Hao walked into the mission hall for the first time in a while, being met with one hundred eyes. He could feel them looking, see them too before he could catch any smell in the room. The number of people made the mission hall seem like a different place. Most of them acted as if they were secretly drunk—Perhaps they were.
It felt like a longer time than it had been. Hao had been in this room no more than fifteen days ago, but each of those days since he arrived on the Lower Peak had a growing list of things to do or look out for.
Hao lost track of the people in the mission hall the moment he started counting. The place was bustling—perhaps it was just the time of day. Ironically, much like mortals, cultivators hid from the sun during most of the summer.
Senior Tuzai sent Hao away the moment Hao demonstrated his ability with the initial steps of ‘Seven Colored Steps’.
“It’s not like we have a lot of work right now. People aren’t used to summer yet. You can take miscellaneous jobs till I request you come back. You can buy blood with the Sect points you earn.”
“Or I can say I need you to hunt beasts and animals with the excuse of running low on food.” Senior Tuzai said, giving Hao a creepy scan while leaning over the inert beast’s blood and the Deathly Qi.
Hao took the first option, not that he had any intention of spending his labor on blood to give over to Senior Tuzai. The Drinking-Stone turned blood into World Energy, which was more than beneficial to him. But he wanted to look at the options in the mission hall.
For Hao, there was plenty to learn from each mission. Though, getting a hunting mission would have been hard. The mission hall posts them with teams in mind. There were one or two that had no such requirement, but they had their stipulations.
Can I fight one of the healthy beasts that we butcher in the hall? Hao had some hidden confidence—a beast was just a beast until it thinks its actions through.
Senior Tuzai did not share that confidence in Hao's odds; he already told Hao he would have died.
The quarry was not the only complication that came with such missions. If he tried to hunt only, and a large beast at that, the number of eyes on him would multiply. He was already under constant pressure from the glares.
Very few people enter the hall alone. Nearly everyone who hunted had a team. They were all gathered in little circles, little attention paid to the team next to them; At least not directly. Eyes were jumping around the room, whispers filled the hall like bee wings.
Hao’s ears, and probably everyone else’s ears in the hall, struggled to pick up the sound of voices. Lips were making subtle shapes with little air passing through them. Their tongues did most of the work inside their mouths, outside of sight of eyes, hiding plans. The easiest way to find prey is to steal another team’s quarry.
Hao was catching a few glances himself. Only those truly strong, like Senior Tuzai, could look around without using their eyes—How strong is that?
The eye he could see around the room made a team seem even less appealing—They could just ambush me after the mission. Take what I have and leave me as carrion for birds and insects.
Hao held trust towards the Wu women, but no matter how bold he was feeling, he had no interest in extending his trust to many others. Especially if all the potential ‘teammates’ acted in such a manner.
Hao scanned what people called mission boards—the walls. Wooden badges hang all around Hao, reaching left, right, up, and down until the front desk.
When a group looking for a mission that was guarding a section of the wall moved, Hao took his chance to step up and look at the missions.
The mission types were varied, each having a limited but not small number. The least common were personal requests; individuals asking for a type of order to be fulfilled, like the forging hall asking for a particular beast’s bone.
The most common types were general tasks, collecting herbs, or hunting common beasts on the mountain.
Herb collection took up seventy percent of the mission board Hao looked at. Most were general tasks left up by the mission hall. A couple had a cauldron symbol on them, posted for use by the medicine hall and alchemists. A hall that made medicine and poisons alike.
Hao grabbed one of the herb collection missions for now; It was simple, decent paying, giving a week’s worth of labor butchering for a single plant. They paid more, a bonus for healthy plants with intact roots. Each had a similar pay for except for the dusty ones that were out of Hao’s reach, close to the ceiling.
Hao had plans outside of just grabbing the plants in the request for points. He wanted to try growing them inside the bag. The berries and bushes inside were growing. Things were getting messy inside the bag, the weight was continuously increasing. It felt lighter after he had his breakthrough, but the weight multiplied again once he made more world energy inside of it.
If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
Hao pulled the badge off the board. He could feel dozens of eyes grab at him for just a moment. It was a sickening feeling. He thought he was getting used to it, but it was a different feeling entirely. Information on him was noted in a second before the looks disappeared.
Hao could only guess at their summaries of him. The Wu women insisted on dressing him; he was well-dressed, and only his robe blended in. His streaky hair that was tied back with the medicine bottle ornament made him a beacon.
The words of this Mo Bangcai did not help; the First Elders, “Talented new disciple, who hunted a beast on his first week of joining the Sect” already spread his distaste for Hao. Most had heard a crude description of his appearance, not knowing him.
Hao took the mission up to the desk. He stood in the same palace he had before. The people at the desk differed from the past. A few moved over to help Hao get done and out of the hall.
One person looked at the mission badge, never looking up at Hao. They shuffled around under the desk, looking for something outside of Hao’s line of sight.
When they came back up, they placed a scroll on the desk next to the badge.
“Not a lot of people take collection tasks anymore.”
“Most people are here to gain what little strength they can before the Secret realm.”
“He could be a newbie…”
They talked to each other and hummed as he was being shoved out of the way, taking the things they handed to him. Hao left the mission hall, placing the badge in the bag as he turned the corner out of anyone’s line of sight.
Hao read the scroll as he ignored the gathering eyes of those outside.
The scroll had information on multiple herbs, the most common ones that were on the mission board. It listed their effects, methods of harvest, with physical descriptions and drawings. Hao knew most of it, his time spent at the library already paying off. He did not give up the chance to memorize all the information.
He was halfway out of the Sect when he lifted his head from the scroll. Making his way down a winding side path near the Sect’s trial.
Once he was on the same level of elevation as the mining hall, he went into the woods, using ‘Seven colored Steps’ to vanish.
He had to stop and look around; he could not shake the feeling that someone was watching him—Perhaps I was just being paranoid. I should just run for a while. If someone sees my footwork…—There was no one around Hao in the forest.
Hao was trying desperately to keep his strength hidden, even if it was little strength. He knew his breakthroughs were abnormal. The last thing he wanted was to garner any more attention or curiosity, especially towards any secrets may or maynot have.
He started sneaking his way through the forest. Hao wanted to check here despite only ever seeing trees and berries. But he wanted to check a few places with familiarity before he went to other parts of the mountain.
No one came to the forest, which gave him an obvious hint that he was going to have little success. He wanted to try.
The herbs on the list were common to find, but not easy to come by—It’s an Immortal herb after all, not seaweed.
When he was deep enough in the forest, he practiced ‘Seven Colored Steps’ while scouring the ground. If he finished searching a strip of the forest, he returned to his starting point, scouring in a different direction.
It was the perfect chance to master the technique’s first steps. If he got the insight, to look into the Second steps.
The trees were in rows, perfectly so as he remembered; the forest was artificial in some way, transplanted or from an Immortal technique; Perhaps that has something to do with the herbs not growing in the forest. Hao thought, failing to find much outside of more berries and nuts.
Hao collected anything he could of interest. When he found a spot of dirt with plants growing well, he would pull the rich dirt into the bag. If he found a berry bush suffering the oppression of the trees above it, he would pull them in as well.
Any weed that caught his interest, or tree saplings, Hao pulled them into the Spirit-Holding bag.
The bag was getting heavier and the mess inside was growing. A row of loose dirt floated in the emptiness of the bag. Other patches of dirt floated around independently.
I need some more jars and vases. It was the best option to keep everything separate. Dirt was floating over and touching meat. Two charred sets of human bones flew around freely.
Hao’s control of things inside the bag needed desperate work. It was a nightmare whenever Hao tried to water the plants inside the bag; only containers were of help. Liquids floated in little balls, getting everywhere until the Drinking-Stone passed by.
The only way Hao had to organize and clean things was to take them out and put them back in the hope of being lucky.
Hao often found it a waste of time to get the jars of beast blood over to the Drinking-Stone inside the bag. It was his source of practice from controlling things inside.
He was unsure if such practice helped. A part of Hao had yet to understand or discover was growing whenever he used the bag. Hao could not see or feel the growth, but the result was obvious.
The feeling of the bag’s walls was one indication. So was the weight of the bag getting lighter as he let more World Energy gather inside.
It was becoming apparent that the more world energy inside, the less the things inside moved freely. Another reason to keep filling the bag.
The real depths of the bag, however, remained a mystery. They were far from his reach. It got deeper at every use.
Hao could still only ponder what the inside of the bag would look like in the eye. The only thing he got from it was a tactile sensation that brushed his mind. He was getting a good idea of it, all of it but the bottom.
Hao continued with his caution as he looked for herbs in the forest. He got sidetracked once, checking for any ambushes, beasts, or humans. He knew the forest well, but not the whole thing.
He had already searched every part of the forest he knew, even examining the abandoned houses a bit more. There were more spiders than water in its well.
Hao knew there was nothing more to find in the place, so he followed the streams that traveled through the forest, going upstream, traveling faster than ever before.
As his speed gathered, knowing his strength was increasing, bringing him comfort, pride, and immense—I want more. How can I get stronger? How much can I grow? Could I really be an Immortal?
Hao was finding excitement in exploring the painful path. He carried wolf-like eyes as he dashed through the forest till he reached the end of the stream as it was.
The streams of the forest gathered until he found one larger, a sum of many. He found its end, its source, or two sources, for that matter.
The stream forked again, before going outside the line of trees, going uphill beyond his sight.
They both travel up to mountain peaks, far off from the Sects, a part of the mountain range.
He walked between them, following both as they got larger.
Hao left the line of trees, the comfort of the forest he knew, two smells opposing each other striking him in the face.
The stream streams, one stunk of iron, blood. The other of flowers, pristine in its flow.