The two returned to the villa later. Celestia and Elly seemed to have gone out for a morning drink with some of the core disciples, while Marin said she wanted some time alone. 

It was fine, since Tundra had visitors of his own.

“There will be a prayer this morning, Sect Master Fox, the ancestor’s temple humbly invites you to attend. It would be a great honor for us, the members of the Eastheart Ancestral Temple, to host you.” A man wearing what was clearly the Eastheart family uniform, but with an additional orange shawl over his shoulder, appeared outside their door later that morning. 

“Oh. Where is this prayer?”

“The prayer is in the ancestor’s temple. Would you want me to guide you there, Sect Master?”

Tundra didn’t recall ever being invited to the ancestor’s temple of the Eastheart family, so he decided it was worth it. The hunt would only commence tomorrow. The idea was after the extermination, Tundra would make a second sweep through the Dragon Earthspine Mountains for any higher realm beasts, and reduce the threats to the weaker members. “Very well, guide me there.”

The man was quiet, and Tundra felt an unusual air about him. He was probably just in the third realm, but Tundra’s instincts told him he was more than that. 

“So, what is this Eastheart Ancestral Temple?” 

“The Ancestral Temple exists as an institution that is both a part of the Eastheart family, and yet also separate. We exist to venerate our old ancestors, offer them prayers and we try to seek their wisdom. We also care for the less appreciated members of the Eastheart family.”

Tundra thought that was a good way to describe neglect. “I see. How large is this institution?”

The man smiled. “Not large, less than ten full members, though we do have a small staff of our own, that helps us care for about twenty to thirty young children.”

“I see. Do you consider yourself a subsidiary entity of the Eastheart family?”

The man nodded. “In name. But the patriarch, and the patriarchs before him all learned to keep us aside.”

Tundra mulled the statement. “I see. How much interaction do you have with the rest of the family?”

“We invite them for the monthly prayers to our ancestors, and if they come, they come. If they don’t, they don’t.” Marin didn’t describe this part of the family much, and perhaps, she didn’t know much about them. 

“I see.” The Sect master arrived at a pagoda-like structure at the far corners of the Eastheart compound. 

“This way, Sect Master.”

The main prayer hall was filled with hundreds of tablets, all with the names of the earlier Eastheart ancestors. There were placed on what appeared to be a stepped altar with at least fifteen layers, with the oldest of them at the top, and youngest at the bottom. There were multiple Gordon and Miltons on the tablets, as well as many other repeating names. Tundra now realized they probably had some kind of naming scheme for male descendants of the Eastheart family. The male tablets and female tablets were slightly different, and made with different types of wood.

There were three giant gold-plated pots, filled with soil. Each with a giant incense, and a bunch of smaller incense. The scent of the incense was pleasant, and they were likely to be locally made. 

“Please, you may kneel before the altar here. We will begin the prayers soon.” The man walked to a cabinet, and took out what appeared to be a monk’s robe. Soon, then, three others joined him. In total two men, and two women, monks and nuns of the Ancestral Temple. 

Tundra knelt. Here, he was the son-in-law of one of their daughters. It is a belief, a ritual, and Tundra saw it fit to give the ritual respect. The prayer involved chants and wishes, to wish their ancestors well in the afterlife, and that their spirit will continue to watch over their descendants. 

It went on for about an hour, and then it was done. Tundra was then offered three sticks of incense, which he would then offer to their ancestors after a brief prayer before the altar. 

“Sect Master Fox, may we have a little bit more of your time, there is someone who wishes to speak to you.”

Tundra paused and then nodded. The monk, who still had a full head of hair, led him down a path behind the altar. There were a set of stairs that went underground, and that was when Tundra realized the presence of a cultivation-suppression formation. 

“Interesting place and formation.”

The man nodded. “We don’t mean any harm. The formation exists to hide our presence.” 

The door was a wall made of stone that turned when a mechanism was activated, and led Tundra into a vast room, where an old woman waited for him. She sat on a throne that was clearly made to artificially extend her life. But it also meant she wouldn’t be able to leave her throne for very long.

“Greetings, Sect Master Tundra Fox.”

Tundra smiled. The air in the room suggested the old woman was probably in the peak of the 5th realm. “Greetings, elder. May I know how I should address you?”

“I am Mira Eastheart, and I am one of the ancestors of the Eastheart family. There is no need to be so polite, in terms of power, I am but your junior.”

Tundra laughed. “I am still the son-in-law of the Eastheart family, and ancient wisdom would not permit me to be so disrespectful to the secret ancestor of the Eastheart Family.” 

“It is so, isn’t it?” Mira was clearly old. “This throne kept me alive for three thousand years longer than I had any right to live.”

Such items are expensive, so Tundra wondered how they sustained it. The use of such items also drained their potential. The longer one defied the natural lifespan of their soul, the soul’s components withered. It becomes harder to cultivate.

Using the common analogy once more, it is as if the canals and gates used to manage the flow of energy decayed, and the flow of energy through the spiritual roots to the soul is less efficient. 

“Ancestor Mira, may I know why I have been summoned?”

“You’ve met my descendants, no?”

Tundra thought it was obvious. “Yes.”

“They are not very talented, are they?” Ancestor Mira’s statement made Tundra freeze for a brief second.

He answered diplomatically. “They have skills for what they need to do.”

“But they will not reach the levels I did. They will be mediocre. In the pool of a thousand cultivators, they will rank in the four to five hundreds.” Tundra remembered his 5th wife, Marin, and in many ways, Ancestor Mira was right. Marin is mediocre in terms of talent. If she really had talent, she would not have languished in the 3rd realm and died of old age. Her elder brother, Milton, was no better. Tundra suspected only reached the 4th realm because of all the pills he took. His cultivation felt fragile, hollow, and suggested the patterns and design of his cultivation wasn’t great. Marin was better, and he suspected in large part, due to his teachings. 

He looked back at the ancestor. “They rise to the level they are suited to.”

“That is not good enough. I’m disappointed in my descendents, but the leaders of this family, and the environment has ossified.” 

Tundra thought about it, and then asked. “What do you intend to do?”

“Raise them better, of course. The outcome of our investment in our descendants will need to be measured in centuries, our family must accumulate strength.”

Tundra found it interesting that it is a common problem for old patriarchs and ancestors. Perhaps, it is a common worry, because their descendant’s upbringing also reflects on their own qualities. “And what do you propose?”

“I want you to take some of these children with you, before the rot of the Eastheart family gets to them.” 

Tundra frowned. “You want me to take them as disciples?”

“Yes. Personal disciples, if possible, because I see greatness in you that I don’t see in any of my descendants.” 

“Ancestor, a personal disciple isn’t a matter to be taken lightly. A master and a personal disciple is far more than a regular disciple. I would be a second father to the disciple.” Tundra thought about his own relationship with his master. With his family still in rocky waters, that was too much to ask. “The best I can do is to evaluate their qualifications as a normal disciple, and if they are fit, I will admit them normally.”

The old woman didn’t seem too pleased. “What if I offer you a gift?”

Tundra paused. “What sort of gift?”

“Would you want another wife?” 

Tundra almost choked. He thought 3 wives was quite enough, for now. “No. No thanks. Not at the moment. I already have Marin.” 

The old woman’s reaction to his refusal was outright laughter. “It’s a shame that Marin was married to you. She had potential to be better than her father, and perhaps, would have been a decent matriarch.”

“She resented the marriage.” Tundra said.

“I know. But it was the right thing to do. The Eastheart family was not stable then, and the heirs were weak. The family needed the regular supply of resources and pills, in order to enhance our strength.”  Tundra as an alchemist naturally paid his dowry in pills, and on top of that, his wives all received pills from him regularly. 

Now that he thought about it, it wasn’t a good thing that her wives’ pill allowance was redirected elsewhere. 

“But she was not the first, and she won’t be the last to be forced into such marriages.” Mira said. “I was pretty much forced to marry my husband too. I know how she feels.”

Tundra shrugged. At this point, he realized this was just venting, and he was starting to feel tired of this meeting. “I’d like to see the young children. I will assess them now.”

Mira nodded, as the door opened. The man from before came back in, and brought three boys with him. They were all very young, no older than twelve. Tundra didn’t even ask for their names. Instead, he asked for their hands. 

“Show me both your hands.” 

Tundra held all three of their hands, and frowned. In terms of spirit roots, three of them were mostly similar. One had earth, another had wood, and the last boy had metal. 

But Tundra looked at them, and stared at the boy with a birthmark on his face. Somehow, his guts told him this boy could take it. So he did. “I’ll take this one.” 

The other two boys looked sad, and almost wanted to cry, but Mira glared at them and they quietly followed the monk out of the room. “This boy’s name is Marsh Eastheart, he is a distant relative of the main family, and doesn’t receive any of the resources of the main family.”

Tundra looked at Marsh, and nodded. “Well, Marsh, it seems your ancestor wants you to come with me. Will you?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

At this point, Mira cut in. “Marsh, my dear boy, wait outside. I have some more to discuss with the Sect Master.”

The boy obeyed and the door closed once more. 

“Why did you pick him?” 

“He has a metal spirit root. It’s fairly compatible with the techniques I know.”

“No. They were all similar.” Mira countered. “So I want to know why did you chose him.”

“It’s a gut feeling.” Tundra said. “I chose who I chose.”

The ancestor smiled. “You won’t take all 3 of them?” 

“Not today. But not never. Feel free to send them to my sect for an assessment in two years. I’d like to see them toughened up.”

***

Tundra notified one of his disciples to take Marsh Eastheart along, and then decided to return to his guesthouse to rest. 

“You went for the prayer?” Marin asked. She was still lazing on the bed, and in her nightgown. But it was daytime, and almost time for lunch. 

“Yes.”

“Did anything happen?”

“I met your ancestor.” Tundra said frankly.

“You mean the plaques?” Marin said, and Tundra immediately realized she probably wasn’t aware of Mira’s existence. Given the patriarchal nature of their family, it’s likely her father never said anything to her, too. 

“Yes.” Tundra answered, and decided if the ancestor wanted to talk to Marin, she probably would have done so. “I’m also taking one of your distant relatives back to the Verdant Snow Sect.”

That made Marin jump. She immediately sat up and looked at him. “Did my father make you do it?”

“No. The monk asked me to, and I figured why not. He’s a young boy, only 12, and a distant relative.”

That made Marin relax a little, but she still stared at Tundra, as if suspicious. “Is that all? What’s his name?”

“Marsh. The monk wishes me to help bring him up somewhere far away, give him a chance along the path of cultivation.”

“I don’t know him. He must be a really distant member of the Eastheart family.”

“Do they get any resources?” Tundra decided to ask her directly.

His wife seemed to think for a long while, and then sighed. “No. I don’t think they do.”

The regressor then nodded. “Well, if so then the monk’s right to send him to us.”

“Us?”

Tundra smiled. “What do you think your family will think, when a distant member of the Eastheart family becomes a 4th realm cultivator?”

His wife’s eyes widened, and then her lips arced into a wicked smile. “Were you always this petty, husband?”

“I can be.”