Journey of the First Tama-Artist after words:
Everything that exists or are from an existing matter, LIFE, and even chaos is from it. However, men —who are a shadow of perfection— create nonexistent matter, giving birth to DEATH. Every matter must dissolve into its origin to archive perfection.
This also occurs to Tama —gifts to creations. They might appear to the world of matter as intricate jewels of various colours and shapes that give those who were brought into existence power. That said, unless one understands and absorbs the Origin matter in that Tama, they will never reach true perfection.
My friends scattered over the world; those of generations to come, I leave this mystery of existence in your hands, so that you may manumit yourselves from the autocrats hidden among you. However, I know that in a different age, most will take the art of Tamaism to harass others; I've no problem with that.
If you want to save yourself, get strong in wisdom and strength to understand the mysteries in my book.
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'Tama surely is something that makes one stand at the apex of humanity.'
Lucien couldn't get the images that transpired a month ago straight for him to understand:
The Hill Cat shook greatly as blood gushed out from the hole they had dug. Before anything happened the Shojo —Shinji's love interest— appeared in a instant, snapping her fingers transporting everyone to the top of a giant eagle in the air.
The scene was still vivid in Lucy's mind... it's not like he could forget things in the first place.
'Will I ever be able to defeat someone like her?'
Lucy experienced a slight pause in his movements at such hypocrisy. It was a question people would wonder if he was mentally sound, depressed, or having challenges in life that prompted him to perform such a suicidal task.
Dropping the issue, he sang along the village anthem with the others:
"Past the great rivers, you're my only one, my hope, my home..."
...it was embarrassing to say the least, but it was mandatory that every mortal sings it during their training sessions
Wapaa!!
A loud whipping sound echoed from behind Lucien as one of the mortals got lashed for slacking, leaving him screaming:
"Spare me, great lord! I will do harder this time!"
Wapaa!!
Another whipping sound echoed, as a Tama-Artist roars:
"Shut up you lazy bastard!"
It was the youngest Bushi in the group who wasn't included in picking Lucy and the others. Thanks to being 24, he still had a lot of energy, flaunting his arrogant young master aura.
"This is your work, preserving your life! I'm a Tama-Artist, I don't die! It's you who die fighting profound beasts!"
The ugly one was lying with a devil's grin on his face, and lashed at the poor soul again. Even as someone born a mortal he didn't show mercy to his kind —he is whipping his brother.
Such are the acts of power....
Lucien didn't spare them a glance, he knew that if one is weak even worms will call you their son.
With a clear mind, Lucy continues to swing and strike his new silver otsuchi in the air, creating large gusts of wind around the dirt training ground. (1)
Unlike the others who came with him, Lucy uses a hammer. And, no one was willing to exchange blows with him, they were scared of the rumors, but the giant hammer itself sent shivers down anyone's spine. At the end of the day, he would train alone in the vast training ground with nearly one hundred thousand people.
On a brighter note, his power is taking up less fatigue; his martial art was drawing out color - although far away from perfection. The moves are starting to link; his hammer was blending in with his footwork, giving him an advantage boost.
'Part of it is because of Shinji's advice...'
Lucy didn't want to deny it, but the beige-haired young man is good at choreography. He had talked about it in a whimsical manner to not hurt his feelings —that made it more insulting.
'He is helpful most of the time... if only it weren't for his flaw he would be a great person.'
Taking a glance at the Main Character of the story lazily playing with arrows, evading the Tama-Artists' sight, Lucy sighs lightly.
He knows that when Shinji discloses his illness, he would be impaled to death... worse, crucified before being rolled on fire like a piece of meat. They are rumors around it. The most recent case is about a guy who had suddenly caught malaria being put on the rack —ropes were attached to his joints, pulled hard until he ripped apart into four segments.
The most haunting statements are that sometimes the Tama-Artists would skin a person alive living him to die from hypothermia. Moreover, the common one is that they would feed a person milk and honey, apply honey to his body like lotion, tie him up in the forest; the victim could die from the combustion in his stomach or insect bites... better, both.
Surely, human cruelty has no boundaries.
Although, Lucien was skeptical about some stories —they sounded like myths to scare the newbies— since a blind person was kept here, he didn't try to taste the waters, he was already on their boundaries.
Unfortunately, some tried getting sick recently... their human waste was never seen after being guided to the peripheries of the training camp... maybe, there are the meat they ate for dinner last night —let's live for the reader's imagination - Tsukino and Tento did see a weird eyeballs in their dishes.
Anyway...
Time passed, and the only sounds echoing through the training ground were that of the village anthem, clash of blades, gushes of wind and the breathing of men, with faint arrow whispers.
When the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the landscape, a loud drumming sound echoed through the military camp, and almost everyone rushed out of the training ground with their weapons in hand.
The remaining individuals, however, were waiting to receive their daily initiation from the samurai. Soon, the Bushi arrived, swinging their whips and making crisp sounds echo in the air.
"You know the drill! Everybody, line up!"
The group lay on the ground. Meanwhile, the Bushi laughed like angels taking turns whipping demons and sinners in the underworld. Withal, it's the sinners holding the whips and are beyond cruel as some are hot enough to burn through one's skin.
After an hour or so of continuous lashing, the mortals were sent to the wheat field, before being brought for another round of whipping.
This has been their new life since arriving at the camp. What else would they do? One has to suffer the consequences of being weak in such a world... and at the point whipping didn't hurt any more.
One can only imagine how much they were beaten to reach such a level.
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(1) Otsuchi — a war hammer used to bang large doors.