WebNovels

Chapter 6 - Chapter 6: A World Beyond Weapons

The Underground Arena was a revelation.

I'd come here expecting a simple fighting pit – cultivators punching each other until someone yielded. What I found instead was a window into an entire world I'd been completely ignorant about.

The preparation room alone made me stop and stare.

A woman in the corner was painting intricate golden symbols on her arms – symbols that glowed and sank into her skin, becoming living tattoos that pulsed with energy. Next to her, a man was feeding crystalline stones to a bird perched on his shoulder. Not a normal bird – this one had scales instead of feathers and breathed small puffs of flame.

"First time?" A girl about my age asked, noticing my wide-eyed staring. She had green markings covering her arms that looked like living vines, actually moving across her skin like they were growing in real-time.

"That obvious?"

She laughed. "You're gawking at everything. Let me guess – you thought cultivation was just meditating and throwing energy around?"

"Basically, yeah."

"Oh, you have so much to learn." She gestured around the room. "That woman painting symbols? Those are Yantra seals. They store extra cultivation energy outside your body, giving you more reserves in combat. The guy with the fire bird? That's a spirit beast – specifically a Fire Myna. They bond with cultivators and can fight alongside them or scout enemies."

I felt like I'd been living under a rock. "I had no idea any of this existed."

"Where are you from? These are basics." She studied me curiously. "What's your name?"

"Kali," I said, using my alias. "And I'm... self-taught. Very self-taught."

"That explains it. I'm Nisha." She flexed her arm, and the vine tattoos glowed brighter, actual small flowers blooming on her skin before disappearing. "These are Vriksha tattoos – plant-based cultivation enhancement. Cost me three months of savings and hurt like hell, but they let me channel nature energy even in places with no plants around."

"That's incredible. Where do you even get something like that?"

"Yantra Master in the Temple District. Old guy named Bholenath." She lowered her voice. "But if you're looking for the really interesting stuff – potions, spirit beast eggs, enhancement pills, illegal cultivation aids – there's a Night Market in the Lower City. Opens after midnight. That's where fighters like us shop."

Before I could ask more, Kalyani's voice boomed through the preparation room. "Match one! Take your positions!"

"Want to watch together?" Nisha asked. "I can explain what's happening. Might be educational for you."

"Please. I need all the education I can get."

We climbed to the spectator stands, and I got my first real look at the arena. It was larger than I'd thought – a circular pit about forty feet in diameter, surrounded by stone stands packed with hundreds of people. The floor was marked with glowing lines – some kind of formation array, I realized.

"Those formations protect the audience," Nisha explained. "Otherwise stray attacks would kill spectators regularly. They also amplify the fighters so everyone can see clearly, and prevent anyone from dying accidentally. You can get hurt badly, but the formation won't let a killing blow land."

"That's... surprisingly considerate for an illegal fighting ring."

"Kalyani runs a good operation. Dead fighters can't pay entry fees or attract crowds."

The first match began, and I immediately understood why Nisha wanted me to watch.

Two fighters entered the arena. The first was a young woman with braided hair and loose, flowing robes. The second was a muscular man covered head to toe in stone-like armor – not worn armor, but his actual skin had transformed into living rock.

"Body Foundation Level 6 versus Level 7," Nisha narrated. "The woman is a Beast Tamer – see the tattoos on her neck? Those are bonding marks. She has at least two spirit beasts contracted. The man is an Earth Cultivator who specializes in Stone Skin technique. This should be interesting."

"Begin!" Kalyani's voice cracked like a whip.

The stone-skinned man charged immediately, each footstep cracking the arena floor. He was fast despite his bulk, closing the distance in seconds.

The woman didn't move. She simply raised her hand and whistled – a sharp, piercing sound.

The air above her shimmered, and suddenly a massive serpent materialized out of nowhere. Not a normal snake – this one was easily fifteen feet long, with scales that shifted between blue and silver like flowing water. Its eyes glowed with intelligence that was distinctly inhuman.

"Jala Naga!" Someone in the crowd shouted. "She has a water serpent!"

The Naga struck like lightning, its body wrapping around the stone man's legs. He tried to smash it with his fists, but the serpent's scales were slick – every blow slid off harmlessly. Then the Naga opened its mouth and released a torrent of water directly into the man's face.

He stumbled back, choking, and that's when the second beast appeared.

From the woman's shadow, a creature emerged that made my breath catch. It looked like a large cat – leopard-sized – but its fur was made of literal darkness that seemed to absorb light. Its eyes burned with purple fire.

"Chhaya Vyaghra," Nisha breathed. "A Shadow Tiger. Those are rare. How did she afford two bonded beasts?"

The Shadow Tiger moved like liquid darkness, circling behind the stone man while he was distracted by the Naga. Then it pounced, not attacking his stone skin but instead sinking into his shadow.

The man screamed. His shadow began fighting him, pulling him down, making him stumble. Meanwhile, the Naga constricted tighter, water flowing over the stone skin, finding cracks, exploiting weaknesses.

"She's not even fighting herself," I realized. "The beasts are doing everything."

"That's Beast Taming cultivation," Nisha explained. "You cultivate by bonding with spirit animals. The stronger your bond, the more powerful they become. Her cultivation level might be lower, but with two high-quality beasts? She's effectively fighting three-on-one."

The match ended when the Shadow Tiger emerged from the man's shadow behind him and bit his neck – not hard enough to seriously injure through the stone skin, but enough to make him yield in panic.

The crowd roared its approval.

I sat back, my mind reeling. "Spirit beasts can be that powerful?"

"If you have the money to buy good eggs and the talent to bond with them, yes. Each beast is different – some are scouts, some are fighters, some have special abilities like that Shadow Tiger's shadow manipulation. Most cultivators can only bond with one, maybe two if they're talented. Three or more requires special techniques or artifacts."

"How much would a spirit beast egg cost?"

"Depends on the bloodline. Common beasts like rats or pigeons? Maybe five to ten gold. Something with decent bloodline like a wolf or hawk? Twenty to fifty gold. Rare bloodlines like Nagas or mythical creatures?" She whistled. "Hundreds of gold. Sometimes thousands. Plus you need bonding pills to help establish the connection, which is another fifty gold minimum."

I did the math in my head. My entire family's annual income was maybe thirty gold. A decent spirit beast was worth more than everything we owned.

"There are other options," Nisha added, seeing my defeated expression. "Wild beasts can be tamed if you find them young and have the skill. Or you can bond with a weaker beast and cultivate it up over time. Won't be as impressive as buying a premium egg, but it's possible."

The second match was equally eye-opening.

This time, both fighters were pure cultivators – no beasts, no visible weapons. Just two young men facing off.

The first had his entire body covered in glowing tattoos – not the pretty decorative kind, but harsh, angular symbols that looked like circuit boards made of light. The second carried a bag at his hip that clinked with glass vials.

"Seal Master versus Alchemist," Nisha said. "This is going to be technical."

"Begin!"

The tattooed fighter moved first, pressing his hands together in a complex gesture. The symbols on his body blazed brighter, and suddenly the air around him distorted. When the alchemist threw a vial at him – which exploded into purple mist on impact – the mist curved around an invisible barrier, never touching him.

"Protection seal," Nisha explained. "He's created a shield using the Yantras on his body. Seal Masters inscribe permanent formations into their skin. It's incredibly painful and expensive, but it lets them activate techniques without using hand signs or cultivation energy."

The alchemist didn't seem bothered. He threw three more vials in quick succession – one exploded into fire, another into ice, the third into a thick smoke that obscured everything.

When the smoke cleared, the tattooed fighter was covered in a layer of frost despite his shield, and the alchemist was holding a sword that definitely hadn't been there before – one that dripped with glowing green liquid.

"Poison coating," Nisha said. "Alchemists can brew potions for everything – healing, enhancement, poison, explosives. In combat, they're unpredictable because you never know what they're going to pull out next."

The fight became a chess match. The Seal Master would activate defensive formations, the Alchemist would counter with different potions. At one point, the Alchemist drank something that made him blur – moving twice as fast as before. The Seal Master responded by activating a gravity seal that made the arena floor around him heavy, slowing the Alchemist down.

It was beautiful in its complexity. Two different cultivation styles, neither relying on raw power, both using preparation and strategy.

The match ended when the Alchemist threw a smoke bomb and swapped positions with a clone – some kind of substitution potion – getting behind the Seal Master and pressing a vial to his neck. Poison paralysis. The Seal Master yielded immediately rather than risk contamination.

"That was amazing," I breathed.

"That was expensive," Nisha corrected. "Did you see how many potions he used? Each one probably cost five to ten silver. And those tattoos on the Seal Master? Each symbol costs gold to have properly inscribed. These aren't poor fighters scraping by. These are people with serious resources."

The third match was pure spectacle.

Both fighters had spirit beasts, but instead of the strategic approach from the first match, this was just chaos. A man with three wolf-like creatures facing off against a woman who had two massive eagles – each with twenty-foot wingspans – and what looked like a giant scorpion made of crystals.

The arena became a battlefield of claws, fangs, and aerial attacks. The wolves coordinated like a pack, using actual tactics to separate the eagles. The crystal scorpion was nearly indestructible, its stinger dripping with venom that crystallized whatever it touched.

"Five beasts between them," I said, awed. "How is that possible?"

"Beast Taming specialists. They sacrifice personal combat ability to bond with multiple creatures. See how neither of them is actually fighting? They're just directing their beasts. It's a risky strategy – if someone gets past the beasts to the tamer, it's over."

The match ended in a draw when one eagle was badly injured and one wolf was knocked unconscious. Both fighters yielded simultaneously, not wanting to lose valuable beasts.

As they left, I saw handlers rushing out with medical supplies – not for the humans, but for the spirit beasts. Healing potions, bandages, even what looked like emergency cultivation pills being fed to the wounded animals.

"Spirit beasts are investments," Nisha explained. "You don't let them die if you can help it. Training a beast to that level takes years and a fortune in resources."

I watched three more matches, each one revealing new aspects of this world I'd been ignorant about.

A woman who could create illusions so realistic that her opponent fought shadows for ten minutes before realizing nothing he was hitting was real.

A man who wielded not a weapon but a fan – and when he waved it, wind blades sharp enough to cut stone manifested.

Two fighters who both used the same element (fire) but in completely different ways – one creating massive explosions, the other weaving fire into delicate constructs like animated phoenixes.

By the end, my head was spinning.

"Overwhelmed?" Nisha asked with a knowing smile.

"Completely. I thought cultivation was about internal energy and maybe sword techniques. I had no idea there were spirit beasts and alchemy and seal formations and illusion techniques and—" I gestured helplessly.

"And those are just the basics. Wait until you learn about domain techniques, law comprehension abilities, bloodline inheritances, divine artifacts..." She stood up, stretching. "Come on. If you're serious about getting stronger, you need to see the Night Market. Can't afford spirit beasts yet, but there's plenty of other stuff that might help you."

"The Night Market?"

"Opens at midnight, runs till dawn. It's where fighters go to spend their winnings. And where desperate people go to find edges they can afford." Her expression turned serious. "But Kali? Be careful what you buy. Lots of fake products, lots of dangerous people. Don't trust anyone selling 'miracle' solutions, and never, ever accept free samples. Nothing is free in the Night Market."

At midnight, I followed Nisha through a maze of back alleys until we reached what looked like an abandoned warehouse. She knocked on a specific door in a specific rhythm, and it swung open.

"Welcome to the Night Market," she said.

We descended stairs into a massive underground cavern, and I stepped into wonder.

The cavern was enormous – easily the size of a football field – filled with countless stalls lit by floating lanterns that burned with flames of every color. Blue fire, green fire, purple fire, some that shifted between colors like auroras. The air smelled of incense and herbs and something sharp and metallic.

And the noise. Vendors calling out their wares, buyers haggling, creatures chirping and hissing and growling from cages.

"Stay close," Nisha warned. "Easy to get lost here."

The first stall we passed had rows of small glass vials filled with glowing liquids. "Healing potions! Enhancement draughts! Breakthrough pills! Guaranteed quality or your money back!"

"That last part is a lie," Nisha muttered. "Once you buy, they won't refund anything. But the healing potions are usually real – basic Amrit Drops. Standard stuff."

I looked at the prices. Five silver per vial for basic healing. My entire arena winnings from a single fight would buy four potions.

The next stall sold spirit beast eggs. I stopped, staring at the display.

Dozens of eggs, each about the size of my fist, sitting on cushions. They were sorted by type with little signs: "Hawk Bloodline - 15 gold", "Wolf Bloodline - 20 gold", "Serpent Bloodline - 18 gold".

In a separate, more secure case: "Fire Myna - 45 gold", "Chhaya Vyaghra (Shadow Tiger) - 200 gold", "Naga (Water Serpent) - 180 gold".

"Those prices are actually reasonable for the Night Market," Nisha said. "Problem is bonding. You need special pills to help establish the connection, which is another 50 gold. Then food – spirit beasts don't eat normal food. They need spirit-infused meat or cultivation pills. That's an ongoing expense. Figure at least five gold per month to feed a basic beast, twenty or more for the rare ones."

"So even if I could afford the egg, I couldn't afford to keep it alive."

"Exactly. That's why most fighters stick to weapons and techniques." She pulled me along. "Come on. Let me show you what's actually useful for someone starting out."

We passed stalls selling weapons – swords, spears, bows, exotic things I didn't recognize. Most were mundane, but some glowed with enchantments. "Durability inscriptions," Nisha explained. "Keeps the weapon from breaking. Basic ones are ten silver, good ones are thirty or more."

A stall sold armor made from spirit beast leather. "Naga scale vest - resistant to water attacks and slashing! Only 80 gold!"

Another sold formation arrays – circular paper talismans covered in complex symbols. "Trap formations, barrier formations, alarm formations! Never be caught off guard!"

"Those are useful," Nisha said. "Especially alarm formations. Stick them around your training area, they'll alert you if someone approaches. Five silver for a basic one."

We stopped at a stall that sold pills and potions. Unlike the flashy healing potion vendor, this one was quieter, run by an elderly woman who looked more like a librarian than an alchemist.

"What do you need, dears?" She asked kindly.

"What can you recommend for someone just starting cultivation?" Nisha asked. "Body Foundation Realm, trying to progress quickly."

"Hmm." The woman selected several bottles. "Foundation Consolidation Pills – help stabilize your cultivation base so you can push for breakthroughs safely. Ten silver for three. Energy Recovery Draughts – restore your cultivation energy faster. Eight silver for two. And if you're really serious..." She pulled out a different bottle with golden pills inside. "Spiritual Awakening Catalyst. Take one when you're ready to break through to Spirit Awakening Realm. Increases success rate by thirty percent. Fifty silver."

Fifty silver. Ten arena fights. But a thirty percent better chance at breakthrough...

"I'll take the Foundation pills," I said, handing over ten silver from my winnings. "And one Energy Recovery Draught."

Four silver left. I was broke again already.

The old woman smiled. "Smart choices. Use the Foundation pills once per week during meditation. Don't overdo it or you'll damage your meridians. The Energy Draught can be used after intense training or combat."

As we continued through the market, I saw more wonders. A stall selling cultivation manuals – technique scrolls that supposedly taught special moves. A man offering to inscribe Yantra tattoos right there in the market (Nisha steered me away from him – "Terrible reputation, his seals fail after a month"). A cage with what looked like a miniature dragon, labeled "Garuda chick - 500 gold".

"That's actually a baby Garuda?" I stared. In Hindu mythology, Garudas were divine eagles that served Vishnu.

"Garuda bloodline, probably diluted," Nisha corrected. "Real pure Garudas are worth thousands of gold and usually only bond with royalty or sect leaders. But even diluted bloodline Garudas are powerful. That one will grow to the size of a horse and could match a Core Formation cultivator when fully grown."

In the back of the market, away from the main crowds, I found a quiet stall that was different from the others. Instead of flashy displays, it had a simple table with a cloth over it. An old woman sat behind it, smoking a long pipe.

"Come here, girl," she said without looking up. "You reek of questions."

I approached cautiously. Nisha grabbed my arm, whispering, "That's a Jyotish. A fortune teller. They're usually scammers."

But something made me stop anyway. "What do you mean?"

The old woman finally looked up, and I saw her eyes were completely white – no pupils, no irises. Blind. "You want to know if you can survive. If you can get strong enough. If you can matter in a world where everyone starts ahead of you." She exhaled smoke that formed symbols in the air – Sanskrit characters that seemed to glow. "Ten silver, and I'll read your path."

It was half my remaining money. But something in her blind eyes seemed genuine.

I placed ten silver on the table.

She gestured for my hand. I gave it to her, and she traced the lines on my palm with fingers that felt like dried paper.

"Mmm. Interesting. Your life line breaks – death and rebirth. Your fate line splits – two paths, two possibilities. And your heart line..." She chuckled dryly. "Complicated. Very complicated. Multiple threads, tangled together. Messier than most."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you're going to have a very interesting life, child. Pain, yes. Loss, certainly. But also power. Growth. Transformation." She released my hand. "You're looking for ways to get stronger. Spirit beasts, potions, all these external aids. But here's what the threads tell me: your strength will come from within. From bonds you forge. From a weapon that's more than metal. From allies who see you, not the mask you wear."

Sharanga warmed on my wrist, responding to her words.

"Three pieces of advice," she continued. "First: don't dismiss the small and seemingly weak. The tiny serpent in the market stall may matter more than the expensive Garuda. Second: trust your instincts about people. You'll know who's truly ally and who's wearing friendly masks. Third: patience. You want to rush, to prove yourself. But seeds need time to grow. Rush them, and they die."

She waved me away. "Now go. You've gotten what you paid for."

As Nisha and I left the market, my mind was racing with everything I'd seen and learned.

"So," Nisha said. "What's your plan? Going to save up for a spirit beast? Buy more pills? Get some tattoos?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "There's so much I didn't even know existed. I need to think. Learn more. Figure out what actually makes sense for my cultivation path."

"Smart. Lots of new fighters blow all their money on fancy stuff they don't understand." She paused. "But Kali? Whatever you decide, remember: in the end, all these tools – the beasts, the pills, the seals – they're just tools. Your real power comes from here." She tapped her chest. "From how hard you're willing to work. How much you're willing to sacrifice. How smart you are about using what you have."

We parted ways at the market entrance, and I made my way home as dawn was breaking.

My room was empty for once – no unexpected visitors. Just me, exhausted and overwhelmed, with three Foundation Consolidation Pills in my pocket and a head full of new knowledge.

"That was enlightening," Sharanga said.

"That was terrifying," I corrected. "There's so much I don't know. So many ways to cultivate that I haven't even considered."

"So you'll learn. That's why we're training."

I looked at the pills on my desk, then at Sharanga's bracelet form on my wrist. "That fortune teller said my strength would come from within. From bonds. From you."

"She wasn't wrong. Divine weapons grow with their wielders. The stronger our bond, the more of my power you can access." Sharanga paused. "But she was also right about patience. You can't rush cultivation. Even weapon cultivation has limits."

"I know. I just..." I thought about all those spirit beasts fighting alongside their tamers. The alchemist's arsenal of potions. The Seal Master's elaborate tattoos. "I feel like everyone else has advantages I don't. They have money for eggs and pills. They have family techniques and resources. I have you, and that's incredible, but it also feels like I'm missing half the game."

"You're not playing their game, little archer. You're playing yours. Weapon cultivation is rare precisely because it's difficult. But those who master it..." Sharanga's voice grew distant, remembering. "My last wielder could fire arrows that split mountains. Could call down lightning from clear skies. Could hit targets in different kingdoms without ever missing. That power didn't come from spirit beasts or pills. It came from our bond."

I looked out the window at the rising sun. "Then I guess I need to focus on strengthening that bond. And maybe, eventually, finding one or two aids that complement weapon cultivation instead of trying to do everything at once."

"Wise decision. Master what you have before adding more complexity."

As I prepared for a few hours of sleep before the day began, I thought about the fortune teller's words. About the small serpent being more important than the expensive Garuda. About patience and growth and not rushing.

Maybe she was right. Maybe I didn't need to compete with Beast Tamers and Alchemists. Maybe I just needed to become the best weapon cultivator I could be.

But still... a small voice in my head whispered. A spirit beast companion would be nice. Someday. When I could afford one.

For now though, I had Foundation pills, a divine bow, two months until a tournament, and a determination to prove that the Trash Princess was more than anyone expected.

That would have to be enough.

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