Unseen Cultivator

"The bubonic plague is spread by fleas," Zhou Hua, emphasizing this, held up a small, tightly sealed bottle full of a writhing mass of tiny, biting insects. Qing Liao and Su Yi blanched at that highly evocative collection of living death, a weapon far more terrible than any sword or spear. "It moves through the blood and passes from one creature to the next as the fleas bite and drink. The sect has long tried to contain it," she gave Liao a somber look. The fate of his sisters was well known, and many others had perished in similar outbreaks. "But it lives in the wild, within the blood of many native beasts. Eradication is impossible. Records of its depredations stretch back to the old world. Whole sect territories were besieged by mass illness, with as many as nine in ten lives lost."

"The husbandry pavilion," the pained look laid atop that pretty face deepened significantly as sadness warred with resolve across her expression. "Acquired a supply of fleas from captured rats. These were released in a set of isolated ponds among the now excess remains of the beaver breed stock. Nineteen in twenty perished, and other those who survived more than half were crippled. Even if efficacy is reduced substantially in the wild, this pestilence will surely suffice to serve the needed purpose."

Liao forced his face to stay stony, refusing to wince openly at this declaration. He knew, exactly, what would happen when those tiny biting parasites were let loose among the basin's rodents, in a manner that neither of the women recognized. A century spent in the wild, traveling widely, meant he had walked through many places where the plague ran rampant. Such spaces, often grasslands, were full of death and disease. Their qi trembled from the stress such rapid cycles of growth and death.

The little bottle full of fleas contained a disaster as devastating as any fire or flood, one that could be felt by those possessing the power to feel the world beyond the limits of sight and hearing. Cruel as such recollections were, they also offered a measure of solace. As horrible as the ravages of the bubonic plague might be to witness, the disease was a part of the world. It was, in the wild, unremarkable.

Humans stood apart, granted the privilege to seek immortality and ascension. Everything else went round and round. Disease was simply another end, much like predation. Many, most, of the beavers would die, but some would be spared, and their swiftly churning lives allowed swift recovery of their numbers. The same thing applied, broadly, to all the other small and fuzzy creatures that would be caught up in this induced catastrophe.

It resembled the demon plague only in mechanism, not in result. A small thing, that difference, but when viewed through the lens of qi it offered an absolute division.

"The best time for the release is early autumn," Sayaana, seated on the empty cushion that served as her usual place, interjected. "When the beavers are at their most active while they prepare for the coming winter."

Liao relayed this and found that he agreed. There was no point in waiting any longer. "The horde is growing, but its presence is not yet an impediment." Still spread across the basin and the surrounding mountains, and less than two hundred thousand strong, the ghouls, ogres, and giants remained widely dispersed. Evading them was easy enough for Liao, so long as he remained vigilant. "But it is beginning to impede free access to the gateway."

Snow Feast was not, Liao's personal observations agreed with those of the scouts, especially diligent in monitoring the demons, but he was a wide-ranging hunter who covered considerable ground at high speed. He could appear almost anywhere, and the possibility, though small, that he would spot someone in the vicinity of the gateway could not be discounted.

"I agree," Su Yi acknowledged this limitation. "And so does the elder council. I have received orders that you are to minimize your crossings." Her perfectly pretty face took on a dangerously serious expression. It was as if a painting of a glorious ancestor stared out at them. "As to how this is to be achieved, the decision has been left to me." Her eyes fell to the table where the map, and its many-colored marks, waited.

"I believe," she spoke very quietly. "That the best solution is the simplest. We have sufficient stockpiled fleas to launch the extermination now." A quick glance in the direction of Zhou Hua was met with a sharp nod of confirmation. "And the critical dams are ready and prepared for destruction."

The alchemist nodded a second time. All was in readiness. There would be no changes to the plan.

"Then," Su Yi looked up once more and stared directly into Liao's eyes. "Here is my proposal." Her gaze did not waver, though the qi within her roiled and rolled. She mastered this swiftly, a star flaring and pulsing, but burning strong throughout. "You will leave now and remain in the Ruined Wastes until the plan reaches completion and you unleash the flood come spring. You, as the only person on the scene, will make the decision as to the day and time to strike. There is no real alternative, no one else can view the land or send a message."

Liao almost choked as these words, and the immense responsibility attached to them, settled over his shoulders. In that moment he could not find his voice, the silence alone carried far too much potency. It took everything he had merely to stare back at Su Yi and hold fast desperately as the massive torrent of trust she had sent forth washed over them both.

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He did not fear a winter in the wilderness. Sayaana had prepared him well to meet that challenge. Even with the added difficulty of a horde of demons wandering the basin he was confident in his ability to keep to the slopes and survive. It was the rest, the totality of the plan and the lives attached to it placed into his hands, that he shrank from him.

If the bubonic plague failed. If too many beavers survived. If the winter failed to ravage their dams sufficiently. So many ifs, so many possible failures, and isolated and alone beyond the gateway he would have no way to inform the sect. Should the flood fail to disperse the horde and prevent the coming attack, he realized that he would be unable to return in time to join the fight. Mother's Gift would face the onslaught without him.

"There are many contingencies," Su Yi softened the blow slightly. "And the plan remains useful even if it is only partially successful. Any flood that churns the river significantly will disperse the horde for a time. Months or a year is a minor gain, but it is not nothing."

It was meant to be heartening, this reassurance, but Liao found that his mind caught upon a terrifying possibility linked to the flood. "What if the demonic cultivators stop the flooding? Can Snow Feast freeze the river?"

"I hope he does," Zhou Hua smiled with unexpected wickedness. "Water must still move, and massive blocks of ice are a perfect weapon to bludgeon demons to death."

Liao tried and failed to imagine this, finding only a failure to believe in such possibilities, but he trusted the alchemist and her ability to understand the scenario above the limits of his own fantasies. She had long since proven her mastery of maps and flows through the ongoing effort.

"We can fight and win regardless," Su Yi's grimace did not lesson, but pride swelled within her at this declaration. "The horde that comes is almost certain to be smaller than the last, and even if Snow Feast brings mighty allies." It was widely expected that he would draft support from among those other demonic cultivators who possessed similarly frigid daos. "The sect is stronger than it was then. We can win no matter what comes, but this plan, this flood, will hold the gateway's secret at least a little longer, and that is more valuable than anything. Leaving now, committing entirely to the flood plan, I believe that is the best option. Do you disagree?"

The answer was never in doubt. "No." He felt agreement from Sayaana as well. It was, indeed, the best plan. Otherwise, it would not be the hardest duty to bear. "You are right. It is only that I do not know if I am ready."

"The task itself is simple," Zhou Hua offered helpfully. "Break it into parts. You're capable of all of them, alone. The rest is just repetition."

This invocation from his former lover was welcome, but perhaps less comforting than she realized. Liao knew the steps well enough. Trap and infect the beavers. Wait until the high piled snow began to rush down the endless mountain slopes surrounding the basin. Rush about the edge of the watershed and shatter the five key dams from below. Nothing complicated, but the steps were many, and in that truth lay the potential for failure.

He would be alone in the Ruined Wastes. Should he falter, there would be no one to help him. Even the least failure could not be tolerated.

Su Yi looked away briefly, and when her eyes returned to his own, they were soft. "It will be difficult," she granted. "More than should be asked of anyone, even an immortal, but it is there regardless. Tell me, would returning to the sect in midwinter offer any benefits?"

These words opened his eyes wide, cutting through emotions with harsh practicality as they did. "It would not." He admitted slowly. The only thing of value he could possibly offer the sect from outside was a warning. Information, he recognized immediately following that realization, that could be provided without taking such risks. "But while returning lacks value, a means to leave messages is critical. If the fleas fail to kill the beavers, the sect needs to know."

"A monthly report is appropriate," Zhou Hua augmented this thought, her sharp mind quickly taking the concept further. "That way, if there is a missed report, we will know you have perished or been rendered incapacitated." At the sour looks this invoked she stood firm. "It is a demon horde, and multiple demonic cultivators are almost certain. Even a random occurrence could be the end."

"Carve reports onto a rock and drop it into a pond," Su Yi decided swiftly. "Here," she pointed to a space on the map within the reach of the scouts. "Use the Chulmyk tongue. No one knows it save for me and Sayaana. That should suffice as a code."

This drew a smile from the remnant soul. "Lucky. I should claim foresight, but I think credit goes to the cold blue sister instead."

Liao found himself grinning in response, a rare bright spot in an otherwise grim moment. It was revealing to glance into the deeper layers of Itinay's plans, something that had borne fruit only after over a century. To the grand elder, even friendships were something to be manipulated for greater goals. A valuable skill, he supposed, even as he was glad it was not one he possessed. "How soon should I depart?" he questioned. He did not, personally, require any special supplies, but there might be other matters he'd overlooked.

"The day after tomorrow," Zhou Hua suggested. "Everything necessary to spread the bubonic plague will be prepared by then. It will be best to leave at night. There will be no moon."

"Agreed," Su Yi hewed to this simple and practical proposition. "And a day to rest and provision is wise. Make certain you have all the tools you need."

Zhou Hua took the opportunity these words provided and stood to depart. "I will meet you prior to leave-taking," she offered without sentiment of any kind.

Liao, watching her go, recognized that their relationship, such as it had been, had fully run its course. It brought no sorrow, that confirmation, only a strange sense of disappointment.

This moment of melancholy did not pass unnoticed. "Do not expect to find true love hiding in the first set of arms that wraps about your own," Su Yi clapped him on the shoulder. "Or at all. Romance, passion, these things are aspects of the dao, truly, but as cultivators they are not, generally, part of our dao. Perhaps that is a failing of the sect, perhaps not. Only the Celestial Mother knows the truth."

"Thank you," the support was appreciated, it dissipated hollow feeling rapidly. Su Yi's regard, her trust in his abilities, that was something Liao would be glad to carry forward into the wilderness over the winter. A reminder of home, and the reason he must take death in hand and wield one pestilence against another.

He hoped it would be enough.