Book III -- The War of Ashes
Chapter 151
Border Between the Worlds
Wind swept southward, rapid yet gentle, carrying with it the distant scent of a march. Hidden within the fog assailing the regional borders were needle-like mountains poking out from below, their summits sharpened like blades. One of the reasons why traversal between regions was rare and unwelcome was precisely these mountains, these jagged peaks that could not be traversed by anyone beneath the Soul Ascendance Realm, at least not without assistance.
And yet, there was a rush to the realm that was otherwise often only sounded with the howls of the winds and the beasts, its foggy borders now alighted with the spherical lights pushing back the darkness and its abyssal depths overcome with the expanding bridges of silver and gold. There were precisely three bridges being built at the same time, all from different origins yet toward the same destination--Lower Ashlands. The rung of the world, the forgotten and ignored hamlet that had not even a year ago dared bare its fangs.
Lord Light bit into the crisp chicken breast, its juices splattering out wildly across his fingers and the cloth at the table below. There was a rumbling fire inside of him that he hid, displeased to have been sent here; as much as the Elders claimed it to be a glory, it was a punishment for his discovered... indiscretions. He was told to leave until the stories of those... indiscretions slowly faded from the sect and the Holy Lands around it. And now he was at the far-flung borders of nowhere, cast into the depthless abyss, awaiting the building of a damn bridge to cross.
If it were him alone, he could have traversed the Abyssal Spears all by his lonesome in but a few days and could have arrived at whatever forsaken corner the supposed 'Holy Blade Sect' was situated, uprooted it within the blink of an eye, and returned all in the span of a singular breath. But it was forbidden, for it was not his calling alone.
His eyes veered from the meal in front of him to the other two with high enough status to share the table with him--Dragonfang and Lady Needle. What their true names were was a pointless quest, as both were centuries old, just like Lord Light himself. Unlike him, however, who was gorging on the mildly spiritual foods and drinks, they stayed poised and unmoving, as though meditating.
He couldn't help but scowl silently at the both of them, wondering whether their holy vows were as honest as the blades they carried that took the lives of countless who did not deserve it.
"Why have you summoned us here, Lord Light?" Dragonfang spoke; he bore the visage of an elderly man, well-groomed and styled, a singular blade strapped to his waist. Clean, white, adorned robes fluttered ever so gently, the long, tied hair following the pattern. "To torture us with a sight of a desperate man gorging on food?"
"Funny," Lord Light grinned, putting down the skinned chicken bone and wiping his lips unceremoniously with his fingers. "If I wanted to torture you, I would be eating sausages, old friend." Though he hid it well, there was a wince and a fading murderous intent. "I joke, of course," Lord Light chuckled, downing the salty chicken with some ale. "I summoned you because we are yet to properly assign our roles."
"As we've repeatedly told you, this will be a free-for-all," Dragonfang said coldly. "I understand that you are terrified of falling behind, but we won't handicap ourselves to keep you involved."
"... hm," Lord Light hummed momentarily with a fading grin, eyeing the two who refused to look him in the eye. Free-for-all? What a joke! They were really taking him for a fool, it felt; there was no doubt in his mind that they'd push him to the front line only to stab him in the back after he'd finished cleaning up the lower dregs. "Interesting. Free for all, huh? When does it start?"
"--What do you mean?"
"Precisely that," he said, picking up a knife and flitting it between his fingers. "Have we already begun? Because, if I kill the two of you right here and now, won't I get to hoard all the glory?"
"..." The atmosphere tensed immediately; he could practically feel their fingers tap the handles of their weapons, ready to draw and fight immediately. Could he win against the two of them right now? Certainly--but not without consequences. For all their shortcomings--and there were many--the two of them were still at Mid Nascent Soul Realm. A fight breaking out here would toss their plans into a quagmire, and even he would not be free of punishment should the word spread.
"Ha ha ha," he broke the tension with laughter, jerking his head back and downing the rest of the ale. A mix of bitter and sweet swiveled between his teeth and tongue, watering down his faintly parched throat. The other two did not join him in laughter, as the sun would sooner arise northward to south, but he seldom cared. "Relax. Free for all, you say? Very well."
"Humph," Dragonfang clicked his tongue as he stood up and started leaving; he glanced over at Lady Needle, who remained still inquisitively, but as the latter didn't respond, he seemed to shrug and finally leave.
Silence fell, and he waited; he'd met the woman in front of him a few times before and knew well enough she would not speak until she was ready. Egging and urging were useless and would only annoy her, and though he didn't particularly care for her state of mind, he was curious as to why she stayed behind.
"Lord Light," she spoke, her voice a muffled whisper. Supposedly, when she was a mortal still, somebody stabbed her throat and nearly severed her vocal cords. Though she could easily fix them by the virtue of trekking the Immortal Path, she chose not to as a reminder. How much truth there was in the tale, he did not know. "We will attack you after the culling."
"Hoh?" Lord Light arched his brows with curiosity. "Are you asking me to join you and double-cross that bastard?"
"No," she said. "I am merely forewarning you of what will happen."
"... you either take me for a moron," he shrugged. "Or you want something from me. So, spit it out, woman." She frowned momentarily, her youthful face creasing. She was well over four hundred years old, yet looked no older than nineteen. He could never quite understand it, the supreme vanity of so many to hide the scars of time.
"Afford me the courtesy of beheading the perpetrator," she said.
"Why?"
"The man he killed was family," she said. "Distant, discarded, and unwanted family--but my blood cruised in his veins. Thus, vengeance must be taken."
"Hm," Lord Light hummed for a moment, pouring himself another cup of ale unwittingly. "I have no qualms over who wants to kill whom, Lady Needle. Rather, I'd happily plant my plump ass right at the border and wait for the two of you to go through the culling. But you still seem to take me for a fool," he shrugged, taking another sip and standing up. "You can have his head, for all I care," he added, glancing over before leaving the room. "Though, be warned--should you truly attack me," his voice cooled. "I will kill you, no matter what."
"Thank you for your warning."
"It's not a warning, foolish little thing," he said. "It's a threat."
He left the building in a rather sour mood, grumbling all the way back to his camp. They had been hard at building a bridge for nearly a year, and he hated every moment of it; Qi here was already far sparser, thinner, and of lower quality. There were no towns, much less cities, anywhere within almost a thousand miles. No immortal or even earthly pleasures to speak of. It was a land of no life and no joy and hell for someone like him.
It was all a pointless excuse, either way; a sordid embarrassment struck a nerve of some washed-up Sect Elder who felt affronted that some moron he sent out to 'investigate' got killed by some nameless nobody of the Lower Ashlands. Rather than burying the truth as far down as it could go, they raised an army to go and exorcise demons. He felt truly pathetic for even being here, angry at the fact he had no other choice.
If it were up to him, he would have yanked the murderer and made him an Elder immediately; instances where cultivators of Lower Realms managed to kill cultivators from the 'Blessed Lands', especially Central Ashlands, were so rare they could be counted on the fingers of a single hand. And yet, they were willing to throw away such a promising seed for such an uncultured reason.
"Lord Light," his aide welcomed him with a bow and a towel. "I trust that the conversation was as fruitless as that time you went on a journey to slay a Dragon."
"No," he said. "But it was as fruitless as that time you promised you would capture Lightmaiden's heart. Refresh my memory, Zhuang, how did that go?"
"She flayed me publicly, Lord Light, and beat me near death," he said, following after him into the marble-gilded structure reserved solely for him. "Had you not stepped in, I would be dancing with my mother in the afterlife."
"Haah, I always thought myself shameless," he said. "But you... unrivaled under heavens, as it goes."
"Thank you for your praise, Lord Light."
"It wasn't praise."
"Regardless," the slits widened into eyes that rarely watched; the golden irises shimmered with curiosity as lips curled up into a faint smile. "Your mood seems to have improved slightly."
"A bit," he said. "That silent totem of a woman warned me that they'd attack me."
"... is she stupid?"
"I'd imagine," he shrugged, disrobing down into simple garments. "She asked me to forgo the final kill."
"Will you?"
"If it seems like it would be fun," he shrugged yet again. "Haah. How many days are left?"
"Just four and a half more months, Lord," he said, smiling still.
"... I should have just married that bitch if I'd known she'd make such a big stink out of everything."
"I imagine if you merely rejected her politely, all of it would have blown over by now," he said. "But no. You insisted on publicly fighting her, beating her, and humiliating her in front of the entire Sect."
"Because I thought she was just some no-name junior Elder."
"I wonder how many times we will have this conversation before one of us perishes."
"Thousands, at least," Lord Light chuckled faintly as he sat down, cross-legged. "Leave. Inform me once the bridge is ready."
"Yes, Lord Light."
"Ah--I thought of something fun."
"For you or others?"
"Sneak out ahead of us once the bridge is completed," he said. "And warn them. Detail who will be attacking, from where, how, and when."
"... why?"
"Give them at least a fighting chance," he said, closing his eyes. "If I were excited by stomping over kids who never stood a chance, I'd have become a Sect's Warden, Zhuang."
"And if your warning causes this expedition to fail?"
"Then that would be the most fun thing to happen to me since meeting you."
"Haah..."