Kind Young Master [Progression Fantasy - Cultivation]

A bead of blood ran down the length of the dao, stubbornly refusing to fall. Its tip was painted red to a depth of four fingers, and he thought the way the sect leader had torn it out of the other cultivator's back had done more damage than the initial wound. Xin Zi, no longer held down by the spiritual pressure of his superior, was forcing himself to rise in a sheer act of will. A part of Fushuai wanted to help him. He could not say why. The man had taken advantage of his position, threatened them, and then turned what could have been a respectful challenge into a death match. Worse, he had thrown his honor to the wind by calling on his fellow disciples to interfere with their duel.

Sometimes, killing could not be avoided. This match would have been such a case, had the Sect Leader not appeared. Lao was still young, and Fushuai hoped that he could be taught to see the world differently. But was there anything to be done about a man such as Xin Zi? If you beat a serpent into submission, it would not stop being a serpent afterward. He had made a lifelong enemy this day.

"Take this." The clerk was in front of him, pressing a slip of parchment into the same hand that held the emblem. "It is your right of passage, sealed by the words of our master." His voice dropped. "I don't know who you are, but I suggest you leave soon. Right or no right, there are many in Emerald Bastion who will not look well on what happened here."

"A thousand thanks," Fushuai said, and meant it. Perhaps he should think of a better phrase to use when he was truly grateful, instead of only being reflexively polite. But the clerk had saved all of their lives by bringing Huashe there. "I would know your name, so that I may repay you for the honor you showed us this day."

He was no older than Ao Lao. His hair cropped short, fresh-faced, but serious. "Deng She Tong," he said. "I was only doing my duty. The best thanks you can give me is that I never see you again."

Fushuai inclined his head. "I will remember it."

Xin Zi said nothing as he was helped from the arena, blood still pouring from the open wound in his back, drenching his fine robes.

"Are you having a moment of divine insight, or can we leave already?" Zhang Sha called from the edge of the square. He held his knife loosely at his side, and his other hand was clamped on Ao Lao's shoulder like a vice. Lin was half-hidden behind the flank of a silver fox. Though they were no longer surrounded, Bai Tu was ready to leap to her defense the moment a threat appeared.

"We can go."

The way opened ahead of them as they passed through an alley to the main street. The Sect Leader's words hung around them like an invisible wheel of fire no one dared approach. Had they elected to remain within the walls for the night, then undoubtedly, someone would have found the courage to attack them anyway. As it was, they returned without incident to the same stairs they had descended not long before. She Zu did not speak to them as they climbed, instead watching with his arms crossed, stepping aside at the last moment to allow them to drop over the wall.

"That went far better than I expected," Zhang Sha said as they followed the path down from the bluff. "The most likely outcome was that we were all killed or taken hostage."

"You're all mad," Lao muttered, rubbing his shoulder. "Tempting death like that."

There were at least a thousand steps ahead of them before they reached the base of the bluff and could make their way into the ruins it overlooked. At least the sun was now on the other side of the formation, drenching them in shade. Fushuai had returned the dao to his ring along with the script paper. It contained the terms of their freedom in the area. Two nights and two days after this one ended, the words of the Sect Leader would no longer shield them. The emblem was still gripped tightly in his palm.

"Brother," Lin asked, her hands tucked in opposite sleeves as her eyes flicked to the wooden circle. "What did that elder see?"

He wished he knew. A simple binding was no reason for a core cultivator to fear a sect he did not know. The inscription had to have meaning, perhaps a sign only known to those who had lived long enough to rise. "There's a signature hidden in the wood, but I don't recognize it."

"Worthy of study," Zhang Sha said, "I'm sure. But not until we're out of bowshot."

They walked to the edge of the buried city without knowing where it ended or began. Rather than high walls, proud towers, and gates, there were ridges in the pale, sun-hardened earth that might have once been structures. What stone there was had long been bleached, and the only sure indication of the ruins were in the sections of the land that had been hacked open to reveal passages leading to the dead metropolis below.

This was what had once been Emerald City. As far as Fushuai knew, it was the last resting place of the author of the Path of the Legacy of the Void, Xie Gui. He knew nothing of the man other than that he had been the first to pen the techniques now inscribed in his dantian. Xiao Sheng said that the elder had traveled here before its fall. A connection between those events had seemed implied, but that wasn't something he could really know unless he came across a historian.

With an eye to the city atop the bluff, they made their way to the largest opening in the earth. A tiered shaft, it went down fifty feet or so before cutting into a tunnel. One side seemed to be natural rock and stone, and the other three a mix of ancient mortar and brick, larger, smooth sandstone blocks, and some sections of qi-treated wood. Hopping down to the first tier, a platform fashioned far more recently, was enough to get them out of direct line of sight of whoever might have been watching them from atop the bluff.

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"We deserve a meal." Zhang Sha materialized already cooked strips of beast flesh to hand out, which the companions accepted with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Lin thanked him, stiff but polite, while Lao demanded more, and Bai Tu was caught between his instinctive dislike of the hollow-eyed cultivator and his desire for smoked lizard. Eventually, hunger won out.

Fushuai declined the proffered food and knelt to examine their emblem.

"It wasn't there before." Zhang Sha tore off a hunk of jerky with his teeth. "I'm sure of it."

"Perhaps the Sect Leader awakened it with his inspection."

"Maybe. But when was the last time you really looked at it? The mark is subtle. I wouldn't have noticed its presence from casual handling."

"True. I barely looked at it while we traveled."

A nod, and slow chewing. "Then the change could have come any time over the last few months."

He extended a Thread of Still Night to connect with the hidden formation, hoping to tease out a better understanding of its structure. As soon as he did so, it drew upon his energy with such sudden hunger that he snapped the connection on reflex. The slash marks on the surface of the wood had taken on a ghostly sheen.

Ah. There you are, my good pupil. I knew you would figure it out.

Fushuai, who had figured out nothing, blinked in surprise as he heard his master's voice once again. It was inside his head, and somewhat muffled, as if he were speaking through a cloth.

Zhang Sha leaned in. "Hah, give it more. That's-"

"My master is speaking." Fushuai cut him off. A statement that was met with raised eyebrows.

Yes, I am, and I cannot hear whoever you are talking to anymore than they can hear me. There are more rules and regulations in this realm than you can imagine. Am I supposed to be a god or a clerk? Even the Silver Empire wasn't this bad. Did I ever tell you about the Grand Secretary who demanded that everyone who entered the court had to first submit a request in writing to the Three Excellencies in order of their date of birth?

"No, Master, you did not. But first, can you tell me where you are? What happened to you?"

It's a good story, but you are right. Another time. There are limits to how much I can inform you about the heavens. That is where I am now, tucked away in the lower courts and forced to endure an ocean of paperwork. Immortal Ascendant Xiao Sheng. It is everything I feared it would be and worse.

"That's wonderful news." The fact that his master had ascended meant killing the Golden Emperor could not have been an act of dishonor. It must have been Wang Yinjing who offended the heavens, and Xiao Sheng had been trusted with the task of carrying out the judgment of the gods before becoming one himself.

Is it? The celestial voice took on a hint of surprise.

"I regret that I did not have more time to learn from you while you remained in the Earthly Realm. But we are at the entrance of the ruins of Emerald City now, and we go in search of the manual you left behind. How could I meet the news of my master's ascension with anything other than celebration?"

Fushuai. You...No. There are things you must know that I may not have another opportunity to tell you. I planned on meeting you again before all this happened. Now, we will have to make do. You will find the manual behind a veil of sword aura. The emblem you are holding now will allow whoever holds it to pass through that veil. It carries a divine mark of no particular attribution, as my new position has not yet been added to the Empire's roster of deities. Cultivators below core formation are unlikely to recognize it for what it is.

Now, there are other goods along with the manual that may help you on your journey. Take everything you find. There is no one else to save it for. As for the rest of the ruins, I leave it to you whether or not to explore them, but it will have long been picked clean of anything of true value someone at your level could win for themselves.

Is my name now a curse in the Empire?"

The question caught him off guard. "A thousand apologies...yes."

Good. I wouldn't want you relying on my name to get by. You've reached foundation, I see. What are your plans for the future?

"To advance. To grow in understanding of my path." He glanced up to where Lin was now watching him with widened eyes. "To help others grow as well. We are...well. I have taken a disciple in the name of our burgeoning sect, and used your emblem as its sign."

Lao got to his feet. "Who is he talking to? Is that the real sect leader? I want him to know how I've been treated." Then Zhang Sha appeared behind him to cover his mouth. He squirmed for a moment and went still, leveling a sullen gaze on Fushuai. Is that all?

He let out a breath. Had his master not heard him say he was starting a sect? "I'm not certain."

You have no higher aim? I admit, we did not much discuss what you meant when you said the purpose of cultivation was to end suffering, but I did not expect you to forget your ideals so quickly.

"I have not forgotten." Fushuai hung his head. "I want to help the people of the empire live easier lives. I want to change the jianghu. I want to show the world that power and cruelty do not need to be uttered as if they were the same word. But I don't know how to do any of that. I don't know how to change anything in a way that will last, even if I were strong enough to make the strong listen. I don't even know what a land without suffering would look like. What I said to you now seems to me less like wisdom than the empty dreams of a child."

Had his encounter with the demon Yanjin affected him this much? It was more than that. Words were easy. Even an ox might doubt the choices of the man who held its reins, but what would that animal accomplish were it given freedom? It was a simple enough thing to criticize law and tradition. He had not been there when it was written. How could he claim to be wiser than an emperor or an immortal?

The dreams of children are not empty, and forgetting those dreams is a sin far worse than failing to achieve them. Your Path is something you will have to discover for yourself, however. I intended to wait to tell you this, but now I fear I may not have another chance. When the Celestial Wheel turns, a calamity will follow. It is not something either of us can prevent. But that event is only a foreshadowing. It is easier to show you than to explain.

"To show?"

The world dissolved, and Fushuai saw through his master's eyes. A sky without stars. A silence so vast it crushed breath and thought alike. At the edge of all things, he saw a dragon curled, blacker than mourning, older than light. Its wings blotted out constellations; its voice turned hope to ash. Where its shadow fell, mountains would weep and oceans would forget their names. In the violet storms of its eyes swam the promise of all promises broken, of all prayers left unanswered.

Who had called this thing? Why?

They looked back.Above the world, the Celestial Wheel turned with the screams of tortured metal. It was bound in chains as thick as cliffs, forged of divine law and bound by the will of heaven's unseen ruler. In that tormented stillness, Fushuai understood: it was not earth that had failed, nor the hells that had rebelled. It was the heavens that had sinned. Their grip upon fate had grown too tight, and in seeking to preserve order, they had summoned the end.