luxe life

"Does any of it make any sense?" One didn't know how to answer that question. 

Staring over the ramparts and at the field of mayhem, he wondered, too, how any of it made sense. The flimsy vapors of black disappeared as quickly as they appeared, and the chances were that most of the world was wholly ignorant of them... but One wasn't. He, as well as all his brothers and sisters, very much knew what those motes of black represented.

Then there were the auditors of the mayhem--an Ancient Clan had woken up, and Three simply chanced upon them just as they were ritualizing their slumber once again. Though they tried to capture them, the clansmen fought to the last man, all ending up dying in the end. It forced a frown onto One's face; as far as he knew, none of this should be happening. While the motes of Primordial Qi could somewhat be explained by something accelerating its return--likely that something within the Nameless Forest--the Ancient Clan's return did not fit the timeline. 

Per the old texts, they would only return when the whole of Qi was converted into Primordial Qi, and not a day sooner. They, too, were surprised--otherwise, they would not have been trying to resume the long slumber before being found out. 

"No," he replied, glancing to the side where Three was standing. The most enigmatic of them all, in more ways than one. Silk-like golden hair ran down over her shoulders, clusters of it tied symmetrically over the back of her ears. She was beautiful--horrifyingly so--but one oughtn't be bewitched by it. The red eyes were not merely the result of their cultivation method--they were the mirrors into one of the most wretched soul One ever had a chance of meeting. 

She was the architect of this, after all--there wasn't a whole body within sight, and not a whole limb that hadn't been played with in some way. Though it was all done under the disguise of 'wringing out information from them', the facade was lost on One who'd seen her unmask herself enough times to know she was a devil like no other. 

"Should we report to the Master?" she turned toward him and smiled sweetly, her red lips colored so not with makeup, but rather with blood. 

"Report what? Do you think he is not aware?"

"Hm, good point. So, what should we do?" for some reason, she still deferred to him--perhaps more so than everyone else save for Four. 

"How goes the search?"

"It's a mastery of disaster," she snickered. "We have only managed to capture two more. Five, supposedly, is too busy tracking that man from the Central regions. Four tries, but he's got a brick for a head. Two is dead. Six is... well, Six. I don't have much to work with," every one of her movements was tantalizing, and even someone who had been around her for decades now wasn't wholly immune. One frowned, scoffing and dispelling her Qi that had tried wrangling him. 

"You never quit, do you?"

"How can I?" she queried. "One man who never once bent to me. Aah, the mere thought of it makes me--"

"--enough," he interrupted harshly. "These can't have been the only ones who woke up. There's a chance there are others, so suspend the current mission for a moment and look for them."

"And when I find them?"

"... try to capture them."

"I will try really hard, just for you."

"I'm sure you will," One sighed and shrugged simultaneously. When he was first handed over the position of the leader in their Master's absence, he was absolutely ecstatic. It felt as though everything he had worked for his entire life was coming true. 

Now, though, he was mostly just tired. What the title of the 'Leader' entailed wasn't so much honorable as it was... busy. It felt like all he ever did was put out fires, sift through hundreds of tomes a day and old, tattered documents, ordering others to look for this or that across the world. On the rare occasion that he got to go out into the field as well, he was mostly tasked with dragging everyone where they needed to go as they were rather easily... distracted. 

"Ever since Two's death," she said. "Everything seems to have gone terribly wrong." 

"It doesn't matter," One said. "Things were never going to go smoothly, regardless. We have always succeeded in the face of failure, and we won't stop now." 

"Aah."

"What?" 

"That commanding tone, that practically carved frown in your face, it makes me--"

"--do you believe in this, Three?" he suddenly asked, seeming to surprise her.

"Hm? In what?"

"In us," he said. "Our cause."

"... are you doubting my Faith?" her playful voice chilled as she straightened up, seeming a breath away from trying to kill him.

"Not your Faith," One said. "Your commitment." 

"Why? Because I'm not an obedient little bee like the rest of them?" her anger... seemed genuine. "Hah. Sitting behind that desk and on your ass all day has driven you mad, clearly. My commitment? Who the hell do you think is doing anything you're assigning these days? Do you think Four has the capacity to do it by himself? Or, perhaps, do you think Five has even the iota of intention to not be distracted by every goddamn little thing in the world? No, no, it must be Six, yes. That child who is yet to wet his blade with blood, yes, he is the one running around the world and fulfilling commitments. Perhaps, I, too, ought to become as committed as them. After all, it seems to be precisely what you are asking of me." 

"... I'm sorry," One withdrew and bowed gracefully. It wasn't the first time he was wrong, nor would it be the last--he'd been wrong thousands of times in his life. It was around the four hundredth that he understood the breadth of acceptance; rather than becoming defensive, it was always best to simply... apologize. 

"Hah. That's the fourteenth time you've apologized to me this year alone. Keep it up, and you might yet reach your new high." 

"I mistook your playfulness for indifference." 

"... no," she mumbled, glancing over at him as her gaze suddenly softened. "You just want that little girl back. The girl who would follow you around all damn day long, and who would have done anything for an iota of your attention."

"..." 

"I've always hated her, though," she said, her smile souring. "She was weak, dependent, and pathetic. 

"Three--"

"--those were your words, weren't they?" she asked, turning her back toward him. "I'll head north, first. Per old records, there was an Ancient Clan that resided somewhere in the Cloud Mountains. Maybe I luck out and find them." 

One didn't say anything as she disappeared, leaving behind only the fading, fragrant scent of her perfume. He could only sigh, looking up at the ashen sky preparing to bear down rain upon the world and wonder whether life would ever get any easier. No... he did not live to make it easier. 

He, as well as all others, knew well enough what awaited them at the end of their journey--death. There was nothing else. Long, cold slumber that they would all have to welcome. Master's first words to all of them were the same--I will give you life, but at the very end, you will have to give it back. 

Perhaps, in due time, he'd gotten greedy, thinking that if he just worked hard enough, and if he properly set up all of his plans, that mightn't become a reality. But it was futile. The world wasn't so meekly simple that it would care for his plans or his ideas or his musings. Beyond the membrane of it was the darkness that would swallow everything if they did nothing. And nobody else... well, nobody else was doing anything.

No... that was unfair, unfair to one person in the entire world who was suffering while the rest of his gilded kingdom tore itself at its seams through backstabbings and corruption. One wondered just what it took to embrace that mantle, to willingly walk out into the void, and face the horrors beyond one's comprehension. Embrace the role that nobody would ever celebrate, for none would ever know.

However, it was not for forever--he was merely buying them time. And, at their Master's behest, he offered them the tiniest glimpse of hope. 

When the humanity destroyed the last remnants of the First Demons, the latter didn't simply vanish from the world--their fragments were scattered, buried deep like seeds into humanity itself. Every once in a while, they would fester and grow and manifest into a creature--a berserk, mad creature fueled by rampant rage leftover from the act of betrayal. However, in that rage... there was hope. 

If those with the special physiques were taught the proper cultivation method from before they turned 15, there was the faintest chance they could eventually break through the shackles of immortality and ascend past the Earthly Immortal Realm. That was the Demons' parting blessing and a curse--even in the troves of betrayal, broken and destroyed by those they shielded from oblivion, they left behind a seed of hope, for they knew that the Outsiders would return one day. 

One glanced back down at the battlefield and gently flicked his fingers before disappearing. 

As he faded in the gust of wind, over a mile of land went up in blood-colored flames, but only for the briefest of flashes that lasted less than a blink of an eye. Thereafter, there was nothing--just lasting dirt, bereft of a voice and words to describe what had taken place here.

Azariel never left his room ever since they returned, almost a week ago.

Leo would glance up and at the window every morning, and would swing by after breakfast and leave a bowl of food outside that would be returned empty when he'd return some hours later, but there were no interactions between the two. It reminded him of that brief period with Lu Yang, and Leo couldn't help but purse his lips; that well and that cirque, twice now, rendered someone room-bound after he took them there. Perhaps it was best that he left the slumbering dragons do precisely that--slumber. 

Sighing, he stretched as he stepped out into the clearing; Lu Yang had gone to tend the garden, Shui'er was still asleep as she stayed up late last night, and animals... well, they were places, Leo was certain of it. 

He also had a late night, having gone into the woods for the first time in days, catching yet another glimpse of the world before this one. It was a memory of a young girl, perhaps not even twenty yet, and her own defiant stand. She was scarcely a fighter--she grasped a short dagger with flimsy grip and shaky hands, wailing about madly as a line of spearmen walked up to her and killed her rather quickly. 

The memories were beginning to weigh on him even more, especially now that he had quite a bit of context to them. Though he was a human, he didn't really think himself a part of those who'd appear in the fragmented memories, full of rage and bloodlust. But it wasn't easy to ignore it all, either, and he feared he'd sink into quicksand if he wasn't careful enough.

As he sat down onto one of the boulders and took out a gourd of fruit juice from the spatial ring, Gray and Whiskers showed up from between the trees, soon followed by Milky and Blackie. The four have grown quite closer from what Leo noted, often disappearing or playing together, though as to how or why, he didn't bother wondering. 

Whiskers leapt off the Gray's back and nimbly climbed up Leo's side, ending up on top of his head and lounging there as it purred. Gray settled by his leg, tail occasionally a-wagging, while Blackie and Milky sat down on the opposite end, seemingly twined. Leo's heart relaxed, though he wondered for how long he'd be able to enjoy days like these. He felt something arouse deep within, not quite a voice but less than a thought, warning him. 

Perhaps it was the marriage of so many new things that he learned stoking his paranoia, but he felt, almost, the world beginning to sway. He felt silly believing it, but wasn't confident enough to ignore it, either. For better or for worse, it seemed that this world, at least, was rather cyclical in nature--things never seemed to happen in isolation, but followed a pattern. In fairness, Earth wasn't that starkly different (sans magic and such), but it was even more pronounced here. 

Primordial Qi's return, for example, was a signal, insomuch something natural can be one. Signal of the changing times, and he was likely, in some way, at the center of them. He knew that he wasn't brought here randomly--if he had been, there would have been no system, no help, no hands that 'groomed' him. No, from onset, he felt he would have a role to play in this world beyond just that of a hermit in the woods. For a while he believed it was to take care of the animals and the vagrants that happened upon these woods, but, lately, he wasn't certain.

Was he a savior? No. If the world needed a savior, they would have likely dragged somebody else here. There were people far more heroic than Leo dying every day back on Earth. So, what was it? Ultimately, he didn't know.

As though serendipitous, Lu Yang returned from the garden at the same moment Shui'er walked out of the longhouse, rubbing her eyes. She wore a purple dress, fresh and well-stitched, and Leo original. He'd made quite a few in the past week for her, and she finally stopped treating every one of them like a treasure. The first one, though, she still slept with, clutching tightly like it was a shield protecting her from pain. 

"I'm hungry!" she exclaimed quickly, prompting Leo to laugh. 

"It's over there."

"Ugh, vegetable stew... again?" she grumbled, but still sat down and started eating, eyeing him the whole while as Lu Yang sat between them to the left, smiling faintly. 

"Oh? So, you don't like my vegetable stew any longer, huh?" Leo put on a pained expression and the girl panicked immediately, beginning to eat with gusto that only a child trying to appease an adult could eat with.

"No, no! It's delicious! It's the best!"

"Ha ha, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it," Leo said as her panicked expression disappeared, a pouty one taking its place. "Sorry. How about this--I'll go hunt today, and I'm going to make something with meat tonight. How's that sound?"

"... you promise?"

"I promise."

"Okay." 

"Okay?"

"Okay." it was a game they began, Leo recognized--the 'Three Okays', he called it. She did it to him on occasion, too, and it felt... oddly reassuring, to have to reassure. 

"I'm done," she said, standing up. "I'll go and take a bath. Blackie, Whiskers, let's go together!" the kitten purred atop of Leo's head, seeming to wake up immediately upon having her name called and skillfully climbing down and running over to Shui'er, jumping on the girl's shoulder. Blackie wrestled free of Milky who rolled to the side lazily while the former sauntered over and followed the girl toward the pond.

"She's going to be one mean young woman," Lu Yang commented as Leo chuckled.

"Yeah. It's better that way," Leo said. "I want her to become the meanest little thorn in the world."

"I've found a rapture."

"... a what?"

"A rapture," Lu Yang said. "Caused by Primordial Qi. I mended it, but it's likely not the only one." 

"Right. And this means...?"

"It means that something is accelerating--or, at least, trying to accelerate--the Qi's return."

"You pinpointed what?"

"It's beyond me," Lu Yang said as Leo sighed, his shoulders slinking. 

"You feel it too, right? The slow change."

"Hm," the old man nodded. "Grandfather used to say that men prayed for stagnant waters as much as women prayed for stagnant men."

"Wow."

"Hm. Grandmother hated his guts. I'm fairly certain the only reason she outlived him was so that she could spit on his grave." 

"They sound... happy."

"Both were as miserable as miserable gets," Lu Yang chuckled. "For same and different reasons. Screaming, fighting, cursing... ofttimes I wondered how my parents didn't turn into them. They seldom loved, mind you, but they were civil, at least. At least in public, mother was a loving, supportive wife, and father a loving and supporting husband, even if they could strangle a dragon with the silence in private." 

"... well, your grandfather was right--in part, at least," Leo said, taking a sip. "There's seldom a worse time to be born than the times of change." Yu Lang glanced over and smiled faintly. 

"Not when you are old." 

"No, not when you're old," Leo replied with a chuckle. "I'm old too, you know? In my ways, at least. But that doesn't mean I'm not afraid of dying. Not death, no--death is... kind, I feel--but dying scares. And, more so than that, it scares me what the kids will have to endure."

"... you just have to believe in them."

"Hm. I'll prepare a gift," he said. "And go north. Ask my friend. Maybe he's feeling charitable, again." 

"..." Lu Yang remained silent.

Evidently, neither Shui'er nor he remembered much (if anything) of their visit north and of Chilly. While Shui'er didn't seem to question it, moving on as though it was the most perfectly normal thing in the world, Lu Yang's eyes were different. However, he never asked, likely having felt that the question would ring hollow.

Leo himself didn't remember the north--not fully, at least. Ever since, however, he'd occasionally get glimpses and flashes of... things, aberrations melded together into chthonian amalgamations. Inexplicable things, indescribable, hauntingly hallowed. And every time he'd see them, it would reinforce his desire to never return even further... but he had to go. 

Whatever Chilly was, and he was likely many things, what mattered the most was that the feathered crow was intrinsically linked to things beyond Leo's ken--there was a bond, a connection to the world's undercurrents, the ones that Leo couldn't see. Perhaps that was the difference between a mortal perception and that of a creature closer to a God

Leo felt faint stirring suddenly as Lu Yang jumped to his feet, reading to fight as a massive rift opened up above them. Purple edges bled out like a beast's maw, framing a dark, obsidian hole--a breath later, silhouettes broke through and Leo quickly recognized the both of them. 

"Master, he's not breathing!!" Yue screamed atop of her voice--it was brutal, and it cracked like a boom of thunder, prompting Leo to immediately jump to his feet and rush over, sliding next to the limp body of a young man with a about a hundred different wounds, each one worse than the previous. "P-p-please save him!! Please, please, please..." Yue mumbled, her face smeared with tears and blood, a mixture that made his heart splinter. The rift above closed, and Leo bent over, pressing his ear near Xiang's nose--he wasn't breathing. Or, if he was, it was so faint that Leo couldn't hear it. 

He pressed his fingers against the young man's wrist, and after a bit of patience, felt the faint pulse. It was there, and however faint, it meant that he wasn't dead, at the very least. 

Leo did what he did with Yu Minge--he took out all the same plants and began dressing up the wounds after washing them out with the water from the pond; luckily, the wounds began to close at visible speeds, though it still looked beyond gnarly. 

Yue was openly weeping and Lu Yang had to drag her back and away from the body as she thrashed about wildly. She didn't hear him, Leo knew--she didn't hear anything, likely. He very much empathized with the feeling. 

He checked his pulse again, but it was still faint; dressing surface wounds was far from enough, after all, so he did the only other thing he knew how to do--he took out the 'juice' from the spatial ring that he prepared specifically for situations like this. He'd tossed in all the herbs he knew had even the mildest medicinal effects and mixed them with the water from the pond. Lifting Xiang's head gently, he slowly dripped the liquid, and the boy swallowed it instinctively, drop by drop. He'd hoped that his blind stumbling in the dark would be enough, examining everything once again. 

What happened? He wanted to ask, but didn't. 

All he could do was stared at the smeared blood, both across his arms as well as the ground beneath, and wondered when his nerves became made of steel. No... they didn't; they were still the same, old, jittery sort, but the weight of Yue's terror, her pleas, and her expectations and desires was the wings to his flimsy courage. 

Liang coughed suddenly, and Leo sat him up just in time for the young man to spray out a mouthful of black blood. The liquid dripped violently through his lips, pouring out like gasoline from a hose, for only a few seconds, but those seconds felt like eternity. 

"Liang!!!" Yue broke free and thrashed over, sliding next to him and grabbing his face as gently as she could. 

"He's fine," Leo said with fleeting confidence; well, as far as Leo's medical skills went, and as far as he could tell, the boy was fine. The pulse had returned to what Leo, at least, considered normal, and he could feel Liang breathing out after putting a finger underneath the boy's nose. Though it looked absolutely terrifying, having someone vomit so much black blood, Leo prayed and hoped with all his might that the boy was 'expelling the horrors', as it were, and not anything else. "I'll take him inside to rest."

"I--I'll come with!" Leo knew that there was no chance in the breadth of the world that she wouldn't come with him, and that she wouldn't stay in that room, as bedridden as he in a way, until he woke up. Though Leo didn't know what happened, he wasn't pressed for the truth at the moment, so he merely nodded his head as he gently lifted Liang's body, glancing over at Lu Yang who seemed just as shocked. The latter nodded faintly as Leo entered the longhouse, Yue in front of him, opening the doors. 

So much pain, suffering, misery, and death. Everywhere, at all times, all at once. Would his being here change anything? No. He was a singular drop of water in a world-spanning ocean, a spec of dust on a beach, the tiniest star in the cosmos. The suffering would continue, long after his own death, and unto death of everything. All he could do was gnash his teeth and feel his heart bleed, bubbling into something that he only experienced briefly before--anger. He feared it consuming him, as he knew well enough just how blinding the anger can be. Anger was a poison, the silent, deadly one, that consumed a person inside out until only a shell, a lookalike carcass remained. And he feared, beyond most all other things, becoming that... again.

Leo knocked gently at the doors and slowly opened them, walking in while holding two bowls of vegetable stew. Though he promised Shui'er that he would go hunting and prepare meat one for a change, considering the wrinkle of his two Disciples abruptly returning (and one being a breath away from death), the little girl understood, and even bravely accompanied him, latching onto his robes and peeking from behind him at the two strangers.

Liang was still comatose, almost an entire day into their return, and Yue was still a haggard mess, glued to his bedside. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes were red, and her cheeks and lips ballooned from all the crying. Even so, she hadn't left the room, or likely even the bedside itself, since they returned. 

Leo walked over as she was yet to notice him--her eyes were glued at the young man lying on bed, her mind likely adrift elsewhere.

"Yue," he called out softly and startled her 'awake', prompting her to glance at him and force out a weak smile.

"G-greetings, Master," he voice was hoarse and patchy, as though she'd been at a concert last night and spent it whole screaming at the top of her lungs. 

"Hey," Leo smiled gently, setting the bowls down. "How are you doing?"

"Uh, good, yeah. Great. A bit tired."

"Then you should rest."

"No. I'm okay here."

"... don't make me make it an order." 

"..." Yue pursed her lips and glanced at him with a flash of anger, but relented. "Fine."

"He's going to be fine," Leo added. "I promise."

"Hm." 

Yue shuffled and stood up, glancing over at Shui'er who quickly hid. She tried her best to smile, but her cheeks barely creased and she simply left, dragging her feet. Leo sighed and glanced over at the young man; he was looking much better, though that wasn't exactly a feat considering just how bad he looked initially. His cheeks were rosy, and his pulse was strong, and even his cultivation had recovered. Per all signs, he should have woken up... but hadn't. Though Leo worried, he didn't let it show on his face. 

Instead, he gently sat the boy up and force-fed a spoonful or two of the stew, helping him digesting it through Qi the best he could.

"Will... will he be okay?" Shui'er asked as she climbed on top of the bed. 

"Yeah," Leo said. "He will. He's my Disciple, after all."

"... am I your Disciple, too?" Shui'er asked with a trembling voice. Leo glanced over at her, conflicted; was she a Disciple? No. She was a kid, after all, and Leo had less than zero desire to set her onto this road, the kind of road where even someone as strong as Liang ended up in such a sorry state. And yet, he knew well enough that the girl's curiosity would drive her into resentment toward him should he reject her pleas.

"You're too young," he said. "Perhaps a bit later, if you still want to. But... do you? Want to?" he asked. "Cultivation is a dangerous, dangerous thing, Shui'er. Look at your Brother Liang," Leo said, gently picking up the girl into his arms as she hung her legs over his arm, twining her arms around his neck. "He is not weak. Rather, he is extraordinarily strong and talented. And yet, even with all that, he still got really, really hurt. And just recently, a man even stronger than Liang--one of the strongest men around, in fact--came about this place, a breath away from death.

"I will teach you the basics regardless, and I will help you however much you want, but you need to decide for yourself whether you want to tangle up with the world."

"What about you?" she queried.

"What about me?"

"Do you... tangle?" she struggled to pronounce the word. 

"No, no I don't."

"Then I'm going to be like you!" she broke out into a grin, squeezing his neck with her arms and pressing her head into his. "I'm going to be super strong, but I won't tagle!" 

"Tangle."

"I won't tangle!" 

"Alright, then." Leo chuckled faintly as he carried the girl out and left the longhouse. 

Out of sight and out of it mind, as it went, since Shui'er immediately seemed to have forgotten about everything and began chasing after Gray, disappearing somewhere between the trees. At first, Leo was a bit anxious any time she'd leave the immediate surroundings, but considering that animals seemed to love her and were escorting her every which way just like they used to escort him at first, there was little else to worry about besides perhaps a few scrapped knees and elbows (which she endured like a tiny little champion... for the most part). 

"How's the kid?" Lu Yang asked as the two men settled down, the bottle of putrid alcohol awaiting. Leo still hadn't gotten used to it, and it didn't grow on him at all, but as there was no alternative, he still drank it regardless. 

"He'll live, hopefully," Leo said. 

"Hm," the old man grunted. "He's at Spirit Creation Realm. That should have been more than enough to handle most things in the Cradle, especially if they stayed around Brooch."

"So, either something awful happened," Leo said. "Or they didn't stay around Brooch." as for what Brooch was, or why it was called that, Leo did not know.

"Likely the latter," Lu Yang said. "Hotheaded, young, and talented--you cannot find a single worse combination of traits for bad decision making." 

"Speaking from experience?" Leo grinned.

"So much of it, yes. You?"

"Oh, the stories are endless," Leo recalled the teenage as well as young adult years, and though there was no magic or cultivation or death and such back on Earth, he had another really bad trait that should never be combined with the other three--disposable income... lots of it. Well, it wasn't income so much as it was allowance. There were nights where he'd drop five or six grand like it was nothing and not even remember how he spent them. Likely on buying eighty bottles of tequila, he mused. 

And stories, indeed, were endless--in his case literally. Every once in a while, he'd make his way to one or another gossip magazine or blog, dubbed the brainless scion wasting away his family's hard-earned wealth. There was nothing quite like being a young person with no impulse control and access to infinite money. 

Ultimately, though, that lifestyle destroyed him. By his thirties, he was struggling with weight, he was having memory lapses even when he wasn't drinking, and he'd practically learned to live with headaches as nothing seemed to make them go away. 

The two worlds, for however different they were, still shared those core similarities. The young overreach, in want of stars, while the old recede into safety and security, averse to risks. Though he didn't know what happened to Liang, it was likely what Lu Yang theorized--they reached well beyond their means, perhaps relying on the fact that they had the feather and the scroll with them, utilizing either both or just one of them a bit too late. 

He didn't want to pester Yue, and he wasn't in hurry for answers. The only thing that mattered was that Liang recovered. 

"And yet, you can't tell them not to do it," Lu Yang said. "It's part of becoming." 

"Hm," Leo chuckled. "Just how many times have I ignored my mother's advice, thinking I knew better than her, only to learn the very lesson she was giving me through a whole lot of pain later? But, as you said, it's part of becoming." 

The two men laughed for a moment, finishing their drinks. Lu Yang departed right after, tending the garden further and (likely) strolling the woods since Milky 'mentioned' a few times that he'd seen the old man just wander about gracefully, taking in the sights. Leo, on the other hand, stayed, too distracted to meditate or cultivate, glancing often at the longhouse and the two windows perched directly above him where Liang and Yue were. 

Two hours would pass before Yue emerged from the building; if she slept, it was in spurts and not for long, but chances were that she simply tossed about on the bed for a couple of hours before growing bored and tired, leaving. She plopped down opposite of him and took out a gourd from her spatial ring, taking a swig. 

"I forgot to greet you," she said. "Forgive me." 

"Yes, the greatest priority," Leo said with a smile, and she smiled too, ever so slightly. "Are you okay?" he asked. 

"Yes," she nodded. "Liang... took it all by himself. And... and it's my fault. Gods, I'm pathetic. So, so, so pathetic it's... Master, please... is, is there any way to make me stronger immediately? I'll do anything--it doesn't matter what. Please, I beg!" she was just about to get down on her knees before Leo stepped in and prevented her, sighing. She bit her lip until it bled, her eyes resolutely staring at him. "I'm his Senior Sister!" she exclaimed. "And--and all I did was stand there like a blind goat, unmoving!" 

Leo crouched, still holding her arm, and patted her gently. 

"Guilt... is like a fire, Yue," he said as she looked up from the ground and faced him again. "An eternal one, to boot. It hurts, and it takes no prisoners. It purges through you like a bolt, searing every which surface it touches. And, in the moment, it feels impossible to expunge--it feels like it will become you. Not just a part, not just one side of the whole, no--you, the whole you. I know, trust me. And no matter how grand a speech I make, no matter what I say, no matter how much comfort I offer... it will continue to burn through you. It will sear into you, and you will feel it rip through you. And you will replay those moments over and over again, looking for any one tiny thing you could have done differently. And you will curse yourself, and hate yourself, and loathe yourself for not doing them. You will cry, you will scream, you will hate... and then, it will get a bit better. 

"You will sleep a bit longer. You will eat a bit better. You'll find that you don't think about it as much. And it will suddenly come back--guilt on top of guilt. Yue, there is no escaping being human. I don't know what happened, and I don't know how it happened, but I know beyond the shadow of doubt in my heart of hearts that Liang would step in front of you every single time. Replay that moment a thousand, a million, a billion times, and he would always choose to step forward. Not because he thinks you are incapable, not because he thinks you are weak, not because he's a Junior Brother... but because he cares for you that much. And you know what? So do I. Just as he, I would have stepped forward, just as I know... you would for us, too."

"But I didn't! I--I could have, I--"

"--people unwilling to sacrifice themselves," Leo said. "Do not bury themselves in guilt, Yue. But, even if you do not want to, there is no fault in that."

"How is there no fault?!" she screamed, her expression distorted and distraught. The look in her eyes was wild, tears streaking down her face. 

"Because nobody here would fault you," Leo smiled as gently as he could. "Not Liang, and certainly not me. He will be okay. And when he's up and about, if he even bothers to think about it, he will tell you the same thing. It's okay," she wept as he pulled her in, hugging her as she let out a voice that tore through his heart. "It's all okay."

She screamed and she cried, and Leo remained silent, holding her. 

It was true--no matter what he said to her, and no matter how well he rationalized it, would not have mattered. Guilt sought no reason, nor did it respond to any; it was as real as it was imagined, impervious to all weapons sans the time itself. At least, that was how it was for him--he never recovered, not truly, but... he got better. Or, at least, he got better at dealing with it. 

At some point she'd stopped, and Leo could hear muffled snores--she'd cried so hard she exhausted herself to sleep. Holding back a bellied laugh, Leo gently picked her up and carried her to her room and set her down, pulling a blanket over her and leaving. For better or for worse, these kids looked up to him--and even if he didn't think himself 'mature' enough to step into that role, he had to. 

On his way out, he ran into Azariel--in the midst of chaos, he forgot about him for a moment. 

"Is everything alright?" the man asked.

"Yeah," Leo smiled, tossing his arm around the man's shoulder and dragging him out. "My Disciples returned. A bit roughed up, but they'll be fine."

"That's good, but why are you dragging me?"

"Because you would have hid back into your room," Leo said. "And I need someone to drink with. Drinking alone makes you an alcoholic, but drinking in company... well, you're still an alcoholic, but you can cheat yourself into thinking you're just a social drinker. After all, if you're always in company and you're always drinking... anyway, we're not going to talk. We'll just drink."

"... just drink?"

"Just drink."

"I can do that."

"Good."

Shui'er tapped out the first, just a little bit after dinner.

Azariel was next, tired of having spent the entire day drinking.

Lu Yang left sometime around midnight, Leo presumed, though it was still rather difficult for him to track the hours.

All animals were gone by another hour, and he was left alone.

In the distance, he could hear the ghosts wailing, but he didn't have the heart or the energy to stand up and go help. Not for nothing, at least; he needed an eve of respite, a few hours to recalibrate everything--not just about Yue and Liang, but himself, too. He'd never allowed himself to think too much about the day he and Azariel met; any time a thought of it would swim up to the surface, he'd distract himself by one thing or the other, uncertain.

But he knew that, eventually, he'd have to face the demons, the whispers, and the fact that he was now a murderer. Whereas before, with the bedeviled thing that he killed as he saved Xiaoling and the kids, he could at least pretend that it wasn't human, that was no longer possible. And even if he did hold the notion that he'd eventually have to do it from very early on in his stay here, it was different--one was a fantasy, and the other one a reality, after all. 

There were a thousand thoughts, all discordant and disruptive, all fighting to become the leading anchor, but none prevailed. It was as though his mind was shielding him from itself, speaking a thousand thoughts at once to drown out the needling whispers from within. 

He took a sip of the awful booze Lu Yang brought, cringing at both the taste and aftertaste, and loathing it as it became yet another distraction. He didn't quite know what to make of everything, especially himself. In truth, he didn't feel... awful, for having done it. There was some guilt, but it was fleeting--and mostly the kind that he warned Yue about, the guilt about the lack of guilt. Though thinking back at the moments did churn his intestines ever so slightly, it, too, would pass within a moment or two. 

In some deranged way, he was content. Not in want of more, but not full of regrets for having done those he did. Whether that was a dangerous place to be or not... he didn't know. It wasn't as though he hung out with murderers back on Earth who offered their own wisdom on the matter, and if he so much as brought up that question in this world, he would likely get laughed at. Murder here seemed as common as throwing out a slur was back on Earth--just an hourly thing that few batted their eyes on. 

He suddenly heard footsteps and turned toward the longhouse where he saw the tall and stalwart figure emerge. Since it had been some time since the young man was gone, Leo forgot just how tall he was--six-five at the very least, with a build that would likely make him a prolific model back on Earth. And yet, even someone like him was an inch away from dying not a day earlier. 

"Liang?" Leo shot up to his feet and toward the young man, grabbing him gently. "Are you well enough to walk?"

"Yes, thank you, Master," Liang replied as Leo guided him to the most comfortable 'chair' around the flame (which wasn't saying much as it was still just a slightly flattened boulder with some straw and grass on top of it) and helping him sit down. 

"Sorry, there's no leftovers. Want me to whip up some dinner? Shouldn't take too long."

"No, no, I'm not hungry," he said. "I just needed some fresh air."

"Ah. How are you feeling?"

"Mostly nauseous," the young man smiled faintly as he spoke. "But considering how I likely was when you first saw me... I'm a tree, now."

"Well, you are very tall."

"Ha ha," the two laughed for a moment as Leo wondered whether it was right to ask the one question he was dying to ask. "How is Yue?"

"Guilt-ridden," Leo said. "And bedridden as well. Just exhaustion, nothing else."

"Ah, good. So, I managed to block it whole." 

"What happened?" Leo asked. 

"Hm, we... we got blindsided, a bit, and trusted someone we shouldn't have." Liang started, taking a moment to seemingly gather his thoughts before continuing. "Did Yue say anything?"

"No. Just how she couldn't move while you stepped in front of, well, whatever you stepped out in front of." 

"We were ambushed," Liang said. "Just before we reached the Sword. It was... strange. It wasn't an ordinary ambush--there were other cultivators, there were Others involved, and even Demonic Beasts. It was as though they banded together against us, and would then make it into a free-for-all for spoils after Yue and I were killed. Hey, Master, can... can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"The reason why we were trying to go as deep as we could," Liang said. "Was because both Yue and I felt a kind of... resonance. As though there was something in the Cradle's depths calling for us. Just before the fight broke out, actually, I caught a fading glimpse of it--but it was strange. I've never seen anything like it before. It was like Qi... but the opposite of it. Like someone took ordinary Qi and twisted it in ways that weren't... natural." for a change, Leo knew the answer--or, at least, part of the answer, and he wasn't going to withhold it.

"It's Primordial Qi," he said, having felt something somewhat similar himself when he went to that lake, the strange kind of resonance, as though a part of him was ripped and discarded, and he was now looking for it. "It's started returning to the world, in small doses. I didn't think it spread even outside the Forest, however."

"Oh," Liang exclaimed softly. "I... I thought it was some kind of ancient spirit..." he added sheepishly, seeming embarrassed. Leo laughed for a moment, taking out a bottle of the rancid alcohol and tossing it over the flames toward him. Liang caught it easily, uncapping it and smelling it, immediately frowning. "Ugh, what is this?"

"Alcohol."

"You... you sure? None of the alcohol I drank before made me want to throw it into fire..."

"Well, it's cheap alcohol," Leo added. "Absolutely putrid, in and through. But it's all I have."

"... oh well," the tall figure shrugged and took a swig, his expression distorting right after, prompting Leo to laugh yet again. "That's... that's the worst thing that has ever happened to me."

"... do you blame Yue?" Leo suddenly asked, seeming to surprise Liang. Though Leo firmly tried to absolve Yue of the guilt, he didn't know that what he was saying was the actual truth. If it wasn't, and if Liang blamed her, he wanted to get in front of it. 

"Blame her?" 

"If you do," Leo said. "Please... don't say anything to her. Pass it all onto me, and curse me out instead."

"... and here I was," Liang lowered his head and smiled, staring at the flames. "Thinking of imploring you not to fault her, as it was my oversight." he took yet another swing, nearly belching, before continuing. "Yue--I mean, Junior Sister... she's many things, but experienced isn't one. Though I knew it, I only realized the extent of it when we reached the Cradle. That was when I knew that I'd have to be twice as on alert, twice as cautious, twice as paranoid. But... I relaxed, at the worst time at that. She did nothing wrong. Rather, considering that was her first excursion out into the world... she did fantastically." 

"You really care for her, huh?" Leo said, taking a swig. 

"Hm," he nodded. "Ah, but she is also a bit scary."

"She is?"

"Before she tore the scroll," Liang said. "She, uh... I, I don't think I should say this, but you'd probably find out, if you already hadn't. She, uh, she used the feather... twice."

"Oh."

"She concentrated it!" he quickly added. "Just at those who attacked us! I... I think... please forgive her, Master! She did it for my sake, so punish me, instead!" 

Leo fought the urge to roll his eyes, taking a swig himself while staring at the man's bowed head. He lucked out, mightily, he realized--his first two Disciples were genuinely nice kids (being potential killers notwithstanding), and, more than that, they seemed to care greatly for each other, as well as this place. It could have been just as likely that they were conniving, treacherous sort who'd look to backstab each other as well as him at the first opportunity. 

"I'll punish both of you," he said. Liang winced, but Leo merely smiled. "No leaving the forest for the next two months, for either of you." 

"..." the young man looked up, eyes briefly ensconced with wisdom that he usually hid. Leo had already figured that the goofball that he was for the most part was a bit of a facade--no matter the natural talents, it was evident that those successful in this world were also very much among the smarter ones. He hid that part of him, for one reason or another, though Leo did like the foolish act he put on--it was quite funny, in bursts. "Of course. It's a well deserving punishment." 

"Now you're just playing with fire."

"Ah, apologies!" he quickly put on that foolish grin and fixed his hair, prompting Leo to grin. Well, having dull, obedient Disciples might have been too boring, he figured. 

"You must have picked up on it by now," Leo said. "But we have three new guests."

"Yeah." 

"Two old men? I don't care what you do with them, just don't kill each other," Leo said. "The girl, though, I'd appreciate if you were nice to her."

"Who... is she? Your, khm, your, I mean--"

"--from now on," Leo said. "Consider that she is. For both you, and everyone else."

"Oh. Of course, Master."

"... you know," Leo said, leaning back and looking up toward the sky full of shimmering stars. "Not too long ago, it was just me and a whole host of animals. And, for a while, I thought that would be my life for many years to come. Then, one by one, you kids started showing up."

"Do you... hate it?" Liang probed.

"Hate it? Ha ha, of course not," Leo replied. "Rather, it's the opposite. I don't care much for what happens in the outside world. For now, at least. But... in some small ways, I've found my calling. To help whoever came here, and to offer a second chance. Want to hear my dream, Liang?"

"Of course, Master."

"You can't laugh."

"I would never." 

"... there is a Sect," Leo said, closing his eyes. "All its Disciples transient. If you feel like the world has become too much, and you simply need a place to escape to from everything... it will take you in. And it will provide a sanctuary. A Sect where there are no competitions, no pressure to become stronger... a place where people can live any which way they want." Leo opened his eyes and glanced over at the young man listening intently. "I know that it's incongruous with everything, but... I loathe the thought of you kids out there, fighting for your lives. And I want to create a place for all those who feel the same way I do. It's naive, in more ways than I can count at that, but dreams ought to be. Chances are that I'll spend a lifetime pursuing a dream that can never be fulfilled, but... I can't seem to care, truth be told."

"... it's a lovely dream, Master," Liang said. "And, perhaps, if anyone can make it into reality, it's you." 

"You are rather good at flattery."

"I've had some experience."

"I see," they shared a laugh before Leo took another swig, standing up. "Do you hear them?" he suddenly asked, causing Liang to look at him confused for a moment. 

"Hear what?" 

"... come with me," Leo said, putting away the bottle and heading toward the distant wails. "Perhaps if you can't hear them," he added. "You might see them."

Liang followed Leo between the trees in silence as the darkness began to thicken. Leaves rustled gently under the harrowing wind, their footsteps ever so faintly joining the symphony of the night.

The back of his Master seemed especially... heavy tonight, he felt, as though it were carrying invisible burdens. The steps, though confident, lacked the usual 'lightness' that Liang liked the most about the ethereal figure that took him in.

No more than ten minutes into the walk, his Master parted tall and wild shrubbery and stepped into the clearing, but Liang... couldn't. His feet froze, his heart stopped, and he felt his eyes bulge at the sight; terror raced up his throat into a scream that he barely stopped himself from unleashing, while blood seemed to chill into frost within his veins.

In over twenty-five years of his life, Liang had seen many things--a good number of which did scare him, to one extent or another. But never before, not even in the face of death, had he felt his entire self seemingly disassociate from reality in a desperate attempt to escape it. There, at the very center of the clearing, was a... figure. No, an apparition.

Transparent, faintly shimmering, ethereal, unbecoming.

It was when that he heard, as though he'd cured deafness. A wail was soft, seldom a screech, but it was so piercing that Liang felt his knees give out and found himself plummeting towards the ground. He felt a gentle force hold him and help him down. Looking up, his Master's face stared back, full of sympathy and guilt, and he seemed to mumble something, but Liang couldn't make any other sound beside the wail.

Master walked off, and Liang watched with horror in both his heart and eyes as he approached the apparition, beginning to hum in a golden glow, reaching out with his hand and pressing it against the figure's forehead.

The wail stopped, and Liang felt the heaviness upon his soul lessen. Bit by bit, he watched the ghastly thing regain its color and shape, and become whole... but only for such a brief moment that, were his entire attention wasn't on it, he would have missed it. It opened its eyes and looked at the Master with such gratitude that even Liang felt it swell within his heart, and within a breath... it disappeared, like smoke in the wind.

It was only then that he realized he was doused in cold sweat and that he was shivering. He quickly used Qi to dispel it and normalize himself as much as possible, just in time for his Master to turn and face him with a faint smile.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I... I didn't think it'd have that much of an impact on you. Though, it seems I will have to learn my lesson rather loudly: stop taking people that I care for to places they don't belong."

"N-no, I'm sorry for being so weak, Master!" Liang quickly said, and he was seldom lying. He did feel weak--if one little ghost was enough to bring him down to his knees, what of the rest? After all, Master asked him if he could hear them, not just hear it. "W-what... what was that, if you don't mind?"

"An old remnant," his Master replied cryptically, walking over toward him and helping him up to his feet. "She died in a fire, cradled around her child, trying to save it."

"... d-did... did she?" no answer came, only silence--but, well, the silence itself was an answer. "Oh."

"I'm sorry for being selfish, Liang," he said. "I wanted to unburden myself, it seems, more than I realized."

"No, I'm glad you have shown me, Master! I just... I just wish I could help in any way..."

"Ha ha, that's quite alright," though there was still some heaviness to it, Master's voice regained its usual fleetingness and color. "I don't need you to help me. I just need to to get well quickly."

"... are... are there more?" he asked the question he already knew an answer to.

"Yes." Liang felt his heart stir and his palms turn damp. "But you needn't fear. They are harmless. Every night, they sing a song, calling for me. And every night I go out and meet one of them, granting them whatever it is that they need. They don't come near the camp, so long as you don't wander far off into the woods at night, you shouldn't encounter them. Then again, perhaps the only reason you could see her was that I was there--or am I simply thinking too highly of myself yet again?"

It was the strum of guilt, and Liang finally understood how perhaps Yue felt--the helplessness in the face of something greater than yourself was unlike anything he ever felt before in his life. After all, even if he did feel helpless before, it was different: he could always merely struggle to become stronger, to outdo whatever wall he ran into. But, despite not knowing much (if anything) of the ghosts in the woods, he knew it in his heart that even if he worked for a thousand years, and trained for a thousand more, he would never be able to help his Master in any meaningful capacity.

Over and over, through tiny and large things, Liang had come to realize that there wasn't much in the world as enigmatic as his Master. All the Arts that he taught them were divine, at least, all the things he fed them were equally so, transforming their bodies in ways that only the mythical Immortals were capable of, and he was a conduit through which they established lasting bonds with Spirits, of all things.

Liang didn't think even for a second that all of this came because of him--no, it was a twine of luck, he knew, that he was one of the few that escaped the Sect that night, and that Lya knew to come here of all places, and that they were taken in, and that he was allowed to stay. A string of lucky decisions well outside his ability to make them, and now he stood at the precipice of greatness that he felt nobody in his generation could match.

And yet, there was nothing he could do to help the man who granted him all that, directly or otherwise.

"I finally understand Yue, a bit."

"Hm?"

"The guilt born of helplessness." he confessed, not knowing why. Perhaps he sought the selfish assurance from his Master that it was okay to be helpless? Maybe it was that he felt honesty was necessary? Regardless, he spoke it into the world just as the two returned home.

"You're lucky, then," he said. "That you know both sides of that coin. How do you feel about Yue's guilt?"

"I... I think it's silly," he confessed again, feeling his cheeks burn up slightly. How else would he feel? His strange Senior Sister took him in, and accepted him, and never chastised him for the way he was. Whenever would the two train together, she would chatter on relentlessly, and he would only ever nod and hum along, but those mornings when she wasn't there with him were strangely lonely. At some point, he preferred her voice, and whatever new thing she was shouting into the void, over the silence.

"Well, there you go." his Master chuckled, prompting Liang to glance to the side where he saw the figure stretching. His Master was some ways shorter than him, and yet, Liang could never truly see it--all he ever saw was a figure looming over the entire world, tall enough to hold up the sky from crashing down upon them. "Nobody else knows about them, so don't mention it."

"Of course."

"I don't think I said, did I?" the ever-radiant brown eyes shifted over and faced Liang with a gentle and warm smile. "Thank you, Liang, for protecting your Senior Sister. If you need anything, just ask--and though your Master is unreliable, I will do my best to fulfill it."

Liang hung his head low and stopped himself from smiling. There was a point in his life where compliments of his Seniors were more of a burden than much else--it was always almost followed by a request, and never a one that took his needs in consideration. Though Holy Blade Sect was his home, and he had enduring, fond memories of it, being its Disciple, especially one as highly touted as Liang, was a burden. He hadn't felt much besides exasperation at the Seniors' praises in years, and yet, in the face of his Master's words, he felt tingling embarrassment, like a child does when their parent tells them they did a good job plucking those carrots from the dirt.

"No, Master," he said. "You've already given me everything I could ever need. Asking for anything more would likely cause the Heavens to smite me for my impunity."

"Ah, don't worry. I'll think of something myself."

"No, Master, I--"

"--it's not a choice, Liang," he was interrupted as his Master slapped him gently on the back. "I've found that in life, as we grow older, we forget the duality of it all--we punish the crimes, but at some point, we stop cheering on the good deeds. Well, no, that's wrong--we do cheer, but that's about it. No rewards. Like only children are privileged enough to be rewarded for good things. So, I'm trying to change that, one step at a time. It seems like I'm trying to change many things these days. Oh well. Someone has to start, no? Anyway, thank you for accompanying me. You should go and rest. Tomorrow, we have to go hunting."

"Hunting?"

"I promised Shui'er a meat stew," his Master said with a grin. "But on the day I was to hunt for some, well, meat, you two came back. So, you want to pay me back? Let's all go hunting tomorrow."

"Of-of course, Master!" naturally, his Master didn't need actual help hunting. After all, Liang suspected there were perhaps one or two people in the entire known world that were as strong or stronger than the bushy-bearded man in front of him, if that, even. But it wasn't as though Liang could help with anything meaningful, either, so all he could do was fulfill whatever was asked of him, no matter how minor and inconsequential. It was the least he could do for a man who altered his fate, and afforded him a chance to potentially glimpse into infinity in the future, something that he would have otherwise never even dreamed of before.

Mei's eyes shot open and she burned almost half of her Qi in less than a breath streaking out Lya and Song from their temporary lodging and out into the open. No less than a second later, a black bolt of thunder ripped across the ashen sky and obliterated the wooden dwelling in a manner that seemed beyond abnormal.

Her eyes darted around in panic, settling only when she saw the figure stop by their side, frowning as deeply as her.

It wasn't an attack, per se--there were no other cultivators anywhere around, and even if there were, none should be capable of conjuring up an attack of that scale. Besides, the ashen skies seemed full of them--black bolts of lightning, varying in sizes and thickness, streaking across and slamming into random points of the world, destroying whatever they touched.

Eerily, however... they made no sound. It was as though they swallowed it instead, turning melody into silence.

The bolts were relatively infrequent and seemingly vastly spread--Mei looked in all four directions yet could not see the end of the ashen firmament. It went on endlessly, dulling the world's colors in a rather stark and somber way. The green of the trees had turned nearly brown, as though a painter had taken a beautiful piece and doused it in coloring oils, desaturating it until it became death out of life.

"What is--" just as Mei wanted to ask what likely all four were thinking, she felt something. A strum deep inside her dantian, prompting her to close her eyes and look deep inward. There, abound in streaks of white was a churning Core that held the essence of self--and though the core itself was always in equal measures white as it was slightly gray (all depending on what kind of Core one forged during the breakthrough), there were a few stains, spots of black. Were she not focused on looking for anomalies, she would have missed them for certain--that was how tiny they were.

Fear struck her and she tentatively used tendrils of Qi to probe the anomalies. Nothing happened, however; well, the anomalies seemed to 'absorb' the Qi from tendrils, but would spit it back out a moment later, except in the form of black vapor.

For one reason or another, though, Mei didn't feel any danger--not instinctively--towards the anomaly. It was unbecoming, and it was beyond her understanding, but... she felt it was non-threatening. Rather, she decided to do an experiment--

She drew out her sword and managed to extract a tiny little mote from within the anomaly, mixing it with ordinary Qi and executing one of the Arts she was most familiar with--the Art shuttled her forward rapidly, allowing her to outpace her opponents and get a surprise hit in. Ordinarily, though strong, it was easily countered by anyone who was prepared for it, knew of it, or simply had good battle instincts, like Shen Tao.

However, something was... different. She knew it the moment she even began executing the art.

Without her even realizing it, she found herself at her aimed destination. Did a second pass? No. She felt that it was so fragmented it could not even be measured in time--it was as though she blinked from one place to another, rather than moved in between them.

Furthermore, she watched her sword slowly turn to dust and disappear, seemingly unable to hold steady in the wake of the expelled energy--the expelled energy that had leveled about a thousand yards of space between her and the mountain's beginning. There was only wasteland there, occupied solely by the fading flickers of dust and nothing else.

She found herself gasping, drained mentally and physically, still unable to process what she'd done.

The attack she executed... it was on the level of those people who have mastered their Avatar forms. No, even before that--the Art she used wasn't supposed to do this. It had no means of doing this. It was a halfway movement and halfway attacking Art, an uneven combination meant to be used as a surprise. Not... this.

Her knees gave out and just as she was about to collapse, a pair of arms grabbed her under her armpits and held her up. Glancing over, she saw Shen Tao staring at her incredulously, a mixture of awe and fear in his eyes.

"... you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," she could only muster a one-word reply, her eyes veering back over to the destruction she'd caused.

It was prompted by a mere feeling, an itch deep within, and she simply wanted to see whether her intuition was in any way correct. There wasn't even an inch of her that though the outcome would be this devastating. If she attacked someone... no, how far up the chain of strength would she have to go to find someone who could take the attack head-on? Perhaps her Master? Or maybe someone slightly weaker?

She knew well enough that none among her peers would come even close to being able to defend it. Even Shen Tao, for all his marvel and talent, wouldn't be able to react in time. After all, she'd fought him and sparred with him often enough to have a general grasp on his strength. And though it was likely that he was hiding some trump cards, unless that trump card was a shield that activated automatically when he was in danger, he, too, would find himself helpless beneath the weight of that anomaly.

Once again, she looked inward.

There were still a few black spots around on the surface of her Core, but they were fewer and dimmer. She suddenly felt pain over having wasted so much of it on nothing, yet couldn't stay in pain for long as she didn't know what that nothing was.

Suddenly, the world shook and Mei witnessed her two Juniors unleash attacks of their own--they were broadly weaker than hers, sure, but still vastly beyond what any Foundation Establishment cultivator ought to be able to conjure. Lya's attack was a roaring bolt of thunder--and though it was a normal-looking one, a mixture of white, purple, and cyan, Mei noted, however faintly, black traces deep within reminiscent of the thunder ripping out from the ashen sky.

Song's attack was similar to hers, an ordinary thrust that dug out about three hundred feet of dirt into a small crater. All three seemed to have felt something close to a resonance with the streaking thunder from the gray skies, and if it was just the three of them and not Shen Tao as well, that could mean only one thing... it had something to do with the Forest.

Both Lya and Song collapsed swiftly after, passing out completely unlike her. Looking into them, Mei saw that both had drained every ounce of their Qi; on the other hand, she managed to do it with more control, though was quite drained herself as well.

"What is happening?" Shen Tao asked the question she wanted to ask as they both held onto one of the kids, looking up at the ever-darkening skies. The frequency of bolts increased, and though there seemed to be no pattern on the surface, Mei started noticing that the bolts didn't seem to land anywhere within a mile of them. "And why did it stop happening here?" she could practically hear the strange, defeated smile in Shen Tao's voice without even looking to the side to confirm it.

"The question is... is it safe to stay here?"

"It's a pointless question," he said. "Even if it's not, we can't leave."

"We can hide."

"We were hiding."

"Okay. So, what's your plan?" she asked with a bit of frustration in her voice.

"Stick to you three, apparently," he replied with equal measure of bitterness in his. She looked over and met his gaze, and felt a pang of discomfort in her heart as she faced him--though he hid it the best he could, she saw it, burning pyres of envy, greed, and even anger.

"... powers don't just come out of nowhere, Shen Tao," she tried to reason. "And if they do, they come with a burden or a curse."

"I'm not asking you to comfort me, least of all with stupid lies like that."

"They're neither lies nor stupid, and I wasn't comforting you," she said with a frown. "I'm merely stating facts. In all the stories you've ever heard or read or even witnessed of people obtaining amazing powers practically overnight, when have they ever ended well for the person in question? Unearned strength is tethered to a thousand devils, and just because ours haven't shown up yet doesn't mean they aren't eyeing us from the shadows."

Before Shen Tao could reply--a bitter remark or a well thought-out argument--yet another thing happened. Well, it was the same thing, just in a different way.

A black spanning at least half a mile in diameter tore through the fabric of space and time, sundering all in its wake... and this time around, it was not silent.

Pain was bordering the worst sort Mei had ever felt in her life--she instinctively let go of Lya and clamped her palms against the ears, but it was futile. Her eardrums had burst and were bleeding profusely, and the sheer resonance of the sound had started a major chain reaction of earthquakes. She watched in abject horror as the tall, jagged peaks of Bloodmoon Mountain cracked and split, crushed under their own weight. It was an avelanche of dust, debris, and boulders, and it was unlike anything she'd ever seen before in her life.

"RUN!" she didn't hear herself scream, and she doubted Shen Tao could hear her. However, she still felt she needed to say it.

Grabbing Lya once again and using Qi to close her ears (just barely helping a bit with pain that had begun to jolt through her system like fire), she shuttered backwards and away from the coming storm of death. She caught glimpse of Shen Tao to her left, running alongside her, Song in tow.

Darkness swelled all around, and soon similar bolts began to erupt every which way around them, turning the calm, still world into one of unmitigated cataclysm. Mei witnessed an entire field of green be torn up into a mile-deep crater of smoking ash and death, while similar scenarios played out all around them.

She didn't know where to run, and her instincts guided her. Within minutes, she became deeply aware that she was running in the direction of the 'fake' Forest--just as she did twice before when in deathly danger, she resorted to the one place she thought infallible.

Whether that was true or not, and whether the forest could survive the onslaught that was destroying the world around them... she didn't know. However, bearing witness to the rivers being heaved up from their roots, all their waters evaporated before they could fall back down to the ground, and watching all light be consumed by the ever-expanding cabal of ashen clouds left her little hope in anything else.

This wasn't the sort of a thing that one survived through strength--it was so overpowering and overwhelming, Mei felt even her Master could only run and hide, and perhaps even Sect Master himself would choose to do so. So, she ran, ran in the direction of the only place she felt could be a safe haven in the times of apocalyptic reckoning.

Leo's eyes turned into slits as his heart churned.

The world seemed to be coming undone.

Just ten minutes ago, the skies above were perfectly clear, and the world was ever-green as it was day-to-day. And yet, in what felt like just a few seconds, it all changed. From seemingly nowhere, ashen clouds began to form, soon covering the sun and turning the entire world dark and gray. All sounds within the forest ceased as it felt its entire ecosystem paused its living for a moment to either admire or fear the change.

At the same time, Leo felt something deep within him tingle, like a spark of lightning trying to burst out from some cocoon. There was a connection being formed--not with the ashen skies, no, but with what the ashen produced: black lightning.

Leo felt the kind of resonance that Yue and Liang mentioned they, too, felt back in the Cradle--except it was perhaps a bit more subtle.

"... it's here?" Azariel exclaimed in shock as he left the longhouse, prompting everyone to look over at him. They were all gathered, bearing witness to the change, silently ignorant.

"You know what it is?" Leo asked.

"It's the Primordial Storm," Azariel replied, joining them, his head craned towards the sky. "Though, I shouldn't be happening yet. Certainly not at this scale." Leo's frown furthered as he looked away from the man and toward the sky. There was something about the clouds that was reminiscent of that lake he briefly visited, though the clouds were far grayer than the lake.

"And this means... what?" Yue posed the question after momentary silence.

"It means that something that should have happened centuries from now," he replied. "Will happen within a year. Supposedly, there have only ever been two Primordial Storms--the first one when the world was created, and the second one when the First Demons ascended. It's meant to herald a change that will have lasting ramifications on everything, as it distributes Primordial Qi all across the world rather than keeping it safe clusters. I just... didn't think there was any Primordial Qi to distribute."

"... could it be us?" Yu Lang asked suddenly. "This resonance I feel... it can't be a coincidence."

"It's not," Azariel glanced over the rest of them. "Somehow--and I assume through Master Leo's handiwork--you all posses Primordial Qi in quantities that should not be possible. It wasn't as though there was no Primordial Qi back then--but trying to interact with it in any capacity meant certain death. Yet, all of you somehow not only interact with it, but you store it in lieu of ordinary Qi, something we pursued our entire lifetime. However, it's not enough--you still only posses trace amounts. It's enough to enhance your combat capabilities, but most of your Qi is still ordinary. Even if you pooled it all together, you wouldn't be able to produce a spark, let alone a bolt like those ones. No, this is... something else."

"And even you don't know what?" Leo asked.

"No," Azariel shrugged. "Don't take me for some expert on ancient lore. Most of what I know is what I heard in early-age schools when my interest couldn't be lesser."

"Well, let's hope nothing too awful comes out of it," Leo commented and shuffled around, starting fires to prepare a meal. The words lingered, though, and he felt he might have possibly jinxed them, if ever so slightly. Eh, I don't believe in jinxes, it should be fine...

**

Yu Minge frowned as he exited meditation room and stepped out into the courtyard of his humble abode. The blue skies had darkened in what felt like a moment, ashen clouds dominating everything and dulling the world's colors.

Just then, a figure appeared beside him, streaking out of bubbling shadows. Xiaoling looked worse for wear, but Yu Minge understood--as a temporary Sect Leader, she worked tirelessly at every hour of every day. Had her cultivation method not been unique, Yu Minge suspected she would have even dropped a few realms with how little time she had to practice.

A frown hung on her face as well as she stared at the sky above, same bewilderment in her eyes that existed in his.

"Do you feel it?" he asked.

"Hm," she nodded. "The bolts, they're of the same makeup as the kind of Qi that nearly killed you."

"Yes," he nodded back. "The world's changing, evidently."

"... you're already back at Soul Ascendance Realm?!" she exclaimed in shock as she finally paid him some attention instead of the sky. Yu Minge beamed with a strange sense of pride, something he hadn't done in nearly a century, grinning.

"Your Master is amazing, indeed."

"... unfair," she frowned. "Maybe I should visit Leo and ask him to do whatever he did to you."

"Do you suppose he's the cause of change?" Yu Minge asked, wondering what she felt.

"Rather than the cause," she said. "I feel he's more of a... product. Like a herald, of sorts. This would have happened either way, it's just that he happened slightly beforehand. Perhaps as means to prepare us, or prepare something else, or perhaps purely by accident. We still don't really know where he came from, do we?"

"Not in the slightest," Yu Minge shrugged. "But I hardly feel that is a relevant point. You're right in your assessment--otherwise, he would not have had the means of curing me, or affording me this opportunity. What role he has, or, indeed, us even, in this entire play unfolding... I wonder."

"Word of warning," Xiaoling said. "The news has reached us that the Nascent Realm Cultivator is coming here. Alongside the news was a warning--he's a hedonist in want of wine and women more than anything. I'll do a lot of things for the Sect, but that's not one of them."

"Nor would I ask you or any of our Disciples," Yu Minge said. "Entertain him with politeness, at first. If he responds in kind, aid him in his investigation the best you can. However, if he tries anything out of the ordinary... well, the solution is simple, isn't it?"

"It is?"

"I will just kill him."

"..." Xiaoling flinched for a moment at his bold statement, and even Yu Minge felt it was a bit sacrilegious--while cross-realm fighting was a thing, and most talented cultivators had at least some capacity for it, the higher one's realm was, the more impossible of a feat it became. Already defeating someone of Soul Ascendance Realm at Avatar Realm was almost unprecedented, while killing someone at Nascent Soul Realm was.

And yet, deep within, he almost knew that he could do it. There simply was no apt comparison to his strength before and his strength now--if the attack on the Sect happened today, he felt he could single-handedly repel it, and do so without even breaking a sweat.

"You sound confident," she said.

"I am."

"Then am I to act and behave under the assumption that, from hereon, we will treat ourselves as a Tier V Sect?"

"It won't end there," he added.

"More bold proclamations, Master," she sneered. "I don't remember you being quite like this. Perhaps nearly dying has done irreparable damage to your brain."

"What an awful thing to say to your own Master," he chuckled. "But, is it enough of the jest, young Disciple? You, too, have felt the changes, undoubtedly."

"... hm," she nodded, looking away and toward west, where the forest lay. It was well beyond their ability to see, separated by tens of miles of distance, but they both knew it stood as tall and as valiantly as ever. "If I had the time, I could break through to the Soul Ascendence Realm, I feel."

"Really?" Yu Minge exclaimed in surprise. "Let me see," she stretched out her arm and he gently grabbed it, pressing his fingers against her wrist and sending in a tiny mote of Qi, shooting it through her body. He closed and opened his eyes as though in a blink, staring at her with a faint look of shock therein. "Your ailments... are completely gone." he said. It was even more of a shocker to him than the fact that she was on precipice of breaking through.

"Yes," she nodded, her lips curling up into a rare, genuine smile. "It just... happened. Look at this." she added, conjuring a transparent dagger above her palm. The weapon danced softly in place, and upon closer inspection, Yu Minge recognized certain... oddities.

Though Xiaoling always forged her weapons from Qi, she had to infuse them with her Soul--that was both the biggest strength and the greatest drawback of her method. However, he couldn't find any trace amounts of her Soul in that weapon, yet it still felt as potent as ever before--even more, perhaps.

"I can use Qi to forge Soul Force," she said. "The ratio, at the moment at least, is rather abysmal. If, before, I could fight for an hour, I can now do so for about ten minutes. But, when I first started trying, it was 30 seconds."

"... we owe a lot more than just our lives to that hermit, don't we?" Yu Minge sighed, smiling as well. "Do you think you can break through within three days?"

"Yes." she fired off within a second, as though she were waiting for him. He shook his head helplessly, patting her for a moment. Though she often eluded him, this time she stayed rooted in place, as though giving him 'payment' for the service.

"It will be an auspicious moment for our Sect," he said. "To have gotten a second Soul Ascendance Realm cultivator. Even the Pavilion only has three."

"Is the Pavilion really a threat if you can boldly proclaim you can kill a Nascent Soul Realm cultivator?" she asked, rolling her eyes.

"... don't underestimate that den of hypocrisy," he said, his tone faintly grave. "There is a reason they were the first Sect to form on these lands after the collapse of the Empire of the Moon, and why they were the first sect to reach Tier IV. Have you ever wondered, thus, why they remained Tier IV Sect? For almost 150 years now, even if they were made out of rock and dirt, they should have managed to become Tier V. And yet, they never did."

"A choice?"

"A choice," he nodded. "Their reach is webbed, extending far out from their tiny little hamlet. If you stir their nest, soon you will find hornets from all corners of the world converging on top of you."

"So, you're saying we stand no chance?"

"I didn't say that," Yu Minge glanced over and smiled faintly. "I am merely saying to know when to tangle with them. Acquiesce the smaller things, stay clear of them the best you can, but if the call for war is issued... we merciless."

"Well, if you do end up killing that Central Ashlander," Xiaoling said. "I have a feeling there will be very few Sects and people willing to tangle with us in the future."

"Strength is absolute, Xiao'er, until it isn't," he said.

"Well, you would know. Ah, I'm sorry," she apologized even before the sound of 'know' disappeared from the world. Her expression darkened, wracked with guilt, but Yu Minge merely smiled.

"Then take it as a lesson, from one of the few who would know."

"... will do."

"Very well. My humble abode is temporarily yours. I look forward to you shocking the entire world."

"As do I, Master." Yu Minge walked off with a smile; she always turned rather docile whenever she brought up his father, either by accident or to try and anger him.

There were only four people in the entire Ashlands who knew the truth of his heritage--his Father, Xiaoling, Holy Ancestor, his Master who has been dead for over 100 years now, and the Gilded Emperor, the man who inherited his Father's former position as the Sect Leader of the only Tier X Sect of the Ashlands, Sword God Emporium.

Yu Minge would wince and feel the twine of pain in his heart whenever he would try to recall his early childhood--it was as though there was a tangled web of roots wrapped around those memories, and any time he tried to access them, the roots would squeeze until his heart hurt too much to continue.

Where his Father was now, why he abdicated his role, why he sent Yu Minge far out and away while still allowing him to keep the knowledge of his heritage... a thousand questions swirled inside his mind, and though he had made his peace in the past with never finding answers to them, now that he saw the future in which he rose to the position of an Immortal... he began to yearn once more, yearn for that which was taken from him, and yearn for the reasons behind the theft.

Per the Ancient Covenant, there were 33 Seals--from the Avowed, to the Exalted, to the Unhindered. Ancient Clans all existed within the Covenant, and when it came time to chance their survival on the distant future they weren't sure would even occur, Lord T'wan cast from Divine Stone 33 Seals, radiant, circular pendants that had in them the most complex array that the humanity had ever been able to decipher of those that belonged to the Demons--Time Stasis, the Demons dubbed it.

All things, living and otherwise, within the stasis would never wither, would never age, would never rot, and would never die--they would, however, never grow either, never improve, never evolve. Time ceased to matter, as did all things derived from it.

Time Stasis array, however, was so complex that True Essence of over a thousand quasi-Immortals had to be used, killing them all in the process--something that only the most Senior of those who would be entombed in time were familiar with.

The Seals would not respond to any external influence--even if the world itself was to burn down to ashes, consuming all in its path, the Seals would never flinch. Those within would never know, damned to an eternal prison of neither life nor death.

Now, however, the Seals were breaking--one by one, the snapping sounds echoed into infinity as those who had slumbered for millennia were beginning to wake.

**

Ashen clouds stormed through the entire sky above the Ashlands. Whether it was a child huddled around the roaring flames in the Northern Ashlands, or whether it was the noble scholar sipping tea leisurely in the Central Ashlands, they all bore witness to the exact same thing--the change of the world, the silent shift that seemed to have no given forewarning.

With the clouds came the storms, and with the storms the bolts--all those unlucky to be hit were turn to ash in the blink of an eye, mortal and cultivator alike. There were no defenses that could seemingly withstand the judgment from beyond, and masses quickly began to stream into whatever underground settlements they could find.

**

He opened his eyes, eyelids feeling heavy.

A sigh escaped his parched, bloodied lips as he peered past the hallowed walls cast in obsidian, and to the world outside that he had abandoned.

It had come too soon--the change of Age, the foretold and forewarned pathos that he was desperately praying would only come once he'd found a successor.

But fate was cruel and twisted, and it made mockery of the plans of men. It likely had to do with the waking of the Forest, and whatever apparition existed therein--something became the kindle to the fire that awakened the slumbering Primordial Qi, wittingly or otherwise, and now... now was the question.

He could not leave, for if he stepped out even for a moment, the walls guarding the world would come crashing down. The monsters beyond the ken of his fellow people would swarm the Ashlands, consuming everything in their wake. Even the Forest, mighty though it was, would fall. It was not enough to be an Immortal, for it was all a lie.

"Oh, dear friend," he mumbled empty words, looking down at the rusted sword resting by his side. "It appears our time together won't be for long." the sword shuddered and seemed to cry out, prompting a rare smile to emerge on his lips. "Yes, indeed. Death... ah, death would be a liberation for the both of us. But, before we depart, we must paint the cosmic realms with their blood... and pray that there would be those willing to step forward when we fall."

**

Lei Feng frowned, looking up at the suddenly shifting skies.

Had he been a moment slower just a second earlier, and didn't quickly activate his movement art, a bolt of black lightning would have likely evaporated him from existence.

It was unlike anything he'd ever seen, and merely standing beside the vapors of smoke that it left after itself felt... suffocating. His Qi felt sluggish, and moving it around was almost twice as laborious. It was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before--even when fighting others who could alter his ability to use Qi, it was never this bad. At most, he'd only feel it was slightly sluggish, but never outright difficult.

His heart paused for a moment and he pondered whether staying here was worth it--perhaps it was best to return to the Central Ashlands and inform the Elders of what he'd seen.

But...

He couldn't. Not yet, anyway. He saw her--the portrait of a silver-haired woman with cold, detached eyes. Perfect, luscious lips, striking, piercing gaze, the sort of immortal beauty that was difficult to encounter even in the Central Ashlands--and he certainly was of not nearly enough import to be so lucky to encounter one.

Here, though, his word was divine--there was nobody who could stand up to him. He could have anything he wanted, and he wanted her. Perhaps so much that he was willing to even take her with him--veiled, of course, as otherwise others would likely kill him--and wed her.

A weather anomaly, weird though it was, wasn't enough to deter him and make him turn around and leave. If he were to waste such a lucky opportunity, he would never forgive himself.

**

Beyond the skies and beyond the stars, and beyond the membrane of reality itself, there was a shadow-cast court. Black tendrils shaped like vapors and smoke framed edges of all things, dancing and writhing to the soundless existence. Silhouettes would occasionally emerge, though coated in thick vapors still, walking about for a moment before disappearing.

Tall and wide halls webbed out in a zig-zag pattern from the central chamber; the latter was perfectly hexagonal, writhing concert of statues cast out of obsidian stone arising from the center and outward, like a flower blooming. Their faces were of agony, arms stretching out as though toward a reprieve that was just beyond the tip of their fingers, their pain forever immortalized.

Opposite of them, elevated on a suspended platform, was a throne--throne of shadows and enduring silence, its jagged tips shuttling outward from splat. Its cresting rail was a bendy bone of white, enormously large as though ripped from a beast that could trample over a building in one step, and it caused the only other color to appear--that of bright red.

In seemingly uneven, yet perfectly predictable, pattern, the bone would shudder and drip blood from its opposite ends, and the blood would trail down through air as though there was a pipe guiding it, landing directly on the seat for it to be soaked up by the figure seated on top of it.

As all things around, the figure was cast in thick shadow, their features imperceptible. For how long the figure remained seated, its eyes closed, it was unknown. However, when they snapped open, it caused the entire court shook violently, dust and debris bleeding into the shadows.

The eyes were bejeweled rubies, terrifyingly imposing and emotionless, as though bereft of all but a singular desire to consume. They looked beyond the veil of shadows, and through the false skies, and saw it--the storm sweeping the ashes that were stolen.

The court quaked once more, the statues suddenly wailing in agony, their voices tearing through the walls.

"It has come," the voice was vile and coarse, depraved beyond all else; were a mortal to hear it, they would either die on the spot or go mad, devoured by a visage of things that the voice bore within itself. "Death... has come..."

**

Beyond the veil of the Ashlands, on the opposite end of the court, there was a palace--a gilded structure of gold and silver, its walls bejeweled with precious stones, its gardens home to the rarest and wildest flora the realm had to offer.

The walls of its interior held no free room, with either paintings or statues or cups or anything else that shined taking up every inch of it. It was ostentatious beyond reason, gaudy even for the most wealth-obsessed.

And at its center was a hall, tall and wide, and the only place bereft of all decorations--there was nothing but simple, barren columns holding up the domed ceiling, a singular praying mat, and aging stone.

On top of the praying mat was an elderly man, his hair and beard wild and long and as white as snow, his figure skeletal--simple, tattered, brown robes hung loose from his frame, his bones jutting out from beneath his stretched-out skin. He seemed more a mummy than a person, as still as a statue frozen in time--until he suddenly opened his eyes.

Unlike the rest of him, his eyes radiated life and energy beyond all else, terribly bright and golden. He looked past the garish halls that his descendants decorated, and past the membrane of the tiny realm, and saw the storm raging--storm that signaled the changing of tides. For a moment, he peered up from the Ashlands and toward where he knew she hid--as he awoke, so did she.

"Old grudges and new," he mumbled softly. "Time has come to undo them all, it seems."