The mistress of the Beast Court, an elderly woman everyone simply called Madam Hu, had lived more than sixty winters. Her back was permanently hunched, her gait slow and stiff, and her face carried the lines of both time and responsibility. She seldom smiled, and when she spoke it was usually with a flat, humorless tone that discouraged idle chatter.
And yet, when it came to Ji En, her manner was unexpectedly gentle. She personally escorted him to his quarters—a small but well-kept chamber reserved for assistant wardens of the Beast Court. It was no palace, but compared to the bleak inns and roadside shrines he had slept in during his travels, the room was clean, quiet, and most importantly, his own.
The Beast Court itself was vast, for the Soul-Suppressing Alliance sat at the heart of four mountains. Each peak was home to a different sect or order: the mist-veiled Youyun Sect, the mysterious Divine Daoists, the scholars of the Expository School, and the sharp, dangerous warriors of the Intercepting Sect. Because these powers all held residence around the Alliance's headquarters, the stables and beast-yards had been divided accordingly—one great main court beneath the eastern mountain, and three smaller branch courts beneath the other peaks.
This arrangement was not merely for convenience. Should war come—and war was already stirring on the horizon—every cultivator would need to summon their mounts with the swiftness of lightning. Scattering the beast-yards across the four mountains meant that when the call came, warriors could reach their companions without chaos or delay.
After seeing Ji En settled, Madam Hu wasted no more words. She waved over a short, wizened man chewing on a bamboo pipe and ordered him to guide the newcomer around.
"This is Old Wang, Seventh of his line," she said curtly. "Our physician for beasts. He knows the place better than I."
Ji En bowed politely. Old Wang looked older even than Madam Hu, though he moved with surprising energy. His small eyes crinkled with constant mirth, and his lips rarely paused between words. If Madam Hu was stone, Old Wang was running water.
As they walked, Wang puffed smoke from his pipe and waved a gnarled hand toward the pens and sheds around them.
"See that sow? Difficult birth, near died—I pulled her litter out with my own hands. And that ox? Bloated near to bursting, but I set him right. And that mare—milkless after foaling—hah! My concoctions had her flowing like a spring."
On and on he went, recounting tales of beasts healed and lives saved. It was clear that whether or not every claim was true, Old Wang believed himself indispensable.
But Ji En's interest did not linger on pigs, cattle, or common horses. What drew his eyes was what lay further uphill: the mounts of cultivators.
At last, Old Wang led him toward the higher groves where these extraordinary beasts were kept.
"The Alliance has more than ten thousand cultivators," the old man explained, tapping his pipe against his palm. "Only those who have stepped firmly into the Foundation stage or higher may claim a mount. By current tally, there are over three thousand of them. Birds and beasts, half and half."
He pointed as he spoke: eagles and cranes perched on lofty beams; panthers and stags pacing beneath wooden awnings. And these were only the ordinary ones. Higher up, rarer creatures stirred. Ancient breeds whose blood carried the echoes of myth.
Ji En's eyes widened.
"To tend these mounts," Old Wang went on, "is no light task. Their masters treasure them like kin. Fail your duty, and you'll taste their wrath. But—" his tone brightened, "—if you serve them well, they'll reward you. A pouch of silver, a charm, perhaps even a martial technique or two. I myself once learned a qi-calming exercise from a grateful swordsman."
The old man gave Ji En a sideways glance, lowering his voice as if to share a secret.
"Speaking of martial arts… I hear you asked for the Threefold True Flame? Bah! Even the Alliance Master himself could not master it. Why not something simpler, eh? The Flamecloud Palm, or the Blazing Sun Fist—solid arts from the Fire-Arrow Sect. Master them, and you'd make a name for yourself in half a year."
Ji En shook his head with a rueful smile. "It wasn't my request. The Alliance Master offered it to me himself."
Old Wang sucked on his pipe, then chuckled. "A clever move. You saved his daughter's life, so he honored you with the sect's supreme secret art. That way, no one can accuse him of withholding, and at the same time… no one expects you to succeed. The Fire-Arrow Sect never shares its teachings outside the bloodline. You know that, don't you?"
Ji En thought of Feng Tianyu, who had risen in rank despite his cruelty. His lips tightened. "Their standards don't seem so high to me."
Old Wang's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Oh? Care to tell me why the young lady of the Alliance chased Tianyu with a sword that day?"
Ji En gave him a hard look. "Call me by my full name."
"Fine, fine—Ji En," Old Wang said cheerfully. "But it doesn't sound half so friendly."
Ji En quickened his pace. "Stop prying. You still have to show me the northern branch before dusk."
When Old Wang realized the young man's lips were sealed, he laughed and let the matter drop. Together they climbed into the forest where the higher-tier mounts dwelled.
The layout impressed Ji En. The beast shelters were not packed together but carefully spaced, each a good fifteen paces apart, linked by well-kept paths. Birds had perches and flight beams. Beasts had lanes leading down toward the mountain's main road. In the event of alarm, hundreds of mounts could charge into the sky or thunder downhill without colliding.
The shelters were built in tiers, nine ascending levels. The further up, the fewer and stranger the creatures. Only the greatest lords of the Alliance housed their companions at the top.
"See there?" Old Wang pointed upward. "The Alliance Master himself rides a Golden-Winged Roc. But don't think of getting near. We common keepers aren't permitted above the seventh tier."
Ji En's gaze lingered on the heights, though his memory caught on two lower perches. One belonged to Feng Tianyu—a white crane with a streak of black across its brow, caged on the fifth level. Another belonged once to Ling Yue. Her white crane's stall was now empty, the bird slain in battle.
The eastern slope also hosted many mounts of the Intercepting Sect. These, Ji En found, were rarely ordinary. Even beasts that looked simple often carried hidden powers.
They paused before a polished white boulder where, to Ji En's astonishment, a massive golden three-legged toad lazed in the sun. Its skin gleamed like hammered bronze, its throat swelling with each slow breath.
"Don't tell me…" Ji En murmured.
"Oh, it's a mount, all right," Old Wang said with relish. "Belongs to Immortal Xiaolei. Don't laugh—it can fly."
"A toad? Fly?" Ji En raised a brow.
"Throw a stone at it and see." Old Wang grinned wickedly.
Before Ji En could reply, a booming voice rang down from the higher slope.
"Old Wang! Have you grown tired of living?"
Old Wang barked laughter. "Strike me and I'll lace your toad's feed with laxatives, you old buzzard!"
"Begone, trickster, before I silence you myself!" the unseen Xiaolei growled.
The old beast-physician only chuckled, tugging Ji En onward.
"Was that truly Immortal Xiaolei?" Ji En whispered.
"None other," Old Wang said smugly.
"And you dare trade insults with him?"
The old man puffed up his chest. "Don't underestimate me, boy. I may look like a withered husk, but I carry skills few can match. Even the Immortals grant me three parts respect."
"What skills?" Ji En asked, half doubtful.
Before Old Wang could answer, the Immortal's voice thundered again from above.
"Don't listen to his boasting, youngster! His 'skills' amount to patching sick beasts, nothing more!"
"I heal men as well as beasts!" Old Wang shouted back indignantly.
"Ha! Tell that to Gatekeeper Gao, who died under your care!"
"That wasn't my fault—he refused proper treatment!" Old Wang retorted.
The Immortal's laughter rolled down the mountain like thunder, leaving Old Wang scowling.
"Come, come," he muttered, dragging Ji En along. "No use arguing with that crow. Let's head for the northern slope. Less noise, more beasts."
Ji En followed, suppressing a smile. Whatever else the Beast Court held, it promised to be far from dull.