16 Caugh (1/2)

Father stopped dead in his tracks.

”Ah. We've been spotted.”

I raised my head and saw mother standing in a power stance, blocking the doorway.

”Did you have fun putting our child inches from death, Carlo?”

Father gulped nervously.

”I didn't see him there?”

It was halfway between a question and a statement. Whatever it was, it wasn't going to help him.

”And you think that that's better? Huh?”

”No?”

Father's sheepish semi-question sent blazing fury into the mother's eyes. She didn't have any qi but… she had a different kind of power.

”I'm banning you from doing this,” she waved her finger in a sassy circle, ”for a week!”

”Please, you know how hard I'm trying…” father groaned.

”You,” she interrupted, ”need to settle down! You have a son now! First you poison him, now this…”

She turned around and started to walk off, letting out one last quip.

”There's no war here Carlo.”

In contrast to her previous tone, this was quieter and tinged with sadness. Father stood still, watching her walk away. When she was out of earshot, he whispered in my ear.

”She's just mad about last week.”

As he carried me back to my nursery, I couldn't help but feel that father had missed the point slightly.

There was no doubt in my mind now that father was a skilled cultivator and fighter. I was desperate to hear his stories and learn his combat techniques, but I could wait.

Fighting had no place in my current lifestyle. Building my physical, spiritual and mental bases was the best use of my time.

Later that day, father brought me into the study to test my cultivation strength. He placed the crystal on my chest, but the light didn't change.

”Hmm,” he mused, ”still Middle Warrior Grade.”

He rubbed my head and smiled at me.

”You have amazing control for your grade!” Somewhat bitterly, he added, ”And you're thirteen years ahead of me…”

I had achieved another minor breakthrough, but my level had stayed the same? Shattering my soul must have brought my cultivation down a step.

Over the coming week, I consolidated my progress and expanded my soul. What interested me most was exploring the house.

Despite her strict gestures, mother's anger was focused on father. As he was restricted, I was released, free to roam.

The library was an interesting place, but a 'library' was perhaps too generous a description of father's book collection. Only a few books dotted the many shelves.

From their titles, I gathered that they covered three topics. Military tactics, historical accounts of battles, and cultivation techniques.

I was only able to see bits of what he wrote each day, but he seemed to be a military historian. Father was clearly a man who lived and breathed war.

Mother was a strong woman, but in a different way. When she wasn't spending time with me, she did chores at an inhuman pace.

She was a clean freak, and every room I entered was spotless. An impressive feat, given the floor space.

There was a large meeting room next to the study, with a beautifully bright dining room behind it. The kitchen and pantry were connected to the dining room in the far corner of the left wing.

My nursery seemed to be a converted spare bedroom in the right wing. Mother slept in the bedroom beside me, and father slept in the only bedroom in the opposite wing.

The first time I went on a secret night time adventure, I found out why he slept there. His snoring put the rumble of his Ocean Parting Strike to shame.

I wanted to see what was outside the walls. I crawled through the circular doorway and out of the house.