Hung Lee paced back and forth across the hall.
*Aargh,* he screamed, 'I have to act fast.' What if that peasant boy had already used the sword? What if he had taken what was in it?
He couldn't bear the thought.
The shadow servant was already out, looking for more information on Huo Feng. But it had been hours, and he still hadn't gotten any word from the servant. He clutched his hair. This couldn't be happening.
'That fool doesn't know what he has. If I'm not careful, he'll alert everyone to the presence of the Jiang Ling sword.'
Hung Lee screamed out in agony once more. The wait was too much to bear. He'd have to go find out himself. So, he rushed out of his sect dwellings, aiming to look for Huo Feng.
He took only a few steps out before the shadow servant appeared before him.
*Aaah* he let out a small yelp, as he recognised the man who was at his feet, then composed himself quickly.
The noble almost put his hands on the servant to force him to speak. "What did you find out? Hurry, tell me." The only thing stopping him was the massive cultivation difference between them.
He was at the first stage of mortal refinement, in the Peak tier. The shadow servant was in the second stage, at the Footing tier of Mortal refinement.
– 玄 –
In those days, there wasn't a standard naming system given for cultivation realms. Instead, the Mortal Refinement realm was broadly broken into three stages, and each stage was further broken into three tiers: the Footing, Middle, and Peak tiers.
During my reign, I would change that.
– 玄 –
Qi was multiplicative, and the stronger you were, the more it became compounding. The difference between them, even though they seemed so close, was like that of a rainy breeze compared to that of a windstorm.
He didn't dare to be too forward, even though he was the one with authority over him.
The shadow servant spoke up, "The one you asked me to keep my eye on, he's heading to his master's residence. From my searching around, he's known to be there whenever he's hiding from you."
Hung Lee sighed a breath of relief. Even if the peasant was harmed by a donkey as a child, he wouldn't dare tell another soul about the sword. Especially not a master who barely wanted him.
The noble put a hand on his chest, "That's good. Then let's head back inside. With how much of a recluse his master is, he's probably not even there, he'd be sticking his head in a sea of books and…"
Hung Lee stopped, noticing the weird aura emanating from his servant. That was the thing about these shadow servants. They had been bred since infancy not to talk back or speak when not spoken to. All traits for a good servant, but whenever they needed to say something, or thought there was trouble nearby, they would still have to communicate it, or they would be severely punished.
The kinds of horrors his grandfather preserved for these…things made even Hung Lee doubt his humanity.
The only way for these servants to communicate their discontent was through their mannerisms and their aura, so masters had to be trained in recognizing it.
"What's wrong?"
"Your cousin, Hung Zhen, is there."
All the color drained from Hung Lee's face. His knuckles turned white, and he let his eyes and jaw widen. "Take me there," the noble screamed and in his hurry, he grabbed onto the shadow servant and tried to have him bring him there on his back.
But the servant didn't move. Noticing this, Hung Lee got off and spun around, intending to land a fierce kick on the slow servant. He connected his kick to the servants, raised his forearm, and heard a dull, shearing sound.
He dropped to the floor in pain. He'd forgotten, they were servants, and not pack animals. Furthermore, they belonged to his grandfather, even if he let them follow him around for his protection and basic tasks.
How would his grandfather look if some of his creations were going around being treated like horses? Where would be his face?
"Call me a lean carriage. Quick!"
The servant obliged and, within moments, had put him in a carriage headed for the elder's residence.
###
Hung Zhen sat back, lying on his silk brocade couch.
*Sssss* He took a sip of green tea from his porcelain cup.
He was thin and the height of the average man, with a long, thin nose and a sharp jawline. He ran his hand over his neck-length, combed-back hair and tilted his head towards a servant. "Where is Li Dong?"
The servant beside him scrambled to answer, bowing first, with his head and knees, touching the ground. Hung Zhen did not look at him. "My prince, we do not know. You sent him out for your cousin, Hung Lee."
He took another sip from his cup, letting the silence draw. The servant remained in the bowing position. A glint passed through his eyes as he held his cup. It was getting cold.
"Yes, yes, I know. He should be here soon." Hung Zhen adjusted himself on his seat. "If he does not find anything, what should I do to you?"
The servant shivered, "My prince, I swear on my life and that of a thousand generations before, your cousin has been acting out of order. He's sent his shadow servant on ten times more missions in the past week than in the past 3 months."
Hung Zhen let out a breath. "Am I deaf?"
"No, my prince."
"Then why are you shouting?"
The servant kept quiet, debating on what to say, "I apologise, my prince. I am just very concerned about your rising to your place as patriarch of the family."
Hung Zhen chuckled. "What a faithful servant, do not worry, your wife and daughter are being well taken care of."
The prostrated man did not speak. Hung Zhen chuckled some more. "Get me some more tea. This one has gotten cold."
The servant rushed to get his tea and left the room. Now, Hung Zhen was alone.
"Come out."
A shadow servant, much like that of Hung Lee, slinked out, only this one had a silver marking on his arm. It was two bands drawn across it with unusual symbols joining the two.
"What did you find?"
"Hung Lee has a small rivalry with a peasant boy from Lunis. He's been harassing him ever since they got into the sect. Your rival claimant," Hung Zhen's knuckles whitened at that, "hired a band of cultivators from the sect to ambush him after the peasant received a fake mission. He came back with a sword."
"Oh? And is this sword so important that my snivelling cousin would send out his shadow servant? Twenty times at least?"
"It seems the peasant found a Jiang Ling sword."
Hung Zhen crushed the cup in his hands.
"Does anyone else know?"
"Only your cousin and us, not including his shadow servant."
The prince clenched his teeth, the skin stretching out and whitening around his jaw and mandibles, he forced the words through his gritted teeth, "Does. Anyone. Else. Know."
The shadow slave responded, "If you are speaking of you're grandfather…then, not yet."
He flung a porcelain plate into the wall, shattering it into a thousand different pieces.
"The elder will not be happy about that," the shadow servant warned.
"So?" The prince's face was still red and his hands were shaking furiously. "Damn him. Damn him, Li Dong." The prince caught his reflection in a shard of glass that had fallen to the ground, causing him to stop and take in a deep breath, calming down, "Make sure this does not get to him, or my grandfather."
Li Dong kept quiet.
"Bah, what does it matter? I am almost as strong as that book-sniffing elder." He turned around to look at the mess he had made. "Come, let us go, we will find this peasant boy and my sword."
Li Dong followed along silently.
Moments later, the servant walked in with simmering hot tea. Only to be left with the sight of the elder's broken porcelain.
His eyes fell in horror.
###
Huo Feng marched across the sect grounds towards his master's lodging—a strange sword hidden in a hilt within his clothes.
He remembered burning the manuscript. It had taken hours to do so. And when he watched, he had to remind himself of his vengeance to push away the sadness he felt.
Huo Feng had only done it after he had read through every single character on the manual and made sure he could recite the whole thing from back to front before he burnt it.
The reason he had done that was because he didn't want to take any chances and even worse, didn't know how to put the manual back in the sword.
But, he didn't regret anything, if it kept him alive, he'd do it a hundred times more.
What was most important was the words of the manual.
"…The first step to the cultivation of this art is battle. Blood. To walk the path of the battle servant is to walk the path of deth. The first slain man to feed your sword must be strong. The stronger the qi flowing in his veins, the better the result…"
For this, he wanted a duel, a death match. The rules of the sect forbade disciples from killing each other, while in the sect. Except for one instance, the death match.
The only problem was that, as someone who had a master and wasn't like all the other untethered disciples, he needed to get permission from his master. Elder Bai Sun.
Flashes of dismay and sorrow crashed through his mind as he walked. They were of his mother's kidnappers. She was probably dead now. He hadn't wanted to believe it, but as he grew up into a man, he fought the thought more and more.
He didn't even want to imagine what they'd done to her.
No! His plan was simple. If the only price the manual asked for in return for power was life and solitude. He would gladly pay it.
This would be his first installment.