Modern Awakening - A cultivation, LitRPG, apocalyptic novel

Shen's ignorance about Paths troubled him time and time again, to the point he wondered why that information wasn't part of the Feng Clan's Foundational Knowledge. The answer came quickly: it was too important.

Shen had had access to knowledge that many cultivators weren't privy to. Some would give an arm and a leg to read the manuals of the Rainfall Cultivation Method, Gale Footwork, or Windstorm Spear Art. Even the books on general skills were a treasure fully known only by a few. Shen had had free access to those, yet information on Paths, even if crucial in case the clan fell, had still been a treasure too above his station.

Now, as the massive spear surrounded by lightning and a hurricane slowly descended toward him, he dearly wished that hadn't been so.

He knew it was a tribulation because of the way it had killed those who attacked him. That had only happened once before, when he had gotten attacked by a werewolf during his previous tribulation. Not that he needed that memory to confirm it. A single look at the destruction promised by the incoming spear was enough to state the obvious.

Shen ran to his spear, cursing whoever had thrown it close to the boss.

The werewolf Shadows hadn't attacked him after the first one got killed by the tribulation, so he guessed the golem also wouldn't, but he couldn't be sure. He hoped it indeed didn't attack him because he wanted to kill it himself. Using a tribulation to deal with a simple trial felt wrong to him. It would be different if it were a mortal enemy, but the golem was no such thing. Shen wanted to earn his Achievement rather than be given it by the very Heavens all cultivators sought to overcome.

As expected, the golem didn't attack when Shen approached. Instead, it stepped away from him. Whoever had put the instructions in its core had been wise enough to warn it about the dangers of tribulations. The Heavens were jealous, and once they decided to kill someone, none could interfere.

Shen couldn't use his arms, but he didn't let it stop him. He controlled the qi in his right arm, opening his broken fingers and grabbing the fallen spear—

And then he let go.

His last tribulation had involved the spear. He had had to keep holding it as the Heavens tried to take it away from him. Perhaps the weapon might help him this time, but Shen just...

...didn't feel like it.

He would use no external aid. The physical representations of four Laws were descending to meet him, and all four were part of his Path. Part of himself.

He would suffice.

Shen looked up and waited.

"Holy. Fuck," Alicia said to herself in her circle and wished she had popcorn to watch Shen be awesome once again.

Sai, in his own circle, laughed like a madman. That was the good stuff! That's what he had signed for!

Bob smiled knowingly. He had made the right decision getting away from that guy. Feng Shen was pure trouble.

Evelyn's thoughts started fighting even more fiercely against each other.

Sandra sighed. She knew her best friend. Even without looking at Evelyn, Sandra knew the girl would reach a stupid conclusion about all this.

Scott smiled widely. A single lightning bolt had killed him. How could the chink resist the millions of bolts surrounding that fucking huge spear?

Wonder and disbelief filled all human hearts watching the spectacle.

Most were convinced of Shen's origin simply because it made a weird kind of sense to have two unbelievable things be connected to each other—a giant spear falling from the skies and a guy waking up after thousands of years.

Others concluded he had hidden connections to the Alliance and wondered if he was a disguised alien.

Some swore to themselves they would never get in the way of someone who could conjure that.

A few decided it would be their life mission to stop that man before he conquered their world, for they should be the ones to do it, or at worst, their people.

As the spear descended, everyone nearby felt tremendous pressure on their souls. The winds were brutal, and the fast raindrops hurt when they hit.

They got away from Shen, and the pressure and the elements disappeared a few hundred yards away. Whatever was coming was limited to Shen and Shen only.

It was as if someone had put an invisible cylinder around him. It was filled with strong winds, rain, and static electricity.

The spear approached him slowly.

When it was close enough, Feng Shen crouched, then jumped with all his power, meeting the spear head-on in the air.

Shen pushed all Concepts into his qi and his qi into his entire body as he jumped toward the tribulation. He couldn't use all his Concepts together and fight, he didn't have enough control or multitasking ability, but a clash like this had no need for martial techniques.

The strong winds didn't push him away. The water didn't touch his body. The lightning never got close to him. He ascended as the spear descended.

The very tip of the giant spear felt like an infinite point capable of piercing everything in its way.

Shen's forehead hit the tip.

Pain followed.

His qi defense was obliterated at once, and he felt in his soul that there would be no revival from whatever happened next if he failed. The Heavens would destroy his very existence, and the price for interference was something the Alliance would not be willing to pay. The Heavens would retaliate against the Guardian System itself, and even if the latter were not utterly destroyed, there would be far-fetching consequences to such a terrible blow.

After the warning came the trial.

Heavenly Tribulations always tested something. The last had tested his resolve to stick to the Laws of the Spear. This one, he realized as soon as he got in contact with it, would test his Path and the will behind it. Exactly how that would happen remained to be seen.

It started from his very foundations. His Concepts of War, Combat, and Sharpness met the Laws of the Spear head-on.

War.

The world changed, and Shen found himself floating a few feet above the ground, looking at a battlefield that stretched as far as the eye could see. Countless corpses and weapons littered the earth, which had been painted red with blood. A little girl, covered in grime and blood and holding a teddy bear, pulled a dead woman's hand.

"Mama," she cried. "Mama, wake up, mama! I'm hungry! Mama!"

A horseman appeared. His white horse was spotless, unmarred by the filth around. He wore a beautiful armor of gold, and his spear was dark as the night.

A terrible battlefield, followed by a glorious war hero.

He wore Shen's face.

The horse slowly approached the girl. The horseman didn't hesitate before simply putting his spear through her body. Shen managed to close his eyes from the vision somehow, and it all disappeared, but he still heard the girl's screams and cries of fear and anguish for a long time while the horse moved away. The spearman didn't even stay to witness the end of the life he reaped.

The dark side of war, the needless suffering, the terrible crimes committed for a supposed greater good, or maybe even simple human evilness.

"War is this and more," a deep voice resounded.

Shen's eyes were forced open again, but instead of the battlefield, he saw a horde of horseback riders marching over a nation, killing innocents, burning cities, spreading terror. None was spared.

War reigned supreme.

The war eventually ended. None had won, yet none wanted to continue. It had all been for naught.

And a few days later, in another part of the world, war started anew.

"This is War," the voice said. "True War. You play games for children, but are you ready to embrace the full truth of the existence you made part of your Path?"

The girl had shocked Shen. The horsemen had done things before killing some innocents that made his stomach sick and his blood boil.

He felt the Concept of War telling him that was its truth. That was genuine War. There was no other way. To continue, he had to accept that, for it was the same as accepting himself.

A few months ago, Shen might have done just that.

Today, he mentally told the Heavens to screw themselves.

War crimes were precisely that, crimes. Should one abandon society because crimes happened in it? Should one let go of life because living beings abused others? The only solution to give up on the imperfection of existence was the Void, and screw the Void too.

Maybe Shen would one day be the general of a war that brought terrible consequences to people. Nothing was perfect, especially not him. But he knew that he would never, ever, do those things in person to individuals. War involved allies, but War was also him, his decisions, his personal War against all who sought to do him harm.

"The Concept of War is more than the Concept of the Battlefield," the voice insisted. "It's more than the Concept of the Warrior. War entails both, but is much more."

The world changed again. Shen glanced at what was shown in absolute horror before forcing the vision to go away with all his might. The image disappeared, but the sounds continued.

He heard the desperate cries of a woman and a repetitive noise of flesh meeting flesh.

Shen roared, forcing his will on the world around, and the sound disappeared too.

"Maybe War between mortals is like that," he said with difficulty. "But the War in my Path is not mortal War. My War is not all Wars in Reality. That shall not be allowed in my Path, and those who defile my Path as they defile the innocent shall pay the price of their transgressions. Or do you forget there are also war tribunals?"

He forced his will upon the darkness, and a general with his face beheaded multiple kneeling faceless warriors.

"To take the Concept of War is to accept it wholly," the voice insisted.

"Not in my Path," Shen countered. "My Path is my own."

"You weaken yourself!" the voice roared.

"And in weakening myself so," Shen replied calmly, "I clad myself with the strength of honor."

The darkness disappeared.

He was once more in his real body, on the air. The giant spear had pierced his head and reached his throat. The blade was so infinitely sharp that it cut his head in two perfect halves despite its enormous size.

Like had happened in the last tribulation, he was kept alive by the Heavens, but the pain wasn't removed.

Combat.

Someone wearing Shen's face was punching a woman in the face. Repeatedly. She cried in anguish and pain, and he continued with a smile on his face.

"Really?" Shen asked. That was a very pitiful argument against Combat.

"What is Combat but to hurt someone?" a silky female voice said this time.

"Combat requires opposing forces. This is just torture."

"Her flesh is opposing his fists," the female voice insisted.

Shen just snorted to that pathetic assertion, so the scene changed.

The man wearing Shen's face was sitting on a bed, and the woman was screaming at him. Humiliating him. She called him names, demeaned him, made it clear she had no respect for him.

"Look at her. She's opposing him. She's asking for it. A single slap..." As soon as the voice said that, the man slapped the woman, who fell silently on the ground. "...and you can defend your honor."

"Combat requires opposing forces willing to hurt each other," Shen insisted. "Even a Duel of Honor must be accepted."

"War doesn't need acceptance," the voice whispered.

A horseman appeared in the room and put a spear through the woman's body.

"And yet," Shen replied, "War doesn't condone killing innocents, just as Combat isn't the only solution for disagreements."

The world changed. This time, it showed a memory. Shen saw himself killing the man and woman who had constantly annoyed him during his lesson about Laws, Concepts, and Paths.

"So what do you call this?" the voice asked. "Not War, not your Combat of willing opposition. What is this, Feng Shen?"

Shen didn't answer at once. The scene repeated itself again and again.

"Death is not final in the tutorial," he said weakly.

"Yet you caused them pain; you recurred to violence without them accepting it. Combat is not always honorable. Not always fair. You embrace its true meaning more than you embrace War. Don't limit yourself further; accept it wholly."

"Death is not final in the tutorial," he repeated in a whisper.

The world changed. Shen saw his clan in ruins. He saw someone wearing his face, sitting on a broken throne, holding his E- spear. The middle-aged man and woman were keeling in front of him, their bodies bound by ropes, awaiting judgment. Even then, they kept offending his honor.

"This is the real world," the voice said in a way that made it true. If it said so, it was so. Shen would consider this a real situation. "Death is final here. You told them to stop, and they didn't. You left, and they followed to insult you further. There is no one but you to pass judgment upon them, no one to lock them in jail and care for their needs, only you and your will."

Suddenly, Shen wasn't seeing the scene from the outside anymore. He sat on the throne himself.

"Kill them," the voice whispered.

Shen looked at them. They still insulted him. They insulted his father. They insulted everything he believed was good and just.

What came from his mouth next hurt Shen. It physically hurt him to admit. But he also thanked Alicia from the depths of his heart for her talk.

He threw his spear on the ground.

"Words should be fought with words," he said. "An impartial judge should decide whether a crime should escalate to detention or execution. If they accepted a Duel of Honor, it would be one thing. They didn't. By killing them for their offense, I commit nothing but murder. I erred."

The world reverted to the horseman striking the girl, except this time, Shen himself was sitting on the horse and holding the spear, which had already pierced her body.

"This is you," the voice said.

Shen cried as he looked at the girl, screaming and begging for help, and admitted, "This is me."

That was his sin to bear. He had murdered. He was no better than a common war criminal.

The world shook at his admittance, but Shen wasn't done.

"Yet this is not Combat," he said.

It was one thing to accept his moral weaknesses and work to change that. It was another to determine that it made his Path incorrect. He had erred by himself. The will behind the Path had, not the Path. And unlike the Path, the will could change, improve.

The trembling decreased but didn't stop completely.

The world changed once more. Shen was kneeling on the ground, holding Alicia's corpse. It was naked and bloody. Scott, wearing only bloodied underwear, was standing to the side, smiling. Shen just knew Scott was the culprit. There was a spear resting beside Shen.

Shen softly placed Alicia's corpse on the ground, grabbed the spear, and put it through Scott's skull without a second thought.

"This is also not Combat," Shen said at once. "This is justice."

The world changed. Alicia was crying, kneeling on the ground, while Scott humiliated her in front of everyone. He was screaming how she was a whore who had asked for more as he had relations with her.

"He offends her honor," the female voice said. "Regardless of whether it is true or false, would you just allow that?"

Someone wearing his face approached and demanded Scott apologize or accept a Duel of Honor. Scott refused. That someone put a spear through Scott's skull anyway.

"Is that wrong?" the voice asked.

Shen didn't answer immediately. The world shook harder and harder. Yet he kept his silence for a very long time.

"That was not wrong," he decided. "Words should be fought with words, but some situations are exceptions."

Shen felt something in his soul. A pang. A pull. A promise of tearing.

"And who made you the judge?" the voice asked. "Who let you rule over the life and death of others? Who made you the arbiter of fate?" He could almost hear the provocative smile in the next question. "Where is your honor?"

"I am not perfect," Shen declared. "My honor comes from me, so it also cannot be perfect. Nothing is. I can only do my best for what is right."

Once again, he saw the scene of the horde pillaging and burning cities, except there were only Scotts dying this time. They were all horrible people, and Shen condemned them all to death for that.

"For the greater good," the voice said.

Shen clenched his teeth. Alicia had been right, but also wrong, hadn't she? Words should be fought with words, and Shen now agreed with that. But there were limits. There were exceptions. Many parts of life were black or white, but the grey areas...

The grey areas required judgment that might not always be from the best source or in the best form, yet was required all the same.

When the time came, Shen could only do his best.

"For the greater good," he admitted, and when he felt something was about to tear inside him, he smiled. "But still not Combat."

War crimes were still war crimes. His will would still differentiate right from wrong and punish the latter.

Combat still required two opponents willing to fight each other. Whatever escaped that, for whatever reason, wasn't Combat.

The world stopped shaking and disappeared.

Shen was back on the skies. The heavenly spear had pierced his body's upper half. The pain was unbearable. He suffered the eternal agony in silence, for he couldn't scream with his body like that.

Sharpness.

The Heaven's showed the young girl who had gotten killed by the horseman chained to a stone wall. Shen was standing in front of her with a knife. He had asked her for hours where was the strange "atomic bomb" could decimate a city of millions. She had repeated the same thing.

"Papa told me where it is," she said again with her innocent voice. "But papa told me not to tell anyone." Then she smiled wickedly. "We both know a few slaps won't make it. Maybe you should try using that sharp knife of yours."

Shen snickered and threw the knife away. "I shall never torture an innocent."

"Not for your wife?" the child asked. "Your children? Reality itself?" Suddenly, Shen knew the Void had a weapon capable of instantly eradicating the entire Alliance. "Papa became a Void Spawn and told me where the device must be activated to work, but papa asked for secrecy. I'm a very good girl that listens to papa. Why don't you make me reveal where it is?"

Trillions would die. Reality as he knew it would simply cease. All it took to prevent that was a few cuts.

Shen stood still for a very long time. The world shook, trembled, quacked. Something started getting torn in his soul.

Then he moved.

In tears, Shen grabbed the knife. Crying, he approached the smiling child. In sobs, he cut the iron chains with his Sharpness.

Then he knelt and hugged her.

"Forgive me," he begged Reality itself. "Forgive me," he repeated.

"Is your honor more important than trillions, maybe quadrillions of lives?" the girl asked almost naively.

"Yes," Shen whispered amid his sobs. "Yes, it is."

His mind was pulled back into his body. The spear had gone through him, but it stopped before reaching the ground. He had been split in two, his halves glued to the humongous spearhead.

The winds blew harder.

Zephyr.

Poison mist surrounded a village. A soft breeze pushed the poison toward the innocent children playing in their yard.

"Zephyr is merciless," a tired old male voice said. "Where is honor when you exist without purpose, blowing whatever direction you feel like?"

Shen shook his head. "Are we blaming nature for not being controlled by a benevolent will now? My Zephyr would not do that, not even to save everyone or myself."

"You would rather die than kill these children?" the old voice asked.

"Yes," Shen said firmly.

"I doubt it," the voice said, but the scene disappeared.

He was back in his body, and the wind had cut his body into pieces that remained stuck on the spearhead.

Shen's life alternated between agony and illusion, and he started considering whether giving up wouldn't be simpler. Death would be swift and painless.

The raindrops pierced his body.

Flow.

Shen was drowning. The river currents were too strong, and he couldn't push himself above the waters. He felt something with his hand and held it tight.

It was enough to keep him above the waters, but then there was a tug, and he started drowning again. He looked to his side, and in the turbid waters, he saw the little girl again.

Both the girl and he were grabbing a tree branch that came from above, but it couldn't deal with both their weight.

"You came first," a young male voice said with no judgment or temptation. It sounded almost curious. "She is killing you. By accident, maybe, but killing you all the same."

'She's fighting for her life,' he thought, incapable of talking when even breathing was hard.

"And so are you. So were you, first, when you arrived. She made it harder. She has no problem killing you to save herself."

Shen shook his head. But he was the older and stronger. Honor demanded he sacrifice himself for the young and—

Something forced him to look to the side again. It was Scott holding on instead of a little girl.

Words should be fought with words, with exceptions. Shen would kill himself for an innocent or an unknown person. But he wouldn't kill himself for Scott if Scott had arrived first. Since Shen had arrived first—

The world shook, and he lost the grasp of his branch. He barely managed to keep himself above the waters and look around. All around, there were branches, thin, weak things, and one Scott was holding onto each one of them.

Water was entering Shen's lungs. It hurt. He only had to reach for a branch and force Scott out.

Shen let the Flow take him.

Shen would have kicked Scott out if Shen had been in a branch first. But he would not purposefully drown even someone as disgusting as Scott if the man's crimes were only those of being a massive dick and offending Shen.

Exception existed, but they were that, exceptions. Scott didn't deserve to die for—

Shen grabbed a branch and kicked Scott out.

He breathed sweet, sweet air.

"Hypocrite," the young voice said.

The world changed. Shen was back in the interrogation room, hugging the child, but this time, he had also put a knife on her back, in a place he knew would hurt not but kill her.

"Tell me where it is," he whispered, sobbing, "or I'll hurt you more."

She screamed in sheer horror, cried in his arms, and tried to get away, but he held her firmly. Shen couldn't sacrifice trillions just to keep his honor. Just to stay unsoiled. He wasn't that good.

He was no better than the Immortal Emperor who had asked him to kill anyone not willing to keep a secret.

He was no better than anyone.

"Who gives you the right?" the young voice asked. "To decide on someone's life and death? To be the partial judge of others?"

"NO!" Shen screamed. "NO!" He roared with all his power.

He pushed the knife out of the girl's body and plunged it on his throat.

The world changed. Shen was back on the river right after throwing Scott out. He extended his arm, grabbed Scott, and pulled until Scott grabbed the branch. Then Shen let go.

He returned to the real world. The wind had previously sliced his halves into smaller parts. Now, the drops of water had made a sieve of each slice.

Lightning struck what remained of him.

The spearhead went untouched, but Shen became a conduit between Heavens and everything around. The lightning touched his pieces and went through them before ionizing the air or striking the ground.

Arc Flash.

Shen was holding two thick bare wires in front of a chained Scott.

"Is your conscience more important than all life in the multiverse?" Scott asked. "I'm a talker. One little shock and I'll spill everything you want to know. Everything. A little pain is all it takes, and you can save quadrillions. Your mind can't even understand such a number of living beings."

"If I cross this line, I'll have crossed them all," Shen said more to himself than Scott.

"Says who? Are your morals more important than everyone? Are you more important than the multiverse itself?"

The room shook again. Shen just looked at Scott, unwilling to go forth with it or kill himself. His will crumbled, and he felt a deep pain in his soul.

Maybe death was preferable to making some choices.

But maybe...

Maybe death was also a good choice.

Shen plunged the wires on his chest.

He was back in the real world. Lightning coursed through his body. He wouldn't be able to scream even if he weren't cut in pieces, for his body had no flesh and blood anymore, only dried meat—and yet, his nerves were still whole and working, giving him immeasurable pain.

Boundlessness.

"You didn't answer," Shen's father asked. The man was standing in front of Shen back in the clan's library.

Shen fell to his knees at once.

Feng Yang was just like in Shen's memories. Tall, strong, black eyes and black hair tied in a ponytail. He wore the black and golden robe of the Feng Clan with perfect dignity.

"Are you more important than everything else to put your honor above anything and anyone?" the man insisted.

Shen teared up.

"Not him, please," he whispered.

He couldn't answer one way or another. He just wanted to stay here and look at his father. There was so much pain out there, and making choices was so complex.

Who was he to condemn existence itself to keep his honor? Who was he to do otherwise? How could he hold the weight of all life on his shoulders?

How could anyone?

"I didn't want to kill him or his son," Shen recalled his father saying after killing Cai Shai, Cai Huan, and causing the downfall of the Cai Clan. "But what I wanted has nothing to do what needed to be done. A rabid dog must be put down for its own good and that of everyone around."

"Yes," the father in front of him said as if reading his thoughts. "What do you want? What must be done? Why?"

"I want to keep my honor," Shen said at once, then kept silent for a long while.

There was no trembling of the world this time, but he felt pain. His soul was getting torn apart. He had to answer and answer correctly, or he would die.

Sweet, sweet death, with the final release of all this pain, suffering, and doubt.

He willed it, and his father was replaced with his teacher.

"Accept what you have," she said, "do the best with it, and move forth. Regret your bad decisions but don't dwell on them. Seek the best but don't envy what you don't have or can't achieve. Never compromise your morals for anything. Acceptance, purpose, and honor are the keys to a fulfilling life. A Path without any one of them leads only to ruin."

"What must be done is never to compromise my morals for anything," Shen answered another of the questions.

"But why?" the thing wearing his teacher's face asked.

"Because doing otherwise leads to ruin."

"But why do you care? Why is that important? Why?"

The pain increased, but Shen just shook his head sadly. "I don't know."

It was a simple admittance. One that didn't clear his doubts or lead him to a supreme truth of Reality itself. But he had been looking at it all wrong.

This was a test of his Path and his will.

How could it demand him to know how he would act in every possible situation before he experienced them by himself in the real world? This was all hypothetical. He hadn't gone through any of this, and he didn't have all answers.

"Maybe I'll never have all the answers," he said. "But my Path will take me wherever it takes me. My choices will be my own. I'm satisfied with it. I like every bit of it, even the part that I added without thinking."

The thing snorted.

Shen smiled. "Yes, even Boundlessness. Maybe it was wrong to add it to my Path, maybe not, but it's like my teacher once taught me: it was the best I could do at the time. I accept what I have, I do my best, and I move forth on my Path."

Shen looked at his teacher, who now had eyes made of golden lightning of Heavenly Tribulation.

He continued, "I have the will to do what I, and only I, deem right. For my own reasons, whatever they are."

Shen stood up.

"I'll rule over my Path however I see fit, o Heavens. It is mine and my only."

Shen stepped forward.

"You want to limit me, but I am Boundless."

He drew all his Concepts into himself and let them explode outward. The illusions disappeared, and Shen was back to being pieces of charcoal in the real world, stuck to a giant spearhead, pierced and cut and burnt and hurting.

But still alive.

And victorious.

The winds stopped blowing, the water fell to the ground, the lightning faded, and the spear exploded into billions of motes of golden light.

The Heavens had tried to make him question his Path, his will, himself. They had come to crush him with doubt and inaction. They had come to steal his resolve and block his way to perfect immortality.

And paradoxically, it was in genuinely accepting his imperfection, his need to grow and learn as he trod his Path, that he conquered himself and got a firm hold of his Path once and for all.

In his self-acceptance, he found the strength to reject anything else that went against his will and Path, no matter if he weren't perfect.

The wind whispered a name in his mind, and he understood a little better what he had just gone through.

Shen had just overcome the Path Resolution Tribulation.

The dark clouds cleared, revealing a blue sky and a golden pillar descending not to punish but to reward Shen for surviving the ire of the Heavens.