In the outer courtyard of Lu Chen's sect, the Sky-Reaching Sect, in a rarely-used pavilion, a peculiar scene unfolded.
An altar had been erected. At its center, propped up clumsily, was a hastily-drawn portrait on a scrap of spirit parchment. The face in the portrait bore a vague, scowling resemblance to Lu Chen. A single, cheap-looking stick of low-grade incense smoked in front of it.
Gathered before it were seven outer disciples. Four of them. Mo Tian, the two Brutes, and the Dagger-Wielder. Their eyes were red, their faces pale with what looked like grief and reverence. They kowtowed with deep, solemn thumps of their foreheads against the stone floor.
Thump.
Thump.
"Waaaah! Brother Lu! Our savior!" the first Brute wailed, his voice a wet rasp. "You sacrificed your noble life for trash like us! I haven't even named my firstborn after you yet!"
"He is a true saint," the dagger-wielder sniffled, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve. "We tried to harm him, but he repaid us with… with righteousness!"
Mo Tian, their de facto leader, placed another stick of incense with trembling hands. His voice was heavy with solemn authority. "Brothers. Let this tragedy purify our hearts. Let us swear an oath, here before our fallen brother's spirit. From this day forth, we renounce any petty malice! We walk the path of righteousness, in his holy and selfless name!"
"We swear!" the four chorused, kowtowing again.
A heavy, awkward silence followed which was broken only by the first Brute's ragged sniffling. He wiped his nose on his sleeve, then gazed with sudden, watery intensity at one of the other disciples present. It was a young man with delicate features named Chu Feng. "Boo-hoo," the Brute moaned, a different kind of grief in his voice. "I haven't been able to name my first child after him… because I haven't gotten a dao companion." His eyes, which were wide and strangely hopeful locked onto Chu Feng.
Chu Feng felt the intense stare. He slowly turned, meeting the Brute's tearful, longing gaze. A bolt of pure, unadulterated horror instantly shot down through Chu Feng's spine. His mind jumped to the worst conclusion. He… he swings that way! And with a face like a kicked-in crate! Feng's face paled with discomfort. He offered a weak, trembling smile and swiftly averted his eyes, staring at the portrait of Lu Chen as if seeking divine intervention on his tragic fate.
The second Brute, oblivious, snorted. "How would you get a dao companion anyway? You go around with a face that says 'if you mess with me, I'll dig up and murder your ancestor's ancestors.'"
"Pipe down," the first Brute retorted, momentarily distracted from his heartache. "Like your face is any better. Yours says 'I had a fight with a mortar and pestle but the mortar and pestle won.'"
"At least I don't make innocent disciples think I'm proposing in the middle of a funeral!"
"Who's proposing?! I was just thinking about his nice-looking sis. I mean, about the sanctity of brotherhood!"
Chu Feng, hearing this, trembled even harder, now utterly convinced of the Brute's unspeakable intentions. But after few seconds he calmed down better my sister than me look on his face.
The other two coerced disciples in the room, who had been strong-armed persuaded into attending this bizarre vigil, exchanged glances with similar thoughts in their minds.
'Weren't you guys just boasting about crippling someone last week?'
'Is this a new form of extortion? Guilt-tripping?'
'I just came here to borrow a shovel…'
One of them, a skinny youth, failed to mask his skeptical stare quickly enough.
Mo Tian's head snapped up, his grief morphing into fiery zeal. "You! What is that look? Do you disrespect the memory of our martyred Brother Lu?"
The skinny disciple paled. "N-no, Senior Brother Mo! Not at all! I was just… contemplating his great sacrifice! So profound! Waaah!" He quickly threw himself into an exaggerated kowtow.
"Good," Mo Tian said, his tone reverent once more. He shot a warning glare at his bickering Brutes, then turned back to the terrible portrait. "After this, we will spread the tale of Brother Lu's heroism. His name shall be a beacon in the outer court."
"But… what exactly did he do?" one of the brave, coerced disciples whispered.
The four "mourners" stiffened. They shared a look. The story they'd concocted was vague—a noble sacrifice against mysterious, shadowy foes in the grove. Details were… flexible.
"He fought against a terrible darkness!" the second Brute said, puffing out his chest. "With his very body, he shielded us!"
"Yes!"the dagger-wielder added. "A towering, um… yin-demon! With… many teeth!"
"And he told us to live on!"Mo Tian finished, a single tear tracing a path through the dirt on his cheek. "His final words were of forgiveness."
The coerced disciples nodded slowly, their expressions a mix of confusion and enforced solemnity. The incense smoke curled, making the portrait of Lu Chen's frowning face seem to waver in regret of saving them.
Unbeknownst to them, the subject of their worship was currently fighting for his life, covered in the very essence of the "terrible darkness" they imagined.
A prickling sense of danger over overcame Lu Chen a second before the attack came.
From the shadows a dark, wet streak lashed out. It was the same void-tendril that had snatched him from the air during his escape from those demons. Turns out it was a tongue.
It moved faster than thought, aiming to spear him where he knelt.
Lu Chen had no energy and no time to dodge.
He was naked, covered in feces, lying defenseless in a dung heap.
And he was about to be attacked.
"Are you kidding me?!"
"I can't avoid this"
Whoosh.
A brilliant, silver light erupted from the center of his chest—from the last fading warmth of Li Yun's cloud-silk talisman, now a blackened, brittle scrap stuck to his skin by filth. The light formed a shimmering, brief shield.
The tongue struck it with a sound like cracking ice and a psychic SHRIEK of pain. The force rebounded, snapping the massive appendage back into the darkness.
In that flash of silver light, Lu Chen saw it.
The beast was a Body Forging 9 Grave Gulper Toad. It was huge, about the size of a small cottage, with mottled grey and black skin that somewhat blended with the night. Overall it looked like an oversized toad, but its eyes showed flickers of wisdom and of course pain. It's tongue just explored a new zig-zag angle after all.
So that was the illusion's source, Lu Chen realized, the piece finally clicking. It first eats the soul through illusions and dreams then goes after the physical body. The talisman… it must have helped break the hold.
The Toad blinked its eyes with a mixture of fear, astonishment and pain. It had felt the rebounding force from the high-grade talisman.
"Three of my trump attacks have failed. It's a strong expert. Better Flee!!"
With a "GROAK!" sound, the Toad turned to it's heels or heels variant and it quickly began to hop away, a movement that shook the ground.
It was still experiencing the gastrointestinal consequences of trying to digest Lu Chen. With each hop, torrents of foul, semi-liquid waste erupted from its backend with a sploosh sound. Forming a weird rhythm of
SPLOOSH-GROAK-BANG!
SPLATTER-GROAK-BANG!
As it vanished into the deeper mist of the grove, leaving a trail of ecological devastation for nature to take care of and a deeply stunned Lu Chen in its wake.
It was a retreat that wasn't quite dignified. A greater humiliation would've washed over the toad if there were female toads watching the show. The toad would most likely cough out a mouth full of blood from both holes. Fortunately for the toad.
Silence returned, then broken by the drip of disgusting slime from the leaves.
Lu Chen looked down at his naked, filthy body. He looked at the blackened talisman fragment, which crumbled to ash and fell away. He owed Li Yun his life. Twice over.
Then, the reality of his situation crashed down, colder than the chill he felt when he realized he almost died if not for the talisman.
The first problem was that he was in the middle of an spirit beasts' territory, naked, unarmed, and smelling like a plague.
The second problem was that he had no idea where in the grove he was. The Toad's digestive "journey" had disoriented him completely but remembers jumping over a cliff before being pulled down.
And the third Problem was the duel with Zhang Long. It was days away. He was a bit stronger now. His skin is now thicker compared to before giving him a solid, powerful feeling. He had new, bizarre resistances. But he was also here, now, free.
A wild, treacherous thought popped up in his mind, as clear and shiny as the pebble that had shattered his illusion and previous life.
This is your chance.
He could turn away from the grove. Walk in the opposite direction of the Toad's SPLOOSH-GROAK-BANG flight. Leave the Sky-Reaching Sect, Zhang Long, the bullying, the politics, the memory of betrayal, all of it behind. He could vanish. Start all over. No one would find a disciple presumed dead. He could be free.
The vow he made echoed in his head: "I will never be powerless again."
But was running from the duel power? Or was it just admitting that the system, and the strength he gained was all for nothing if he fled
the first real mission?
He stood at a crossroads, naked and stinking, at the edge of the map.
[TO BE CONTINUED…]