Coreless Cultivator: a Litrpg Cultivation story

02 Chosen

The Elder turned to him with a kind smile and motioned for him to step up on the small platform. For a moment, Alric wanted to bolt and find a place to hide. The whole thing just felt overwhelming.

His legs shook, and he almost wasn't sure he'd be able to move without falling over. Then, somehow, he found a fatalistic calmness inside him. Whatever would be, would be. He'd already lost his family and everyone he knew. In a very real sense, the worst was behind him.

He stepped up onto the platform and looked out over the assembled tradespeople. There was a lot less of a reaction than he expected. Some of them looked curious, of course, but that was to be expected. To his surprise, most of them looked bored. It appeared they were restlessly looking forward to the conclusion of the event. Most of them couldn't care less about Alric and his story.

That was reassuring for some reason. People were just being people and nobody was judging him. At least, not yet.

Alric squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. This was going to be alright.

"Our last orphan, Alric, comes to us with a most peculiar story, and I will take a moment to explain," the Elder said. He steepled his fingers and his voice took on a lecturing tone. "Alric has been struck by tragedy twice. The first time was when he was seven years old. Up to that point, Alric had been a normal boy with a bright future. He had a baby core, of course, but it looked like he was developing a dual affinity for air and life—especially for life—and that is how the tragedy happened.

"Alric had an older brother who he liked to hang around with, and one day that older brother climbed a tree. He climbed quite high, and when the branch he was standing on broke, he fell a good distance. His body smashed into the ground, breaking bones and rupturing many of his internal organs.

"The older brother would have died that day, except that Alric, with no formal training and no real power of his own, healed him."

The people that were paying attention, gasped in surprise. Healing at the age of seven was unheard of. Only a cultivation genius would have been able to do that.

"I've read the reports, and Alric stated that he was just going on instinct. He thought he was burning his life force, and he didn't mind giving up some of his years to keep his brother alive. Instead of burning life, though, he burned his core."

Again, everyone gasped. That was just crazy.

"By the time a soother could arrive, the damage to Alric had been done. He no longer had a core."

Almost everyone was paying attention by this point, and Alric felt the sympathy of the crowd wash over him. That felt familiar. He was used to sympathy. He'd gotten a lot of it ever since the accident.

"Alric's brother made a full recovery," the Elder continued, "but Alric did not. The soother hoped that Alric's core would grow back again, but that did not happen. More soothers examined Alric and suggested various treatments, but nothing worked. His parents even traveled to the nearest city and begged a soother of the silver rank to examine him.

"From what I've read, it took letters of reference, months of patience, and a fee big enough to involve his entire village for the silver soother to see him. All of that was to no avail. Alric remained coreless."

The Elder paused to let his story sink in. He gave Alric a smile and Alric smiled back.

Alric was just glad he hadn't had to tell the story himself. He hated doing that.

"Not having a core, or permanent cultivation of any kind, has affected Alric physically. His growth has been stunted, and although he is sixteen years old, his body is smaller and less developed than a normal wooden or stone cultivator."