Fu Ran watched Shesui Lang's delicate strokes put some final touches on the array, until finally he began to put spiritual energy into it. Before long, a soft glow, almost that of candlelight, came from the writings.

The solid tile under Fu Ran’s feet vanished and, for a moment, he believed he weighed no more than a swallow. While the feeling of a teleportation array was not new to him, some of the little ones made audible noises of surprise. Especially the young girls.

The weightlessness under their feet was suddenly replaced by stone again, of the more natural variety. This time the scenery had changed.

Previously solid footing was unstable, and now rocks and dirt were scattered around the view. Some of the disciples that were already bonded, grabbed onto each other in a panic.

Fu Ran needed no one to stabilize him. Holding Wan Yu by the hand, he surveyed the surroundings. The mountains towered high into the sky, their jagged peaks silhouetted against the skyline. The soil beneath their feet was a dull mahogany color, blending into the somber atmosphere. The world around was hazy and somewhat desaturated, save for the occasional splash of red provided by the scarce bushes dotting the landscape. Gone were the vibrant pinks, purples, and blues of the mountaintop, replaced by a gloomier, almost grayscale palette.

Zhi Lao gave Fu Ran a tap on the shoulder. "Be on guard. We don't know the what hides in the demonic realm. We are here on standby only, but we are to be ready in case of emergency." Fu Ran's eyes crept downward to the tiny fist around his own hand. The corners of his lips lowered. It felt cruel to send him away, but he gently removed his hands.

"Go on. A-Wan, you should get ready along with the others. Do your best and pass." Fu Ran put on a comfortable expression. The words of a teacher flowed naturally from his lips.

"Okay, Shizun," Wan Yu said, with a nod.

Fu Ran almost wanted to laugh at how serious he sounded. The smallest disciple answered him in the same uptight manner as Zhi Lao. In moments, Wan Yu had nearly vanished in the crowd of students who were much taller than him. If Fu Ran hadn’t watched him enter, he would have lost sight of him immediately. Fu Ran sighed and his fingers rubbed his temples. Despite the action, he did find his lips curled up.

The Peak Masters explained the test to the children. The usual stuff: behave, aid one another, fight with all of your might. They were also given a rundown of rules. Passing the exam just involved defeating the smaller creatures in the mapped out area, so it was a moderately simple task.

Fu Ran was presented with what most people would consider, “a perfectly safe first mission.” However his mental state wasn’t prepared to believe any of it. So he didn’t. When Fu Ran could not promise a desired future, he had the perfect tool to aid him. Shi Wei Ji would allow him to know if his life would otherwise be threatened.

Scanning the area for a good while led Fu Ran to stumble across a nice enough looking rock to be his seat. While he sat, it garnered the attention of the Peak Masters. Some looked at Fu Ran with contempt, but with practiced mental deflection, he ignored their gazes. Only Zhi Lao stayed near his martial brother. Crossing his arms and leaning over his sitting Shidi, Zhi Lao asked, "Are you using Shi Wei Ji?"

"I am," Fu Ran said, curtly.

"Are you well enough?"

"Zhi Lao. I am not the delicate “princess” that some of you think I to be." The two of them fell into silence. He knew his actions didn’t match those words and, at minimum, 80% of his fellow masters believed in that title.

Fu Ran closed his eyes, his long eyelashes fluttering over his cheeks. He felt his way through the habitual motions and pulled his blade from his side. Fingers traced over the sword, careful touches as to not slice. He mentally chanted: Shi Wei Ji. Show me the world through your eyes. Show me what lies in the future. Forgive me for my previous negative thoughts today. I welcome your power as always.

Fu Ran’s body leaned forward, and almost fell off of his little rock seat. But his cheek was caught by the hip of his nearby Shixiong who just so happened to step a little closer.

***

Fun Ran's lashes raised. Into his vision came the demonic wasteland. This vision is still recent at least, he thought.

It appeared that he was in the same location, but deeper down the slope. The disciples went this way to hunt.

Fu Ran ran his sleeve at a sticky, wet feeling along the side of his lip, and pulled himself to a stand. His steps were wobbly and shaky, due to a terrible searing pain in his core. Only just barely noticing a small staining of red, did he look at his sleeve. “Blood?” Fu Ran tried to say words in horror, but only a choke escaped from his lips. Panicked, he tried to take in the scenery, his heartbeat kicking up faster, but with every messy step came a sickening need to vomit. His eyes finally dragged to the source of agony.

His entire stomach was red, and no small amount of it either, a vivid gash visibly sat on his stomach. Upon closer inspection it appeared more like he had been completely stabbed through.

Fu Ran mentally wailed. Shi Wei Ji! Do you enjoy my suffering? If not, then please show me how I end up in these situations! I feel I have awoken to calamity. Fu Ran’s gifted nickname was beginning to make more sense now. Master of Calamity is truly how he felt. Any Peak Master who knew the boy growing up, called him that. However Fu Ran wholly disagreed. Using the title of “Master” so flippantly to describe him was wrong, because it implied he held some power over what he saw. He did not.

Fu Ran forced his legs to take a few more steps, before they absolutely refused to take another.

"Shizun!" Fu Ran gave another cough of blood at the shock of hearing someone call him that, though the holder quickly revealed himself. It was Wan Yu. How had he taken to that name so quickly?

Opening his mouth to call for, “A-Wan,” he was met with more trails of red. Clamping his fingers over his lips was the only way to prevent further blood loss. I can’t die yet! I need to figure out how this happened!

Wan Yu broke through a dust cloud of debris and smoke. “Shizun! This way. Follow me and I can get you to safety," Wan Yu said, once again coming across far serious for his frame. Fu Ran wished to lighten his mood with some playful quips, but seeing the boy’s condition made him go rigid.

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How did this happen so fast? Wan Yu was covered in bruising and black marks in all places where his skin was visible.

“This disciple is sorry for his behavior. Shizun had to be removed from those,” Wan Yu said, his voice infuriatingly trailing off mid sentence. His eyes wandered away from Fu Ran with that distant golden stare, and he showed no signs of further talking.

Speak clearly child! This Shizun can’t understand if you don’t finish your words! I need to know. What. Happened! Fu Ran wanted badly to tear out strings of his own hair, if that would convince Wan Yu to read his mind and speak the words he sought.

Wan Yu searched the tree line like something lingered. “It’s dangerous here too, we have to go back,” he said.

Fu Ran wanted to chastise him from jumping from topic to topic, and to let him know that in the future, he would need to be much more clear and concise. If he wanted to show respect to the Master who would take him under their tutelage, then being straight-forward was a necessary trait.

Fu Ran reminded himself that this was only a dream brought into being by Shi Wei Ji. Wan Yu would learn no life lessons in this state, even if he did lecture him. Besides, at present, he had more pressing matters: finding causation.

The easiest thing to do was to accept Wan Yu’s guidance, he forced his body to run after the boy.

For a while they walked on a thin road. It was the very same road that the other masters traveled when hunting a base spot. The trees here were sparse, and they showed little to no sign of bearing any green leaves. There were traces of bush at the bottom of the tree, but those were a fiery red, decorating the trunk like a vine. Even the foliage was oppressive in the demon realm. These vines were clearly trying to take over the remains of the dead tree.

As the two arrived, Fu Ran could hear the noise of a confrontation. The sounds of battle, and the clashing of blades, only proved to irritate his aching head further. It throbbed now in ill timed beats.

The lands were looking different now. Rubble that was once solid, looked as though it had been busted up. Dust that lay steadied before, was now whirring around wildly around this almost desolate land. He heard the distant sound of clashing metal as they arrived a little closer. The Peak Master and his disciple tucked behind a larger boulder to peer.

Bright flashes up in the air showed a fast paced scene. Shesui Shixiong and Zhi Shixiong working together to fight against a larger humanoid demon. It kept pace with their movements with ease. No, perhaps it moved faster?

Fu Ran wished he could have watched this fight fully since their swordplay was dazzling. Shesui Lang through courses of water, and Zhi Lao shot out whips of light.

Despite their technique looking as dazzling as always, they were peppered in cuts and bruises. The condition of his Shixiong was terrible. He believed his own condition to be bad, but both of his martial brothers were clearly outnumbered, and had suffered great injuries because of this. The other Peak Master’s were missing, and this left a horrid aching worry on Fu Ran’s heart.

The camp was empty, and any lingering supplies had been thrown into the sways of the rolling dirt and dust. In the center of an empty camp there sat a large barrier dome, no doubt set up by Shesui Lang. There were about a dozen young cultivators inside, pressed up against the walls inside the barriers.

Fu Ran could only imagine how terrified those disciples must have been to see who they knew as great Peak Masters be maimed by damage. He felt pity for them.

The barrier, however, was much too promising to pass up! Wan Yu stood at his side not knowing that his Shizun wanted to stuff him in there with the other little ones. Had Fu Ran acted quickly, he could have used the safety of the barrier to try writing questions to the young disciples in dirt. Answers were much needed.

The two of them approached the wild battle in the skyline, Fu Ran now leading their run. As he broke into a full sprint, a shocking light, like lightning, struck the ground where he was going to place down his foot.

A rogue blade?!

His reactions were quick enough that not only did the flying blade not hit his foot, but he shoved back Wan Yu as well. He practically threw his young disciple several feet behind him. Fu Ran's eyes locked to this shining weapon stained in blood. It now stood before him almost perfectly upright, stuck into the ground.

Behind this blade, coming in like a flash, a body – It was an identical creature to the one his martial brothers fought! Fu Ran had just managed to step back as the black haired demon landed near its weapon. This demonic entity had a deep red hue to the ends of each limb of his body. One of the more tedious corpse spirits to handle. This was a Fall Corpse.

Placing two fingers together, Fu Ran commanded Shi Wei Ji from his side, and gripped it in hand. Fall Corpses were tricky, because their body remembered their previous life. They were all once humans, and sometimes cultivators, that had their bodies forcibly corrupted by demonic qi. They were most tedious because their powers varied so greatly. Some that had been powerful in their past lives, could move like war warn soldiers, but even those that were simple farmers had absurd strengths.

The Fall Corpse before him wore tattered robes with markings of Ling Huo Peak, a cultivation sect long abandoned in flame.

Deceased muscles moved with sickening cracks and pops. It’s fast! Fu Ran panicked. The Ling Huo Peak disciple closed the distance with great ease, and reached for the blade at Fu Ran’s feet. Those bony, blood-red hands stretched and wrapped around the blade stuck in dirt. The man slowed down for only a moment, before swinging upwards with intensity. CLANG!

Fu Ran was quick enough to block. The attack reverberated, his silver blade almost trembling from the impact. Shi Wei Ji did not like that. The weapons pressing against one another caused sparks to fly left and right. When the swords slid blades, they let out ear piercing screeching.

The Ling Huo Peak disciple needed no further proof of its strength. Fu Ran could feel the energy off of him, and he reeked of malice, bloodlust, and death. Nervousness washed over him.

Not just one, or two Fall Corpses lingered. There must have been at least eight if they were to occupy every other Peak Master on this excursion. It wasn’t to say that a Peak Master with higher levels of a cultivator couldn’t handle Fall Corpses, but they came with too much variation! Every Master here was exceptional, but had two, or even just one, powerful Fall Corpse ganged up on say, an already bloody Master… Things may not end well. He found himself in this exact situation, and the growing realization struck him deeply.

Slashes were exchanged one after another, as Fu Ran went toe to toe and step for step. His body kept up well for the condition it was in, but it ached terribly. Wrists shook and pleaded for release as he hacked into the demon cultivator’s body.

He was losing blood by the second, and it came as a shock when a deep intimidating tone called to him.

“Black Blade’s kept pet came too? Your Highness, what will you do?”

Fu Ran jolted. Judging the lack of reactions nearby, Fu Ran was the only one to hear that voice, and he also couldn’t locate who said it.

This deceased disciple letting out wild grunts surely didn’t speak in that voice, and the young Wan Yu didn’t not speak it either. That voice made tremors run through his mind, and the mention of royal status brought him panic. The grip he had on Shi Wei Ji faltered.

With that one slip up, he felt another line of pain from his abdomen to this shoulder.

Fu Ran winced. Dammit! His jaw tightened as he was knocked back with a kick to his fresh wound immediately after. Nausea took his brain and wrapped it up, keeping it isolated from the onslaught of burning pain. The beast kept attacking. Swing after swing, Fu Ran missed every chance to regain his footing. He could feel himself getting more unstable, and he could feel an icy chill slowly rise up over his body. Ribbons of red were thrown around wildly in front of his vision. He even saw a blurred silver blade moving further away. He dropped Shi Wei Ji. What a terrible Shizun, a terrible fortune teller, a terrible human being, and a terrible cultivator he was!

This Sleepy Master of Calamity was slain.