Gleam Karma Cultivator Isekai

Essence constricted around Chance’s chest. Every breath he drew felt like it was a battle that he only just won, and every exhale let the bands tighten even further around him. He’d been trying to cultivate the entire night, but picturing the massive golden being he had seen in his vision made it feel as if the entire world were pressing down on him.

Still, even as labored as his meditation was, Chance could feel the incredible changes that his visualization were doing to his cultivation. As weak as his breaths were, they pushed Essence into his Gate like the bellows of a forge.

The familiar, slightly uncomfortable heat of Essence warmed his body, but it had started to spread from just his chest to his entire chest. As the night passed and he stilled his mind, trying to contemplate Karma and keep the other thoughts from intruding, even that feeling faded into the background.

Throughout the night, he only got a few scarce minutes where he could truly slip into his own mind and contemplate. The rest of the time was spent in discomfort, struggling against the constrictive energy his vison surrounded him with.

When the sun finally arose in the morning, Chance was conflicted. He sat on his bed for nearly an hour longer, his eyes shut and his breathing light. He couldn’t tell if he felt well rested or exhausted.

Slowly, he lit his eyes open. The vision vanished, blown away in an invisible wind, and the heat that had been building within him subsided. He slipped out of bed, stretching his arms above his head.

Covering a yawn, he headed out of his room and downstairs. Several sandwiches already sat on the kitchen counter, and Pete was in his large chair, his feet kicked up on a small bench. Chance snagged one of the sandwiches and sat down across from the old man, pulling his dictionary out and scanning through it as he ate.

The two of them sat in silence until Chance had finished his meal. He flicked through a few more pages of the dictionary, then lowered it.

“You look like you’ve been cultivating,” Pete said with a wry smile. “I’d recognize that look of mild drowsiness anywhere.”

“Yeah,” Chance said with a chuckle. His body felt lighter than he was used to. Not by much, but just by enough that he noticed it. “It’s really different, that’s for sure.”

“You’ll have more than enough time to get used to it,” Pete said. “The changes in most of your future advancements won’t be quite as profound, and you’ll get used to the increased pressure on you when you cultivate. You won’t like it, but you’ll get used to it.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what rank are you?” Chance asked. He paused for a moment then grinned. “Your real rank, not the one you have with the Shikari.”

Pete raised an eyebrow. “Earl. The Shikari have me as a Baron, though. What makes you ask that?”

“Mostly just curiosity,” Chance admitted. “Where would you stand in comparison to the strongest Shikari in the city?”

“Oh, that’s quite the tough question,” Pete said. “The original founders of Gleam are long gone. Their power is probably far beyond anything that anyone on Centurion has access to. They’re beyond gods. But the current ones? Mostly Lords and Saints. Once you hit god rank, there really isn’t much reason to stick around Centurion anymore. And, as an answer – I wouldn’t stand at all. A Lord could snuff my life out with a single move.”

“Ah,” Chance said, grimacing slightly.

Guess I’m not getting his help, then. I don’t want Pete getting killed by Yamish.

“You sure there’s no underlying reason for that question?” Pete asked.

Chance shook his head, shaking some crumbs that had fallen from his sandwich and onto his shirt off. He reddened and brushed them off the couch, moving to throw them out in a trash can.

“Just personal curiosity, really,” Chance said, turning back to Pete. “What rank is Gibson?”

“A Duke.”

“But he’s younger than you, isn’t he?”

Pete chuckled. “Chance, don’t take how old someone looks as how strong they are – especially if they look young. When you reach a certain level of power, you can control your physical appearance and your ageing slows down. Gibson is indeed younger than me, but that doesn’t mean he’s weaker.”

“Ah,” Chance said. “Sorry. But… if this isn’t too personal, why is he stronger? Like, if you’re older, doesn’t that mean you have more time to cultivate?”

“A good question. The unfortunate answer is that I did not stop. I just have not been able to grow stronger. We grow stronger by comprehending our Essence, and I have been stuck at a bottleneck in my understanding for a long time. One day, I hope to surpass these limits. Until then, I’ll remain as I am.”

“There’s nothing you can do?”

“With enough money, perhaps,” Pete said with a shrug. “But I can’t afford anything like that. Not yet, at least. Perhaps in the coming years, or if I ever manage to win a tournament…”

“They pay well?”

“Extraordinarily so,” Pete said with a nod. “Even at your level. The city funnels money toward cultivators with potential.”

“I see. Thank you,” Chance said, snapping his dictionary closed. “When’s the closest tournament?”

“There’s a mixed Foundling and Squire ranked one coming in about a month. I was going to suggest you three try your hand at it, since they’re great practice.”

A month, huh? I guess I’ll have to settle for that. I hope I’ve got the time to waste.

“I see. Care to spar, then?” Chance asked, rolling his neck. “I want to get some movement in before we do our job today.”

“Of course,” Pete replied. The two rose from their chairs. The older man paused for a moment, embarrassment crossing over his features. “Oh, did you want to use the backyard? It’s not very large, but I don’t know if we want to practice in the front.”

“Why?” Chance asked. “Because other houses can afford a better ring? Why would I care what somebody else thinks about us? They’re the ones wasting their time instead of practicing.”

Pete looked taken aback for a moment. Then a small smile crossed his lips and he inclined his head. “Very well. I was simply trying to make sure your own reputation wouldn’t be too poorly impacted by my lack of funding.”

“Why would that matter? If someone’s going to look down on us because we aren’t rich, I don’t think that’s the type of person I’d like to be friends with.”

“Kind. And inexperienced,” Pete said, shaking his head as they walked outside. “You should take any opportunity to grow stronger that you can, Chance. That includes playing by the rules that others expect you to. If you don’t, you won’t have people to back you up when you need their help.”

They took their spots on either end of the lawn in front of the house and turned to face each other.

“If someone judges me by my wealth, then I don’t think they’re going to be the one sticking around to help me out when I need them,” Chance replied, golden mist gathering around his palms as he started to pull on the Essence stored within his Gate. “I’d rather get strong under my own power.”

“Admirable.” Pete’s staff expanded, forming a hammer head at the top. He spun it, then drove the butt of the weapon into the ground. “If that’s the path you wish to walk, then I will not stop you. I just hope it works better for you than it did for me.”

The two dashed at each other. Chance, his instincts honed by weeks of battle against Soothounds, twitched out of the way as Pete’s hammer whistled past his head. The old man was moving far slower than he had been when fighting Bella – he was probably holding back until he could gauge Chance’s strength.

“Where’s your urumi?” Pete asked as Chance bounced to his feet, driving an elbow toward his gut. Pete batted the blow away with the hilt of his hammer and swept it protectively in front of him, forcing Chance to skip to the side.

“I might have gotten in a little bit of a fight,” Chance replied. He didn’t add that he wasn’t sure revealing his new weapon was a great idea.

Actually, I didn’t think this through much at all. Can I even draw on Pete’s Karma? I guess I’m just paying debts for him. That’s a good thing, right?

His third eye snapped open. Golden threads appeared in his vision, binding Pete’s body tightly. Chance yelped and dove forward. In the second that it had taken him to activate the ability, Pete had already moved to swing his hammer again.

Chance dropped to the ground, taking an instant to glance at the nearest strand. The images within it were of a large, gorilla-like monster. The debt was weak at best, and while Chance had never seen the creature before, it didn’t take a genius to guess what it might do.

A furry fist materialized in a shower of gold sparks above Chance’s shoulder. Pete’s eyes widened and he raised his hammer defensively an instant before it crashed into him, sending the Shikari skidding across the grass.

He recovered quickly, darting for Chance before he even had a chance to finish standing up. Pete’s strike was faster this time, and the only thing that kept it from connecting was Chance’s involuntary practice over the past weeks.

Twisting to the side, Chance just barely managed to throw himself to safety. He spun, instinctively reaching for an urumi that wasn’t there. His bracelet whipped out from around his wrist, the leather-wrapped hilt digging into his palm as the blade materialized in his hand.

Ringing like the note of a tuning fork, the urumi expanded and whistled through the air. Pete raised his hammer, but the segmented weapon wasn’t aimed at him. It was aimed at another golden strand – this one belonging to a heavyset imp. Chance wasn’t sure if it was a Greater or Lesser one, but it looked big.

The urumi shimmered with faint golden light as it retracted, snapping back into position in Chance’s arm. Even as cold energy flooded through his body, the glow around the weapon remained.

“That’s new,” Pete observed, hopping back and readying his hammer. “You already bought a magical weapon? Smart lad.”

“Something like that,” Chance said. He darted forward, power pumping through his body. Imps weren’t nearly as fast as Soothounds were, nor did they seem to be as strong as the gorilla monster whose debt Chance had just cut. But, from the energy pumping through his body and the speed that he reached Pete at, Chance decided that they were a pretty good middle ground.

He whipped the hilt of the urumi at Pete’s side, but his only reward was the ringing of metal as Pete blocked the strike. The old man accelerated to match Chance’s newfound speed, pressing him back across the lawn. Their blows rang out in the early morning, and it didn’t take long for his stolen power to start to fade.

Chance severed another thread, drawing strength from a Soothound’s Karma. He instantly increased in speed, almost landing a strike on Pete, but it met the same result as all his other attacks – knocked aside.

Pain shot through Chance’s hand and the urumi spun from his hand. It fell to the grass several feet away from them and Pete slammed his hammer to a halt in the ground beside them, ending the fight.