Moonlake City (IV)
We all neatly sat around a rectangular table, marble-made from the looks of it, its rim garnished with traced, golden lilies. The table's beauty, however, was secondary to the intensely drool-inspiring spread on the table--there was an entire roasted pig at the center, its skin a mirror-brown lacquer dusted with fragrant spices, still sighing a thin wisp of steam. It looked edible enough to be stolen from a painting.
On either of its ends were bowls of hot soup--one bowl brimmed with bright, shredded greens, silvered roots, and pearl-like grains of rice; the other held chunky braised meat swimming in a dark, savory broth that clung to the ladle when lifted. Further on, there was a variety of potatoes: there were mashed, roasted, and boiled, with a few small pots of what looked like sour cream sitting just beside them.
A low clay platter carried thin, rosy slices of lamb fanned around bones from which the meat seemed to fall on its own. On the opposite end of the table, a deep vegetable stew offered a kinder, greener note: thick pieces of carrot and pepper bobbed in a rich, herb-scented juice.
Cold plates lined the table edges: aged cheeses with oily rinds, soft creams, neat slices of cured salami and dried beef, and cups of goat milk whose tang permeated the air (I could smell that thing from anywhere). Beside them were steaming trays of rice--plain white and another studded with chopped herbs--pillowy dumplings, hand-pulled noodles that gleamed with a light sauce, and a scattering of unfamiliar dishes.
Drinks were as varied as the food: fragrant honey-lemon tea, small flagons of something that smelled suspiciously like beer, and tiny cups meant for communal toasting.
It was... heaven.
My hands involuntarily trembled, and though the kids dived in with beaming smiles, I hesitated.
Would it really be as good as it looked? Food here often looked good, only to taste dry or to be nigh unchewable. What if I dipped in and found out it was no better than what I've been eating all this while?
... or, worse yet, what if it tasted as good as it looked? Could I ever go back to eating tasteless porridge and chewing on rough meat or grass?
I swallowed, slowly taking a slice of the lamb meat from the tray and putting it over to my plate, my hands shaking. I scooped a spoonful of one or another kind of cream, grabbed a slice of bread, put it all together, brought it to my lips, and took a bite.
... hm.
Heaven.
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My grandma is smiling, gently rubbing the top of my head and telling me how special I am. Ah, there's Grandpa, dropping casual racist remarks that nobody was comfortable enough to correct him on.
Everything was melting in my mouth, like it was ice cream.
"Master, are you alright? Why are you crying?" Dai Xiu's voice woke me up from the dream, prompting me to realize there were tears streaming down my cheeks.
... was I really this desperate for a good, hearty meal? Looks like it.
"Oh, just paying respect to the Madame," I said. "If you don't cry, she will think that the food is bad."
"A-ah, really? Is... is that true?"
"It's true," I nodded. "Why would I lie?"
Honestly, I just meant to tease her a bit, but, well...
Before long, kids were openly weeping--as though a competition spawned as to who enjoyed the food the most. Lao Shun and Long Tao were eyeing me with a certain sense of derision; Wan Lan entirely avoided my eyes, as though afraid I'd be offended by what I'd find in there; and Rayce seemed somewhat amused, even joining in the ceremony by forcing out a few tears himself.
Luckily, when Lao Shun translated what was happening, the Madame seemed to not take it to heart and merely laughed at the absurdity, which, yeah, I'd do too.
Nonetheless, after the first moment of spiritual transcendence that I didn't achieve by cultivation but by merely eating good food, I started scooping everything. I wasn't even that hungry before sitting here, yet I was fully prepared to go out, vomit, and come back in to eat some more.
Not everything was to my tastes, of course--I didn't particularly care for most of the cheeses, as they were aggressively potent in aftertaste, from bitter to smoky.
Similarly, I much preferred the lamb meat and beef stew over the pork--though the skin was marvelous, it was sort of like modestly prepared chicken. Underneath, it was rather... tasteless? Though, I suppose, that's why there was an assortment of things to pair it with.
I really liked the dumplings and noodles--in fact, besides the lamb and the bread, they turned out to be my favorites. Dumplings, especially, were almost like figs in that they just fell apart the moment I bit into them. The meat inside spilled out and just coated every inch of my mouth with a slightly spicy flavor.
It may have been my prejudice, but I really didn't expect this world--or, at least, this corner of the world--to even have the 'capacity' to prepare what were genuinely flavor-rich meals. I don't mean just tossing a few spices here or there, or using quality meat; rather, there was a clear and, more importantly, intentional blend of flavors that were deeply reminiscent of a lot of modern cuisines.
If you took this spread and shoved it into a random restaurant back on Earth, I don't think many people would really know it wasn't prepared there. Perhaps the strange herbs that don't look like anything I've ever seen would give it away, but based on flavor alone, this was... well, amazing. Not amazing for this world--but just... amazing.
"Senior told me about this place," Lao Shun said. "Madame here doesn't really take in the travelers--her husband and she used to take in stragglers, feed them, clothe them, and help them, which was how Senior came to learn about them. She's a distant member of the local Ancient Clan and cultivates the Path of Cooking. She may not look it, but she's probably stronger than all of us."
... hm?
What?
I quickly turned toward the old woman and used my Creator's Eyes--luckily, I only had to spend 200 points rather than a fucking billion, so, in comparison, it didn't sting... that much.
Now, let's see just how much of a headache this one will cause me. Because, if I know the system (and I'd like to believe I know it a bit by now, at least), needing 200 points means that, at least in some ways, she's even more unique than Long Tao himself.
Moonlake City (V)
[--Creator's Eyes used]
[Target: Pànqiū]
[Age: 1,698]
[Talent: ???]
[Cultivation Realm: middle True God Realm]
[Cultivation Method: ???]
[Cultivation Arts: ???, ???, ???...]
[...]
[Traits]
[Earthen Touch (???) -- can discern properties of any nature-born herb by merely touching it; cultivating herbs of any rarity is far easier; can grow herbs in climates they ordinarily don't appear in; has a low chance of cultivating Divine Seeds; naturally extracts all usefulness from an ingredient, regardless of what it is prepared for]
[Recluse (Mythological) -- prefers solitude to interaction and almost never interacts with the outside world. Has long since severed the Bonds of Humanity with everyone]
[Kind (Epic) -- unnaturally kind]
[Heart-Scar (???) -- a deeply inflicted wound tracing back to the very beginning of her life that has since become a rooted scar; occasionally flares up and causes severe, debilitating pain. Prevents ascension into the Nirvana Realm]
[--Host is not strong enough to discern other traits]
[...]
[Assessing Suitability...]
[...]
[Special Physique and Bloodline Discovered]
[Root-Breath Body (???) -- a body born of perfect coalescence of Five Elements at the moment of birth. The bearer is naturally spiritually aligned and perceives the world through internal senses more so than external. They can breathe life back into decaying flora, naturally curate plants, and even create seeds that otherwise do not exist naturally. They are internally blessed by Heavenly Dao and will never meet any obstacles during breakthroughs so long as they remain steadfast in their pursuit of Dao. Myths whisper that, at its absolute peak, Root-Breath Body can create life itself with a singular breath, turning an ordinary stone into a sentient sage]
[...]
[Fae-Clan Bloodline (Legendary) -- traces of the Ancient Fae reside within the target's blood; the purity is extremely low, indicating that she may be one of the last bearers of it, as it has been beyond diluted throughout the eons. However, despite that, the mere few traces of it afford the target extremely vast longevity, where even if they had remained a mortal, they may have been able to live up to 200 years. Ancient Fae have been hunted into extinction by The Court due to their alliance with the Dragons, though the half-fae and half-human Bloodline had appeared quite some time beforehand. As it is a patrilineal bloodline, the target's children cannot inherit it]
[...]
[Recommendation: the highest priority is regulating the Heart-Scar; though Heart-Stitching Art on its own is inadequate in completely resolving it simply because of how long it has had to embed itself into the target's heart, it will resolve the most immediate concern of cultivation itself, as it will allow the target to eventually reach the Nirvana Realm]
[...]
[Final Assessment: an extraordinarily complex figure with multitudes of contradictions contained therein that run as deep as the mythos of their ancestry; the Dao of Cooking, rare and often mocked for being classified as a 'Mortal Path' more so than a 'Heavenly Path', is entirely capable of guiding a devoted cultivator through the Crowning and becoming of an Empress, and the target's innate talent is more than enough to support it. The issue resides in the deep scars and contradictions, all of which severely damage the eventual endpoint; as for whether the target will ever become an Empress, it is extremely unlikely, even with Host's intervention]
Huh.
Honestly, that was one of the thickest status windows I've ever encountered, and it's not even the full extent of it, as I imagine quite a few bits of information remain hidden from me. Nonetheless, I'm pretty sure even Lao Shun severely underestimates just how special this old lady is, which is why I turned toward Long Tao.
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He merely looked back at me and tilted his head, as though to ask 'What?', though whether he knew about her situation or not... I couldn't tell.
Was I going to take her in as a Disciple? Of course not. Not only is it beyond absurd, as she's almost two thousand fucking years old, but she could whoop our asses with the tip of her finger and then use our mashed-up bodies as ingredients for some morbid and macabre soup.
As we finished eating, the kids slowly started retreating into their rooms, and before even realizing it, it was just me and the woman--the reason I stayed was partly because I was lost in thought, but partly because I wanted to help clean up.
As I carried off mostly empty trays and plates (no, seriously, we basically managed to eat all of it, despite it looking like a buffet meant for an entire Amish community rather than a small group of people) to the back end of her small house, I wondered whether to hand her the Heart-Stitching Art.
Even if I did, though, could she read it?
... would she even care enough to take a glance at something given to her by somebody she likely sees as an utter weakling? I mean, there's that 'Kind' in there, and though I do trust the system's broad definition of people's traits, things get rather funky when it comes to specifics.
People, ultimately, aren't binary sets of condensed traits--we are complexly layered things that breathe nuance every step of the way. Just because somebody is kind doesn't mean they can't also be angry, or petty, or vengeful. My theory is that the system simply condenses it all into an 'average'--so, on average, she is kind. Moment to moment? I'd never know.
As we finished cleaning up, I gritted my teeth and pulled out the art--making connections is what this world is all about. Without Lao Shun, for better or worse, we likely would have never come here. Not just to this house, but to Moonlake City in general.
Similarly, without Madame Lu, I would have never taken in Wan Lan and would have never taken Rayce in had we not bothered with people back in the castle.
Even if nothing comes of it, leaving a good impression--or merely treating it as a gratitude for a hearty meal--matters.
She tilted her head in confusion as I handed her the tome with a faint smile.
"I don't know if you can understand me," I said. "But I am deeply resonant with people's hearts--call it a physique, a bloodline, or perhaps something else entirely. I feel when people's hearts aren't quite right. I'd sensed it with a few of my disciples and other people I've met in the past, and I've found that this art that my father left behind has been somewhat helpful. It won't cure the ail, far from it, but it might mitigate the hurt just a bit.
"The meal was... beautiful. Beyond simple taste, it was resonant in ways I hadn't experienced in a long time. I can't offer much in terms of wealth, but, please, take this as a form of gratitude. You needn't practice it, of course; I merely ask that you do not share it with others, if at all possible. Uhm. Right. You probably didn't understand any of that. Ha ha. And I'm still talking. Yup. Yap, yap, yap. That's me. The yapper. Khm, thanks. I, I will go rest a bit..."
Jesus.
Talk about awkward.
I hurriedly stuffed the tome into her hands and scurried off, thankful that there was nobody to witness it--nope, there was Long Tao, standing and leaning against the wall, with that patented shitty grin of his.
"Not a word," I growled.
"How about a pantomime?"
"... do you really enjoy doing this?"
"Honestly? More than anything in the world."
"That sounds extremely depressing."
"Perhaps," he chuckled. "But I don't mind it. You shock us all enough that you deserve to occasionally be made fun of. It's a fair comeuppance, I say."
"Hm. Maybe I'll just stop shocking you, then. Oh my. Just now, I had this flash in my mind, and I suddenly forgot this secret sword art that my grandaunt left me. Ah, look at that--an entire library of movement arts left behind by my granddaughter just vanished. How mystical."
"..." His eyebrows twitched as he swallowed a retort and walked away.
Did I just discover a secret weapon? Just threaten to withhold all future arts, and he backs away?
Heh.
He he he he.
This could be fun.
Pànqiū's eyes moved from the back of the young man to the artificially tattered tome he'd handed her; she felt quite bemused by the whole ordeal, as it had been many, many centuries since she was last given an art or a method by anyone.
Rather than reading it immediately, she first finished cleaning up the space and retreated to her room; she didn't plan on housing anyone this year, but she couldn't reject the proposition of the young alchemist.
She had to honor those who have fallen, even if it meant putting up with some children for a couple of weeks.
To her surprise, however, the children were... odd. Despite her eyes being capable of seeing through nigh everything in this corner of the world, she could not see through them--or, at least, not beyond what they wanted to show her. She knew well enough that they were all far stronger than they were displaying and that their talents were likely almost as good as hers, but it was all hidden behind a veil that she could not peek past.
Sitting down on a bed of wool, she pulled open the first page and started reading. She, naturally, hadn't expected much--perhaps a small curiosity, at best. But, before she was even halfway through the tome, she found her lips slightly parted; it was... unorthodox.
It wasn't a particularly high-end art, and the young man himself had said that it wouldn't solve everything, but it was far better than anything else she'd ever come across when it came to curing the ills of the heart--in some ways, damage to one's heart was even harder to resolve than damage to the soul or the mind, as it was far rarer and, thus, had far fewer solutions.
By the time she'd gotten to the end and closed the tome, the look in her eyes had turned deep and contemplative; it was unlikely that this corner of the world could ever create something of this nature. Not necessarily complexity-wise, as the art itself wasn't particularly complex, but the way it interacted with reality embodied concepts that required somebody to understand Dao on a much deeper level than cultivators here did.
And that young man... he didn't seem all that bright as far as cultivation was concerned. So, the tome was likely a relic that either he or, indeed, his family had unearthed at some point and treated as a family heirloom, passed down generation by generation.
Regardless, she was far from being too prideful to accept something so helpful from a stranger; closing her eyes, she slowly began to practice, guiding Qi through her meridians with relative ease since the art, compared to her method, at least, was a child's play.
To her shock, however, she needn't wait for days or weeks or even months for it to yield any results--within just half an hour, she felt one of her heart-veins had slightly unclogged. Not fully, not perfectly, but enough that the throbbing sense of pain that hadn't changed for centuries and that she now lived with in perfect content... it lessened.
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In fact, it was such a shock to her entire body that it convulsed for a moment as it likely imagined it was being attacked--but it wasn't.
Doing yet another rotation yielded a similar result with another heart-vein. She quickly estimated that it would really only take her three or four months to reach the state of relative health where her heart would not prevent her from reaching Nirvana.
Compelled, she sat up and left the room, wanting to go over to the young man and ask him questions, but stopped herself in place; they were guests, and he didn't have to give her that art. To bother him would be rude, even if he were a junior of several dozen generations.
"Hm? Madame? Are you alright?" the young alchemist happened to pass by just then, asking her in quite broken and fragmented L'tish. She didn't make any comments, as it was already quite rare for any outsider to even know of the language's existence, let alone speak it in any manner, even a broken one.
"That boy you're with," she said. "He handed me a rather... curious art."
"Hm? Oh. Heart-Stitching Art?"
"You know of it?"
"Hm," he nodded and smiled. "He handed it to me too, at one point. Entirely unprompted. I thought it was a bit silly at first and chose to indulge him, but reading through it... it's quite fascinating, in more ways than one. I didn't think you'd find it valuable, too."
"It is," she said. "Which made me curious of him. The children, too, I suppose. If it is a secret of sorts, I'd rather you not loosen your tongue."
"Ha ha ha, no, not at all. Truthfully, I know as much as you do; I met them not too long ago and have been shocked repeatedly ever since. I'd learned that, when it comes to them, it seems that the world is weaving a tale curated specifically for their journeys."
"Interesting," she said. "Maybe they may be the ones to pull the wool off this place."
"What do you mean?"
"Ah, nothing. Just an old woman's ramblings."
She excused herself with a faint smile and went back to her room; it was, in more ways than one, preposterous to suggest some random children still wet behind their ears would be able to do something that even she couldn't. Well, she could, but not without jeopardizing her Dao.
Taking out the tome, she read through it once more, soaking in the words that left her slightly rattled. Indeed, these words contained traces of Dao--there wasn't a breath of it, or a guide toward it, or even anything truly specific. But they were written by someone who understood Dao.
And here? There was nobody like it.
Not even those flaunting masters of the Holy Lands--for Dao was not about the cultivation realm or the ability to uproot a mountain and throw it at someone.
It was what separated those still dwelling among these here mortal planes and those who ascended beyond the veil and into the upper layers of heaven.
The wheels of fate turn in ways and manners that leave men silent and dumbfounded, she once again realized; she'd seen it many times before, one way or another, yet it had never gotten any easier to accept it. Somebody had simply strolled into her small hometown and offered her a silent accord of the ages--one that had turned a muddy, dark future into one of endless possibilities.
... and all he asked, in return, was to be fed and sheltered.
More than that, however, he knew. He knew something that nobody else did--not even her Master was ever able to see it or discern it. And yet, he saw it mere hours after meeting her.
Was it really true? That he was uniquely equipped to discern the hearts of others? Or was his mumbling self a thick veneer hiding a monster beyond monsters deep within?
For now, at least, she couldn't tell.
And she didn't want to.
It was a game played by all, and she would not disturb the nature of existence. Not when it had gifted her future she was certain she would never get.
VII)
I went out on a bit of a solo exploratory mission--it was at the crack of dawn, while the kids were still cultivating. I know it didn't matter, but I still tiptoed as though I were 17 again, trying to sneak out of the house to go cruising for a random party, hoping to be taken in like a random vagrant.
It was rather chilly, but that had been sort of par for the course these past couple of months. What surprised me was how biting the winds were--they hadn't quite reached the levels we experienced on the Eternal Range, of course, but I still had to heat up my clothes a bit using Art of Surviving.
The kids, unlike me, had wholly integrated it by now into their fighting styles, developing it well beyond what I thought possible.
Xi Zhao, especially, leaned into the vibration aspect of it in addition to stifling the sounds of his attacks; one of his self-created 'arts', actually, had him swing a blade and then 'detonate' over a hundred small, vibrating strikes upon contact. Individually, they weren't particularly strong, but they were perfect for breaking down Qi barriers and special, enchanted armors.
Light was perhaps the most creative, as she managed to infuse the tendrils she used as almost a 'limb extension' with a variety of ideas contained within the Art; one tendril would release soft pellets of chill, creating moisture in the air before a burst of cold Qi would freeze it all in an instant. On the other side, a tendril would become a kindling, starting up a fire all around it.
... it was humbling, more so than anything else, seeing what talent truly meant. I mean, sure, there were the Heavenly Roots and the Physiques and the Bloodlines, as well as the system-graded innate talents, but they were all largely abstract to me. But seeing someone take something I created and warp it so intricately, in ways I could have never envisioned... yeah.
Somewhere deep down, I always felt that, with a bit of patience and the system's help, one day, I might be on their level. That, at some distant point in the future, I'd be standing side by side with them, fighting the same fight.
But I have a feeling that's not really my purpose in this life.
And I'm oddly at peace with it, all things considered. There's beauty in being the wind in their back, too, and the tender arms they can retreat to when the world becomes too much. I don't need to climb the summit to help others get there.
Dispensing with awfully existential thoughts this early in the morning, I left the small shack and started rounding the streets. At some point, dirt pavements turned cobblestone--they were rather slippery as there was a layer of dew over them, but also quite beautiful.
Granite, too, lent itself to some fascinating buildings all around--with the mottled structure, there wasn't a sense of 'uniformity', as this tiny bit of chaos broke up the monotony of everything. One thing I loathed about most of the modern cities is how same-y they felt. Sure, there were unique aspects to them, but by and large, if you've been to one, you've probably been to them all.
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Moonlake City was, truly, completely unlike Silvercrest City--not just because it wasn't levitating atop a flattened plateau, but the design of the buildings was entirely different. They weren't so much pavilions as they were layered cubes, and the design felt rather reminiscent of some of the 'desert' cities back on Earth.
There were still pavilions, of course, with layered terraces and beautiful, flowery eaves, but they weren't the dominant structure design. It felt that they were reserved for more 'special' places, while the ordinary dwellings and shops were standing shorter but 'wider'.
As the song of the early-morning roosters broke out and the chimneys began to spit out smoke, I saw the city come alive in front of my eyes--the street that I was in, which not ten minutes ago was akin to a ghost dwelling with nothing there, transformed into a stall-to-stall market, with an array of fruits, vegetables, and grains taking up one side, while less organic things took up the other.
Before long, sounds of the belting hammers against the metal began to join the cacophony of sounds--chatter of the people, roaring of the flames, echoes of people jumping in the lake, sizzling, sloshing...
I must have looked rather dumb, as quite a few people looked at me oddly, but I didn't particularly care. It was beautiful, seeing the desolate nothing roar with life so quickly and so perfectly.
As I stopped in front of what looked like a bakery, I saw freshly made dough being tossed into a furnace of sorts, while a previous portion was pulled out.
"Mornin' young man," an elderly woman spoke up to me, her frame showing up behind a stall that came up to her neck, almost.
"Morning," I said.
"You look new. Haven't seen you around before."
"Ah, yes. I've come for the festival with my kids."
"First-timer, eh?"
"Ha ha, is it that obvious?"
"You've got that indispensable shine about you." Her accent was somewhat thick and particularly charming as she rolled her r's, making her speech sound quite melodic.
"Ho ho, I doubt anyone can see my shine next to yours."
"He he, a charmer, aren't you? You should have waited for my husband to come 'ere; he might have finally realized what a beauty he has."
"If he hasn't already, then the man must be blind."
"Ha ha ha," she laughed rather merrily and reminded me of something that I'd picked up on a long, long time ago: her teeth weren't perfect (if anything, there were barely any), but her smile absolutely was. It was honest, cheeks curving back as lines dented her face. "Fine, fine, you can stop. 'ere you go. Feed those kids of yours."
"Ah, Madame, I'm hurt; I meant every word I said."
"... you're a nice lad," she smiled. "But a bit of advice: niceness don't get you far in this place."
"Hm? How come?"
"It's a den of greed," she said. "Where the worst of the world descends. You're a few days early for the festival, but you'll see it soon enough. Why do you think we only have the festival once a year?"
"Why?"
"Because we spend the remainder of it scraping human bits and pieces off our walls and streets. Ah, Madame Lan, good mornin'!"
As she turned to my side and started talking with another woman, I glanced out and over the street surrounding me. I figured there's gonna be violence (I mean, where have I been in this world where that wasn't the case?), but is she exaggerating for effect or being completely serious?
My gut feeling tells me... she's being serious.
I took the loaf of bread, thanked her once again, and started walking back.
How come none of the people in my group ever take me somewhere nice? Like a nice beach where nobody gets killed because of some arbitrary reason? How come it's always slotting me into spaces ripe with death, violence, and pain?
Aah, curse you, Lao Shun.
Curse you, Long Tao.
And curse you me, for always just going along...
Over the three following days, I honestly felt like I was living right next to an airport--at any time of day or night, there'd be whizzing sounds shooting above us as yet another 'more important than anyone else' figure appeared in the city.
It was borderline abuse, though the abuse came with the realization that I couldn't take my morning walks anymore--there were far too many fucking people. It was like being a sardine and being shoved into a tiny can.
As such, we mostly stayed in the house, cultivating, eating, and chatting.
I haven't really spoken with the old woman since I handed her the art, though I occasionally felt her eyes on me just a touch too long.
Just as we were preparing to enjoy a nice, hearty meal--something I'm realizing I don't know how I'll live without going forward--the ground shook as a ballast of Qi swept through the surroundings.
It was beginning to feel like an earthquake before abruptly stopping; I don't know who stopped it, but we all stood up and left the house, peeking out to see what happened.
About four hundred yards south of us, just next to the lake, we saw two figures doused in a myriad of Qi storms floating about a hundred yards up, screaming at each other. The only reason I knew they were screaming was because I could just barely discern their expressions through the stormy haze of Qi, and oh boy were they angry.
A mere breath later, the storms collided--winds swept up as the rooftops started rattling, though, by some miracle, none were uprooted. Jets of water from the lake shot up, aroused by the blasting of Qi, and the two men started unleashing an assortment of arts.
One on the left seemed to be using weapon arts--saber primarily, from what I could discern; the attacks were slow and deliberate but also destructive. On the opposite end, the other man used dagger arts--he did not so much cause the wind as he moved with it, bobbing and weaving between the destructive attacks the best he could.
They were both around the peak of the Revolving Core Realm, as evidenced by the fact that I could occasionally catch a glimpse of a spinning halo when they would commit to a greater attack.
I learned about this phenomenon a bit--the lesser the 'quality' of the core, the more visible it tends to be without special arts to hide it while fighting. As the system rewarded me with what I think might be one of the highest-quality cores, I've never actually seen it 'appear' when fighting or using arts.
I very much doubt people will outright assume I have a super rare core and will just assume I have some secret art to hide it.
The most shocking thing remained just how little the city was affected--sure, there were some trees that were ripped out from the outskirts, and the city received a nice, deep clean from the lake water, but none of the buildings were so much as chipped, let alone destroyed.
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"The fun bit," Lao Shun said. "Is that nobody really knows why this is the case."
"Hm?" I looked over at him. "It's not a high-tier array?"
"It might be," he shrugged. "But if it is, it's one so high-tier that nobody has been able to locate it in thousands of years. It's been here as far as the records go; whatever is built within the specific limit is protected from most external factors."
"What are the limits?"
"What you're seeing right now," he said. "Anything outside this specific layout is not protected and gets destroyed."
Well, you learn new things every day.
I turned toward Long Tao, but all I got was a shrug--but it wasn't a knowing shrug.
... he didn't know either.
Hm.
Okay.
That's actually a bit worrying.
If he doesn't know, either it's so inconsequential it's not worth knowing, or...
Yeah.
Best not to think about it.
The battle slowly began to wind down; the dagger-wielding guy clearly had the upper hand for most of the fight, slowly chipping away at the other one by never letting himself get hit and inflicting smaller but stacking wounds.
And then he got hit.
Blood splashed out like a fountain; his entire body was literally decimated into thousands of tiny pieces. It rained red, chunks of flesh and organs coating the rooftops.
Before I could see more of it, however, something happened--something I very much expected to happen.
Darkness covered my view as a tiny pair of hands--nope, those were four tiny hands--combated to cover my eyes.
Light and Xing Feng were now in competition, though the two settled on cooperation a moment later, with each taking up protecting one of my eyes. I could hear stifled laughter from the back and could only crane my neck toward the sky and sigh.
"I'm okay," I said.
"No, Master!" Xing Feng said. "There's still chunks flying! You will get sick if you see more of it!"
"Yes, yes! Good job, Feng'er!" Dai Xiu proclaimed, even clapping.
"He he~" he chuckled shyly, and I sighed yet again as Rayce, I think, coughed.
Yeah, sure, buddy. You haven't coughed in months, but a sudden burst of mucus in your throat just happens to come up today.
"Okay, they've cleaned it up! You can look now, Master."
As I opened my eyes, they came in direct contact with the old woman--she was looking at me oddly, with a mixture of pity, bemusement, and even a tinge of awe... for some reason.
I smiled, and she smiled back, and I turned around.
Just as I did, the world shook yet again--and then once more. At either side of the city, though outside its confines, two fights broke out, with the one on the northern side shaking the world up far more.
I frowned, as the energy was quite... overwhelming. They were both at least two major realms above me, and that's being conservative with the estimate.
"It's those two again," Lao Shun sighed.
"You know them?"
"Everybody knows them," he shrugged. "They used to be sworn brothers back in the day, then they fell in love with the same woman, and, well... they've been trying to decide who 'deserves her' by fighting ever since."
"... wow."
"She got married about eight hundred years ago to someone else entirely," he continued. "Nobody's even sure what they're fighting for any longer..."
"I hope it's not pride," I commented. "That would be rather depressing."
Just then, a horn suddenly blew up--it was deep and droning, so deep, in fact, that it rattled around inside my head and confused me for a moment. A clear energy, though, immediately burst forth from my dantian and swept that confusion right out.
I immediately noticed, however, that most others weren't like that--the kids were fine, but even Lao Shun was frowning and seemed slightly out of sorts.
All the fighting stopped, at least, and a voice spoke up, echoing throughout the entire city.
"Come to the plaza," it said. "The assembly begins."
Moonlake City (IX)
As we made our way to the central plaza, so did the rest of the city, it seemed.
It was as though the floodgates opened and the rushing waters swallowed the world--except the waters were people, and the floodgates were... well, honestly, I haven't a clue.
I knew the city was packed, but this was insane. We were rubbing shoulders within seconds, and before I could even comprehend what was going on, every inch of seemingly every street in the city was suddenly overcome.
Within moments, yelps and screams blared out--people calling out pickpockets, or just somebody being rude, or for seemingly no reason at all...
Just about fifty yards in front of us, I watched someone literally get his head ripped off clean from the neck. And yet, the march continued, with nobody seeming to register any of this shit.
By the time we'd gotten to the plaza--a somewhat centralized area surrounded by quite a few tall shops--I'd seen at least twenty people die.
And yet, nobody cared.
... this world's proper fucked, huh?
When we got there, my eyes immediately wandered to the slightly elevated platform jutting out of one of the sandstone-made towers--on it were three people, two men and a woman.
Well, more a girl than a woman, to be honest, as she looked no older than Wan Lan.
All three had somewhat unique features, more so than any other person I've met thus far--besides the slightly bronze skin, their ears were somewhat pointy and curled back, while earlobes hung low with thick rings spreading them.
Their noses were long and thin, and all appeared slightly gaunt with sunken cheeks and deep eyes.
The colors of their hair, perhaps more so than anything else, awed me--it literally looked like someone wove a bunch of tiny LED lights in them, as the hair shimmered in colors ranging from deep teal to burning amber.
Gilded jewelry ran above their eyes, woven into their eyebrows, with their clothes reflecting that somewhat garish appearance that I always associated with 'grew up poor, came into sudden wealth'. Perhaps it meant something different in this world, but to me it screamed insecurities more so than anything else.
I'd done a bit of a dummy thing earlier today and spent all but one of my eye charges, which left me in a bit of a conundrum--though I wanted to inspect all three, I could only inspect one. At the same time, I didn't want to spend too many Creation Points, and I had a gut feeling inspecting anyone but the young girl would force me to do precisely that.
But I had another feeling that inspecting her was unlikely to yield anything unexpected. Thus, with furrowed brows and an uncertain heart, the older of the two men spoke up.
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"Welcome, fellow Daoists, to our humble home," he said. "You have all come from far away places in pursuit of Dao, and this old one commends you. Life, shorn of false glimmer and sheen, is the search in regression--we seek that which brought us here so that we may never leave. For those who've been here before, welcome back--I hope that your fortunes may be even greater than before. For those who've come here for the first time, welcome--I hope that you shall fall in love with this place and all its beauty and return every year, even if it is merely to see these streets once more.
"As with every year, understand that, despite our humble origin, we must impose certain rules, as otherwise chaos would reign supreme. Though we can never come between two cultivators desiring a death duel, we implore that you do not engage in fights within the city borders--our Guardian Spirit, kind and benevolent though it may be, can and will be angered, at which point even we will not be able to help you. Secondly, as with every year, you are free to explore the Moon Lake as far and as deep as you desire, and anything you unearth there will be yours. If you wish to sell it for one reason or another, you may enter any of the Grand Towers and make a sale. We will never divulge either what you sold or for how much.
"Children of my Clan, as every year, are in charge of disposing of the bodies that are left behind--should you come across one, please find one of the members of the Clan and report to them. We shall not ask whether you've found anything on the body, but we implore you that you do not disrobe them; even the dead deserve a mote of respect.
"The festival, unlike years before, will be extended to nineteen days this year. We have prepared two competition--one between our Juniors and one between those seeking the Dao--that will take place starting with the seventh day. Anyone who wishes to participate may merely show up on that day, when our Guardian will erect the Sky Platforms. For this year's reward, our Clan has prepared a truly special item--a certified Soul Orb, unearthed from a decaying necropolis." 'Oohs' and 'Aahs' quickly echoed out, though I only had to glance over at Long Tao, who literally yawned, to know that, whatever it was, it wasn't all that impressive. To him, at least.
"For unaware first-timers, the first time you come to any of our Alchemist, the treatment will be free--regardless whether it is just one cut or if you are on death's door. Understand, however, that we have a limited number of Alchemists, and that we will always prioritize those closer to death."
Everyone clapped for a couple of moments, and I joined, not wanting to be left out. While his words sound wonderful, and it all appears to be well thought out, why do I have this damned worm in the back of my head telling me that it's all bull?
"Without further ado," he said. "I shall give the seat to my granddaughter and the future heir of our Clan, Ethereal Rain."
... you haven't a clue what 'further ado' means, do you? I almost sighed, actually, just barely holding back as the young woman stood up from her seat and walked forth, grabbing onto the fence.
"While my grandfather has covered most of everything," she said. "I asked him to make this announcement myself: I have come of age this year, and as an heir, I must seek a companion to herald the Clan's future with me. As such, for the winner of the Junior competition, he or she will have a right to challenge me to a duel--should they manage to defeat me, they will have the right to take my hand in marriage. Should they fail, if I find them desirable, I may take them in as a concubine. Thank you."
... huh.
Yo.
What the hell? These things actually happen?
Wow.
I could practically feel the temperature abruptly shoot up, as it seemed every person under the age of thirty became extremely motivated. Which, I'm pretty sure, made all of my kids stand out like sore thumbs.
But whatever. I've made my decision, and instead of looking at her, I turned toward her grandfather and activated the Creator's Eyes.
Lo and behold, it cost 400 points. It wasn't the expenditure so much that hurt (though it did), but the realization that Pànqiū's status somehow cost less.
Nonetheless, I spent it, and as soon as I did... I realized why it was so expensive.
Silent Sage (I)
[--Creator's Eyes used]
[Target: Lu Yuhan]
[Dao Title: Silent Sage]
[Age: 2,838]
[Talent: peak-Jade (Weakened)]
[Cultivation Realm: Peak True God Realm (Weakened)]
[Cultivation Method: Annals of the First Sage (11th Volume)]
[Cultivation Arts: Endless Night (Myth), Shadow Strike (Myth), Raining Daggers of Blood (Legendary)...]
[...]
[Traits]
[Mortal Wound (???) -- a deeply hidden wound that had derailed the target's cultivation and disallowed any further progress]
[Genius (Legendary) -- once-in-a-generation genius, capable of understanding things at speeds well beyond normal; can more easily evolve and upgrade existing arts, and has the chance to naturally discern the weaknesses of others' arts by merely observing them once]
[Psychopath (Legendary) -- a wholly unfeeling creature, lacking any semblance of empathy]
[Paranoia (Legendary) -- extreme paranoia bred over the thousands of years of strife. Will never trust a stranger, no matter what. Greatly suspicious of all anomalies]
[Sagacious (???) -- an enlightened soul capable of perceiving the tangents of the world and understanding them greatly. Knowledge comes at a great cost, as he--and all others of his order--must surrender their identities to the One]
[--Host is too weak to perceive other traits]
[...]
[Assessing suitability...]
[Anomaly detected. Special Physique Detected. Special Bloodline Detected]
[...]
[Sea-Touched Bloodline (Ancient) -- a bloodline dating to the age of the first land-dwellers, though greatly diluted. Allows for a much quicker understanding of all water-based arts and almost a complete immunity to blood-based poisons]
[Sage Physique, Fourth Order (???) -- a physique that predates records of human settlements. It is said to have originated from the Sky-Bearing Boulder obtaining sentience under Dao. Inordinately rare as only the First Order can occur naturally, and only in one person, while others are forcibly imbued]
[--Severed Nirvanic Stem (???) -- an invisible wound that crippled someone who had managed to reach Nirvana. Almost impossible to fix]
[...]
[Recommendation: the target has fully realized its original potential, and sans one of the Seven Divine Elixirs, has little chance of ever recovering, let alone progressing further than they did in the past. It is recommended that the Host doesn't attempt to fix them, as it would take far too long, almost beyond the scale of time]
[...]
[Final Assessment: a crippled, remarkable talent who had a fading chance of becoming an Emperor, had the dominos fallen correctly. Though most of their cultivation has been annihilated, their lifespan remains largely unaffected, and they are likely to naturally live for tens of thousands of years]
... damn.
Damn, damn, damn.
Even goddamn.
We shouldn't have come here.
I did my best to not show an ounce of the roaring volcano inside of me on my face, as I'm deeply scarred by the system's assessment of him.
It's not just that he's one of the Sages, with whom we have a rather contentious relationship; it's that he's legitimately the most talented individual I've ever come across, even more so than Long Tao (at the moment, at least).
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Short of that billion-something points thing that I'm pretty sure I made up, he's by far the most extreme inspection I've had.
While there were others, like Elder Lu, with deeply rooted potential, he actually fully realized it. He'd reached Nirvana, at some point, and only the heavens know what the fuck he fought to have been wounded so severely at that level.
It's one thing to screw around with things on the fringe while we're hidden in the shadows, but we're now out in the open in front of somebody who will notice everything about us the moment we step out of line.
And, well, there's no chance in hell these kids aren't stepping out of line.
While we can't leave immediately, as that's one surefire way to tell them to take a deeper look at you, we can't stay here for the full duration of the festival, let alone compete in whatever tournament they arrange.
The crowd began to disperse after the speech, with some heading over to the lake immediately and some going back to whatever hole they crawled out of.
I can't even discuss what I've learned with anyone, as I have a sneaking suspicion that guy is listening to everything.
Haah.
Whatever. Honestly, this might not be the worst thing in the world. It'll be the first test of how I handle being put in situations like this. I can break down and freak out so easily, but that'd just be falling back into the old patterns. I'm with monsters, and more of them every few months it feels, and this isn't really going to be an exception to our journey.
From the moment Long Tao antagonized Sages, this was bound to happen one day. And if we had to face them, why not face one that's weakened?
I mean, yeah, he is about six billion times stronger than all of us combined, but we don't have to fight him. Or, well, maybe Long Tao figures out a way to defeat him. Or his daughter takes fancy to Xi Zhao or something and their love manages to--okay, yeah, it's the first one, more likely.
Worst comes to worst, we fight.
It's not like I have no ways of fighting those above my realm--it's just that I keep them close abreast and hate wasting them, even when 'wasting' really just means using them properly.
Kind of reminds me of hoarding limited-number items in games, saving them for 'desperate times', only to beat the entire damn thing with the inventory full of them.
"You noticed it too, huh?" Long Tao, once again, nearly gave me a heart attack as he appeared out of nowhere while we'd returned to the outside of our little home here. Others have already gone inside while I stayed out to calm myself a bit.
Seeing as how he spoke, he'd probably taken precautions, so...
"Is there anything in your family's deep treasury that can kill him?"
"Oh?" he arched his brows as he looked at me strangely.
"What?"
"I was beyond convinced you'd have said something like, 'Hey, we're leaving tomorrow, right?'"
"..."
"He gives off a familiar scent," he said.
"What do you mean? Haah, who keeps leaving random trash here? That's the third time today!" there was a random piece of cloth just strewn about at the corner of the house, prompting me to pick it up and toss it off elsewhere. If they're gonna litter, at least don't litter here...
"I mean that he may have found one of my father's ancient stashes," Long Tao smiled faintly. "He took something that was not meant for him, Master." Uh-oh. "Plundered it like a common thief. And now, he dares sit up there and run his filthy, mongrel mouth as though he owns the world? Master."
"... y-yes?"
"This place must burn," I'd seen it before a couple of times, glimpses of a man from before. Right now, he wasn't Long Tao, the slightly apathetic and disinterested youth pursuing immortality--he was an Immortal, one whose pride was carved into his bones. "And the world must hear his screams. Otherwise, my--father's honor cannot be restored."
... why do I suddenly feel kind of bad for that old thing? 'cause whatever happens to him... it's not gonna be pretty.
Grudges (IV)
A faint gasp escaped his lips as he watched chains thicker than towers rip out of the ground and ascend toward the flattened plateau floating midair. It was breathtaking in ways he had never experienced before--a city remaining suspended midair, with massive chains acting as bridges.
There was a steady stream of people climbing up and down, and he joined one of the processions. Strangely, there were no guards or checks anywhere, whether at the bottom of the chains or the top, allowing everyone to enter and exit the city.
As soon as he entered the place, he noticed that something was off; the air, almost, felt palpable with tension, as though the string of a bow was pulled all the way back, just waiting to be loosened.
It seemed as though everybody was stealthily observing him--but not just him, specifically, but more so every newcomer. The streets were inordinately empty, with the usual hustle and bustle of an average city nowhere to be found. None of the shops were open, there was not a single child anywhere that he could see, and a good number of windows were barred with wooden planks.
He frowned, not having expected it.
Everything he heard about the Silvercrest City pointed to a rich, lively city that acted as the first gateway to the further northern reaches of the Split Heavens region. This seemed more like a ghost of a city that once existed than the actual thing itself.
After walking down the central promenade for almost fifteen minutes, he finally came across a shop that was open--a small tea place, no larger than a single-bedroom house.
As he couldn't exactly proceed any further without getting some information about the place, he pulled apart the garlic-made cover over the front doors and entered. Scent of boiling tea leaves permeated every inch of the cluttered space; there were four tables in total, and yet despite that, it felt somewhat claustrophobic with how close they were to each other.
Behind the old, wooden stall was an even older woman who was currently tossing pieces of firewood into the roaring flame, registering him as she stood back up.
"Good day, madame," Yun Qi greeted with a faint smile.
"A double failure, lad," she said. "Neither is it a good day, nor am I a madame. What do you want?"
"Jasmine tea, if you have it."
"Have a seat."
He just barely fit behind one of the tables, feeling it press a bit into his knees, before speaking up again.
"Did something happen? It's my first time here, but based on what I heard about the place..."
"An awful lot of things happened," she said. "If I were you, lad, I'd speedily drink the tea and get the hell out. This ain't no place for a newcomer."
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But he couldn't quite leave--he tracked down yet another Elder that was rumored to have been behind the attack on the Spirit Sword Sect. Not directly, but more so that he oversaw the entire thing.
And, for some reason, that Elder speedily left his sect about a month ago to rush over here. If he missed this opportunity, who knew when he would get the next one?
"I'm rather sturdy, madame."
"Heh. Sturdier have fallen. Our guardian, the sturdiest of them all, was killed by some ghost. Pah. Do whatever you want."
Though he wanted to chat a bit more, he realized based on her expression that she was done talking--so he didn't press. He merely awaited the tea and drank it in silence.
It was about ten minutes into his thinking of the next course of action that the garlic cover parted, and another figure showed up--it was an older man, somewhat hunched and red-faced, and he appeared slightly out of breath.
"What are you doing here, Cao Xun? I already told you that I am not selling!"
"Ah, Madame, please--reconsider." the old man seemed to be placating, but behind those eyes was recognizable venom. Yun Qi remained silent, sipping tea. "Everyone else is selling, and Sect Master has promised--"
"--Sect Master this, Sect Master that!! If he cares so much, how come he's never come to ask?! Why is it always you?!"
"S-Sect Master is busy--"
"I'm busy too! And I already told you, I'm not selling! I don't care what everyone else is doing!"
"Stubborn old woman, do you think we are begging here?!"
"Hah! You may as well be! You damned roaches! Where were you when we were attacked, huh?! While mere kids fought and saved this city, what hole did you hide in, huh?!"
"Y-y-you! How dare you! Don't you know that those children are suspected of having killed the Guardian and conspired with the attackers?!"
"As if! I saw it with my own eyes, you brute! They and that gentle man ran all over the city, saving people while you and your cohort hid like snakes!"
Yun Qi frowned slightly, with the conversation taking an unexpected turn.
"Hah. What can the eyes of an old, crippled woman truly discern?"
"G-get out! Get out of my shop this instant! Get out!!" The old woman had turned wholly red, her spittle flying out at the rate of her growling.
"And if I don't?" the other man said, crossing his arms over his chest. "What will you do?"
"Y-you brute!" Taking the final sip of tea, Yun Qi stood up and walked over.
"I've seen many things in my days," he said. "But a cultivator bullying an old, mortal woman... it might be the first."
"Huh? Who are you? Do you know who I am?"
"Scum," Yun Qi said. "Unrepentant filthy scum."
"--y-you, did you just call me scum? Me?!"
The man seemed just about ready to burst forth and attack, but Yun Qi merely extended his arm and grabbed the man's neck, lifting him off the ground with ease. The latter squirmed, his legs dangling below.
"What else are you? Madame," He ignored the man, turning towards the woman. "You mentioned the kids and the older, gentle man. What did you mean by that?"
"E-eh? Ah, uhm, yes. When, when we were attacked by some strange people in black," she said. "A small group of masked kids ran around the city and rescued locals. They, they became quite famous. And there were also a lot of stories of a handsome man who, despite being weak to violence, put his own well-being to the side and saved hundreds of people! The Kind Phantoms, us locals call them! We don't know what happened to them, unfortunately. One day, they just... disappeared. Not a trace of them to be found."
Just then, Yun Qi felt something--the almost imperceptible change to the Qi of the man he was still hoisting off the ground. He did his best to hide it, but there was no hiding Qi fluctuations from him--not anymore.
He turned to the man and smiled faintly.
"It looks like you and I will have to chat for a bit," he said. "Madame, is there somewhere... private we can go?"
"Uhm, you can use my basement." The old woman seemed to have recovered almost completely, pointing toward the small hatch in the ground.
"Thank you very much," Yun Qi said, fetching a few hundred coins from his spatial ring and tossing them onto the counter. "I'll make sure to keep the place pristine."
The 'basement' was simply a dark, damp room full of empty flour sacks stacked in one corner and random bits and pieces of rotten wood scattered across the rest of it.
Yun Qi flicked his fingers lightly as a sphere of light appeared, giving the entire space some color as he tossed the man he was holding at the empty sacks in the corner. He'd already sealed all his acupuncture points, and the man remained deathly shivering in the corner, his eyes wide and full of terror.
It was a mighty grave reaction, Yun Qi mused, one deeply entrenched in all-devouring guilt; perhaps, in a way, the man wasn't so much running from it as he was waiting for the day it would catch up to him.
Yun Qi stood still and silent for a long while, examining the man's state; his clothes spoke of wealth, and though his cultivation realm wasn't particularly impressive, he would have still been an Elder of high status in the Spirit Sword Sect, at the very least.
He also had an aroma of herbs about him, though it was greatly diluted by the strong scent of alcohol--judging by the fading colors of green and yellow smeared across his fingertips, there was a good chance that the man was an Alchemist, or at least somewhat related to the field.
But none of it mattered--what mattered was the mention of strange kids and a gentle man. Could it be them? Yun Qi wasn't certain.
Even if they did manage to get away, he told Lu Qi to explicitly run east--as far east as he could go. There would be no reason for them to come here, not to mention that they were far too weak to have even crossed the Eternal Range.
... and yet, something stirred in his heart when he heard the description, as Lu Qi--or whoever became him--was inordinately kind.
Yun Qi flicked his fingers yet again and unsealed parts of the man's acupoints, allowing him to finally speak. The latter, though, remained silent and shivering, avoiding eye contact.
"You can talk," Yun Qi said. "Or I can make you talk. It's your choice."
"P-p-please, please d-don't kill me... I, I didn't know... I didn't know! How could I have known?!!"
"Could have known what?"
"T-t-hey were E-Elders of Holy Sects! H-how could I have known they would die?!" Yun Qi frowned momentarily, not sure what the man was talking about.
"Start from the beginning. Who are the children? What do they look like? And who is the old man?"
Thus began the tale that left Yun Qi even more confused than he thought possible.
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From the description of their appearances--rushed and maniacal though it was--they sounded nothing like the people he remembered. Not to mention that there were more of them, and they sounded far stronger than Yun Qi remembered them being.
But there were also bits and pieces that did sound like them--the children, from the description, were extremely protective of their Master, and sounded beholden to his every word. He recalled just how devout those kids were to Lu Qi, more so than Yun Qi's own disciples, whom he had had for centuries.
Then, just as he began suspecting there may have been a chance it was them, the man in the story revealed and shared an ancient Alchemist technique with the Sect Master of the local alchemy sect and saved the Young Lady of the local clan in the process.
Though he admitted that Lu Qi had many fine qualities, both as a man and as a Master, being a secret alchemical prodigy was not one of them.
Not two minutes later, just as he decided it wasn't them, he then listened to how the man ran around selflessly saving people, something as rare as a phoenix feather in the world of cultivation.
... was it them? Was it not them? With each passing bit of information, he grew less and less certain.
"T-they said they just wanted to recruit the kids," the man said, pulling Yun Qi out of his thoughts. "And that they wouldn't harm anyone! I, I really didn't know!"
"Which Holy Lands were involved?"
"I, I don't know! Do you think I dared ask?!"
"Why did you tell them who the masked kids were?" Yun Qi asked, feeling a bit curious.
"... t-they..."
"Hm. Was it worth it? Can whatever wealth they gave you keep the demons at bay?"
"... no," the man said as he began to openly weep. "I, I can't meditate. I can't cultivate. Any time I try to concoct a pill, it turns into sludge. Why? Why?!"
"Because demons are silent assassins few are ever prepared for," he said. "Do you regret it?"
"I do."
"Do you know what happened to the kids and the man?"
"I, I really don't. Bodies of all Holy Lands Elders were there, but the kids and the man were not, and neither was our Guardian. There, there was something else there, some kind of a thing, but not even Sect Master could tell what it was. Maybe, maybe they escaped? A-ah, but, but whatever took our Guardian... no, they could not have escaped. He he he. Nobody could have escaped."
Was it them?
He still couldn't tell. Maybe. Maybe not.
Regardless, though, with no clues as to where they went, it was impossible to confirm either way. If it was them, then it would mean that Lu Qi was still hiding far more things than he revealed. And if it was not... he was merely glad there were others willing to help people.
"Hm. What was your name again?"
"C-Cao Xun..."
"You understand that I must kill you."
"..."
"I am not judging your actions," Yun Qi said. "Though done in self-interest and pursuit of greed, I have done things no better than you, too. But I must kill you. Even if the chance it's them is infinitesimally small, there still is a chance. For that reason, if you truly had harmed them and cost them their lives, you must pay the price of life."
Yun Qi drew out his sword and pressed it against the man's neck, his hand unwavering.
"Do you have any last words?"
"Just," he mumbled softly as he pressed his hands together as though in a prayer. "Don't, don't tell anyone. Please. Let them think I've run away."
"Very well," Yun Qi said. "Let the death silence your demons, and allow your soul its deserved rest."
Yun Qi slashed softly and swiftly, easily cutting off the head--yet, there was no blood, no gore. In fact, there was... nothing. Not even a corpse.
Just the pristine(-ly dirty) basement, the same as he'd found it. He put the sword away, clasped his hands in front of his chest, and bowed, mumbling a farewell prayer.
Perhaps it was unjust killing, but he knew his soul would be shackled by tens of thousands of them in the coming years--the strange, mumbling alchemist would just be another one of his sins, faded and forgotten.