Chapter 169

  Ways of the Wild (I)

  Ignoring Light's odd (but expected, I suppose) reaction, my attention was drawn to the figure that just landed--not only because of the spectacular entrance, but also because of the clothes.

  They were red.

  And not, like, stained with blood red, no--but like those aggressively red dresses that actresses would wear occasionally. And that wasn't all--across the surface of the robes, strange patterns pulsated like heartbeats, almost. Circles with a web of interwoven stitches within them, and with all those circles being connected, too, in a similar fashion.

  The person... himself? Herself? Impossible to say, honestly, as their entire face skidded against the ground a bit and was now a mess of blood and gore that nigh made me vomit.

  I suddenly felt an arm press into my chest as I found myself flickered backward; just as I was about to try and defend myself in any way I could, I noticed that it was Long Tao who abruptly pulled me back. Just in time, too, as no more than three seconds later, the body exploded in a shower of gore, blood, chunks, and black flames.

  The ground shook further as I panicked and looked around for the other kids--luckily, Xi Zhao seems to have dragged Light away just in time, while Wan Lan and Dai Xiu worked together to block most of the blast.

  As the dust began to settle and the visibility came back, we walked up to where we were only to see a crater the size of a small house and no body.

  The strangest thing?

  ... I couldn't sense any Qi.

  "There really are Shamans here," Long Tao mumbled, probably on purpose.

  Shamans? The heck are shamans?

  "I heard about them from Madame," Wan Lan spoke up. "I don't think she ever mentioned them being around here, though."

  "They shouldn't be," Long Tao shrugged indifferently, looking over my shoulder and toward where the original explosion occurred. "There's a treaty barring them entry from most layers. If caught, the penalty is death."

  Okay, please, would one of you explain what the hell shamans are?!

  "What's a shaman, Senior Brother?" Thank you, Dai Xiu! See? That's why you're my favorite!

  "Hmm," Long Tao stroked his chin meaningfully for a moment before replying. "They draw upon a different kind of energy," he said. "However, the quantity of their energy is... lacking. That's why they draw those circles on their robes--they're like arrays, of sorts, that draw in the minute traces and store them within."

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  "Ooh! So, they're not really scary?"

  "Oh, no, that's precisely why they are scary," Long Tao said, surprising even me. "Qi, comparatively, is quick and extremely versatile, but when it comes to raw output of energy--theirs is quite better. That explosion, for instance, was merely two specks of energy igniting the core and fusing in a particular way. What can you do with two specks of Qi? Maybe move a sparrow's feather, if you're close enough?"

  Hmm.

  Okay.

  "But he's dead now," Wan Lan said. "Unless he wasn't alone?" Okay, I guess he's a he.

  "No, no, he wasn't," Long Tao said.

  "We should go," I quickly said. "The explosion was rather eye-catching, and it's best we don't get entangled with whatever it draws so early on."

  We took a rather round route around it as I kept glancing backwards, fearful that we were being followed. However, it's just my paranoia, really.

  Shamans...

  I really can't stop thinking about them. I mean, I know that I know next to nothing about this world--I'm a blind hummingbird that way--but it feels like every place we went to after the Sect has let me in on one or two rather important aspects of the world that I was otherwise unfamiliar with.

  The Holy Lands, that dumb competition they'll hold in three years--well, it's closer to two and a half years by now--the circumstances of the Demonic Cult, and now, well, now this.

  What else is going to shock me as we climb these mountains? Am I going to find a freakin' vampire eating people up for fun?

  Yeah...

  The night fell once again, and we stopped to camp. The kids rather excitedly chattered about the Shamans, though only Wan Lan mentioned everything she heard from Madame. Long Tao? Well, he was silent, and the kids knew not to bother him when he was that way.

  I also learned bits and pieces about them and formulated a broad image of who they were: extremely low in numbers, body-modders who engrave sigils directly into their flesh, potential war machines under the right circumstances, and perhaps the most terrifying of them all, one of the ancient myths kind of implies that they were responsible for the so-called 'First Cleave', where the one Heaven was sundered into Two.

  Whether true or not, well, there was no way to confirm, was there? But the fact that the rumor of such nature even existed to begin with alluded to the fact that the cultivators were very wary of them.

  That wasn't the impression I got from Long Tao, though. Call it my delusion, but I think I've gotten pretty okay at picking up his thoughts from his vacant expressions. And his, from earlier today, didn't suggest that he feared or loathed them, but more so a sense of yearning for... something.

  What?

  Who can say?

  I spent a good chunk of the night restlessly considering the future, and the other chunk coming in and out of a restless sleep. Ever since I started cultivating the new method, I noticed that falling asleep is... harder. I just don't feel that tired, to be honest.

  And look, I get it: there'll come a day when I can just sleep once a year for 38 minutes and be just fine, but sleep, for me, is more than just a means to recharge the body. It's a ritual.

  When Yas and I moved in together, I slept for like three hours a night 'cause I had two jobs and a college to juggle--and I was miserable. We fought basically all the time, and moving in together felt like one of the worst decisions of my life.

  Then, just before that year's Christmas, I fell sick. Like, can't-get-out-of-the-bed sick. And for three days, I just slept like a baby.

  Going back to three hours a night was just impossible after. Not for me, but for us.

  Okay, in hindsight, it's not a particularly interesting story, but most of those that define the tiny bits of who we are aren't either. The bare conclusion is just that, to me, sleep isn't just a body's necessity. And now, more and more, it feels like it is. Like my own body is telling me to get over it, but my brain hasn't caught on yet.

  Haah.

  I wonder... when will this world stop changing me?

  Probably never, just like back on Earth.