~~~

Qu Rou clicks his tongue.

“They went inside.”

“So it seems,” comes the disinterested reply from Xi Mou. He can barely see anything from so far away. Still, he trusts Qu Rou not to lie about his failings.

Under other circumstances, Xi Mou would be taunting Qu Rou for missing. It is not that Xi Mou dislikes his fellow Core Disciple. Qu Rou just happens to be highly skilled and insufferable about it, an all too common combination among those blessed by the Heavens. It is for his own good that Xi Mou must laugh at his failures when they happen.

Some would say Xi Mou has little right to say such things about anyone, but those people would surely be courting death by doing so.

Regardless, Xi Mou does not feel like mocking Qu Rou right now.

Xi Mou does not feel like doing much at the moment.

When Lord Feng Shang chose him to participate in this contest, Xi Mou was moved by his magnanimity. The Dead Plains were an opportunity to make up for his failure in the Crimson Cloud Tournament.

This is not what he had in mind.

“Well?” Qu Rou asks. He lets go of his massive bow and turns around to glare at him. “Will you not go after them?”

“Go after them?” Xi Mou echoes incredulously. He waves his hand at the temple miles away. “You want me to go inside that place to hunt mice?”

Not that it would be impossible for him to do so. Xi Mou is a cultivator in the Earth Realm. A group of Inner Disciples is nothing to him.

“We have our orders,” Qu Rou says. His aura simmers around him, ready to lash out. “Will you disobey them?”

Orders.

How often has Xi Mou heard that word since they arrived in the Dead Plains? Just where exactly did these orders come from? Senior Brother Yong had been the one to give them, and back then, they sounded perfectly reasonable. In a fight between Lord Feng Shang and Lord Feng Gui, they should naturally do their best to weaken Lord Feng Gui’s forces for Lord Feng Shang's eventual ascension.

“Be reasonable, Brother Qu. You made them flee into the temple and blocked the way out,” Xi Mou points out instead of sharing his doubts with Qu Rou. “That temple is full of Spirit Beasts. Why should I bother going after them when the temple will do our job for us? If you’re truly so concerned, why not go after them yourself?”

Xi Mou only gives voice to the possibility because he knows Qu Rou will never go for it. Qu Rou has too much pride in his skills as an archer to “sully” himself by fighting in close quarters. It is a miracle he managed to rein in his natural distaste for it long enough to participate in the Crimson Cloud Tournament.

“You speak as if you do not care for our mission, junior.”

Qu Rou’s aura flares around him. As always, it is annoyingly straightforward. An arrow ready to be unleashed at the slightest provocation.

Xi Mou refuses to back down.

They are both in the Fourth Level of the Earth Realm, and Qu Rou is technically the more experienced of the two. However, Qu Rou is an archer through and through. At this distance, Qu Rou is completely outmatched by Xi Mou.

“Our mission,” Xi Mou stresses, “is to secure Lord Feng Shang’s victory. I do not see how this does anything to advance that goal. Those disciples have been removed from the competition. Why spend more effort on them when there is so much more we could be doing? We should be seeking Young Master Feng Hao, not wasting our time here!”

Young Master Feng Hao is the true key to the contest. Should he die, Lord Feng Gui will gain control over the Eternal Flame Clan even if they reach Patriarch Feng first. While Xi Mou doubts Lord Feng Gui will kill his son for power, there is no telling what sort of accidents may happen in the Dead Plains.

Lord Feng Gui’s men cannot be trusted with the protection of Young Master Feng Hao. Even Young Master Feng Zhi, who has been hovering over Young Master Feng Hao like a stubborn cloud lately, cannot be trusted. If that one was competent, he’d have been chosen to go to the tournament.

Yes, protecting Young Master Feng Hao is what Xi Mou should be doing! Not this… this...

“Brother Qu, this…” Xi Mou waves his hand disdainfully. “This is beneath us. A petty pastime and little else.”

“Petty?” Qu Rou echoes with so much rage in his voice that Xi Mou fears the older disciple will strike him. “Petty? You dare claim my brother’s death is a petty matter!”

Xi Mou winces.

“It may have been the wounds dealt by Chen Long that killed my brother, but that would have never happened if Lord Feng Gui’s dogs hadn’t denied us supplies!”

Xi Mou looks away. In the face of such naked hurt, there is nothing he can do or say. Perhaps, if he had been present when Qu Yilu died, Xi Mou would be just as bloodthirsty as the others. However, Lord Feng Shang sent him to get supplies after his shameful loss.

That single order spared him from seeing Qu Yilu die.

“If this is petty, so be it,” hisses Qu Rou, taking hold of his bow. “I have been given prey! I will not stop until all of them are dead!”

Xi Mou sighs.

“Good hunting, Brother Qu,” he says, turning away. He does not care enough about Lord Feng Gui’s supporters to fight Qu Rou over them.

“However, I shall not be a part of this.”

All the same, he respects himself too much to join Qu Rou in this so-called hunt.

“You are betraying us?” Qu Rou asks. There is no doubt in Xi Mou’s mind that a wrong answer will earn him the ire of Qu Rou’s bow.

“Not at all. I already told Brother Qu, didn’t I? There is one thing above all that we should be doing to secure Lord Feng Shang’s victory.”

He is going to secure Young Master Feng Hao.

And if Feng Zhi tries to get in his way… Well, that will be a good opportunity to impart guidance on a bothersome junior.

~~~

Step. Step. Step.

Step. Step. Step.

Step. Step. Step.

The paths inside the temple are long and sinuous. The walls are smooth and curved. Even the floor undulates up and down as if whoever built this place was averse to anything resembling a straight line.

Liu Jin and Fan Bingbing walk at the front and back of the group respectively. A disciple in the middle creates fireballs that circle around them to illuminate their way. While they don’t need their eyes to sense any nearby Spirit Beasts, the same cannot be said for the traps lying in wait. Most of them should have already been activated by previous explorers and wanderers, but there is no need to take unnecessary risks.

“Go left, Brother Qing,” Fan Bingbing tells him. “There is a trap beneath one of the floor tiles on the right side.”

“Perhaps you should be the one leading the way, Sister Fan,” Liu Jin says, and not without reason. Fan Bingbing has helped them avoid a large number of traps so far. “You’d certainly be better at it than me.”

“Not at all.” The small girl shakes her head. “Brother Qing is the fastest one among us, so he can react to any surprise better than I. I am far more comfortable at the back. It gives me more time to read the walls.”

Most people would have heard nothing but her normal monotone. However, Liu Jin is becoming better at discerning her moods. There is some pep in her voice and, hard as it may be to believe given the circumstances, a spring in her step. Contrary to almost everyone else, Fan Bingbing seems excited, and even happy, to be here.

“The walls?” asks Disciple Wong. He looks at the sinuous carvings there and snorts. “What is there to look at? They are just lines! The halls of the Bright Phantasm Sect are far better decorated!”

As someone who has seen the halls of the Bright Phantasm Sect, Liu Jin knows that to be a lie. He stays silent, however. Wong’s mood is a far more reliable indicator of how the rest of the disciples feel. Tense, scared, and ready to lash out at anything.

There is no need for him to provide a spark.

“They are not just lines,” Fan Bingbing corrects him. Liu Jin has never heard her sound so offended. “They are an ancient language that can only be found in the Dead Plains. Those who join the Exploration Division are all required to learn it eventually.”

Liu Jin can literally feel the pride radiating off her. It would be amusing if he couldn’t also sense the frustration coming off from the other disciples.

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“How else do you think I have been spotting the traps before Brother Qing?” she adds.

“They just wrote it on the walls?” asks another disciple, a fellow member of the Apothecary.

“There is no point in a temple that cannot be used,” Fan Bingbing replies as though it should be obvious. “Traps should be a surprise only for intruders. Thus, language becomes that which separates guests from intruders. The writing points the proper path, if in a roundabout way. The walls are full of poems and chants.”

“What do they say?” Liu Jin asks, curiosity getting the better of him. The question makes Fan Bingbing’s aura brighten noticeably.

“We welcome all Children of Nuwa,” Fan Bingbing intones, causing Liu Jin’s eyes to widen slightly. He remembers that name from all the poems Old Jiang made him read as a child. While he never cared much for them, constant repetition imprinted them in his brain. “She who mended the Heavens and fashioned us by hand. She protected us from cataclysm, and we danced her loneliness away. From here, we shall reach-”

“Who cares what some old writing says?!”

Wong cuts off Fan Bingbing with an angry shout. The disciple’s face is red, and his body trembles with rage.

“We’re still trapped here!” Wong stomps his way to the front of the group and turns to face them. “We have been walking for hours, and we’re not any closer to finding an exit! Even if we did find one, there is still someone out there who can easily kill us! We’re just choosing between dying out there and dying here!”

Liu Jin sighs. “Brother Wong-”

“You led us here!” Wong shouts with a trembling voice. “Brother Qing, when you led us through the All-Devouring Worm, I was moved! Even though some of us were in opposing factions and we ended up turning on each other, I still thought Brother Qing was a virtuous man for trying to keep everyone alive! However… However…”

Wong chokes. Four of the disciples around him watch in stunned silence. Fan Bingbing looks like she is about to intervene, but Liu Jin motions her not to with a slow shake of his head.

He needs to hear this. Perhaps, even more than Wong needs to say it.

“You were leading us here,” Wong says at last. “Even though you also knew this was pointless for Inner Disciples like us. You led us here without hesitating! You all knew! And now…”

His voice breaks. His eyes glimmer in the darkness.

“And now Brother Jia is dead.”

The name of the bald disciple. Liu Jin firmly etches it into his memory this time.

“And Brother Si. And Sister Huangfu. And everyone else. They are all dead. And we… we are just waiting to die…”

Wong’s words leave behind a silence fit for a funeral. The disciples look at each other nervously, never once daring to look at Liu Jin. They do not speak.

They do not need to.

Liu Jin takes out his spear and hoists it over his shoulder. Wong’s eyes widen when Liu Jin aims it at him. He reflexively clenches his eyes shut.

One second passes.

Wong tentatively opens an eye when no unimaginable pain comes for daring to lash out at a stronger disciple. Liu Jin is still in front of him, but his spear is no longer on his person.

Wong looks back.

Liu Jin’s weapon has pierced a spidery creature on the far end of the hall. Its many legs are still writhing around as more creatures of the same type appear down the hallway.

“We will continue this later,” Liu Jin says, walking past Wong. “For now, let us focus on the immediate threat.”

Liu Jin leads the way. Faced with a threat to their lives, the disciples march forward despite their fears. Not a single one among them wants to be the first to flee and leave the others behind.

Fan Bingbing names the creatures for their benefit, Bright-Crested Spiders. Indeed, though their bodies are dark, the creatures have bright tufts of red hair over their bodies. They are as big as horses and frighteningly fast. Their fangs drip with venom, and their small eyes shine in the darkness.

Stepping in with Ground Contraction, Liu Jin pulls out his spear from the dying spider and coats it in lightning to slice another one in half. Fan Bingbing plays a solitary note and creates a blade that cleaves through another spider. Two disciples follow that up with a rain of fireballs, providing cover fire for the others.

Like that, the disciples quickly fall into the rhythm first discovered when fighting inside the All-Devouring Worm. There are fewer of them now, but that ends up working to their advantage as they do not need to fear getting in each other’s way.

After three minutes of fighting, the spiders are all dead.

“These are all male,” Fan Bingbing says, poking a corpse with her shoe. “The mother probably has her nest deeper inside. We should do our best to avoid her.”

Prudent advice, yet Liu Jin recognizes it for what it is, an attempt to steer the conversation elsewhere and pretend nothing happened.

“If I had said, let us forget about the competition and hide until it is over, who would have listened to me?”

He shall not do that.

“Well?” Liu Jin asks. One by one, he meets everyone’s eyes. “Would you have listened to me if I said that?”

Wong is the first to answer.

“Of course, I would have!” he shouts.

“I wouldn’t have,” Fan Bingbing says. She sighs and crosses her arms. “Lord Feng Shang has long since tried to curb the efforts of the Division of Exploration. He fears we will initiate needless conflicts by pushing the borders of the Eternal Flame Clan. However, to push boundaries is what the Division of Exploration is for. That is why I shall do whatever I can to support Lord Feng Gui’s efforts.”

“I also wouldn’t have, Senior Brother Qing,” another disciple says, raising his hand to speak. His name is Ni Cai if Liu Jin remembers correctly. He is from the Medical Pavilion. “I am the second generation of my family to belong to the Eternal Flame Clan. My parents are both Inner Disciples. Helping win this competition would go a long way towards earning prestige for myself and my clan,”

“I would have listened to Brother Qing,” says a disciple from the Apothecary, Dong Kuan. “I just happened to be in the Sparring Hall at the wrong time and got caught in the fighting. I support Lord Feng Gui, and I support Elder Xue, but not enough to want to brave the Dead Plains. I’d rather spend my time making potions and elixirs in the Apothecary. The only reason I came here is so that I wouldn’t be left alone. I thought that if I stayed with the group, my odds of survival would be higher.”

“Meanwhile, I would have come to the temple even if Brother Qing hadn’t said anything,” says another disciple. He is Ten Zichun, from the Armory. “I don’t have any clan to help me out. Merits are the only way for someone without connections like me to rise.”

“I would have followed what Brother Qing said regardless of what he told me to do,” says the last disciple, Gan Nanfeng. She is also from the Apothecary. “I have no grand goals, but I would have been too scared of not properly following orders.”

Curiosity. Family. Survival. Ambition. Fear.

Liu Jin takes a moment to absorb them all.

“I see.” Liu Jin closes his eyes. “Brother Wong, you are not wrong.”

Wong, who had been trying his best to stand defiant before Liu Jin, is left floored.

“What?”

“You are not right,” Liu Jin adds, “but you are not wrong. If I had said we were not going to bother competing as soon as we landed, some of you would have listened to me, and some of you would have felt forced to listen to me. Just as some of you did not like that I kept Lord Feng Shang’s supporters alive inside the worm but went along with it anyway. We cannot know for sure what those who are gone would have done. Like most of you, some were bound to have goals that mattered to them too much to quit.”

Liu Jin pauses for a moment.

“I have goals too,” Liu Jin admits. “I support Lord Feng Gui’s efforts because I believe my goals will be served by his ascension. I took it upon myself to lead you through the Dead Plains, but I never for a moment considered that we shouldn’t participate in the competition. It never occurred to me that I should ask you whether you wished to quit or not.”

There is no point in wondering whether the disciples would have been safer abstaining from participating in the game or not. One could easily argue they needed to enter the Eye of the Plains regardless. That is not the issue.

The issue is Liu Jin never considered not going to the temple.

Certainly, he had wanted to keep everyone alive from the start, but he wanted to keep them alive while making their way to the temple. That most of the disciples taking part in this challenge are those unlucky enough to be in the Sparring Hall when Bu Jing deactivated the bracelets never factored much into his considerations.

“I place supremacy on my goals,” Liu Jin admits. “Subconsciously, I put my goals above your lives. I admit it. I will not apologize for it because I have little right to do so, especially when that hasn’t changed.”

It is a horrible thing to admit, yet it rings true.

Gaining authority in the Eternal Flame Clan. Stopping Murong Bang. Changing things.

It may be that, from the moment Liu Jin chose to join the Eternal Flame Clan, he had placed those goals above the lives of many.

Liu Jin has certainly placed them above his own.

“How shameless can you possibly be!” an outraged Wong explains. “Why should we listen to you now? You just admitted you don’t value our lives as much as your goals!”

“If you think you can survive without me, feel free to send me away.”

The calmly delivered words leave Wong frozen.

“You were the first to turn to me for guidance,” Liu Jin reminds Wong. “If you have truly changed your mind, say it now. If any of you think you can survive without me, feel free to tell me right now, and I shall not bother you again. Go on. Say it.”

Wong opens his mouth, yet the words never leave his throat. No matter what, he cannot bring himself to say them, cannot bring himself to believe them.

No one can.

“I see. I am relieved you still place so much trust in me.”

From anyone else, those words would have surely been full of scorn, yet the gentle smile on Liu Jin’s face stops anyone from taking those words as anything but the truth.

“In light of your trust, I shall reaffirm my intention to have us survive this ordeal. I have neither the desire, inclination or motive to sacrifice any of you. If I had to sacrifice anyone, I’d sacrifice myself first.”

Is that a contradiction to what he said earlier? Almost certainly.

Liu Jin is fine with it. He is a cultivator. He can be as unreasonable as he wants.

“More importantly, I intend for us to win.”

The disciple from the Armory blinks. “Win?”

“When Brother Jia said Inner Disciples like us were never going to settle this, I did not disagree. I did not believe he was wrong back then. However, I now realize that mentality is unbecoming of me. It is unbecoming of us all. Why did I come here, if not to realize my goals? You have things you want as well, don’t you? Even if it is something as simple as survival, why should we allow ourselves to become so passive when it concerns what we wish for?”

“But Brother Qing,” says the female disciple from the Apothecary, “Did you not say the Core Disciples have most likely gotten a temple stone to Patriarch Feng by now?”

“And who said that the first one to do so won?” Liu Jin asks. “We were told to bring a temple stone to Patriarch Feng. Not once did anyone say we had to be the first to do so.”

Liu Jin’s words bring everyone’s minds to a halt.

“He is right,” Fan Bingbing says, stunned. “We simply assumed it was a race, but… did anyone ever say it was one?”

No one had. Speed was never once a victory condition for this challenge. In fact, there is only one completely clear victory condition given by Patriarch Feng.

If Feng Hao dies, Lord Feng Gui wins.

“That doesn’t change anything,” Wong shouts. “Even if this is not a race, we are still trapped here!”

“That is fine,” Liu Jin says with unshakable calm. “This is the one place in the Dead Plains we know all the other disciples will come to. There is no better place for us to be.”

“But that Core Disciple is still outside!”

“He is, and as long as he is, no disciple who supports Lord Feng Gui is safe here. Not us, and not the ones who will come after us.”

Liu Jin meets the disciple’s gazes one by one once more.

“That is why we must defeat him so that he will not kill any more of our brethren.”

~~~