Traces of the Forgotten

Chapter 78

Traces of the Forgotten

"Our objective is simple," a voice rocked the unstable platform, causing it to growl lowly. "Tear through the first line of defense, torch their assembled gear, rescue the prisoners that are still alive, and leave immediately. Any stragglers will be left to their own devices; if you try to steal on your own terms, you will be banished from the Cradle. Should you choose to become a turncoat, I will personally rip your still-beating heart from your chest and watch the light in your eyes fade forever. If you've understood, grab your provisions from Tual, and meet me at the cave entrance in fifteen minutes."

Yue watched the middle-aged man dismount the platform with a level of charisma she thought impossible. She found herself rather starstruck in more ways than one; the man talking, after all, was the famous former General of the Lingshan Kingdom. There were stories of him battling a thousand men on his own, marching cavalry into chokepoints on purpose and coming out victorious, and stories of how he rejected the invitations of all the Sects in order to serve the people. 

And now, he was here, at the Cradle, and she was put under his watch.

"You're drooling, Senior Sister," Liang's voice tore her away from her dreams, prompting her to shyly look away and wipe her lips, only then realizing what she'd done, angrily glancing over at smirking Liang. 

"Shut it," she warned.

"What? I'm just a bit surprised," he said. "You do know he is almost fifty years old?"

"So?" she grumbled. "We are cultivators. I merely respect him as one and nothing more."

"Of course. Let's hope he won't become a distraction."

"He won't! Shut it! Let's go get our provisions. And, please, try not to embarrass me!"

"Tall order after that spellbound look. He noticed, you realize that?"

"He... he did?" she mumbled as the two moved with the crowd. Though the fort was rather important, it was on the smaller end of things--everything was sort of clustered together, and they only moved for a few seconds before reaching the line and standing at the rear of it. 

"You've taught me yourself," he said. "Why my Junior Sisters used to gaze at me the way they did when I was practicing."

"Hey! Don't... don't compare me to them! This is nothing like that, I swear!" by now, Yue was beet red, gnashing her teeth in anger. "General Huang is a legendary figure, even you said so! Even though he had the choice to retire and practically live like a king, he chose to come here and help future generations instead! We should all aspire to be like him, don't you think so?"

"... he sounds like a distraction," Liang said with a faint smile, causing Yue to look away in a huff of anger, ending the conversation. 

Though it was true that General Huang was almost fifty, he seldom looked the part--he was tall, muscular, with lush, black hair falling down to his shoulder, and a pair of iridescent, blue eyes that seemed like bespeckled stars on a white canvas. And then there was his voice, the sound akin to the booming of thunder, but warm, protective, gentle--

Catching herself in the straying thoughts, she slapped her cheeks and focused. Liang, for all his teasing, was right: this was a place where they couldn't afford any distractions. Even though they'd be just one part of a massive group, things could always go awry at any moment. 

**

Mei easily parried an incoming strike and retaliated, severing the attacker's arm in one fell swoop. Blood sprayed out in concert with a scream of agony as the figure shadowed backward; she didn't pursue, kneading closer into the protective circle. 

Unsurprisingly, they'd become targets almost as soon as they entered the Hidden Realm. Not by the strongest, far from it--those immediately departed from the starting point, in want of treasures. No, they were ganged upon by the flocks of the weaker cultivators, mostly wanderers and members of the smaller Sects. It seemed that the name of the Holy Blade Sect was no longer as powerful a deterrent as it once was. 

However, the attack was futile; it did not matter that they only had one cultivator at Peak Core Formation Realm, all their strengths far surpassed the perception. All those misled by them would find themselves staring at the cold edge of a blade, forfeiting their life. 

The attacks continued, with them dancing in a circle and defending; despite being the youngest, both Lya and Song seemed the least tired in the end, and almost excited even. In fact, their Senior was the most spent one, heaving heavily while sitting on the ground and staring at them with an incredulous look in his eyes. 

"No wonder," Long Hao chuckled bitterly, shaking his head. "The Sect Master dared send you despite everything."

"The rest have scattered," Shen Tao appeared from over the nearby hill, sliding down and stopping in front of them. "Unfortunately, the word is likely to spread."

"That's fine," Qiu Mei said. "It just means that the weak will leave us alone, and the strong will be wary of us. If anyone believes the stories, to begin with." 

"Here, Senior Brother," Lya crouched down and handed Long Hao a basic Qi Pill used to restore the spent Qi. "Thank you for keeping an eye out on us." 

"Haah, thanks," he smiled faintly and stood up. "Junior Sister Mei is right. This will serve as a nice deterrent. We can at least take a breather now and try and orient ourselves."

"Hm? Isn't this where you appeared at the last time you were here?" Shen Tao asked.

"No," Long Hao shook his head. "The last time, my Seniors and I, as well as all others who've come through this portal, appeared at the foot of a dormant volcano. We eventually found out we were at one of the southernmost points of the Hidden Realm. This, though... is unfamiliar. To my knowledge," he took out a rather large canvas from his spatial ring and laid down onto the soft grass. Everyone else, including Mei, crouched down around it, noticing various imprinted landmarks and landscapes. "There are only three places with hilly terrain. Here," he pointed toward the eastern border. "Eastern Wind Valleys. They are broken halfway through by a massive gorge and, beyond the gorge, is the second one: Grassy Dunes. The last one is here," he pointed toward the norther portion, but just beyond the border between the outer and inner portions of the map. "It doesn't really have a name. Most people just call it 'the Bridge' as it leads to one of the few entrances to the inner portions of the realm."

"How can we figure out which one we landed on?" Song asked.

"Most people who left immediately," Shen Tao said. "Went north. Few went east and west, but none went that way. South."

"... you're saying that we're at the Bridge?" Mei queried. 

"Eh," he shrugged his shoulders, looking away from her eyes. "Just making assumptions." 

"We'll also go north, then," Long Hao said. "Either scenario, we won't be skirting toward the center or any of the hotspots where others gather. If we see anything in the meantime, we can explore it."

"Alright. North it is."

**

Yu Minge heaved and spat out a mouthful of blood, bending further over until his nose was merely a few inches away from the scarlet-dyed floor. He felt a lump in his lungs finally give way slightly after so much work, letting him breathe. 

Sitting back up, he wiped his lips, the look in his eyes glazed and distant. Something was wrong, very wrong. He'd been touched at some point by something that he could not understand. 

At first, he believed it was due to his clash with the Immortal--perhaps it left some deep wounds that he didn't notice at first, and that he aggravated now that he was trying to cultivate. But... that wasn't it. Whatever it was went far deeper than even the deepest wounds of the body--it came directly from his soul.

The strangest part, however, was that it wasn't truly malevolent; rather, it simply felt... different. Discordant. An opposite. 

All the same, it hurt. He could feel it ripping him inside out, and even though he stemmed it for now... he could not delay it indefinitely, or even push it out. It was as though it had become one with him, twined wholly with his innermost being. 

Stepping out of the cabin, he looked over the Sect and the fading, blue skies. The moon had partially bled out upon the canvas of the sky, and soon the stars would follow. 

Was this it? 

He closed his eyes, letting the wind jostle his robes and rub against his cheeks. As a cultivator, he never quite feared death; it was as natural as breathing, a part of the inescapable circle of life. Despite pursuing the Immortality, Yu Minge knew well enough that the true one... did not exist. Some only got a few decades, some a few centuries, some perhaps a few thousands of years, but, in the end, all turn to dust and ash. 

But he couldn't go, not yet. Before it completely devoured him, like two opposites erasing each other from existence, he'd have to set up his home for a future without him. He was their shelter, and without him, the wolves would come growling from the woods, hungry and bloodthirsty. 

A flash of wind passed by, and he disappeared, as though never there, leaving behind a fleeting shadow of nothing, and a tiny mote of black light that disappeared as soon as it touched the floor. The aged, weathered wood... was reborn anew, abruptly. A single branch broke out from the wooden confines and, within seconds, a set of leaves appeared on top of it and, before long, buds which began to bloom into fruits. 

Under the fading light of the sun, life appeared from the seeming nowhere... and soon faded to ash and dust, as though never there.