Kind Young Master [Progression Fantasy - Cultivation]

63: Emerald Bastion



60th Mortal Wheel under the Eye of the White Tiger, Darkriver Boar Year, Dragon Month, First Decan Geng

(Early March)

"If you had told me we were going to Emerald Bastion," Ao Lao said, "I might have been more willing."

Zhang Sha patted him on the back. "Eagerness would not have made you easier to trust."

Emerald Bastion was a fortress situated atop a bluff, overlooking the great ruin beneath. The Green Adder Sect claimed it as their own, along with controlling access to the ruins.

"You could have told me, and I would have been glad to come for my share. The dead city is full of prizes. Everyone knows that. And going in together will be easier than if I had gone alone."

"And if we found valuable relics?" Fushuai asked. "Would you have tried to take them from us, as you took them from your previous sect?"

"Of course not. I am a loyal member of Devouring Death, Hall Master. My life is yours."

Once he had begun talking, Ao Lao proved to be a font of information about the region. The Green Adder Sect was small compared to Steel Ribbon, but they were strong enough to build and hold a stronghold. Their leader was a core stage cultivator, Huashe Tianzu. Any who entered the dead city in search of treasure would not leave freely unless they paid a tithe to the sect.

The ruins were said to be home to lethal formations, wandering ghosts, and ancient traps. Danger and opportunity in equal measure. For Fushuai and for the newborn Devouring Death Sect, entering the Bastion and asking for a favor was a serious risk. The chance of discovery was great, and Zhang Sha's illusions would have brought more suspicion than they alleviated.

No mortal would see through a guise he crafted, and many cultivators would be fooled as well, but any at or above his stage would at least know that false faces were being worn, even if they could not see the truth beneath. Whether or not their connection to the Living Blade, now an outlaw under Heaven, would be exposed rested on how quickly word had spread from Ashen City. Were the Ash Eaters more eager to see him caught for the empire's justice or for personal glory? They could have spread word of his existence far and wide, or kept it to themselves.

If no one knew to look for Xiao Sheng's disciple, then no one would. He didn't think the name Fushuai would have been spoken in this region, even if they were still looking for him, but that was not a certainty to rest your sword on. If word had spread, their party had not changed enough since leaving Ashen City to bring comfort. Bai Tu and his gu-en would stand out as marks of identity. In that respect, Ao Lao did not know who they were, or even their true names. When they addressed each other, Lin was Long Min. Zhang Sha was Disciple Kong. And Fushuai was Hall Master Shu.

Pretending to be members of a sect no one had ever heard of would certainly draw attention. It would also serve as a distraction. Wandering cultivators sometimes claimed false connections to great families and societies to avoid being hassled by local powers. When found out, the punishment was severe. But it was a punishment handed down by the sects they had offended, not the people they had lied to. The protection of a fictional sect was dubious at best, though it might still give the locals pause.

Perhaps it wasn't fictional. After all, what was a sect other than a group of cultivators who agreed they were a sect?

They climbed the steps to Emerald Bastion like pilgrims bringing offerings to a shrine.

"You'll need a gift," Ao Lao said. "You must have had something other than what you stole from me to give. If you hand over my treasures, be warned, there will be blood. Poison or no poison."

"I don't think it would be wise of us to trade anything taken from the Steel Ribbon Sect," Fushuai said. "We'll have to make do with what we've collected along the way."

They had been traveling for nearly two months. They could have made the journey in better time, but daily training, meditation, and energy arts had slowed them. Lin was making real progress, both in martial skills and cultivation. With Fushuai's help, she was very near to developing a new technique of her own, a version of Ten Cups Blessing that would make a menacing weapon out of even a small amount of water.

Why it was taking so long, he wasn't sure. His sister was talented, determined, and clever. And yet she struggled to make progress. It had to be that she lacked the great teachers he had been blessed with.

Regardless, she was also steadily making her way toward meridian expansion. With a few restorative pills, she would have reached it weeks ago. Without them, she would likely still finish the step within the month.

Ao Lao was still in the qi compression step. He had so far refused to even attempt Fushuai's braiding method, declaring that it did not suit his style. He had, however, willingly taken to the Void Hammer's Swing, and he practiced it every evening before they rested.

"I'm sure they will be reasonable," Lin said. "Who would pay fortunes to risk their lives for uncertain reward?"

"Ha." Zhang Sha said. "Ha."

They didn't have much to offer apart from beast cores. One from another Bloodiron Crab, and two from Earthblight lizards. Zhang Sha had claimed one core for himself, and the seeds they harvested went to Lin and Ao Lao to aid in their development. So those three were what remained.

Bai Tu trotted behind them. He was nearly the size of a pony now. Rather than requiring seeds or cores, he had been served very well by feasting on the raw flesh of every spirit beast they'd encountered as they traveled through the wastes.

The fortress was surrounded by a high sandstone wall without a gate. It extended nearly to the edge of the bluff, with only a small shelf of stone acting as a platform. When they ascended the final step, a man in green-enameled armor dropped down from the wall and landed lightly on his toes.

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"You have entered the realm of the Green Adder Sect," he said. "Declare yourselves,"

They gave him their false names, and he swept them with his spiritual sense. Fushuai's staff was hidden in his storage ring, so the only visible weapons they carried were Lin's dagger and Zhang Sha's bow.

"Where did you come from?" the man demanded.

"Far to the south," Fushuai answered. "A city on the coast. Lost Shallows."

There was such a place, though he had never been there. It was far enough away and of little enough consequence that they had all agreed it was safe to claim it as an origin.

"My name is She Zu," the man said. "In times like these, strangers are not welcome. You will not pass these walls without my permission."

"We don't need to pass the walls," Ao Lao said. "We want approval to enter the ruins. We are great hunters—"

"Bite your tongue," Zhang Sha said. "You are not given permission to speak."

Ao Lao glared at him and crossed his arms, but made no further protest.

The armored man raised an eyebrow. "Four cultivators," he said. "Who owns your allegiance?"

"The heavens, the Empire, and our sect leader," Fushuai said smoothly. "Elder Zhou Jun, who remains in Lost Shallows. He sent us here to search the ruins."

"Do you have a sign?"

He produced their sect emblem, a little circle of carved wood, and handed it over. The man examined it.

"This isn't a symbol I recognize," he said. "You may as well have claimed no sect at all."

"It's true we are of no great renown. But allegiance is owed where allegiance is due."

She Zu nodded at that and handed back the emblem.

"So what's it called, then?"

"We are members of the Devouring Death Sect."

"Oh." He grinned. "I can respect any elder who puts his aspirations in a name. I'm surprised you haven't been squashed out for temerity alone."

"We have been fortunate," Fushuai agreed.

"If you are who you say, all is well and good. And if you're not…" She Zu shrugged, his expression guarded. "It doesn't matter much to me. But I'll need more than words to credit what you say."

"Perhaps," Fushuai said, "we could give you something of ours to hold. As insurance against our good behavior."

The man held out his hand, and Fushuai dropped a sack of coins into his open palm.

She Zu hefted the weight, listening to the clink within, then made the bag vanish. Ao Lao stiffened. Blood flushed hot to his face. One hand twitched as if to retrieve the already vanished purse, but that was all.

"Three days," She Zu said. "Unless the sect leader gives you further permission. You're to be out of the walls by then." A wax-coated tablet appeared in his palm, and he scratched in the date before applying a seal.

"We thank you for your understanding," Fushuai said, accepting the token.

The man snorted. Then, with a stomp, he leapt fifty feet back to the top of the wall.

"But where is the entrance?" Lin asked quietly, her brows drawing together.

Zhang Sha eyed the barrier. "I imagine that permission does not extend to us making a hole in this wall."

"If you can't make it at a run," Fushuai told his sister, "then I will carry you over."

"I can make it," Lin said.

She stepped to the edge of the bluff, her face set with determination, then cycled energy into a qinggong technique and burst into a sprint. She made it three-quarters of the way up the sheer sandstone surface before she slipped, her hand stretching for a lip that was body lengths away. She slid down, embarrassed, and brushed the dust from her robes.

"Pathetic," Ao Lao snapped. "This is how it's done."

He only made it halfway up, and his descent was not nearly as graceful. Bristling, he turned his back on them and didn't say another word.

She Zu was observing. "If they can't make the climb, you can leave the children outside with a parasol for shade. Don't worry, I'll watch them."

"There is no shame in failing," Fushuai told her, "only in giving up."

It took her two more attempts. On the third run, she used a whip of water to grasp the top of the wall and help pull herself up. When Bai Tu saw she was gone, he followed her, ascending at a pace that would have been a quick dash across flat ground.

Zhang Sha took it in a single jump, just as She Zu had done, but Fushuai remained behind to address the prospective disciple.

"I know you do not want to be carried."

The young man attempted a dismissive snort, but came across as petulant. He tried again. Failed. Then stomped and paced, muttering curses to himself.

"You have a five-petal root," Fushuai said. "Can you not ask the stone for aid?"

"I should be able to do it with my body alone."

"Should or should not. Can or cannot. These are two very different things."

The answer came quick and sharp. "Don't speak to me as if you are some wise elder. You are my senior only in name."

"Really? Well, if this is how you spoke to your senior brothers and sisters in the Steel Ribbon Sect, I am not surprised they did not recognize your genius." Fushuai took the younger cultivator's arm, and he froze, expecting punishment. Words like that would have earned him a beating, if not worse, from seniors and masters alike. Fushuai's grip was light, commanding only his attention.

"If you've decided that you cannot finish this test with a qi technique, and must rely on body advancement alone, then that is your choice. I'll stay here as long as you need. As long as it takes, and help you however I can. Brother Kong can get the information we need from the city and make our offering to the sect elder for me."

Ao Lao did not meet his eyes. "Why would you do that?"

"We all measure success in our own way. And I see the success of any member of our sect as a boon to the whole. We rise together and fall together. That is the way."

"You know," Ao Lao said, "when you first told me about Devouring Death, I thought it couldn't be real. I didn't know why anyone would pretend something so crazy. But now I'm sure. You've never been in a real sect, have you?"

"My master took me in," Fushuai said. "And everything after was my own choice. If Devouring Death is different from others, all the better. But you're right, it's the only sect I've ever known. Now, let me see you try again. I may be able to give you some advice."

After his third attempt, Ao Lao's landing was a little smoother, but he had reached no higher on the wall.

"Your method is not bad," Fushuai said. "But it could use refinement. You cycle everything to your feet because you know that's what you'll use to run. But the lightness technique, like most techniques, requires balance. Distribute your energy evenly throughout your body. The slightest imbalance will bring another fall."

It was not, strictly speaking, true that energy needed to be evenly distributed in qinggong. He often took advantage of imbalances by shifting more to the feet, the hands, or the center, and combining it with techniques like Moonstep. But one needed to master the basics before experimenting.

Ao Lao spent several minutes in concentration. He did not attempt the run until Fushuai was satisfied that his energy was distributed evenly and cycling smoothly. Finally, he tried again. And made it to the top.

Fushuai was the last to ascend.

"You did well," Lin said. "I almost want to go once more without the water."

"Of course I did," Ao Lao smirked. "It takes talent to learn so quickly."

"I said you were free to pass." She Zu's hand swished as if he were swatting a fly. "Not to spend all day waiting around atop the wall."

"A thousand apologies," Fushuai said. "Can you direct us?"

The guard gestured casually toward the massive pagoda at the center of the fortress.

"Tell them you want a token to enter the ruins. Whether or not they give it to you…" He shrugged. "Is written elsewhere."

The inside of the wall had steps leading down, and they took them, emerging into the city proper. People were going about their business in the streets, mortals as well as cultivators. This wasn't just a sect compound. It was a thriving community. And unlike the rest of the region, the ground here, where it wasn't paved with cobbled streets or sandstone structures, was green. Grass, trees, and flowers grew, the first real proof of spring they had seen since leaving Coughing Valley.

"You there!" A voice rose from the murmur of the crowds. "Stop!"


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