element, spotting a few… but as he approached he felt a pressure- from the entire area. He would have to overcome that pressure to choose a totem… and on higher levels the pressure would be even more.

John let himself be pushed back into his own body. Everything was fine. He hadn’t expected to actually connect to a spiritual totem on his first attempt anyway. He had to get used to the process and strengthen his spiritual energy, then push towards the deepest and strongest level he could, before finally finding something that suited him. So he’d accomplished his goal. He couldn’t even reach out for the spiritual plane if he wasn’t eligible for a totem. As far as dying went, things had been pretty good for him- being taken from his world and put in a body with nearly destroyed meridians was still probably better than death. Though he wasn’t sure how he would feel once someone found out who he really was. He still had to consider that. He couldn’t keep up his honestly pathetic facade for long.