Chapter 73

  The Tales Woven (III)

  Six bodies lay sprawled across the floor, discarded like used tissues, life within them snuffed. At the same time, a young-seeming man was putting on crimson dragon robes with the help of a young girl; she was shaking and whimpering, her hands just barely holding on to the silk as she carefully pulled the Master's arms through the sleeves.

  "You've made a mess of things again," an aged voice broke the heavy silence as the void itself tore open just to the side of the bed, with a well-dressed and groomed middle-aged man stepping through casually, hands behind his back. "Get out." He flicked his finger, causing the young woman to abruptly fly sideways and out of the room, tumbling on the hardened carpet outside just as the doors to the bedroom closed.

  The young man frowned and glared silently at the old one for a moment, finishing dressing himself on his own.

  "These impromptu visits are getting old," he complained.

  "And my patience is wearing thin," the other responded in kind, flicking his fingers yet again, his azure-blue eyes shining in a strange glint. A moment later, the six corpses faded as though they were never there, leaving behind only a fading scent of a chrysanthemum. "Where is the girl?"

  "I told you I will deliver her to you personally... in time."

  "There is no time left."

  "It's not so simple! Even if they are just a third-rate irrelevant sect, they still hold the Holy Rights to those mountains! It was brilliantly clever for that old servant of hers to drag her there of all places..."

  "You are growing ever bolder, little one." The young man suddenly found himself floating against his will, feeling the pressure of the fingers digging into his neck as he found it harder and harder to breathe.

  The majestic dragon robes fluttered wildly as he rocked his legs in any which direction he could, trying to gasp for breath.

  "Not five years ago, you came to me on your knees, begging and crying to help you. And look at you now--daring to talk back, to quip, to praise the filth-blooded before my very ears. Because of you, because of how long we've waited, the word has already gotten out. All the Holy Lands are aware that the Soul Dao Seed is somewhere in the Lesser Lands.

  "While they may not know precisely where just yet, it is only a matter of time. The time we don't have. So, you have a month, young pup. Go to war, and get me the Seed by any means necessary, or I will do unto you what your body would have already done without me... but much, much, much worse."

  "HAAAAH!" the young man gasped for breath as he fell to the ground, thudding against the rock-hard floor, feeling bruised.

  By the time he turned around and looked up, the old man was gone, leaving behind a lingering scent of death.

  "Dammit," he cursed under his breath, massaging his neck. A month... wasn't enough. And yet, he had no other choice. "Just what in heaven's name is the Soul Dao Seed?"

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  **

  What happened to Jiang Dong?

  Hell if I know.

  After my 'interrogation' came to an end, I went out for a nice little walk, took in the sights of a slightly overcast day with the scent of rain on the horizon, and by the time I came back... he was gone, my bedroom empty as though he were never there.

  Where was he ushered off to? I don't know, and I am far too afraid to ask.

  Besides, something about what he said stuck with me and made me ponder the depths of Lu Qi's memories.

  Light was six--so, the assault on the Demonic Sect or wherever she was had to have happened in the last six years. However, Spirit Sage was well over 400 years old, at least. Jiang Dong believed that the inheritor escaped and then took over Spirit Sage's body, but since I know that's not the case (since the inheritor is a young little girl that gets excited talking about chalk), how did Spirit Sage come in contact with her?

  Was he always a Demonic Cultivator? Maybe a former member of the cult who'd run away? Or maybe he was planted as a spy?

  Yeah.

  I could spin a hundred and two theories about it, but it's actually rather dangerous; I'm becoming less and less convinced that this is some tiny random sect nestled in a random, forgotten corner of the world where nothing ever happens.

  While I can chalk up one or two monsters appearing here to just 'fate', it's not just one or two. For a rather low-rank sect, it housed some people that vastly outpaced it. And I'm starting to think they're not here for no reason.

  I'm pretty sure, actually, that Long Tao is the only one here by random happenstance. But he was also the cog driving the current circumstances forward.

  ... I could have been reborn in some silent corner where nothing ever happens, and I could have just quietly reared a few kids slowly and steadily, but nooo, here I am, about to get caught up in a war that has about six layers to it, five and a half of which I can't even see through.

  Ultimately, whatever I can think of isn't going to be true due to one simple reason: Lu Qi's memories and knowledge in general are completely unreliable. They'd already bitten me in the ass a few times, and relying on them for something as spectacularly monumental as a war would likely cost me dearly.

  There's probably one person in the sect who knows the truth behind everything--Hua.

  While I could break this silent understanding we have with each other, if he thought I should know, he would have probably found a way to tell me.

  No, wait, maybe he did tell me something--with the spies.

  Inspired by a silent revelation, I quickly descended the mountain and found myself standing at the entrance of the market. I dug into my memories and slowly found all eight stalls that he dragged me to; it might be nothing, it might be my conspiratorial brain just doing conspiratorial brain things, but it could be... something.

  The way the stalls in question were arranged was a bit... odd. They were all lined on the right side facing away from my mountain, curving out and then back in like a spline. The pattern seemed truly random--it wasn't a letter or a word or a sign, nor was it an array or a formation or anything of the sort.

  It looked just like the normal shape of a curve--shape! Yes, its shape is kind of like an arrowhead? If I squint hard enough!

  And it's pointing to the place beyond the market, somewhere I hadn't actually gone in quite a while--Outer Sect Wasteland.

  ... no, that can't be right.

  Why the hell would he be telling me to go to the place where a whole bunch of kids die on the weekly? Wait, maybe he's telling me to go die? Heh.

  There goes my conspiratorial brain again, just making shit up.

  Haah.

  I just want to make martial arts, eat nice food (with spices), take my naps, and read books... ah, and become like the 7th strongest person in the world, nothing too ambitious. Is that really too much to ask?

  I wanted to forget it all, but there is my gut. My big, juicy, stupid gut. And it's telling me that there is something afoot. What? No idea. Not even an idea of an idea. But any time in my life I ignored my gut, I came to regret it. Especially that time I ate those oysters 'cause I wanted to impress the guys.

  Oh boy, was my gut angry. Now, though, it's not angry... so much as it's anxious. And, if you ask me... I'd honestly prefer if it were just angry.