The two continued talking for hours on end. Chen Hao didn’t ask about the necklace, but the girl reassured him that it would protect him when the situation was most dire. He did look quite silly with both a necklace and an amulet, but his life was more important than any fashion choice—after all, the amulet had already saved him from Wu Qiang’s mental attack.
When morning came, more tears were shed, and eventually, Li Xia hugged the boy goodbye, wishing upon every star for him to come back safely. Jun rounded up Guan Yu, and the strange procession solemnly made their way towards an open plaza northwest of the city. There, a huge crowd of chattering disciples mingled together, practically overwhelming Jun’s nose with how much stress they were exuding.
“Amitabha. Brother Chen! Have you come to see us off?” Zhao Bin shouted from across the plaza, and soon after, a whole group of monks encircled them. Jun felt balder just by being here.
All in total, there were thirteen monks, who, besides their tools such as khakkhara staves, singing bowls, and vajras, had nothing else with them. At their forefront was a tall and muscular, yet oddly calming man. He had a wide nose, plump lips, and dangly earlobes.
“Meet Brother Jing. He’s the head of our temple, and the one closest to Buddha amongst all of us,” Zhao Bin reverently bowed towards the tall Buddhist, who merely laughed.
“Not at all. I’ve merely memorised more of his teachings, that’s all. Anyone can become close to Buddha as long as they step on the right path,” he said, his voice echoing through the plaza like a loud bell.
“Greetings, Brother Jing, Brother Zhao. It’s a strange fate for us to meet here. Just three days ago we were talking about heading to the ravine, yet somehow, I’ve managed to get sent there myself,” the boy chuckled.
“It seems that Buddha had different plans for you after all. Fate has led you to us, and we will lead you to salvation,” Zhao Bin laughed, but was quickly interrupted by Brother Jing.
“Nothing happens by chance, by fate. You create your own fate by your actions. The future depends on what we do in the present.”
The rest of the monks wisely hummed along, nodding their heads at the saying. Jun wasn’t entirely sure he agreed—how else would a common dog begin to cultivate if not by chance—but that was an argument for another day. Besides, Chen Hao literally had a technique relating to fate.
Seeing no one else that was familiar, Chen Hao quickly fell in with the group of monks, looking like the ugly duckling among regular ducks. Or, better yet, everyone else was the ugly duckling, and he was the only normal one there. Regardless, there was strength in numbers, and from what Jun could smell, Brother Jin was likely in the Grand Circle of Qi Refining.
His happiness lasted for all of three seconds before he saw someone he rather wished to forget about. A handsome young man stood apart from the crowd, his eyes slitted, his hair grey, and his robes covered in ghosts and demons. While that was enough to make him stand out on its own, he also had a massive serpent coiled around his neck. It was coldly eyeing everyone around them. When their eyes met, an electric spark ran through Jun’s body. He wanted nothing more than to flee and cover.
“Fuck you. You’re a snake born to five generations of incest. Ugly and deformed freak. My bloodline is pure and untainted. I’m an emperor amongst dogs,” he shouted, lowering his body and assuming a defensive stance. His ears went flat against his head as he eyed the snake’s every move.
When the thing flickered its tongue, Jun had to resist the urge to channel qi and charge straight at it. There was something menacing in those eyes that told the dog it wouldn’t end so simply. It whispered in its owner’s ear, and the strange boy glared at Jun, hiding a scowl behind his hand.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“What are you looking at? Your mother was probably a dog as well. Walk along now before Grandpa Jun teaches you a lesson,” he entered a glaring contest with them before realising that one was a snake, and thus, couldn’t blink, and that the other was a half-snake freak.
“You better watch out when I get my backup here. Come on, Chen Hao, Guan Yu!” He yelled, but one was busy with the monks, and the other had somehow escaped from the plaza and gone to hide in a corner. Well, it was probably for the best that a snake didn’t see the rabbit.
After an hour or two of more posturing, a hush fell onto the disciples. An impressively handsome cultivator, dressed in an exquisite black robe and featuring prideful yet relaxed features, parted the crowd by his mere presence. Jun immediately recognized him as Huang Jie, the immortal who elevated them from mundane lives and thrust them into the cultivation world. Just like before, the immortal made several complicated hand gestures, and from the sky emerged a golden giant of a ship, a second sun made of wood and steel. This time, Jun was able to fully appreciate what a marvel of artificing and formation crafting it was.
“Alright. Listen up. I get that many of you might be angry or scared, but I am simply the middleman in all of this—I am bound by duty to transport you to the City of War and nothing more. Blame the sect or the elders if you must blame someone, but do not take it out on me. I do not wish to dispose of anyone while on the airship.”
Such was the gap in their abilities that even simple words spoken by him forced Jun to bow his head and not dare to look up. After Huang Jie’s show of force was done, he switched back to smiling and chatting with familiar disciples while guiding each of them onto the ship.
“Ah, tough luck. I wish you the best in the ravine,” was all that he said to Chen Hao, recognizing Jun more than the boy—he had changed too much for anyone but his closest family to remember him.
Once on the airship, they settled in the familiar cabins. Time passed as disciples went into meditation, likely not even planning to emerge until they arrived at their destination. Jun wished he had something more to say about this journey, but they were too high up to see anything besides mortal empires and slightly strange terrain features. Everything related to the cultivation world was either far away from mortals or hidden by formations.
As for Jun, he spent his days gnawing on bones and watching over the snake villain, who was too cowardly to make any moves here. Chen Hao, on the other hand, tried to resume his habit of spying. Unfortunately, the sect had defences against that, and his own family was too far away for the technique to work. The only thing he could do was vaguely read his fate, which in the short term was neutral.
Several days later, they began their journey over a massive jungle that spanned further than the eye could see. They were still on the “civilised” side here, yet despite that, the airship activated its cloaking features and ascended higher and higher until they could see the curvature of the planet.
It was only at this point that Jun realised how much bigger this world was when compared to Earth. He wanted them to keep climbing, to see how the planet looked from above, but it was past this altitude that they would start encountering “Atmospheric Winds,” which could tear even Nascent Soul cultivators to shreds if they weren’t careful. Yet, despite that, he fully believed there was a way to ascend past this, especially considering how powerful cultivators could get. One of the many theories relating to the Human Emperor’s disappearance was that he simply left this world and started to explore the vast cosmos.
‘Can I do the same one day?’
They followed a great river that wound throughout the jungle and slowly began to turn purple. The trees grew gargantuan, twisting into unnatural shapes, touching the clouds, and from time to time uprooting themselves to walk over to a different spot. The colours below them turned darker, yet somehow more vibrant. If they could zoom in from this height, they would find monkey tribes teaching themselves techniques and formations, battling overgrown beasts, sentient plants, fungi creatures, semi-humanoids, and massive insects. Here, where spiritual force was abundant, everyone and everything thrived.
And then, the entire horizon vanished from view, replaced by a wall of fog that stretched on and on, seemingly forever. It was like a part of the world had been simply cut off from view, replaced by wailing souls and strange faces, struggling in the mist. When their airship approached the wall, thousands of ghostly hands linked together, all reaching out towards the living disciples.
Instead of stopping, they accelerated straight ahead.