A Song For The Ages

The wind howled gently as the skyships cut through the air in a majestic formation, one at the front, two behind on either side, and the last one, the largest, trailing in the rear. This trailing ship carried the support forces: beast tamers, formation masters, and the few alchemists chosen for this mission. For two days, they soared high above a sea of undulating clouds, casting soft shadows on the lush forests and winding rivers below.

The skies had remained overcast throughout their journey, pale gray clouds brushing against the keel as if curious about their passage. Occasionally, golden shafts of sunlight would pierce through, lighting up the vast lands below in sprawling rays. Birds soared beneath them, weaving through the cloud layers, and distant mountain ranges rolled like waves on the horizon.

Feiyin stood near the side railing of the ship, his gaze fixed not only on the distant horizon, but on the blurred thoughts running beneath the surface of his composed demeanor. The cool breeze teased at his long black hair, tied neatly with a silver-threaded hairpin given to him by Yuli. She had given it to him as part of their 'uniform', and Lirael approved since his 'handsome' face was more apparent. It became her quiet gift to him, and he wore it daily.

Baiyu, coiled comfortably around his shoulders and waist, nuzzled his cheek gently, her crystalline white scales catching the sunlight and casting prismatic reflections.

Her presence, grounding and steady, helped keep his darker thoughts at bay.

The cool breeze kissed his face while Baiyu, coiled comfortably around his shoulders and waist, remained still while appreciating his warmth. The world stretched wide before them, and yet Feiyin's thoughts remained fixed on the plans forming in his mind.

During those two days, Feiyin took time to interact with the disciples aboard. His gentle nature and calm demeanor won over many. He spoke with beast tamers about their training methods, exchanged thoughts with formation masters about sigil usage, and humbly discussed pills and theory with the other alchemists. His knowledge, paired with his down-to-earth behavior, left a favorable impression.

Their destination was the Warring States region, a fractured territory teeming with rival factions and scattered martial clans. Rumors of spiritual ore veins, abundant essence lakes, and ancient ruins filled every tale Feiyin heard. Despite the picturesque allure, the region was plagued with bloodshed and ambition.

It was on the second morning, as clouds gave way to the rising sun, that the blonde inner disciple approached him. Her golden hair shimmered beneath the gentle light, and her stride was purposeful, carrying the easy confidence of someone who knew she belonged in command. Her black silken robes bore the intricate embroidery of the Beast Taming Branch, but it was the gentle sway of her hips and the sharpness in her eyes that told Feiyin she wasn't to be underestimated.

"Essence Alchemist... and a Tier 2 companion beast," she said, curiosity evident in her melodic voice. Her striking blue eyes dropped to Baiyu, who uncoiled slightly and raised her head to meet the woman's gaze, a soft hiss emanating from her throat.

Feiyin smiled politely. "Cai Feiyin, from the Saint Alchemy Branch. This is Baiyu. She's been with me for as long as I can remember."

"Baiyu," the woman repeated softly, tilting her head. "She's beautiful, and powerful. I'm surprised. Alchemists aren't exactly known for walking around with beasts of this level."

"She chose me," Feiyin said simply, a smile on his face. "I'm no tamer. I guide pills and metals, not creatures. But she walks, no, she slithers with me by her own will."

"You're full of surprises," the woman said with a smile. "I'm Jue Qingling, Inner Disciple of the Beast Taming Branch."

He inclined his head slightly. "A pleasure."

Jue Qingling leaned casually against the railing, eyes lingering on Baiyu before turning back to Feiyin. "You're not like the others. Most alchemists came along reluctantly. Yet here you are, calm, even curious. Why is that?"

Feiyin chuckled softly. "It's never a bad idea to gain experience in the world... and maybe get to know some of the people who make up its future."

She arched a brow, amused. "You sound like someone who knows how to plan."

"Planning is part of crafting," he replied. "Whether pills, blades, or relationships."

She laughed, the sound light and clear, then sighed and glanced off into the distance. "Still, I don't trust many from the other branches. Too many interests, too many games."

"Then let's just say I'm happy to leave a good impression, for now," Feiyin said, eyes sparkling with humor.

"Hm. Well, you've succeeded so far."

They chatted for a while longer, their words light, unburdened by the heavier intentions each silently held. When she left, Baiyu gently booped Feiyin's cheek with her snout, as if to ask, "Was that necessary?"

He smiled. "It never hurts to keep powerful allies... even if it's just a first good impression."

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Later that day, the skyships began their descent, the fleet adjusting in tight formation as if choreographed by a masterful hand. From the rear ship, Feiyin gazed ahead through thinning clouds. Mountains loomed into view, sharp ridgelines cutting into the horizon like teeth, their peaks dusted with mist and crowned by drifting seabirds. At their feet, the sea spread wide and glistening, its turquoise waters crashing into sheer cliffs and narrow beaches.

And nestled within the protective arc of these natural defenses was their target, White Sand City. It sprawled across a natural plateau that dipped gently toward the sea, its walls built from pale stone that gleamed like bone in the fading sunlight. Watchtowers stood vigil, and defensive garrisons could be seen patrolling along the ramparts, their movements methodical, unaware of the storm descending upon them.

This city had been chosen not just for conquest, but to spread a message. Its coastal position made it a hub of merchant activity, where news traveled fast, carried by ships and tongues alike.

Its wealth, gathered from inland trade and sea routes, offered resources for occupation and expansion. The terrain was ideal, protected by a natural mountain barrier to the north and open seas to the south, it provided both defensibility and a swift escape route should it be needed. A perfect staging ground for their fledgling mercenary banner: the Red Lotus.

As the ships landed on the rocky plateau overlooking the shimmering coast, disciples disembarked with quiet discipline. The wind carried a salty tang from the sea below, mixing with the more ominous scent of preparation and anticipation. New robes were handed out, sleek black with a vivid red lotus stitched over the heart. They were now the Red Lotus Mercenaries.

Feiyin held the robe in his hands for a moment before slipping it on. The fabric was smooth, reinforced with inner layers of protective thread and faintly infused with essence.

The assault was brutal in its efficiency.

Under precise commands from the inner disciples, squads of cultivators descended upon White Sand City like vultures. The air was heavy with the scent of strife and blood, echoing with bursts of essence techniques and the panicked cries of untrained guards.

The assault was swift and merciless. White Sand City, though fortified with high pale walls and sturdy gates, was woefully unprepared for a full-force cultivator assault. Under the command of the inner disciples, the cultivator squads stormed the gates.

At the front of the assault, Ba Shanyue from the Saint Body Branch stepped forward, his thick arms weaving a series of hand seals with practiced discipline. With a thunderous roar, he slammed his palms against the ground, and the earth responded. A series of thick jagged stone spikes erupted from the soil, tearing forward in a controlled wave. The force shattered the defensive formation laid at the city's gate, sigils and inscriptions scattering like dried leaves, as the spiked wave crushed its foundations.

The impact sent shockwaves echoing through the walls. Screams followed as several guards were impaled outright, while others were thrown back by the force, broken and bleeding. The gates, meant to stand firm against even siege weaponry, groaned and then collapsed inward under the pressure, trampled by the following wave of disciples who surged in with blades drawn and techniques blazing.

Guards who resisted were cut down with brutal efficiency, unable to withstand the coordinated attacks. The streets quickly turned red, and the overwhelming power of well-trained cultivators proved too much for the meager city defenses to hold.

The city's leadership, the City Head, his advisors, and council members, were dragged from their halls like chained livestock, wrists bound in glowing manacles that restrained Essence Qi. The disciples from the Saint Blood Branch, led by Ruan Lianhua herself, had taken charge of this grim task, their precision and dispassionate demeanor chilling to witness. The condemned were marched through the city under the eyes of a cowed populace, their proud robes torn and muddied, their faces pale with dread.

At the southern gate, beneath the fluttering shadow of the Red Lotus banner, a rough stone platform had been erected. Blood stains from previous executions were still drying in the warm breeze, mixing the metallic scent with the salt carried in from the coast. The prisoners were forced to kneel in a line, heads bowed not in surrender but in the hollow anticipation of death.

One by one, with the efficiency of butchers, the executioners stepped forward. Gleaming blades shimmered in the fading light as they rose and fell. Heads dropped like fruit from a tree, bouncing and rolling, leaving red trails across the white stone. Crimson arcs painted the platform and sprayed across the black robes of the executioners, while the banner above fluttered, untouched and vibrant.

From the nearby alleys, screams rang out, sharp and fractured, as terrified civilians were herded by Saint Blood disciples with whips. Others were locked inside their homes, wooden bars slammed into place, sealing them away from the carnage.

It was swift. It was cold. And it was unforgettable.

Feiyin stood at the rear with the other support disciples, his black robe edged with crimson fluttering in the salty breeze. Baiyu lay beside him in a loose coil, her head raised and alert. Though far from the front lines, Feiyin's oscillation sense could feel it all, the cries of wounded guards, the echoing sobs of families, the dimming life forces of those caught in the chaos.

He felt each vibration in the air, each tremble of dread, like drops of dye sinking into clear water.

"Is this what strength means?" he murmured, voice tight. The words clung to his throat like ash.

There was no theory here, no elegant refinement of ingredients, no brilliant fusion of creation. This was destruction, pure and unrelenting. This was what the strong did to the weak.

From his position, he watched as some merchants whispered behind trembling hands, holding communication jades. The Red Lotus Mercenaries had arrived. They had taken White Sand City.

He closed his eyes, and in the flickering shadow of the flames rising from the burning corpses, through his oscillation sense, he felt the dread clinging to the air like thick mist, fear, despair, hopelessness, from hundreds, perhaps thousands. It overwhelmed the subtle threads of vitality he was so attuned to as an alchemist. This wasn't energy, this was anguish.

He clenched his fists. The helplessness choked him. He had strength, progress, knowledge, yet all of it wasn't enough. Not yet. He still had to watch. Still had to wait.

He remembered his father's words, the quiet ones spoken with regret under the stars "If you try to save everyone, you'll save no one. Keep your strength for those who matter."

Feiyin let out a breath, slow and heavy.

He thought of Yue's gentle laughter, Ren's stubborn grit, Mu's steady support, Hui's fleeting warmth, Baiyu's quiet companionship, and the camaraderie they had nurtured within the Runeweaver Circle, each one a light he swore to protect.

They mattered.