Attempting to travel at the pace he was used to proved rather difficult for John without access to spiritual energy. That he had gone to Astrein alone was simply another foolish decision in a long chain of them. Avoiding distraction and publicity was the goal, but people would ultimately learn the details of what happened given time. Neither success nor failure would stay secret for long.

Indeed, a random person in the wilderness had already stumbled across him- or more likely been drawn by his attempt to break through. He should have considered that.

But if John was in a state where he was making good decisions, he would not be where he was now. The last few years would be quite different, he imagined.

Instead, here he was dragging his injured body one step at a time towards Lunson. The fact that he could walk was testament to the quality of pills he brought with him, but he still ached with every step. Internal and external burns covered most of his body. He wondered if it would have been better perish quickly, instead of experiencing his cultivation leaking away.

But, as the skies darkened that same evening he approached a small village. It wasn’t much, but making it that far meant he was still alive. And even if he was basically useless as far as this world was concerned, there were still things he could and should do. Like apologize to people for how he had been in recent years. To his family and friends.

He’d hoped to return to them with an Ascending Soul Phase cultivation, something to show he was not just a waste of space. But considering it, was cultivation really important?

Of course it was. But at the same time, it wasn’t. He didn’t become friends with anyone because of their cultivation- though he wasn’t so naive to think that it didn’t help promote positive feelings. Likewise, John’s cultivation could not comfort his children at the loss of their mother. He’d failed at that all on his own.

As he approached the houses of the village looking for a place to stay, John’s thoughts and feelings actually began to settle down. He wasn’t important or powerful anymore… and he actually found himself relieved. Exchanging a few coins for a roof over his head was somehow more satisfying than tirelessly marching on into the night to reach Astrein and somewhere actually meant to receive guests.

He awoke in the morning, still experiencing aches and pains. He ate a simple cold breakfast and carried on. The thought that running into danger on the road might actually kill him passed through his mind. A single violent cultivator or beasts of any note, and that would be the end for him. He should have been afraid, probably. Instead, he was able to put it out of his mind. He didn’t have to watch for threats if it wouldn’t make any difference.

The countryside was nice. Astrein was a good place to live. Rolling fields, both farmland and natural plants, filled his vision from end to end. Normally he would pass it by so quickly, taking little note of anything that didn’t display a high density of spiritual energy.

He politely greeted everyone he passed on the road, simply because he was in a good mood and not because he wanted to make some good impression on them for the sake of the clan. He was aware he received odd looks. Of course it was strange to see someone in fine equipment- or at least equipment that had once been high quality, retaining valuable properties even after it had been aflame- yet find that someone had little to offer in the way of cultivation. John felt only the slightest wisps of spiritual energy inside of him, dancing around pleasantly.

As he traveled, he didn’t actively seek out spiritual energy. If he did, his meridians would ache and his dantian would throb. So he stopped thinking about it, simply letting it be.

Lunson felt so much larger when he arrived, despite not changing at all in the days since he had last passed through the capital. He arrived midday, but the call of a proper bed had him stay in the city and wander about. He visited the markets and the residential district- for those who lived in the city year round, not just when tournaments were taking place. He inspected the arenas as he could, though that meant simply observing from the outside.

That night he slept in a soft bed, though it was merely a room meant for servants or disciples. He could have paid more for a proper suite, though there were few inns that ran such quality at this time. But he found a simple bed perfectly comfortable, certainly adequate to deal with the constant exhaustion he had due to travel and wounds.

In the morning when he awoke, John considered whether it was safe to consume more medicinal pills. Without the ability to circulate his energy, various toxins might build up. Side effects that were easily managed as a cultivator could be quite dangerous for a mundane individual. He still had a small amount of cultivation, but his meridians weren’t in any state to do anything but gently circulate his energy a few times. He did so, mostly just to remind himself that he could.

John decided that simple salves would have to do. Removing bandages, he found his skin cracked and peeling, leaving behind reddish skin in small parts underneath. He slowly applied the salves to his whole body and reapplied bandages. He doubtless looked like a mummy. Or someone with a terrible skin condition, perhaps. That might be why people seemed to avoid him.

As he walked around the road, John found some minor medicinal leaves alongside the road. They were extremely limited in potency, but had a nice minty flavor, which also served to cool the burning sensation in John’s throat. He’d be avoiding hot food for a while, though anything that took serious effort to swallow was also unpleasant. But he took it as a minor annoyance for his new perspective.

He had many apologies to make to Melanthina still. As for Nik, he had to thank the young man for taking care of his daughter. John’s judgment hadn’t gone wrong there. There were others in the Tenebach clan he’d have to seek out as well. His grandfather especially, who had entrusted the clan to him. At least it hadn’t been run into the ground, though that had nothing to do with John.

Then he needed to find others. Renato and Ursel, if she was around. Then Tirto. He had some idea what his son had been up to, but he hadn’t properly visited. Maybe he wouldn’t want to see John, but he had to at least try.

Then… if he thought he could survive the Green Sands, he should see Steve and Yustina. Maybe he’d stop by the Sunfields first. It should be significantly more tolerable with lower cultivation, funnily enough.

Astrein was good. Peaceful. The Stone Conglomerate was also in a pleasant state. Walking along the solid roads made John feel confident. Seeing people pass by for everyday tasks filled John with confidence. Cultivators, meanwhile, rushed by and took in much less than they thought they did.

It took a couple weeks to make his way back to the Tenebach clan. Part of that was his casual pace, and part of it was his inability to actually go faster. He could probably run for a few minutes or power walk for part of the day, but he preferred to go at a pace that would leave him nicely fatigued come evening. Then he would sleep. It was nice. He dreamed of islands within sparkling seas, and for the first time in years the thoughts of Matayal that dredged up didn’t hurt quite so much. He hoped whatever afterlife she was experiencing was peaceful. Or at least the lack of one, if that was how things were. Or maybe a new life as a new person, reincarnated with a blank slate.

He finally made it to the front entrance of the clan. He approached at a measured pace, a serene smile on his face. Funny how almost dying made you appreciate being alive. He just hoped he wouldn’t need a third reminder later.

“Halt!” came a call from in front. “Who goes there?”

John’s eyes settled on the guard there. “I’ve not been gone that long, have I?” John raised an eyebrow.

Another guard appeared to have recognized him, and whispered to the other.

“Ah. F-former head. It is good to see you return.” He swallowed. “I have not the perception to discern your true cultivation, hidden as it is.”

Hidden, was it? Certainly, it was easier to hide smaller things. “Do not worry,” John said as he drew close. “You were simply performing your duty.” The gates were not even closed, as traffic flowed in and out of the clan regularly. John continued his approach, “Besides, I didn’t even have my token out,” he grinned as he produced it from his storage bag. It took a surprising effort to grab that from his bag, but if John was stuck with spiritual energy that functioned only on the level of mild telekinesis… his former life wouldn’t actually be able to complain. How many times had he tried something like that to have no response?

-----

John did not immediately go see Melanthina, though it was not for lack of desire. He didn’t want to disrupt her day. Instead he waited until just before dinner, when she would be done with work. Or at least, technically done for the day. John knew how things tended to drag on.

He wrestled with how he should approach her, and ultimately settled for the most straightforward. “Good evening,” he said as he knocked on the open door to her office and stepped inside.

“... Father?” she looked up, and then her spiritual energy swept over him. She leapt towards him, stopping just short of embracing him. “You’re injured!”

“I’ve had worse,” John said. Though he’d also recovered from worse wounds more quickly. Despite the physical pain, he still reached out and wrapped one arm around her. “It is good to see you again.”

She gently returned his embrace. “You were gone for so long. What were you doing?” She pulled back slightly.

His current state of cultivation should have made that pretty clear. Cultivation damage didn’t happen casually. “Wasting my time on unimportant things,” John shook his head. “Instead of being with my family. I’m sorry.”

He almost wished she would have asked ‘for what’, but there were so many things for him to be sorry for she must have been spoiled for choice.

“You… your cultivation feels weird. I couldn’t sense you.”

John shrugged, “This is how it is now. And I think… that’s fine.” John wasn’t done yet. “How have you been?”

“... Running the clan is difficult,” Melanthina sighed.

“I’m sorry,” John said.

“It’s not-”

“Of course it’s my fault,” John cut her off. “I could have made the transition so much better in many ways. At least I could have been there for you. So I’m sorry for that. And for everything I missed.”

Despite what he thought he deserved, Melanthina didn’t yell at him. She just looked at him with concern. “Are you alright…?”

“Despite what it may look like, I think this is the best I have been since Matayal died.” John took a deep breath. “Though perhaps that doesn’t mean much. At least you… haven’t been wasting your time.”

Melanthina had sat down in a chair, with John across from her. “What were you doing?’

“Up until recently… very little of merit. And then I was attempting to break through to the Ascending Soul Phase.”

“... Did you succeed?”

John frowned. “Do you really need to ask?” It didn’t really bother him to speak of it. “Just look at my cultivation.”

Melanthina bit her lip. “I’ve been trying.”

“Is it not obvious?” he asked.

“It’s… not,” Melanthina shook her head.

How could it not be obvious that he failed? John decided to stop skirting around the subject. Might as well say it directly. “I failed, basically destroying my dantian and ruining my cultivation.”

“Oh.” Melanthina said. “Really?”

“It should not come as a surprise,” John said. “The Ascending Soul Phase is a nearly insurmountable barrier. And it should be obvious by now that I am imperfect.”

“So your cultivation dropped?”

“You say that as if you can’t tell. But here I sit, empty of spiritual energy.”

Melanthina shook her head. “That’s not true. I’ve felt people who were empty. And those who don’t cultivate. You’re like… a blank canvas?”

For the first time in weeks, John took a good long look at himself. His dantian and meridians still showed clear signs of damage. Sinking deeper into his dantian, he still saw the decay in the seas, the sundered islands, and the ash coating everything. But despite all that, he also felt a steady rhythm of spiritual energy… and all five of his totems, seemingly in good repair.