Jiang Chen Omake - Failure
Jiang Chen simply lay there in shock, when he first awoke. All his training, his plans, his ambitions... and he came in Seventh place!?! And a joint Seventh at that! In his heart, he cursed the wretched Senior Disciple who had managed to land a blow on him just as he was making his coup de grace. His Armour, Copper Grade though it was, had failed to protect him, and even the modest blow of the other Disciple had been enough to incapacitate him for a long while, his flesh unable to keep up with his Spirit.
Jiang Chen fumed to himself in silence. He was aware that his fellow Disciples were further advanced in their cultivation, the strongest among them even ahead by a couple of steps, verging on reaching Soldier, and that many among them focused on honing their body over their Spirit, like he did, but, between his blade and his skill, he had thought he could make up that difference, that his technique, finesse, and reflexes could triumph over the raw brute power available to his fellow Disciples. But no, it was not to be, and now, here he lay, once more, in the infirmary.
As with his previous stay here, he went over the fight in his mind. Making calculations, choosing moves, making further calculations, and so on and so forth, as he contemplated how he could have won, but to his chagrin, he found little insight in the action. The Disciple, indeed, had been less skilled than him in swordsmanship and, now that he lay here in an infirmary bed, he could come up with all manner of ways he could have overcome his opponent, indeed, the odds should have been in his favour when he accounted for the quality equipment he had been gifted by the Elders. But in the moment, as decisions needed to be made and he could not simply ponder the optimal strategy, he had erred, and left himself vulnerable. He had let himself be weak.
An Unforgivable misstep, but one he would work to correct. It was clear, now, that simple spars and training by himself would no longer do. His body, for a Peasant, was weak, vulnerable, but his Spirit, the hand guiding his blade was strong, all he had to do was get it to its destination, and fine steel would do the rest. Indeed, what he needed was live training, honing himself against foes that would force him to react or suffer the consequences. And for such dangerous training, he needed to find an Elder.