Enduring Eternity (II)
We were finally leaving this damned place.
... but little changed, truth be told, as we still had to navigate the exact same situation, just without the threat of being attacked. We were down to the last few lanterns, and the corpses were still there--something we were reminded of when Xing Feng started screaming at the top of his lungs.
The boy passed out from the fear and shock and was now being lugged about by Wan Lan, who was occasionally sending bursts of Qi into him to keep him asleep.
The poor thing has had enough trauma.
Six-Flower Pill, according to Lao Shun, wasn't a secret, ancient alchemical recipe of any sort; rather, it was something that even common beggars could get their hands on.
The reason why it was so precious, however, was twofold: one, it was extremely difficult to concoct and required one to be at least a Soul-Grand alchemist, and two, two of the ingredients for it were tentatively considered extinct.
There were still instances of them being found, but the method to rear them was gone, and they could not be found anywhere in nature. One of those ingredients, Plume of the White Sparrow, was also used for concocting a World-Shedding Pill, one of the most sought-after pills, as it all but guarantees a breakthrough into the Shedding Mortality Realm.
And, from the implications, it sounded like the 'big' one, as it were, since those who break through into it can live upwards of 30,000 years, while the realm before it, the True God Realm, allows for 'only' around 9,000 years of life.
... yeah.
Only.
The bastard actually used the word only.
Thanks to him, though, I've gotten a clearer picture of realms beyond the Void Transformation. It went Inner World, then a Demigod, then a Sovereign, Immortal Foundations, True God Realm, and Shedding Mortality Realm.
Per Lao Shun, the Grandmaster of the Alchemy Tower actually went a step further and reached Nirvana Realm, the first prerequisite of the so-called Ascension, which is, well, ascending into the higher plane, likely the one where Long Tao was originally killed.
The expanded knowledge only made my head hurt that much, as it meant we needed to start speeding through these realms a bit quicker, truth be told.
... I mean, I am being greedy, considering that the old alchemist is over 500 years old yet is 'only' at the Inner World Realm, but, shit, I don't want to spend literal thousands of years in mediocrity!
Which brought me back to my system.
I needed to actually start creating some fundamental arts to serve not just me but all my future disciples. I just barely squeaked by with the kids here, namely because most of them already had their own methods, but Xing Feng... doesn't really have one. Neither do I.
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The system's upgraded to 400 points, and I'm just shy of 700, which means I'm due for creating a proper cultivation method to carry me at least to the Void Transformation Realm, if not further.
The question is... what kind? Do I just make something uber-generic?
... yeah, probably. Situations like Light or Wan Lan or even Dai Xiu shouldn't be the norm, I don't think, whereas they have very specific requirements due to their bloodline or physique.
There was also Long Tao; part of me was, selfishly, hoping he'd offer a method or two, since he likely had a library of them in his head, but he never did. Honestly, I don't think it's because he doesn't want to--I genuinely believe it's because he really doesn't know any. At least any that the kids could use right now.
So, that leaves me.
I hadn't touched the system since Rayce's little toy, and I noticed I'd been using it a lot less recently--though, in fairness, that's because getting points has been a literal nightmare.
Hmm?
Wait.
The quest!
Didn't I complete the quest?!
Let's see, let's see...
[... Creation Points: 3,699]
HOLY SHIT!
WHY DIDN'T YOU LET ME KNOW, YOU DAMN SYSTEM?!
There was something else... aah, here it is! The three 'Flawless Foundation Pills'.
[Flawless Foundation Pill: fixes major flaws of one's foundation, turning it perfect]
[--special quest generated]
Hmm? What's this now?
[Host may use the 3 pills as the currency to instead purchase 'Flawless Foundation Pill Recipe'. Note: despite miraculous effects, the pill is not impossible to concoct even within Host's current circumstances]
Hm.
Hmm.
Hmmmmmmm.
I looked over at Lao Shun, who must have felt my gaze, and tilted his head, as though asking, 'What?'. Should I sack three pills on the chance we might make an infinite number of them?
... honestly, yeah.
While three pills are great, I've got way more than three Disciples. And then there's me--though my body's purified, and I achieved a very special Core and whatnot, the truth is that the flaws obtained during the previous owner's life are still very much here.
So, I accepted the 'special quest'.
The three marble-sized and cream-colored pills disappeared from my spatial ring, and in their stead was now a string of words and letters in my head.
I whipped out a parchment and some ink, jotted them down, and turned toward Lao Shun again.
"Hey," I called out.
"What?"
"Umm, do you think you can concoct this?" I recognized precisely two ingredients off the list of seven, so I'm already quite doubtful about the system's claims, but hey... hope dies last.
"What is it?" The man took the parchment and looked over it with disinterest until a bit deeper, when his expression began to wildly distort. "T-t-this... this is... F-Flawless Foundation Pill Recipe?"
"Yes. I mean, without the stutters, but yes."
"Where did you get this?!!"
"Can you concoct it or not?" Please, please, please--nobody ask me where I get my things. That's a surefire way to have me lobotomized faster than I can say, 'We tried that back in my world; it doesn't work!'.
"C-can... I mean, yes, of course I can! A couple of these ingredients will be a bit tricky, but I actually have precisely two batches of all of them. I don't think I can succeed in two batches... but if we get lucky at the Moon Market and purchase a few extra, then yes, of course I can! Haah, seriously. My heart nearly stopped!"
"Mr. Alchemist, what is the Flawless Foundation Pill?" Rayce asked rather politely, as everyone else turned to listen in, too.
"It's precisely as its name suggests--a pill that fixes all flaws in one's Foundation. Unless you're born into a Divine Family or to an Emperor or an Empress who can ensure perfection every step of the way, all of us, naturally, form flaws as we cultivate, especially during breakthroughs. Ordinarily, if they're not too massive, it doesn't change much; but having a perfect Foundation also means that you can practice certain Arts or Methods that are otherwise impossible, or even more simply, your dantian becomes practically impossible to destroy externally."
"Oooh!"
"Forget it. I must succeed in making at least one batch!" he said. "Once we exit the forest, we'll find a nice quiet place, and I will concoct one batch even if I have to die!"
... oh.
I think I just awoke something in him that I should have probably let slumber...
Oh uh.
We continued navigating the dark scape of the forest without light, all while one of us always had to also navigate the damn alchemist because he would not lift his head off the recipe. He must have read the damned thing a billion times by now, but he just kept staring at it--no doubt running simulations in his head.
As such, the kids took turns guiding him--making sure he didn't ram into a tree or slip against the root.
I mean, they tried their best--but the man was on his seventh change of robes in the span of two days, so they weren't doing a particularly good job.
In the meantime, I've been busy trying to sew together a cultivation method that I won't replace quickly and that can be a founding block for if I ever want to start an actual sect.
I mean, even without it, I'm already at, like, what, six--no, seven disciples--now... well, no, six, 'cause I really shouldn't count Long Tao. Still, that's only really in the span of around nine months of living in this world.
Yes, I was a bit accelerated initially, but Rayce and Xing Feng were relatively recent additions to the roster.
All the same, I do want the created method to be fundamental, first and foremost, and I can then create more specialized ones based on individual disciples.
On the fourth day, I started doing some experiments with the system--namely, I wanted to know whether I can create 'linked' arts, in that one is a prerequisite to another.
My idea was to create a central, core art that other, more specialized arts can inherit the base logic from, sort of like how systems in the games are linked together.
And--to my shock and awe--it was actually possible. I sacked about 180 points by creating two absolutely lowest-tier methods to test it, and it actually worked.
The second art required the first and then built on top of it by specializing it further.
... wow.
Okay.
This actually kind of changes the nature of the 'game', as it were; the system never really gave me a rundown tutorial of its functions beyond just stating its general purpose. I've mostly been using it rather rigidly (because points weren't exactly falling from the sky, to be fair), but if something like this is possible... then just how many other possibilities are there?
Is it possible to create a long-chain method that slowly stacks benefits from the start and is completely 'broken' by the 'end game'? Or create something like a central movement art by investing a lot of points into it, ensuring that it's as perfect as possible, but then throw some less-than-perfect addendums on top of it whose flaws are hidden due to the original art?
Though I'm tempted to test, I don't go through it. Though I've gotten quite a lot of creation points, I'm fairly certain I'm going to run through them just as quickly--kids are growing up, approaching the next path of their journey, and will probably need more sophisticated arts and methods soon enough.
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Forget it.
For now, I just need to create one central method that will be the future foundational block for everything.
As such, I didn't spare any points wherever I could, but I also intentionally didn't really add anything special to it--so, it's rudimentary, shorn of any external concepts, but it's also extremely complex and, most importantly, stable. That's where I invested most of the points--adding the resistance to anything going wrong during a breakthrough, ensuring that it was extremely difficult to get a backlash while cultivating, and prioritizing stability over incessant speed.
Was it going to work? Honestly, I don't know. My understanding of cultivation in this world is still fundamentally rather flawed--perhaps, in some small capacity, that's a benefit, as I also don't have any inherent biases, but it's also a major shortcoming since I don't have literal millions of years of foundational knowledge that's been tried and tested throughout generations.
I'm sort of like a consultant brought in to evaluate a company--sure, I can more easily spot 'redundancies' and some flaws in operation, but I also don't have intimate knowledge of how the entire thing works, and by maybe twisting that one gear to fix something, I break sixteen other things in the process.
But... I have the system, at least. Whatever it created--or, well, whatever I created through it--thus far has all been rather phenomenal and useful.
Hopefully, this will be, too.
Click create.
Nah! Stop! Phew, just in time.
I almost forgot to name the fundamental cultivation method of my future sect. I would have literally redone the entire thing one-for-one and spent an extra 400 points just so I can name it, no joke.
Create, now.
[Congratulations, Host, on creating the 'Enduring Eternity' cultivation method]
[...]
[Enduring Eternity]
[Type: Cultivation Method]
[Rank: low-Myth]
[Host Comprehension: Minor]
[...]
[A principal method meant as the starting point of all those who struggle against the decrees of fate; though simple on the surface, its enduring nature ensures that it can be molded into practically anything else. Its steadiness ensures that the most turbulent parts of one's journey towards immortality, the very beginnings, aren't as rife with flaws and shortcomings as they tend to be; it naturally prevents those who use it from making critical errors and causing irreparable damage to their foundations in the process. It is neither particularly fast nor slow; due to its nature and its innate stabilization, it doubles the lifespan gains on each breakthrough, up to the Void Transformation Realm. Though there exist many methods that are vastly better on the whole, only a few can match it in its particulars and versatility. Its lack of restrictions ensures that practically everyone can cultivate with it. It also allows for natural extensions once its natural well has been exhausted, building on top of extremely solid foundations and forging ahead toward excessive perfection. Due to its inherent nature, its comprehension difficulty is rather high, though even those with no comprehension can still learn it--it will only take a bit longer than the rest. Despite only being categorized as low-Myth tier, it would comfortably sit at the very top of the Myth-tier cultivation methods, heavens crossed, too]
[...]
[Creation Points Value: 400/400]
[Comprehension Difficulty: ???]
[...]
[Creation Bonus: a special effect has been triggered, and the cultivation method has been further refined]
[New Effect: for each person practicing Enduring Eternity, gain 20% to your cultivation speed and 20% to your Qi Recovery. This effect ends once your Disciples graduate to extension methods. It stacks infinitely, but Disciples must cultivate on a daily basis with it; otherwise, the bonus from them is temporarily paused]
[New Effect: when first learning it, all your Disciples will gain initial comprehension with relative ease, though mastering the rest of the method will be up to their capabilities]
[New Effect: achieving Perfect Comprehension will immediately raise one's cultivation by a minor realm; this includes breaking through if they are at the Peak. The outcome of their breakthrough will be as if they themselves had undergone it under optimal conditions, but no better than they themselves could have naturally achieved]
[...]
[Creation Bonus: Reanimating Talisman (Unique)]
[Reanimating Talisman (Unique): temporarily breathe sentience into a mindless spirit. Lasts for 3 hours. Can only be used on spirits that yet retain a semblance of their soul, at the very least]
Enduring Eternity (IV)
... so, how do I bring it up?
I mean, I've already kind of ousted myself--I'm fairly certain that at least Long Tao, Wan Lan, and even Lao Shun now know that I'm not exactly just some random guy with very deep parental heritage.
But I've kind of been burning through things these past few days--first with Xing Feng and then with Lao Shun and the recipe--if I whip out yet another thing, won't even the thinnest of veils I've got now just be completely pulled back?
Eh.
We came to a rest after finally coming out of the worst parts of the forest--the corpses littering every inch of the place were gone, now only buried in the patches of moss, and Xing Feng finally woke up.
It was a bit of a scene, with the girls gaslighting him (for his own good... yikes, I don't like the sound of that) that he'd all just dreamed it up and that he was actually quite tired and slept for a whole day straight!
... whether the kid bought it or pretended to buy it, I don't know, but he calmed down as Long Tao started cooking yet another meal. There wasn't much he could do, though, with our dwindling supplies; I'd have planned on getting a few extra things in the city, but being unceremoniously dragged out so quickly kind of got in the way of that.
And, at least according to the one map of this place in my head, I don't think there are any major settlements nearby. Perhaps some villages and such, but I'm really not in the mood to just stumble and meander about blindly on the off chance we'll come upon a random, hidden village.
"I have something for you." My announcement was met with a rather comedic response; everyone scurried over from their corners as though chased by demons, looking up at me while sitting on their knees, eyes expectant.
Even Long Tao arose from his comatose, meditative state and joined us.
I started slowly taking out one tome after another and handing them over while offering an 'explanation.'
"I have been perusing my, uh, my aunt's heritage," I said. "Looking for something that I can make to be a central method of cultivation. My hope is to use it at the very beginning, until everyone establishes their own path, which is when I can look for something else more specific to the individual's circumstances. Most of you, I imagine, won't get any benefit out of it, as you'd have developed so wonderfully, but I'd still like you to learn it--should our little group ever become even bigger, I'd like to have at least one unifying factor between all of us."
"..."
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"Hm? What do you want?" I caught Lao Shun sitting next to me, hand stretched out.
"Where is my copy?"
"... what?"
"This unifying method. I want to learn it, too."
"Why?"
"I'm curious."
"Don't you have a recipe to study?"
"That's that, and this is this."
"... whatever." I shrugged and gave him my copy, and he took it with a faint grin, scurrying back into the shadows immediately after.
Everyone fell silent while I dug into the stew Long Tao made.
Watching them flip pages as their expressions kept shifting was rather sweet, I have to admit. I've come to cherish these less and less frequent moments of quiet and serenity.
There's just something about the deep dark of the forest and its quiet juxtaposed with their energized expressions that feels oddly... nostalgic. It makes no sense, as I've never spent a night in the forest, let alone several, but it's sort of like watching TV shows set in a coastal town and getting all nostalgic about it without ever even living in a coastal town.
... brains are weird, what can I say?
**
What was its purpose?
It swayed to the side as an array of light pierced downward, its intangible body beginning to contort and shift, blending into the pebbles and sand. It began to wiggle away invisibly, leaving the space between two tall boulders just in time to avoid being buried under the weight of the two of them collapsing.
At the same time, it kicked up against the floor, its shape once again twisting in an odd way, as the loose figure began to fan out six fins to the side of a flat and tall bodice, with the tail fin coming in last--it was flamboyant, almost feathery in its make, colored from red to golden across its glistening surface.
It flapped them and began to sway through the still waters, curving left just in time to avoid a chomp from a hidden stonefish. The cute, barnacled little thing appeared confused for a moment before it sank down into the sand, disappearing once more.
Meanwhile, it swam slightly upward, avoiding a stray current from forcing it to expend more energy than necessary, all while asking the exact same question for who-knows-which-time:
What was its purpose?
The flat body began to balloon rapidly as the fins collapsed unto themselves, and the oily, shiny texture of skin turned to the rough one of the stone; it sank back down into a pile of similar rocks, a mere moment before a young woman appeared from above, her hair splayed wildly in the water.
The woman didn't linger, swimming away immediately, whereupon the inconspicuous boulder rattled against the other stones and began to float, slowly turning into a transparent, elongated eel.
What was its purpose?
A school of blackhead fish parted as they saw it, as though peasants opening a way for their king, and it swam onward, slowly sinking toward the floor yet again and avoiding another stray array of light.
Every year they come, they arouse the waters with their heinous magic, and they kill thousands of the innocent within the waters, seeking... something.
It wanted to stop them, but it was not to be.
It could become anything, but the Laws bound it.
The eel dug into the sand headfirst, its translucent body turning algae-green, the smooth surface becoming rough as it joined the slow-dancing choir of other lake grass around it.
Several humans swam above it, none the wiser, as it untethered itself once again, becoming an ordinary salmon fish, its scales just faintly glistening.
What was its purpose?
It swam against the tide, as it were, as most other fish seemed to be swimming in the opposite direction, likely running from yet another battle that humans had engaged in.
They loved it, it noted--the fighting. They loved it almost as much as it loved the idea of the unexpected.
The difference was that they could fight any day, but it had never experienced the unexpected.
It stopped, unnaturally so, just in time to avoid a plunge of a steel sword that dug into the sand below, kicking up a small storm of dust that consumed it.
When the dust vanished, it was not there--gone as it always did, eternally unseen, always aware.
Eternity (V)
It happened yet again, Long Tao mused.
He'd found himself stunned into silence reading his Master's 'aunt's supposed inheritance--Enduring Eternity, the method was called, and, by some miracle, it actually somewhat lived up to that audacious name.
As with most other things that his Master seemed to pull out of thin air, it was not conventionally astounding. Rather, on its own, it was a rather simple, if quite stable, cultivation method that practically anyone could use. While that made it universal, it also limited its functionality, as most legendary cultivation methods were geared for specific physiques or bloodlines or even people.
Sort of like how he already made one for Dai Xiu and her Vast-Body Dantian physique, but even more so toward the extreme ends of that spectrum.
For the majority of his past life, one cultivation method was considered to be the 'most powerful'--Immortal Buddhist Sutra. However, its outcome was entirely theoretical, as there had never been anyone born with the ability to cultivate it.
Not only did it require a pure soul--which already eliminated the vast majority of the living--but it also required a sinless existence, self-sacrifice to the point of absurdity, and a litany of other things that not even saints from the myths could live up to.
If, somehow, some way, someone did actually manage to fulfill those requirements, they'd be able to become crowned within a literal month, burning through every single cultivation realm as though they were nothing.
And, even among the Emperors and Empresses, they would have been unrivaled.
Nobody ever learned when it was created, or even by whom, and though it was considered the property of the Monastery, practically anyone could have walked in at any time and tried to cultivate it.
Long Tao himself did it, just about a year or so after he ascended, and, just like everyone before and after him, he failed... rather spectacularly.
That was the context of all 'powerful' cultivation methods--the more restrictions there were, the more powerful they'd become.
But his Master, once again, did something... unorthodox, to say the least. While true that this particular method wasn't in and of itself particularly heaven-defying, that was only so after being viewed outside the context.
Long Tao had tried creating something similar in his past life--the idea of 'stacking' was far from new and had been attempted thousands of times to varying degrees of 'success', but nobody had truly managed to create something like it, as the requirements were absurd.
One would have to be intimately familiar with dozens of Laws and Paths from the very beginning and would have to have the capacity to reshape that knowledge into digestible bits and pieces for those who did not have an iota of knowledge about them.
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... but with this method, that was irrelevant.
His Master, clearly, did not possess intimate knowledge of dozens of Paths and Laws. He probably didn't even possess any kind of knowledge of any kind of them. But that was also perhaps the reason why he managed to 'solve' the conundrum--Enduring Eternity's baseline stability and utter inoffensiveness meant that Laws and Paths could be layered on top of it, sort of like adding another floor to a building with an extremely stable foundation.
Even Long Tao, who in his head already possessed perhaps the best cultivation method for himself, could and should learn this one, as there would be no interference.
He couldn't use the Horizon of Infinity until the Nirvana Realm, and with a bit of pestering of his Master to 'procure' a slightly more specialized version, he could even see the two of them eventually merging into one.
Glancing over at the man happily nibbling away at some badly cooked piece of rabbit meat, he felt a surge of emotions burst through him. All his life, this and previous, he felt himself the chosen--but, perhaps, he never truly was.
He was felled, after all, and the chosen do not get felled. They rise against all odds and overcome them. This was, perhaps, that final divide--he who could glide against the heavens and occasionally succeed versus somebody who didn't even seem to see the heavens and all their laws.
He sighed and rolled back to the first page.
Though he got the gist of the first portion of the tome, the latter... eluded him, something he hadn't experienced in a long while.
**
Lao Shun was a bit flabbergasted.
But then he became very flabbergasted.
This tome that the increasingly odd man had seemingly pulled out of nowhere... was far better than his current method.
Now, that wasn't necessarily impossible--he was an Alchemist first and a Cultivator second, so cultivators around him studying better methods wasn't anything unusual, but it was so much better that it put to shame even some of the best methods he was ever allowed to briefly study, those used by men and women with aspirations of becoming Emperors and Empresses.
Though he'd recognized by now that the man next to him was certainly lying about being some mumbling elder of a few 'slightly talented' kids, with each new piece of the puzzle, it felt more that the man was simply appearing things that... shouldn't be.
Glancing over, he was currently nibbling away at some questionably prepared lettuce; was it the spin of fate that they happened to meet in that city? It was Lao Shun's first time ever coming this far out west, and it just so happened to be at the exact same time he was there.
No...
It was a coincidence, as were many million other things occurring all the time.
Regardless of how it came to be, it was an opportunity he could not miss. Perhaps attaching himself to this unassuming child was the smartest thing he would ever do in his life--or perhaps it was the stupidest one, as there was no doubt, should the Holy Lands get so much as a whiff of his capabilities, they'd all bond to hunt him down and execute him on the spot.
It was just the nature of existence--he, a sole person, had the capacity to threaten their hegemony, and none would stand for it. They'd sooner burn this realm than let some ordinary man overtake them.
Lao Shun suspected if Lu Qi was left alone, that was exactly what was to happen--these kids, though extremely weak by the standards of the Holy Lands right now, in perhaps five or ten years' time might legitimately overtake all the Holy Sons and Daughters.
If they are not... stopped in the meantime.
The recipe, the method... either one would have netted literal millions and millions of high-grade spirit stones should they ever be put on the market, but very few would have the ability to survive and enjoy the spoils of that sale. And yet, they were both in his hands... the peerless treasures that all his Seniors would kill to get...
And he couldn't even brag about them.
This was perhaps the most annoyed he had felt about something in centuries.
... he really was rather petty still, after all.
Moon Lake (I)
These were days of silence and solace, I must say.
Ever since handing over the cultivation method, we barely spoke--only doing so perhaps once a day during the communal meals. For the remainder of the day, however, we either walked (during which they still seemed to be studying it, regardless), or they meditated in silence, in their own little corners.
Even as we ate, they'd have their heads caved into the tomes, and it was kind of funny since it reminded me of going out with a bunch of friends only for all of us to whip out our phones halfway through the meal and barely speak to each other.
... Okay, that was a bit of a line. I mean, I remember it being somewhat of a joke, but even if we did pull out our phones, we'd usually still chat, just doing so in smaller clusters.
Regardless, there were a few moments here and there when all of us would be looking something up, and I imagine this is sort of what we looked like from the outside looking in.
A whole lotta people, a whole lotta nothing between them.
In their defense, it was a difficult thing to comprehend--though I was just 'given' the immediate understanding by the system, I did try advancing it a bit, and doing so quite literally gave me a headache.
I'm not kidding.
It gave me that topside-pressure headache, the one that's not so much painful as it's just outright annoying.
As such, I just sort of gave up; my hope was that by the kids making their advancements, the system would give me rewards, and at least one of those rewards would be advancing my understanding of the method.
Wow.
I might just be the most incompetent Master ever, huh?
Ah, whatever.
According to Lao Shun, we had about a month-long journey ahead of us to the Moon Lake, and that was supposing no interruptions and very minimal rest. We were still deep in the forest, beholden to darkness practically, as we've run out of the lanterns, which meant that, no, we were not likely to make it in a month.
But, strangely, it wasn't... that bad. I mean, it was scary, especially when all of them went so quiet you couldn't even hear them breathe, but there was something eerily liberating about only having my own thoughts to accompany me.
... did I say liberating? I meant terrifying.
Though I've had moments like this before, they were fleeting--and for a good reason. I haven't really processed much of my life on Earth and its rather ugly end just yet.
I left behind a lot of people who genuinely loved me--how will they react when they get a phone call? Or, what if my body was so mangled in the crash that they can't even identify me?
... or what if there's no body at all? What if I was yanked wholly, and they'll forever think I'd gone missing, never to learn the truth?
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Yeah.
It's really not liberating.
The more I think about it, the more I realize I'll never really have closure. My life over there, miserable as it was, will forever be severed, its finality uncertain. Would I have gotten better? Would I have found someone else? Or would I be one of those unfortunate stories in the newspapers with a title, 'Neighbor smells something strange; severely decomposed body found next door'?
I'll never know.
It might even be that this planet and Earth exist within the same universe, but what of it? Even if, by some miracle, I do eventually become so strong that I can travel like a spaceship and become a bit of an interstellar explorer, and in the even less likely scenario that I do find Earth, just how many thousands, if not millions, of years will have passed?
Will there even be anything there? Perhaps a few derelict traces of a once middling civilization that tried its best but could never truly get out of its own way for long enough to make anything worthwhile of itself.
A plastic bag there, a steel beam here, and little else in between.
Wow.
I really do have the magical power to make myself feel depressed even an entire world over. That's kind of impressive.
... but it also brings up another question: just how old is this world? Or, well, the many worlds surrounding it?
Millions, at the very least. Is there somebody still alive from all that time ago? I don't know; Lao Shun said he was feeling bored, and he'd 'only' been alive five centuries. What about those who've lived for tens of thousands of years?
I'd always thought that immortality--or, at least, a very long life--is as much a blessing as it's a curse. We'd all adapt, one way or another, if we couldn't die; it's simply ingrained in our DNA. But here, though, most of the drawbacks don't really work the same way--the biggest hurdle, that of your loved ones not living as long, can be remedied.
What if you could spend millions of years with your soulmate? Well, I wouldn't. I loved Yas with every bone in my body, and I wish we could have had ten lifetimes together, but at some point... we would have experienced everything.
Ugh.
This is why I don't like being left alone with my thoughts; one way or another, my deep, philosophical teenage self always seems to crawl from the bottom of some hole I tried to bury him in decades ago.
"Master," Rayce! Oh, thank God, somebody spoke to me! You're my favorite now!
"Hm? What is it?" I asked.
"What path do you think I should pursue?"
"Hm?"
"When I was growing up, I was being groomed to become the so-called Enchanter. That's why most of the Words that I know are about aiding others in one way or another. I've dabbled a bit, on my own, in some other paths, but each time I did, it felt like I was just reinforcing that the village Elders were right and that my current path is most suited for me."
"... but you have doubts?"
"Not... doubts. Just questions."
"Hm." Aren't those the exact same thing? "I can't tell you what path you should follow, Rayce. And, even if I could, truth be told, I wouldn't."
"W-why?"
"Because it's your path," I said. "I will always do my best to guide you and aid you, but nobody in the world knows better than you what you want. Forget being useful, forget being perfect, forget utilizing your talents to the utmost--we don't live in a prison or a workshop. Pursue whatever it is that you want to pursue. Even if you keep failing, and you keep changing paths, that's fine. Even if you never stumble upon your path, that's fine."
"You won't... abandon me?" he asked; it was an odd question for a teenager to ask, but I've sort of noticed a pattern in that they aren't really teenagers. I mean, their biggest concern doesn't seem to be how to get laid, or how to get drunk, or how to get one of those K-Pop idols to fall in love with you, so, right off the bat, they're unlike any other teen I've ever known.
There was a bit of a stunted growth to all of them; it feels like they'd become so central in their pursuit of this one thing that they'd forgotten to do a bit of growing up.
"No," I said rather simply. "You're my precious Disciple. The only way I'd ever abandon you is if I die--but even then, I'd claw through the cycle itself to find my way back to you kids, just to make sure you were doing okay."
"Hm."
He nodded, I think--I could only make out his movements based on the gusts of wind. What was his expression?
I don't know.
Perhaps, in times like these, it helps that we are enshrouded in darkness.
Our most vulnerable parts remain shaded, and we feel ever so slightly safer giving voice to our deepest doubts.
Hm.
Though, it might just be that... they trust me that much.
I'd like it if it were that.
Grudges (III)
Elder Qin opened his eyes slowly as he stood up, feeling that it was time.
He'd been meditating for almost four days now, waiting in the darkness, but he felt it at last--the twine was broken, the one he set up at the very edge of this place.
For a while now, he'd been tracking the movements of the so-called 'Ghostblade', an Elder of the Immortal Sword Haven Sect.
The man largely locked himself up within the Sect's confines, and as the Sect had entirely closed itself off from the world, he could seldom catch a glimpse of him. The rumors were that they were preparing for the opening of a Secret Realm, but he couldn't care less.
Nonetheless, with a bit of patience and a bit of wit, he finally had the chance.
About a month ago, he'd spread the rumor of a sentient trace of Sword Qi some four hundred miles south of the sect, not to the disciples directly, of course, but by being slightly 'loose-lipped' with some chatty mercenaries.
He already knew that the man called Ghostblade had been stuck at the peak of the Inner World Realm for a long while and had probably given up even attempting to break through any further. But the tantalizing invitation of the sentient trace of Sword Qi...
Precisely because that was, in effect, its sole purpose; it was entirely useless to those still progressing in the path of Sword, as they hadn't yet reached the 'Wall'. For those that have, though, and have no hope of climbing or tearing through it on their own, the sentient trace of Sword Qi was their only chance.
Yes, they'd get to see what is on the other side, but that would be as far as they'd ever go.
Staring through the shadows, he finally caught a glimpse of the figure--he'd pulled a hood over his face and had concealed his Qi the best he could, making it seem as though he was 'only' at the Revolving Core Realm, but it was child's play to see through.
No, that was a bit of an exaggeration; before his 'death', he would never have seen through the wool of Qi, even if he had a hundred lifetimes to investigate.
Something had... changed, deeply, inside of him, in far more ways than just one.
The man kept looking around, though there was nothing there.
Feeling that he had reached his peak state and activating the concealment array, Elder Qin stepped out, immediately alerting the man, who tried to dart out and away, only to realize there was nowhere to go.
Though the array itself wasn't of particularly high quality, it did the one thing it was supposed to do--prevent the man from escaping immediately.
"Who are you!?" the man asked, using Qi to distort his voice.
Unlike him, Elder Qin didn't bother hiding his appearance--not that the man would recognize him. Even if he was at the Sect's attack and just one of those who stayed outside, who he was today and who he was on the day he died... those two men were different, vastly.
"Ghostblade," Elder Qin said. "Before I sever your head, I wish to confirm it's the right head I'm severing."
"Huh? This... was a trap? Ha ha ha," the man suddenly laughed and removed the hood over his head.
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The sharp, azure eyes stood out even more when framed by a face rather than a piece of cloth. A handsome man, all things considered, though the touch of ineffable arrogance dulled it ever so slightly.
"Clever. I hadn't been trapped like this in a long time. Congratulations on that, at least. But what? Do you think you can—what was it? Sever my head? Oh, you naive little fool."
"So, it is you."
"Ha ha, it indeed is. Why would I hide it from a little pup like you? Though I am mighty curious, just what hole did you crawl out from? I make it a point to never leave behind a root that can sprout even into useless weed. I don't recall ever missing one, either."
"A man of your stature probably doesn't remember it, but you had a role to play in the destruction of my sect. While inconsequential for you, it was monumental for me."
"Oh? A surviving pup of some sect? Interesting," he grinned rather strangely as he pulled out a sword. "As you've amused me, I will give you the first strike. Consider it an Elder's gift."
Elder Qin himself nearly rolled his eyes, as that man could lie with the best of them; he recalled the other pup that would lie frequently enough, too, but it was never quite this annoying.
Why?
He couldn't quite say.
Regardless, he pulled out a sword, but rather than attacking forward, he stabbed back. A metallic clang echoed out as the man who had just been standing in front of him disappeared, his figure manifesting behind Elder Qin, crouching and pulling back.
Without exchanging another word, Elder Qin pressed forward; he wanted to know his exact strength. He'd figured that his own cultivation was most likely somewhere in the Demigod Realm but wasn't quite certain. He was using the skin-wearer in front of him to confirm it.
It was a flurry of lights and sounds that quickly consumed the entire forest; the trees became chopped debris flying everywhere, with dozens of craters quickly forming.
Each strike of the sword caused the entire world to seemingly shake, and the two men had exchanged hundreds in the span of just a couple of minutes.
Within the first twenty exchanges, Elder Qin realized that the man was looking to escape. He must have realized that a 'swift kill' was unlikely and wasn't willing to risk his life any more than this.
But now that he had him, how would he ever let him go? He'd just hole himself up in that sect of his and never leave, also informing his seniors that there was somebody hunting him.
Each time the man attempted to flee, Elder Qin would manifest in the path of retreat and pull him back into the flat that had been a forest not five minutes ago.
Bit by bit, despair crawled onto the man's face, all haughtiness and arrogance swallowed up by fear.
Another clash yielded a slightly different result--Elder Qin put in as much effort as he saw fit to test the limits of his martial arts, but what usually resulted in a relatively even clash had now sent the man back a full forty feet as he stumbled to regain his footing.
There were dozens of gashes decorating his robes, though the blood itself was difficult to see as they were black.
He was panting, holding onto the sword as though it were a cane, helping him stand up.
"Just who the hell are you?! You can't be just some random nobody!"
"It always begins with arrogance," Elder Qin said, walking up slowly. "And it ends with the same questions. That vermin that once called himself master of the Fire Sun Sect said that you goaded him into attacking my home and that he didn't even know your forces would even participate in it until the day of."
"Fire Sun Sect...? What the hell is that?! I don't remember such a place!"
"Of course you don't," Elder Qin shrugged. The man was clearly trying to buy some time to recover a bit of Qi, but it was irrelevant. His fate was already sealed. "Why would you? We were inconsequential ants to your heavenly greatness. Just like you are a nobody to me right now."
"If you kill me, the wrath of all Holy Lands will swarm upon you!! There will be no corner of the world to hide in! Everyone you've ever cared for will be hunted down and made an example of! Think carefully about it!"
"Hah!" he scoffed. "Mighty words from a man cowering like a child from an angry parent. There would have been a time when a notion of the Holy Lands hunting me would have been... fearful. But, alas. One day, I will destroy them all. One by one. Their greed, their unabashed arrogance, their unrivaled apathy to anything they deem unworthy... I will wash this world with their blood and hold the rites of all those they've unjustly condemned."
"H-ha ha ha! You're mad! Ha ha ha! You are absolutely insane! Destroy the Holy Lands?! Who do you think you are?! An Emperor?!"
"No," Elder Qin said as he stealthily pressed the blade against the man's neck and pulled it forward. "Just an old man with a broken heart, on a path of vengeance."
A head flew up, and silence followed.
By the time it landed, Elder Qin was gone--as though never there.
A soft wind blew, and the body toppled to the side, falling right by the head, where a maniacal smile remained etched as the expression of life's finality, for now and for forever.
Moon Lake (II)
Notifications broke out rather frequently in the past few days.
It all started with Long Tao and now ended with Xing Feng--all the kids (including Lao Shun? Hello? Why are you learning an art like you're a disciple of mine?! And, far more importantly, system, why did you give me a reward for it?!) had gained the initial mastery of Enduring Eternity.
Not all of them would practice it, at least not daily, so my 20% stacking bonus wouldn't be min-maxed, as it were, but any bonus was a welcome one in my book.
But, to be honest, I've been kind of underestimating what 20% extra speed would mean. And even further, what a few stacks of it would do.
For instance, on the first day, everyone save for Rayce and Light cultivated using Enduring Eternity--excluding Lao Shun, which entailed me to an extra 100% bonus cultivation speed. While, yes, it only lasted a day, it was closer to what I'd actually get by cultivating for a week.
The rewards from them gaining the initial understanding of the method, though, weren't particularly tantalizing: an extra 450 Creation Points, essentially salvaging the cost of what I used to make it, and 1 extra use of Demonic Crystal of all things.
That wasn't even the best news, as far as I was concerned--it was that we finally left the damned forest!
The sunlight!
The colors!
Oh my God, it's all so beautiful I could weep! I mean, I'm not gonna... but I sure as hell could. Going from effectively complete darkness, where we struggled to see more than a foot ahead of us, to just a normal world... I don't want to be insensitive, but hey, so long as I keep it in my head, it's like going from being blind to finally being able to see!
We emerged onto a slightly hilly plain, with some scatterings of the trees and knee-high grass, and quite a few critters running amok. There were no human settlements as far as I could see, though we did run across a river relatively quickly. Eternal River, Lao Shun said it was called.
Seeing as it sourced somewhere in the massive Eternal Range, it seemed appropriate. The water was quite cool, and we could finally replenish our dwindling supplies, deciding to even camp for a few days at the riverbank since we could all use a wash and a brief respite.
We wouldn't actually travel along its side any further than this, as the river itself stretched north while we needed to head straight east. According to Lao Shun, the gathering was happening on the southeastern shoreline of the lake, so we'd first have to reach the eastern bit before just traveling down south along the side of the lake.
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The lake itself was quite massive--honestly, even when I read about it in the books, it sounded more like a sea rather than a lake. There were like nine port towns and cities on its shores; it had its own mini ecosystem and shipping lanes and had buried so many people in its span that the floor was likely decorated with decomposed bodies.
On top of that, it had regular storms and even waves (huh?), and the rough estimates set it to be the size of a 'small empire'.
Huh.
Though I've always been bad with measurements (more so in this world that uses slightly altered numbers), from what I could gather, it sounded like it was about half a million square miles.
Yeah.
No.
I refuse to believe it.
I mean, I don't know what the biggest lake back on Earth was--no, wait. I don't know what the biggest lake back on Earth was. I was stumped with Eternal Range, too, and its size, but that's really only because the 'number sounded big', and not because I had some factual knowledge to act as a frame of reference.
Why can't a lake be half a million square miles? Just because my apartment was about half a thousand... square feet... doesn't mean that a lake can't be visible from space. We had a wall that was visible from space! Oh, how I miss the days when I really thought that.
I noticed that the kids picked up some sparring once again--this time including Rayce.
He said he wanted to test how self-sufficient he was, so he decided to throw himself in there. The only one not participating was Xing Feng, who was silently sitting by my side, nibbling away at some dry beef jerky.
For the first time, perhaps, the system's description of one's personality trait was dead on. This kid... barely spoke. Honestly, if we hadn't chatted that first day, I'd have totally thought the kid couldn't speak.
"How are you finding it with us so far, Xing'er?" I asked, seeming to startle him for a moment.
"A-ah! It's, it's amazing, Master," he said. "I haven't seen the sun in so long, I'd forgotten just how yellow it is."
"Yellow? Xing'er... the sun is actually green."
"...!"
"Ha ha, I'm just joking. I'm sorry," the look of horror broke me, as I'd intended to tease him a bit more, but... I just broke, honestly.
"M-Master..." His eyes turned watery rather quickly, and my joy became guilt just as fast.
"I'm sorry!" I quickly apologized as he just outright started to cry.
It alerted others who shoveled over relatively quickly and, upon learning that I've been a 'mean Master', gave me... strange looks.
Though, that all changed when Xing Feng regaled my 'mean joke', and I could just see their shoulders suddenly dance as they all looked away and just so happened to cough all at the same time.
... bastards!
You think it's funny, too!
"He he, Master is so funny!"
I spun and saw Light smiling faintly. Light, giving light to my life... it finally all makes sense.
Seeing that Light thought it was funny, Xing Feng stopped crying rather abruptly and started laughing.
"He he, Master is funny!"
"... pfft."
"Ha ha ha."
Aaaaaand, now they're laughing.
Screw you guys.
Though, to be fair, there's nothing quite like the resonant laughter of so many kids (& two old gremlins); if this can somehow become an average day in my life? Heh. I wouldn't mind living for a few million years.
Just as I thought it, I also regretted it. I want to state--I do not believe in jinxes. I think it's a funny little thing where we ascribe coincidences and draw parallels because, well, that's what we do. We seek patterns even when they are not there.
That being said...
I also don't believe in tempting those coincidences. And, call me paranoid, but I feel at least twice or thrice now in this world, my thoughts seemed to have summoned something from thin air as soon as I thought the opposite of it.
... like those three people flying atop the swords, changing their course abruptly when they spotted us and descending.
Maybe I do believe in jinxes, after all...
All three were men, and quite young at that, with the system revealing them to be in their late twenties. Surprisingly, two were at the peak of the Spirit Manifestation Realm, while one was actually in the early stages of the Revolving Core Realm, like me.
They donned identical robes, clean silver with etchings of dark gold and red along the edges, and had even styled their hair in the same way; two had brown and one had black, though all wore them in a loose ponytail.
Shockingly, it wasn't the strongest one to speak up, but one of the weaker ones, putting on an honorable attempt for a fake smile.
"Greetings, fellow Daoists," he said. "I hope we haven't offended you." There was a certain level of derision in both their looks as well as his tone, though considering how we looked on the surface, that was kind of expected.
We've gone through a lot of changes of clothes, and we were literally out of fresh ones. Even Lao Shun was wearing gashed and dirtied ones, let alone me and the rest of the kids. On the surface, we did look like an assembly of beggars living off the land, and they at least bothered to mask their, uh, opinions, something that can't be said for everyone we've met.
"Not at all," I said as I stood up and smiled, offering a faint bow. "Do fellow Daoists require any manner of assistance?"
"No, no," he shook his head. "We were just wondering whether the fellow Daoists were headed to the Moon Lake, too."
"Oh? Indeed we are." I nodded. "For the festival?"
"Ha ha, as I thought," the system didn't really reveal anything inherently sinister or off-putting about any of them. The worst trait they had among the three of them was 'Gynophobia', which is, now that I think of it, probably the reason why the strongest one didn't speak.
... but we didn't really have women in our cohort. Was he also afraid of the little girls? Or maybe just Wan Lan?
"Many Daoists converge upon the lake every year, and we've long since heard rumors from our Seniors of the lake's immense worth. Ah, forgive me for the tangent--the reason we have so rudely interrupted your rest is that we have been travelling afoot our swords for almost a week now and have been running low on Qi reserves. I was merely wondering if we could travel with you for at most a day to replenish a bit? Of course, not for free--we shall offer an appropriate payment."
... huh. Not really the reason I thought they'd come down.
I stealthily glanced over at Long Tao and saw basically no reaction (I don't think he even opened his eyes?), which meant that, even if they did have untoward intentions, it wasn't life-threatening.
"Of course," I said. Besides, I kind of yearn to do a good deed, to be honest. I've felt that I'd gotten embroiled in death and such a bit too much recently. "We would be happy to help. My name is Lu; this is my older brother Lao." We already had a cover story in place for precisely something like this, and it was the one I insisted on even if it wasn't entirely necessary. "And these are our kids. We set off from our little remote village almost a year ago, now, and headed toward the Lake."
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"It's a pleasure," the man bowed ever so slightly, still smiling. "Thank you very much."
"Are you hungry? We were about to eat."
"Ah, no, thanks," he said. "We abide by a strict diet of our Sect and cannot eat any food not prepared within it. I hope you understand."
"Of course. Kids, don't bother them, and keep to yourselves."
It was kind of out of nowhere, and for a purpose I'm not entirely buying, but I always kind of have to teeter on the edge of 'Hey, it's your paranoia seeping out because of your experiences in this world' versus 'It really is as it appears to be'.
I wasn't gonna lower my guard, of course, but even if I did, I don't think it would matter; Long Tao and Lao Shun would have pounced on anything before I could even blink, so I instead focused on something I haven't in a while: compartmentalizing... my rewards.
Though I'd love to compartmentalize certain other things, now wasn't the time. And as far as rewards go, I've been sitting on a pretty few of them and should probably take stock of it all before I forget.
I'd nearly forgotten, actually, the physique and root I bestowed upon Xing Feng, as I got them (or at least one of them) eons ago.
Besides the hefty, nigh four thousand sum of Creation Points (which filled me with more joy than I'd care to admit), there was the stock of my most treasured possession: Tortoise Mirror.
I still had two of its uses left, and the level of attack it could block and reflect... was still listed as '???'. Does that mean that it can actually endure up to the Nirvana Realm?!! No freakin' way! Using it on that moron back in the city would have been such a waste, if that were the case!
No, no, no. It might be a glitch or something.
Whatever.
I'm not severely depressed.
Then there was the Demonic Crystal--or, well, two of them, now--the Severing Slash Talisman, and the de-cursing needle that I've yet to use.
There was also the ability to inherit any one of my Disciple's strengths, though I imagine that's far more for the future than for now.
Lastly, I think there was also Single Severance, an art I made for Xi Zhao a while back and never gave to him. Honestly, I still don't want to give it to him; it is far too restricting and constricting, though I know for a fact he'd immediately start learning it. Even if I said nothing, the implication of me handing it over would be enough for that kid.
Besides those, there was still a trove of some middling Spirit Stones, a few herbs and pills that I fear we'll start outpacing rather soon, and the litany of the arts I've made, as I always saved at least one copy of them in one of the rings. A bit of a dumb thing to do, truth be told, as if we're ever robbed, we'll also be properly fucked post-fact.
"Ah, fellow Daoist, I'm wondering if you heard the latest news," Wei Lin, as he said was his name, which did match the system's info, spoke up after we'd finished eating and all the kids retreated to their corners, leaving me a bit 'lonesome'.
"Probably not," I said. "As you can see, it's been a while since we were among the civilized."
"A-ah, yes," he smiled somewhat awkwardly, quickly recovering. "Though it's unconfirmed, the rumor is that Ghostblade of the Immortal Sword Haven Sect is dead... and not only that, but that he was ambushed and killed!"
... I know I'm supposed to feign shock here, but, honestly, I can't.
Immortal Sword Haven Sect is one of the Holy Lands, sure, and I'm sure that Ghostblade was an amazing character (judging by his name), but... I mean, don't people die all the time? Why is his death so special?
"He was found," as though unhappy with my reaction, he continued. "Mutilated so badly that it took them almost a week to identify his body! And, worst yet, the killer hasn't even been identified yet, much less caught!"
... I gotta give it to him, huh?
"Wow! Really?!!"
"He he, really~" he said rather smugly, all while his two companions were looking at him rather... oddly. "You may not know this, but in my sect I'm affectionately known as Know-It-All-Wei!"
... yeah, buddy.
I don't think it's affectionately.
He wasn't so much a Know-It-All-Wei as he was a Chatterbox-Wei.
No, seriously, it felt as though as soon as I loosened the doors ever so slightly ajar, he pushed forth a tidal tsunami as though he saw it as an invitation... and hadn't stopped yapping for what feels like hours.
... no, scratch that, the fucking sun is setting. It has been hours.
Oh my God.
He hasn't stopped once to take a sip of water. Just... how?!
Reminds me of that kid--oh, wow, I actually forgot his name. Admittedly, it has been like, what? Fifteen years, if not more? Anyway, I was just out of college when one of my professors called me back and said there's this kid that's looking for a tutor. And as I was strapped for cash, bad, I'd let the prof know I was available.
So, he hooks us up, and within fifteen minutes of meeting the kid, I knew the count of hairs on his head. He just never shut up.
... it turned out it was a major coping mechanism of abuse, so maybe not entirely like that kid.
Anyway, his yapping wasn't... all bad. I learned some things--mostly useless things, admittedly.
Supposedly, some Fairy Lei and some Phoenix Long (isn't that a weird combo?) broke off their engagement because she was seen showing the nape of her neck to some Prince or another, and now the sect and the empire were thinking of going to war or something.
There was also the ever-exciting news of his junior sister Liao, who was seen rendezvousing with the most popular senior brother under the pale moonlight by the Swan Lake that was actually a duck lake, as no swans lived there.
With each passing bit of news, I'd catch the glimpse of his two companions growing redder and redder in the face.
I am a bit surprised that the stronger one doesn't rein him in, but maybe he's pretending to be weak? Maybe he's one of those classic low-key protags (like me!) that stays in the shadows and seems unassuming until BAM, suddenly he saves the day by being a dashing hero!
... or, in my case, one of the kids saves the day, and I'm the dashing hero/heroine adjacent.
Anyway, I'm not one to speculate, so I focused on listening the best I could.
"... and that's when the Senior Sister and Junior Brother joined hands and died together! Though Elders claim that it's a lie and that they were captured and brutally tortured until their skin was slipping off their flesh, I just know they're hiding the truth of their forbidden love!"
Hm? How the hell did we get here?
"Wow. That's... quite some love."
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"And then there's the tale of--"
"--fellow Daoist Wei," I quickly interrupted, fearful it would be yet another tale of savagery dressed up into something nicer, as this kid clearly had his own way of coping with things. "I will be candid with you."
"Hm?"
"You talk… way too much," the two behind him gasped invisibly as he stared at me with a confused look.
"Fellow Daoist...?"
"Don't get me wrong--I enjoyed your stories quite a lot," I said. "But they are also quite a lot. I will also say that it's most likely just me." His two companions shook their heads rather violently just then. "I am a man of quiet solace. Even wind, if too loud, is too much. I have taught my kids to relay their thoughts to me in four words or less, or simply never speak."
"Oh," he exclaimed softly, staring at me for a moment as though examining me. "Have you had your guts checked?"
"... hm?"
"My grandfather could seldom listen to people, too," he said. "But it turned out he had Qi-Chewing Parasites in his guts! Ever since Alchemist Juang took them out, the man can listen to people talk forever without so much as blinking!"
"Because he's comatose?"
"Who can say? The point is that us having him examined saved his life, and it was all because he couldn't listen to people."
"Oh. Sure. I will have someone examine my guts for Qi-Chewing Parasites."
"Fantastic! Which also reminds me of--"
"--I am still susceptible to them, however. For my health's sake, fellow Daoist, perhaps spare me this one time?"
"Oh, of course! Apologies! I will limit myself."
"Thank you."
"Tomorrow, I shall tell you the story of how I once caught a glimpse of the Light Maiden sunbathing! She was pearlescent, her skin akin to a luminous shade of milk, shorn of any and all blemishes as though sculpted by gods to utmost perfection! Her beauty earmarked a storm within me, a storm that I am unable to tide against to this day; that image haunts me, like an Inner Demon, plaguing my dreams as it does my nightmares. I toss and I turn, I yearn and I abstain..."
... yeah.
It was my fault for trying to be a nice Samaritan.
Good lesson, thus, for the future.
Never take anyone in, for any reason whatsoever.
"Wei, we've been found." At some point in his incessant yapping, one of his companions--the weaker one whose name I've already forgotten, to be honest--broke the silence as the other one stood up, alert. Even Wei's casual countenance shifted immediately to that of chill and apathy, causing no small amount of Qi disturbance around us.
"How?!" he almost growled as he stood up. "Dammit. Cai, cover them. Min, you're with me."
"We can't fight, Wei! You still haven't recovered! Cai and I can take care of it!"
"Just listen, goddammit." Wei took a deep breath as I finally realized what they were mumbling about--it was the snippet of raging energy swirling about ten miles from the direction they flew in from. There were about a dozen signatures, but none that seemed stronger than Wei himself. "Cai, if it looks like we're failing, use the mirror and get everyone away."
"But Wei..."
Disregarding their melodramatic conversation for a moment, I shifted to the side, where I saw Long Tao slowly stand up and focus toward the source of energy. His face looked like that of a planner, and by now I was familiar enough with him that I already knew what he wanted to do.
... the issue was, I really didn't want to expose the kids to these three. It's already cost us dearly in the Silvercrest City, and I feel we'd simply be making the same mistake yet again.
Although... our little trek in the forest did sort of reveal our shortcomings, and most of that was related to the fact that the kids simply didn't have enough fighting experience.
Besides, if it was about running away, I still had that chariot stashed away... that I couldn't use since it required so many stones that the sheer number made my head hurt.
Oh well.
Seeing Long Tao faintly nodding before sitting down and pretending to meditate, I sighed and stood up, dusting off my robes.
"Fellow Daoists," I interrupted their little fervent chat as they all turned toward me. "You're our guests. Where I'm from, we take great honor in protecting our guests, even unto death."
"A-ah, fellow Daoist, that is very kind of you but--"
"--I'm not offering," I cut him rather sharply. "For once, shut up and listen. My children, you see," I said with a faint smile, feeling them slowly appear behind my back. "Need whetstones. They will be mighty indebted to you for providing them with some. So, please, step back and allow us to exercise our dearly held customs to the best of our abilities."
Wei chose to humor the old man, though he stealthily signaled to his friends that they should be ready to execute the plan immediately.
Even if he appreciated the gesture, he knew well enough that not even the old man, who seemed to be in the middle stages of Spirit Manifestation Realm, could do much against their pursuers, let alone the kids, none of whom seemed to even be twenty yet.
The chances were that, as soon as their pursuers showed up, the kids would turn fearful and the man would awkwardly ask them to help. Perhaps a bit annoying, but not much else.
He felt a bit guilty as this wasn't truly the intended plan; he'd wanted to shelter himself and his friends with the group and sneak into the Moon Lake as part of their entourage but didn't expect that they'd be tracked down so quickly. And he was certain he'd erased their traces perfectly.
In his defense, this was his first time being so openly pursued by somebody, as it was his first time running away so desperately; it was a miracle, in a way, that they'd been on a run for almost two months without getting caught.
Though they still had a few trump cards... it wasn't enough; the best he could do was buy some time while Cai escorted the old man and the kids far away enough. He still had a way to slip away, but... it was the last resort, and he loathed the thought of losing it. Especially on those guys.
He sighed inwardly and bit his lower lip, his eyes staring at the point in the sky like a hawk--it was about five minutes later that the space distorted as figures began to emerge.
There were twelve of them, down from the seventeen that they had started with. Wei had managed to kill two, as had Cai, while Min killed one. It didn't matter much, as those five were the weakest of them all.
Their emerald-green robes fluttered in the wind as they descended from the mini warship that they used to travel. Considering that their strongest member was in the middle of the Revolving Core Realm, the ship wasn't theirs but likely on a loan from their Elders.
They landed one by one, their leader--a man Wei's age who managed to actually receive a title, Quiet Blade, due to how impossibly silent his strikes were, even if executed in plain sight--stepping forward rather casually, not even tossing a glance to the old man and the kids, thankfully, and focusing entirely on Wei.
"Little rats have managed to hide and flee for so long; I'm embarrassed," he said, his voice rather high-pitched. Wei tensed, reaching for the scabbard slowly.
"You didn't have to chase us, Jin Lei," Wei said.
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"Then you shouldn't have touched that which belonged to me."
"Hah. Are you really saying that any stone just lying under the sky is yours?"
"More mine than yours," he said, grinning. "Why haven't you run off like you've been doing all this while? I've started enjoying running you down, you pathetic vermin. Oh? Did you worry I might torture where you went off to out of them? Ha ha ha. Quite amusing." Wei gnashed his teeth yet couldn't make the first move. Any second they bought was a second longer that they could restore their Qi, so if he wanted to yap on... he wasn't going to stop.
"The only amusing thing is you hunting us down with five times our numbers and laughing about it. If I were you, I'd have crawled back into some hole far away and prayed the world forgets this ever happened," Wei said. Just then, someone whistled--he snapped his head to the side where he saw the old man had done it, looking back at him with rather wide eyes and a look of surprise.
"Feisty words for a little kitten that is about to die." Luckily, Jin ignored the whistle, as though he hadn't heard it, and continued smirking. "Why should I be embarrassed, though? A man's strength is in how many soldiers he can summon to his cause, in addition to his own. Don't blame me that you only have two."
"The only reason they follow you is your father."
"Indeed," he chuckled. "But isn't the crown of birthright, too, a man's strength? I was born into a superior bloodline to yours--were you wiser, you'd have offered that rock the moment you saw me and elected to join my cause. Alas, the world is spattered with stupid, and you just one among them."
"Tsk, I've never heard another soul so shamelessly brag about something that most of the cultivators alive would hide in the depths of their soul." Wei said, yet felt a twinge of jealousy arise in his heart. Indeed, if he were born to a pair of Elders in his sect, would his circumstances not be vastly better than they are right now?
"Heh. The only ones who say that are those who have none of it. But... I will give you an opportunity. If you kill all these peasants, I shall give you two days of head start."
"... what?" Wei gritted his teeth, his sight darkening. "You may mock me as much as you'd like, but to sully my Heart like that? Fine. Even if I have to die today, I'll take at least one of your arms, you unrepentant scum."
"Hah! You choose something stupid like that instead of just killing some random, pathetic rats?" It wasn't Jin that spoke up this time around, but one of his henchmen.
Just then, a growl broke out, one inundated with anger and hatred bordering on psychotic.
"You dare call Master a rat?" It was almost as soon as the last letter came out that the world ceased to move.
Wei caught a tiny flicker of light as it sheared through the fabric of reality itself; the next thing he knew, there was a head adrift of its neck flying upward as a spray of blood heaved up, spattering everywhere.
And behind it, the flicker of light tore open a gash in dirt that went on for half a mile, ripping up trees and hills in its path.
The wind began to rage as though nature itself was angered by the display, while Wei could only whimper in silence, his jaw agape--not unlike practically everyone's.
His eyes darted over to the old man's side, where he barely caught the glimpse of the young, teenage boy drawing back the sword into the scabbard. There was a look of abject disgust and utter loathing as he watched the head slowly fall down and roll against the ground.
None of the other kids reacted much, though they, too, held the fading looks of anger.
That was all unimportant, however.
That attack, Wei knew from the bottom of his heart, would kill him even if he used every single thing he ever used in his life. It would tear through all his defenses, annihilate all his trump cards, and leave him just as headless as that poor sod lying over there. Which begged just the one question in his head.
Hey.
WHAT THE FUCK?!!