The voices were quiet and distant. Fussy, excited, and anxious.
For some reason, it hurt the heart to hear familiar sounds, coming in inaudibly and muffled. Everything was barely understandable, though the sensations were so pleasing, that brought tears to the eyes.
Anyone would want to reach the hand and grab onto the invisible presence, but the body failed. The eyes stayed closed.
And all that remained was to feel the gusts of the cool wind sliding over the skin: enveloping, frosty, slightly tingling. A familiar feeling that dozed off somewhere in the subcortex of consciousness, but was awakening slowly.
The sounds mixed, twisted, and intertwined, and only one among them stood out. The thunder. It was furious and deafening. Much more distinct than an inaudible hustle. It was rumbling right above the head, sending goosebumps throughout the entire body.
Hao Ning was often told: "It thunders when Heaven is angry. The Gods are furious and we must beg them for mercy. We have to atone for the sins of our ancestors, otherwise, the Gods will never descend again."
And Hao Ning would pray. Exorbitant. Without questions or doubts. Not for the sake of the duty, but for the benefit of simple people. Asking the Gods to protect them and grant them a thriving life.
And then... and then the truth was told and his eyes were opened. He learned the true identity of those immortal people who called themselves Gods. He discovered their hypocrisy and the real reason for their silence. The fact that even one who was blackened was capable of ascending if he showed the proper strength of spirit, was awful. Such a person could easily trample on those he disliked.
The thunder struck again and became more violent, causing Hao Ning to frown as a flash of pain pierced his head. The youth wanted to touch his throbbing temples with cold fingertips, turn on the other side, and curl up, but the frozen body did not give in.
Who... who had told him all this?
– A-Wei...
Hao Ning's breath turned into thick steam, swirling and dissolving in the frosty mountain air. The sensations that arose were clouded by a dark emptiness: cold, lonely, dreary. Only the thunder did not disappear, unbearably slowly dissipating the impenetrable veil.
Hao Ning's long eyelashes trembled as his heavy eyelids opened slightly. His tired eyes reflected bright flashes of heavenly fury, clouded by loss of consciousness and uncertainty of location. Sparkling lightning snakes pierced the dark clouds that covered the sky: gliding in bright, gleaming waves among the frozen clouds. The sad, colorless picture was reminding the observer of its reality only by a dull rumble of thunder, that was shaking the tops of the mountain ranges.
Hao Ning shook his head, trying to get rid of the veil of dream, but immediately bit his lip. The severe pain pierced his entire body. A choking sensation burned through the throat, sending heat through the skin.
A quiet sigh involuntarily escaped the scholar's lips, allowing him to finally come to his senses. The position Hao Ning found himself in was miserable. His body was almost completely entwined with thin spiritual threads, faintly glistening with bluish energy. They tightly entangled the hands, ankles, throat, and torso, tightening further with any careless movement.
Hao Ning carefully gazed to the sides, trying to understand where the threads lead, but managed only to notice a pillar nearby.
Judging by the stretched threads, there were several such shapeless sculptures. The young man himself was sitting on a rounded dais, strongly reminiscent of an empty stone altar with many engraved symbols on it.
It was not difficult for Hao Ning to guess where exactly he ended up, because the mountain, as if split into two unequal halves was a unique place. Its first high peak – proud, straight, and indestructible – sank into the dark skies, piercing them; the second peak, leaning to the side, on the contrary, looked as if afraid to approach them. The scholar turned his head slightly and carefully observed both parts of the Gates. He was seated right in between them, in a deep gorge, tightly hidden from all sides by steep slopes. There was no expected water around, but the flashes of rifts and minor breaches appearing and disappearing were not a good substitute. Moreover, it surpassed all the features of the phenomenon that Hao Ning had previously had a chance to observe.
The Gates were continuously generating the rifts. Many in number, various in size and appearance. Of unpredictable shapes and forms.
A breach emerged instantly in space could immediately explode, burning the skin with a burst of energy. It was an eerie sight. Eerie and frightening. Leaving no questions as to why even such a talented and capable person as Wei Huan could not get close enough to the Gates.
A chill ran through Hao Ning's body. IT was not only the reaction to the surrounding atmosphere. An alien tangible presence nearby – icy, hidden, and dangerous – was comparable to a flash of lightning or a flickering mysterious rift.
– Do you like it? – the dull rumble of a thunderstorm could not drown out the voice that rang in the air. The man did not speak up, but every word was heard clearly. – I have always been attracted to this place. It mesmerizes.
Hao Ning tried to turn his head, but pain immediately reminded of itself with a hissing compression of his neck, threatening to cut his head off at any moment.
– I wouldn't do it if I were you, – Yu Bing Han purred affectionately. – Here. Let me help.
The rustle of the man's hanfu followed his words and showed intentions. The man slowly approached Hao Ning, walking around him from behind and sitting down at a distance of a couple of Chi. Because of this, no matter how much the scholar wanted to, he was forced to feel the man's piercing gaze and look back. Yu Bing Han's immaculate appearance was truly amazing, but now it was different from what the youth had seen before.
It was not gorgeous anymore. As if in punishment for his sins, the true nature of the man seeped onto his skin with twisted black stripes, creeping up his milky-white face and settling on the forehead with ashy stains.
Yu Bing Han saw the youth's gaze and smiled, sliding his fingers over the marks. This gesture could even be considered gentle, but for the noticeable, albeit quickly disappearing, red stripes, left on the skin by sharp nails.
– A small drawback of studying the rifts. – said the former adviser. It could have been worse.
His smile and diligently acting out the casual conversation between two close friends were overshadowed by both Hao Ning's position and the situation as a whole. The young man did not want to play by Yu Bing Han's rules, so he decisively changed the topic.
– What are you plotting?
The strong mask of calm and serenity remained untouched by even a slight flash of irritation. On the contrary, Bing Han only shrugged his shoulders, answering:
– Planning to kill Wei Huan.
Such a callous response made Hao Ning twitch, causing the threads to tighten. Tiny droplets of bluish glow soaring into the air made it clear that the spiritual weapon had cut through the skin. The scholar didn't care. He was shocked. He could not believe that such a person might even exist. The confession of Wei Huan was not in doubt, but Hao Ning could not truly feel the pain, which he had not witnessed. Yet now he finally understood.
It was useless to appeal to Yu Bing Han's morality. Hao Ning was not even going to try. All that was left to him was an attempt to pull himself together and get as much information as possible.
– Why do you need me?
– Honestly, I care not about you. – The man half-closed his eyes. – But you're a good bait for A-Wei. Thinking that he has to protect you, he will look for me much more diligently. After all, he has always been like that: eager to help everyone in need. Wasting his energy on useless, worthless lives. – Yu Bing Han rose to his feet, straightening the silk fabric of his clothes. – He won't be able to save you, but the most important thing is that he will come to find you.
– He won't be able to save me? – Hao Ning couldn't help but grin. – How poorly you know him.
Yu Bing Han looked at the kneeling young man with a contemptuous look. Emotions appeared on his face one after another like waves rising from a sharp blow of the wind. But the man immediately got control of them.
– I know A-Wei very well. Which is why I am sure that he will come to the rescue. Only time is not his ally.
– Why?
– Are you really that narrow-minded or just trying to fish out my plans in such a naive manner? – the Counselor's thin lips stretched into an unnatural smile. – I never share my plots, but you may try to guess.
Hao Ning frowned, looked away, and swallowed. Spiritual threads were burning the skin, tormenting the open wounds. The flashing lightning stunned, confused thoughts, and made him get lost in feelings of helplessness and uncertainty. Grim thoughts distracted Hao Ning from the bleak options for his near future. The chance of Wei Huan finding this place was indeed extremely low.
The endless Middle World could throw a wandering soul anywhere. Bing Han pulled him into the rift in the middle of the battle, leaving Wei Huan with countless options and directions. How could the general guess Hao Ning's location in such a constantly changing world, where every place is filled with the same energy?
And even if Wei Huan somehow succeeded, getting to the gorge filled with rifts would be a difficult and dangerous quest.
Hao Ning's quiet sigh coincided with a strange crackle under his feet. It was so loud and unlike anything the young man had heard in this world that it made him involuntarily shudder, hastily looking down.
– Oh, it happened faster than I expected.
Satisfied, Yu Bing Han ran the silken strands of hair through his fingers, enjoying the sight before him. The rift spreading under Hao Ning was narrow, but it was already impressive in its length and size, causing the nearest spatial cracks to scatter with energy and rapidly converge towards it, strengthening the maw.
Hao Ning's eyes widened in realization of what was happening. Because of the feelings that gripped him, he involuntarily twitched, forgetting about the subsequent pain in his constricted limbs. Standing on his knees, he felt the spreading, seething, overflowing energy of the rift.
– You wanted to send Wei Huan to the depths of the Middle World, but I turned up instead? – Hao Ning bit his lip, trying to speak evenly. – What a misery.
– On the contrary. It was a speck of luck. – Bing Han narrowed his eyes rather. – I needed to lure Wei Huan out, avoiding a fight with him. I wanted to use Jin Yu Ming, but this would have required much more effort from me than a short dialogue with a naïve child who dared to call himself A-Wei's "husband."
Hao Ning exhaled sharply. The calm voice of the Counselor frantically got on his nerves. Never before had the young man felt such open hostility towards anyone. These feelings bubbling in his chest frightened him.
– And I have already said that my goal is to kill Wei Huan, and not just imprison him in another place. Unfortunately, our powers are unequal.
– So this is your true goal, – no matter how Hao Ning tried, his voice trembled treacherously. – By causing Wei Huan pain by reminding him of the past, you want to weaken him. Do you want him to blame himself again for not being able to help the one he wanted to?
– My, oh my! It seems this pretty head of yours is capable of thinking. – Yu Bing Han nodded, touching his fingers to the unopened rift. – His soft heart is a weakness that he never got rid of. For me, this is an opportunity. I need to kill him. – Golden eyes flashed. – I'll kill him and go back to life. I'll be revived.
Bing Han smiled. Hao Ning wanted to hit him. But these were not his feelings: the increasing energy, the man imbued with anger, the hopelessness – everything in this place pushed him to the limit. Hao Ning took a couple of deep breaths, remembering his meditation training and calming his mind.
– You died and ended up here. – the scholar's voice acquired his usual soft notes and balanced tune. – You won't get out.
– No, I didn't. I didn't die, – Yu Bing Han sharply pursed his lips. – There are simply too many rats in Heaven. And I will destroy them all.
Hao Ning got instantly hooked on the information he had received, looking at the counselor from under his brows. His premonition turned out to be correct after all. After Wei Huan's death, something happened in the Heavenly Halls. Something that influenced their participation in the lives of mortals, was the emergence of rumors about the treachery of the Heaven's Devourer and the overthrow of Yu Bing Han into the World of Spirits.
Hao Ning wanted to figure it all out, do it together with Wei Huan, and, having gotten to the bottom of it, ease his enormous burden. Unfortunately, one could not count on any further entertaining story from the demigod looming before him.
How funny it was. The false Ninth Heavenly Lord, closest to mortals, mercilessly killed, but until his last breath praying for the peace of the Devourer. Pure and innocent, forever bound to hear the Song of Sorrow instead of praying chants... The God of Compassion and Forgiveness...
Hao Ning wondered what would his master say if he found out what kind of viper Heaven had warmed in its bosom.
The Scholar closed his eyes, driving away all thoughts, because at that moment he did not have time to think about extraneous things. He would be able to figure everything out later, after which the problem would be solved.
Despite the bleak situation, Hao Ning was not going to fall into despair. Inner peace and a cool head allowed him to assess his situation. At first glance, it seemed hopeless, but the more the scholar analyzed the situation, the more he saw the gaps in the vile plan.
Still, the Middle World acted according to its own rules, which Yu Bing Han could not influence in any way.
The rift was wide and huge, but due to its size, it required a lot of energy to open, which granted Hao Ning plenty of time. The spiritual threads held him tightly, not allowing him to make any move from his place without causing harm to himself, but did not deprive him of the energy spreading inside, for the entire world of spirits. Including Hao Ning himself. Yu Bing Han, distracted by looking at the Gate Peak, stopped paying any attention to the adept. In his eyes, Hao Ning did not pose a threat/ This exact lack of seriousness towards his enemy distinguished the strategist from an experienced warrior.
Hao Ning turned his gaze to the pillar visible on the side, then looked at his hand and slightly moved his fingers. The tips tingled from the energy accumulating on them, while his hand burned unbearably.
In such a situation, it was impossible to summon a fan and use it. Hao Ning bit his lip, closing his eyes. Wei Huan's image appeared before his inner sight. The man was so strong, but caring, strict, and yet gentle. From the very beginning, he was protecting Hao Ning, quietly hiding his torment behind a smile. Broken but still fighting. Finally opening up despite the possibility of experiencing pain again.
Hao Ning wanted to be worthy of that person. Not waiting for salvation or suffering from a missed chance. He wanted to become equal to his God. That is why the decision made was adamant.
The youth's deep breath was quiet, calm, and determined.
His teeth bit lower lip and eyes were closed.
Unnoticed actions allowed Hao Ning to carry out his plan sharply, swiftly, and without unnecessary hesitation.
A howling wind wandered over mountain ranges spread over many miles. Looking into cold caves, seeping into ancient cracks, singing along with the storm the sad song of the frozen World of Spirits.
Flashing lightning pierced the dense veil that hid the darkening sky behind it. Rare shades of scarlet and lilac brought the ghosts of themselves into the thin slits of the clouds until the moment they were drawn in again.
Yu Bing Han looked at the mountain peak, trying to see its sharp top, but no matter how much he peered, it never even partially revealed itself to him. The brewing clouds were the eternal companions of the broken mountain, never leaving it. Like faithful servants, they fenced off and protected the peak from those who wanted to escape from the trap of the World of Spirits.
Doomed souls were always looking for a way out, and Yu Bing Han was no exception. Only he, unlike them, acted wisely. Desperate people had always disgusted him.
The thoughts that filled the man's head dulled his attention, forcing him to continuously look at one point with clouded eyes as if nothing was more important than it. The centuries-long wanderings blurred the memories of the military past, as well as muffled the fighting instincts that had no meaning for Yu Bing Han even during his lifetime, playing a cruel joke on him.
He did not notice the change in the surrounding energy until the moment when the wave of it made him shiver.
The former Counselor immediately turned around. His eyes widened in disbelief. The chained youth, whom he considered only a foolish child tangled with Wei Huan by stupid accident, was now free from the shackles that held him.
Although Hao Ning's legs were still tightly wrapped in Bing Han's threads, all other bonds were pulled away from his weakened body.
– You! – for the first time in his life, Yu Bing Han was unable to find words. His voice trembled.
The picture that appeared before him made the man both angry and confused. The great strategist made a mistake in his calculations. He didn't take into the account how madly Hao Ning was willing to get his only chance to win. And he was ready to risk.
The body, shrouded in the radiance emanating from his wounds. The bright flow of energy was oozing from his missing left hand. Despite this, the young man tightly grasped the summoned fan with his other hand.
– To stretch your claws to my God, you have to meet me first, – spat Hao Ning, wiping the sweating forehead with his palm.
With one sharp swing, he cut the spiritual threads that bound his legs. A flowing stream of energy splashed out along with the torn-off shackles. The release brought long-awaited relief, despite the terrible pain in the open wounds.
Hao Ning's eyes sparkled contentedly as he took a fighting stance: unstable, weakened, but decisive and unyielding. Openly expressing his confidence in his relentless desire to fight to the very end.
This unspoken challenge was not left unanswered. The youth's gaze met bright gold eyes and a wind-raised whirlwind of dark clothes and tousled their hair.
Yu Bing Han clenched the summoned spear in his palm. This is how he killed Wei Huan. This is how he will now kill Hao Ning.
A bolt of lightning flashed across the sky and was reflected along with an alien silhouette in the eyes of the man who had rushed from his seat. Neck marks stretched out like crooked fingers spread across his pallid skin, and the whites filled with bloody stains turned the once beautiful image into a visage of a mad bloodthirsty demon lusting for revenge.
Yu Bing Han pointed forward his spear.
Hao Ning cut the air with his fan.
Two streams of energy clashed in a fierce battle trying to suppress one another.