Darian dreamed. Unlike in most dreams, he was lucid. He was awake in the dream and knew that he was dreaming. However, he couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak. Nothing. All he could do was bear witness to the events of the dream as a passive observer, no matter how much he wished to become an active participant.
He could do nothing, no matter how much he wished to.
In this dream, Darian knelt on the ground, staring at the bodies of a man and a woman. They were both dead, their blood pooling around them. While they were both on their stomachs, their heads were turned to the side and Darian could see the shock and horror on their faces. The sight of them filled him with pain and sorrow.
Both had light brown skin, dark hair, and dark brown eyes. They wore simple and tough clothing. Darian guessed that they were mortals, given how rough their skin looked.
Darian felt intense heat from somewhere behind him, accompanied by the sound of a roaring fire. It was so hot that it hurt. Smoke filled the sky, clogging his nostrils and throat, making it difficult to breathe. Darian didn’t care, or rather the person whose body Darian occupied didn’t care.
It hadn’t taken him long to realize that he was witnessing the events of this dream from the perspective of someone else. Was it a memory? An illusion of some kind? Darian wasn’t sure. Whatever it was, he couldn’t do anything except observe.
A pair of hands, smaller and more delicate than his own, shook the bodies of the man and the woman, staining the hands with blood.
“Papa!” a hoarse voice cried out from his lips. It hurt to speak. “Mama! Wake up! Please, wake up!”
Despite the hoarseness, Darian could tell that the voice belonged to a young girl. He couldn’t tell her exact age, however.
Movement from the corner of her eyes caught the young girl’s attention. She looked to find a man wearing fine yellow robes sneering down at the bodies. He also had light brown skin and dark hair, though his eyes were amber. The man had an aura of otherworldliness about him. His skin was smooth and flawless, and he looked no older than Lucius, yet by peering into his eyes the girl could tell he was much older than he seemed. A holding bag hung on his hip. In one hand, he carried a wicked looking dagger.
Darian knew that this man was a cultivator. From the landscape behind him, he guessed they were on some kind of farm. The area looked too arid to be Silverwood Vale, or anywhere near it. It seemed to be early morning, though it was hard to tell for sure.
“Your parents should have known better than to insult one of their betters, little girl,” the cultivator said. “Just be grateful that I’m feeling merciful, otherwise I would have sent you to join them.”
Burning hot rage sparked to life within Darian. He didn’t know if it was his own anger, or if it was the young girl’s. It didn’t matter.
“You killed Papa and Mama!” the girl roared.
She stood up and charged at the cultivator. What she planned to do, Darian didn’t know. Neither did he find out.
With a flick of his finger, the cultivator sent the girl flying back. Pain exploded in her chest, and Darian felt several ribs crack, though he wasn’t sure if any of them had broken. The girl landed on the ground with a thud and rolled over a few times, before coming to a stop on her back. There she remained, staring up at the sky, what little she could see of it through the smoke that is. Every breath brought a new wave of pain. Somehow, the girl remained conscious despite this.
Sorrow and impotent fury filled her, and tears streamed down her face.
“If you must curse anything, curse the fact that you were born weak,” the cultivator said from beyond the girl’s vision. “If you somehow survive, come find me when you become stronger. It’ll be an entertaining diversion, if nothing else.”
After that, time passed. The girl remained where she was, unable to move. It became more and more difficult to breathe. With each passing moment, she grew weaker. Her hold on consciousness slipped.
As the world faded away and her vision went dark, a soothing sensation filled the girl’s body. The pain disappeared.
“I was too late to save your parents, little one,” a man’s voice said, kind and gentle. “But I can still save you.”
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Darian started, waking up suddenly. He sat up and looked around, unable to make sense of his surroundings. Gone was the farm and the arid landscape. Gone was the smoke filled sky and the little girl’s blood stained hands. Gone was the yellow robed cultivator and the source of that kind voice.
Instead, he found himself in a small and spartan, but clean, room. It was rectangular, with bare plaster walls and a hardwood floor. Other than the bed he sat on, there was no furniture. The bed was pressed into a corner. At the opposite corner stood a wooden door. A lamp hung from the wall next to the door. Inside the lamp sat a crystal that emanated warm and gentle light. A window occupied a spot in the wall next to the bed, giving Darian a glimpse of the world outside. It was evening now.
The sudden change from horrid nightmare, to this impersonal and sterile room caught Darian off-guard. He needed a moment to adjust. Something warm ran down his cheeks. He touched them and realized that he was crying. Echoes of the little girl’s rage and sorrow and pain lingered in his chest. He felt her emotions as if they were her own.
As Darian came back to reality, he wondered what that dream was, if it was indeed a dream. It felt too real and vivid. Some kind of memory? If so, whose? And if it wasn’t a memory, what was it? An illusion? A glimpse of the future?
Darian knew that divination existed, allowing certain people to glimpse the future and beyond, but that was all. He had never met anyone who had this ability, and most of the ones he heard about turned out to be frauds and tricksters. Enough divinations turned out to be true, however, that they couldn’t be discounted offhand.
This dream hadn’t felt like a divination. He got the sense that the events he witnessed had happened long ago, if they happened at all. Whatever the case, he knew that he wouldn’t forget this dream any time soon. It had left its mark on him. Who was the little girl? What happened to her? Did she ever get revenge on the cultivator? He had so many questions, and no answers.
Voices coming from beyond the door told Darian that he wasn’t alone, wherever this was. He thought that he was still on Mt. Wind Dance, based on the quality of the spirit energy, though it was hard to tell for sure. He cast out his mind sense. There were four auras within his general vicinity. Two felt familiar, though he didn’t recognize them. He guessed they belonged to people he hadn’t had much interaction with, but lived somewhere on Mt. Wind Dance. The other two, however, were quite familiar to him
Lucius and Vera.
A part of Darian that had remained tense, relaxed. If his friends were nearby, then he had nothing to worry about. Darian didn’t feel Astra or Elliot, but that didn’t worry him. Both of them were adept at keeping themselves hidden. Still, he felt bad that he had passed out and left Elliot behind. He hoped the snake man didn’t hold a grudge.
Darian turned, putting his feet on the floor. The last thing he remembered from before he passed out was yelling at Lucius and getting so angry. He had wanted to hurt Zayne so much, had wanted to punish him for the pain he had caused, but Lucius had gotten in the way. He remembered getting ready to push, or maybe punch, his friend aside. Darian winced. He would have to apologize for that, on top of everything else.
No, that wasn’t the last thing Darian remembered. He remembered Astra appearing before him and helping him calm down. She did something to him. Seal some kind of crack in him? He wasn’t sure what happened. He would have to ask her about it when he saw her again.
Contrary to his expectations, Darian felt fine. He had none of the injuries he remembered receiving, including his mangled right hand. He lifted it up to inspect it. It was healed. No traces of its previous condition remained. That, coupled with his friends’ presence and the room around him, clued Darian to his location. Lynda River Heart’s clinic. He had never been here before, but Vera had mentioned it a few times. Assuming, of course, that he was right.
No time like the present to find out. Darian stood up and walked over to the door. He opened it, and the voices from earlier became clearer. Lucius and Vera were talking with a man, whose voice Darian didn’t recognize, and a woman, whose voice Darian did recognize. It was indeed Lynda, Vera’s sister.
The door to a hallway with nine other doors, for a total of ten, with five on each side. Darian’s was right in the middle. One end of the hallway led to a wall, while the other led to what looked like some kind of waiting area. The moment Darian stepped through the doorway, he saw Vera’s head pop into view. Her face exploded with joy at the sight of him.
“Darian!” she exclaimed.
Vera rushed towards him and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. As in, if he had still been mortal, his bones would have been crushed. Even as a cultivator, they still creaked. Lucius appeared as well. Behind him stood a woman Darian had only met a few times before, Vera’s older sister, Lynda. Next to her stood a man he had never met. Was this Lynda’s husband, Jayson?
While Lucius looked happy, Lynda and the man beside her wore neutral expressions on their faces.
“I’m so glad to see you awake,” Vera said. “You left without a word and the first time I see you in months, you’re injured and unconscious.”
“Vera,” Darian wheezed out. “You’re hurting me. I can’t breathe.”
“Oh?” Vera’s voice took on a sharper edge. “Is that so?”
She squeezed him to the breaking point. His bones groaned.
“Let me repeat myself. You left without a word and the first time I see you in months, you’re injured and unconscious.”
Darian took that moment to reflect on the fact that most, if not all, of the women in his life were violent. Specifically, they were violent towards him. Vera. Astra. Ellen. Would Master Nova be the same when he finally met her? Considering that he planned to punch her in the face, probably.
He gave Lucius a pleading look, but his friend just looked back at him with amusement.
“I’m sorry,” Darian said to Vera with the last of his air.
“You better be,” she said, before letting him go.
Darian sucked in a breath. Air had never tasted so sweet. However, before he could enjoy it for long, Vera grabbed one of his ears and pulled him close.
“That was just for disappearing,” she said. “You better have an apology ready for the fact that you were a cultivator and didn’t tell Lucius and I.”
“Actually, I do,” Darian said. “I brought a bottle of immortal wine for the both of you. Is that sufficient?”
Vera made a strangled sound.
“That’s acceptable,” she said after a pause.
She let go of his ear and the two of them walked towards the waiting area. It was a simple space with a few couches, a couple of small tables, and a rug covering the hardwood floor. Darian saw his things, including Elliot and the right Flamebound Gauntlet.
“I am glad to see you awake and well, Young Master,” Elliot said to him telepathically.
Darian gave no indication that he had heard him, other than a slight nod. He then gave Lynda, and the man he presumed to be her husband, a slight bow each.
“Senior Sister Lynda,” he said. “And Senior Brother Jayson, I assume?”
After a brief pause, they both nodded.
“Junior Brother Darian,” Lynda said, almost choking on the words.
Darian resisted the urge to smirk. This was the first time she had called him that, or even acknowledged him directly, in years. When he had failed to cultivate, Lynda had tried to put a stop to his friendship with Vera. It didn’t work. After that, she had just called him “that boy” while speaking to Vera, as if he hadn’t even been present.
“Junior Brother Darian,” Jayson said, his tone a bit friendlier. “I am glad to see that you have recovered from your injuries. My wife had rushed back to Mt. Wind Dance when she heard that you had been hurt. Thankfully, she arrived in time. Otherwise, your right hand might have been permanently crippled.”
Darian doubted that. While he had started to build up a tolerance to the medicinal pills Astra gave him, they were still effective. Astra would have just given him one of those. He didn’t say that out loud, however. There was no reason to reveal all of his secrets after all.
“In that case, you have my thanks, Senior Sister Lynda,” Darian said. “I would like to give you a token of appreciation for your help.”
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While he didn’t like Vera’s sister, he would prefer to be on good terms with her. She was one of their clan’s few cultivators who specialized in healing, after all.
“That isn’t necessary,” Lynda said, before muttering under her breath. “Not that you’d have anything of value to give.”
For the sake of keeping the peace, Darian pretended he didn’t hear that. Vera, however, did not share this sentiment.
“Sister!” she said. “Don’t be rude.”
Lynda ignored her.
“I have some dire monster bones,” Darian said. “I’m not sure if you have any use for them, but perhaps you can trade them in to the repository, if nothing else.”
At that, Lynda blinked.
“There are some medicines that require spirit beast bone powder,” she said slowly. “I suppose dire monster bone can be used as a substitute.”
“Great! Let me get them for you. They’re whole bones, so you’ll have to grind them down yourself.”
Darian went to his stuff. He put on the Flamebound Gauntlet and then Elliot, who adjusted himself to fit over the gauntlet. After that, Darian opened the leather bag and pulled out the bottle of immortal wine. He felt some spirit energy come from the bottle.
“Here,” he said, holding it out to Lucius since he was the closest. “My apology to you and Vera.”
Lucius stared at the bottle for several long moments, before taking it.
“I see that you weren’t boasting earlier,” he said in a strange voice. “You indeed brought a bottle of immortal wine.”
“Yes?” Darian asked, confused. “Why would I lie about something like that? I know someone who loves to drink immortal wine, and has a small supply of it. He traded me a bottle.”
The others all stared at him.
“Young Master,” Elliot said in Darian’s mind, his tone dry. “You may not realize this, but immortal wine is rare and expensive. The bottle you just gave away is worth a small fortune in spirit stones. The only reason why I was willing to trade it to you was because you are Master Nova’s disciple.”
Oh. It looked like Darian had inadvertently revealed more of his hand than he had intended to. Well, there was no point in crying about it now.
Darian removed the sealed container which held the list of ingredients his father needed, as well as the signed note authorizing him to make use of his father’s merit points. That only left the dire monster’s bones in the leather bag. He hadn’t planned to stay on Mt. Wind Dance for long, so he hadn’t brought anything else.
He closed the leather bag and handed it to Lynda, who accepted it without a word.
“Again, thank you for your help, Senior Sister,” Darian said.
Lynda and Jayson continued to stare at him as if he were some kind of rare and exotic animal that they couldn’t quite make sense of. Vera grabbed Darian by his arm.
“It’s time for us to leave, Darian,” she said, before looking at her sister. “I enjoyed our time together today, Sister, but it’s best if I head home now.”
She left the clinic, dragging Darian along. Lucius followed them. While Darian could have resisted, or at least tried to, he didn’t. Something told him that Vera had done this for a reason, and he trusted her judgment. Neither Lynda nor Jayson tried to stop them.
The clinic was located in a small wooden alcove near the upper area of Mt. Wind Dance. In fact, it wasn’t that far from Darren’s house, though Darian had never had any reason to visit it before. A paved stone path led to the main mountain road. It was nighttime, but Darian and his friends were cultivators. The dark didn’t bother them, and the light of the waxing moon was more than enough to see by. Even if it wasn’t, there were lamps with glowing crystals to light the way.
Vera kept dragging Darian along until the clinic was out of sight, before stopping.
“Are you insane, Darian?” she demanded. “Or just ignorant?”
Darian looked at her in confusion.
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
Vera pinched the bridge of her nose and didn’t say anything. Lucius, who cradled the bottle of immortal wine in his arms, answered in her stead.
“Darian, you left Mt. Wind Dance as a mortal,” he said. “And you came back as a cultivator. Not only that, but you gave away a bottle of immortal wine, as well as a bag of dire monster bones. That will attract attention, and not the good kind.”
“When this gets out,” Vera said, glaring at him. “And it will get out, make no mistake about that. People are going to assume that you had a fortuitous encounter and now have access to rare cultivation resources. That’s the only way all this makes sense.”
She gestured in Darian’s general direction. When they put it like that, Darian realized that he may have painted a target on his back.
“Are you saying that members of our clan will try to steal from me?” Darian asked. “My own kin?”
Not that they would get far if they tried. The only ones who had access to his secret realm were those who had a personal connection to Master Nova, and any guests they brought along. That was how his father had made it in. Even if any would-be thieves found the secret realm, and managed to get in, they would have to deal with Astra, the snake twins, and Darian himself.
“No,” Lucius said, shaking his head. “At least, I’d like to think so. The less scrupulous members of our clan might try, but the rest won’t.”
Vera snorted.
“No,” she said. “They’ll just try to pressure you into sharing your good fortune with the rest of the clan. Or rather, with them.”
This time, it was Darian’s turn to snort.
“They can try.”
While Darian considered himself loyal to the clan as a whole, that didn’t mean he liked any of them. In fact, he was furious at his clan for the way they had treated him for the past several years. They could try to pressure him all they wanted. He would rather spit in their faces.
Not that it would do them any good if they somehow succeeded. Astra was the one in charge of the secret realm’s repository, not him. Was that why Master Nova had set things up the way she had? If so, Darian applauded her forethought. While he found it aggravating at times that he had to go through Astra for everything, he was grateful for her protection and guidance. He would like to see his kin try and pressure her. She would bat them around like toys.
That image brought a smile to his lips.
“So?” Vera asked after a beat of silence. “Is it true? Did you have a fortuitous encounter? Do you have access to rare cultivation resources?”
“Yes, and yes,” Darian replied without hesitation. “Let’s go somewhere more private, and I’ll tell you both the full story.” He frowned as he remembered something. “Damn it. I can’t right now. I have to meet with my grandparents.”
Lucius pulled something out of his holding bag and tossed it to Darian, who caught it. It was the stone token for his father’s immortal cave. When Darian had left Mt. Wind Dance with his father, they had ensured that Darian’s grandfather would get the token. It wasn’t as if they would have been able to use it themselves while they were gone, so there had been no point in keeping it.
“Patriarch Darin and Elder Astoria came to the clinic earlier to check up on you, when you were still unconscious. They asked me to tell you to meet with them tomorrow evening instead. Patriarch Darian then left me that stone token and told me to give it to you. He said that you would know what to do with it.”
Darian studied the stone token. If this wasn’t permission to use his father’s immortal cave as he saw fit, then he didn’t know what was. He glanced at Lucius and Vera. Well, there wasn’t any reason for him not to share his good fortune with his friends. They hadn’t ignored or mocked him.
With that settled, the three of them headed towards Vera’s home.
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Jaime hummed as she worked, dusting Young Mistress Vera’s sitting room. Surprisingly, the life of a mortal servant working for Clan Wind Dance wasn’t that bad. The food was good, her Young Mistress was generous, and the work itself wasn’t too onerous. The quality of the spirit energy in and around Mt. Wind Dance was also high, so her cultivation hadn’t suffered too much either. The Mask of the Mortal Face suppressed her cultivation, but still allowed her to cultivate, which she found odd. Not that she complained. She had to be careful, to avoid being caught, so her progress was slow. Still, it was better than letting it stagnate.
She had come to regard her time here as something akin to a vacation from the poisonous environment the Pit Viper Sect fostered. The strong prospered and grew stronger, while the weak suffered and remained weak. This was an absolute truth in the world of cultivation, and the Pit Viper Sect wanted to ensure that only the strongest of their disciples rose through the ranks. Competition for status and resources was fierce, and everyone looked after themselves first and foremost. The sect’s elders encouraged this.
While disciples could work together, and often had to, betrayal was common. It was expected even. After all, there was only so much to go around. Sharing rewards with others meant having less for oneself. Jaime had been no exception to this, and had done what she needed to do for the sake of her cultivation.
That said, dealing with betrayal and rivalries all the time grew tiresome after a while. While Jaime still had to be careful and watch her back all the time, here on Mt. Wind Dance, it was still miles better than what she had to put up with at the Pit Viper Sect.
Unfortunately, while life at Mt. Wind Dance was good, she hadn’t made much progress with her mission to find out more about Clan Wind Dance’s alliance with Clan Stone Pillar. She had thought that by pretending to be Vera River Heart’s servant, she would get closer to the woman and her not so secret lover, Lucius Wind Dance. Jaime thought that one, or maybe both, would know more about the alliance, given how well they were regarded. The problem was, if they did know anything, they never said anything about it out loud, giving Jaime little opportunity to eavesdrop.
Digging into things on her own had yielded little as well. As a servant, she had little free time to herself. More than that, her movements were watched by the other servants. If she spent too much time away from her duties, they would be bound to notice. This limited her opportunities to nighttime excursions, when most everyone else was asleep. So far, she hadn’t found anything useful.
At this rate, Jaime feared that she would fall behind Darrell. She had no idea how he fared, but if he performed better than her, then she would lose out on any rewards from their Master for this mission. She might even be punished.
Perhaps it had been a mistake to become one of Vera River Heart’s servants. However, choosing someone of higher status came with its own risks. After all, the more powerful a cultivator, the more likely they were to notice that she wasn’t who she pretended to be. The Mask of the Mortal Face was powerful, but it wasn’t infallible. Jaime had thought that Vera River Heart had been ideal. Too low in power and status to be a threat to her, but high enough to know something.
Unfortunately, Lucius Wind Dance only had male servants, or Jaime would have infiltrated his household.
Jaime heard voices as a group of people entered Young Mistress Vera’s home. The door to the sitting room was open, so nothing impeded her hearing.
“Welcome home, Young Mistress Vera,” Bella said, her voice warm and welcoming. “Greetings to you as well, Young Master Lucius.”
Jaime snorted in her mind. She had met plenty of people like Bella in the Pit Viper Sect. When talking with those they considered their superiors, they would be obsequious and sycophantic. However, when interacting with those they considered their inferiors, they were harsh and cruel with their words.
And Bella Thorburn considered all the other servants in Young Mistress Vera’s household her inferiors. This included Cassandra Blakely, the servant who Jaime had killed and now impersonated.
“Welcome to you as well, Young Master Darian,” Bella continued, her voice a little strained. “I hadn’t expected to see you again.”
“I imagine not,” a sardonic voice replied.
“Did something happen between you two, Darian?”
Oh? What was this? Had Bella angered the wrong person?
This Darian must be Darian Wind Dance. According to Cassandra’s memories, which Jaime had access to thanks to the Mask of the Mortal face, Darian Wind Dance was the grandson of Clan Wind Dance’s Patriarch. However, he couldn’t cultivate. He was also Young Mistress Vera’s friend. That was all Cassandra knew about him, having never met him face to face. Kind soul that she was, she felt a little sorry for him.
Jaime, who was not a kind soul, figured that this Darian must have been an embarrassment to Clan Wind Dance. He had been born with such a distinguished pedigree, only to turn out to be a disappointment. If he had been born Master’s grandson, and it turned out that he couldn’t cultivate, he would have been killed long ago and his name forgotten. That would be the only way to erase the shame his birth had brought.
Even so, this Darian was still a member of Clan Wind Dance, while Bella was merely a servant. If he wanted to, he could have Bella punished for her insolence, assuming she had shown any.
Jaime wished Bella had. While she no longer wanted to kill the handmaiden, not yet at least, she still wanted to make her suffer. In fact, she had a few plans in motion to make that happen. They were small and petty vengeances, but they would be entertaining nonetheless.
“No more than the usual,” Darian said with some sarcasm. “Bella here has been the very soul of courtesy and civility. Isn’t that right, Bella?”
“Yes, Young Master Darian,” Bella said after a beat of silence.
“Right,” Vera said in a skeptical voice. “Have refreshments brought to the sitting room, Bella. After that, ensure that we are not disturbed.”
“Yes, Young Mistress.”
“Oh, good. I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast,” Darian said. “I’m starving.”
Jaime heard the group head in her direction. When they appeared, she stopped her work and bowed. When she rose again, she studied the trio. Young Mistress Vera and Young Master Lucius looked the same as always, beautiful and elegant. Their auras indicated that they were both in the Energy Gathering stage, though Lucius was ahead in that regard. He carried a bottle of wine in his hands, and Jaime sensed spirit energy coming from the bottle.
Was that immortal wine?
Jaime’s mouth watered at the thought. The one and only time she had gotten to drink immortal wine had been after the ambush that had killed Ava Stone Pillar’s son and daughter-in-law. Master had been in such a jubilant mood afterwards, that he had splurged and ensured everyone in the Pit Viper Sect received at least a sip of immortal wine. Jaime sometimes dreamed about that sip. It had been an experience that she would never forget.
Jaime kept enough of her composure to study the last member of the trio. For a moment, she wondered if this young man was indeed a Wind Dance. He had darker skin, darker hair, and his build was different. From what Jaime had seen, most members of Clan Wind Dance were tall and lean. This young man was shorter and bulkier. He also wore different clothing.
His aura felt like a mortal’s but Jaime was certain that he was not. It was “quiet” compared to other mortal auras, more subdued. That was a subtle sign that he was hiding his cultivation somehow. Only those who were familiar with him, or those who knew what to look for, would notice. As someone who had hidden her cultivation many times, for one reason or another, Jaime was very familiar with this sort of thing.
Interesting.
Bella came in from behind the trio.
“Cassandra,” she snapped out. “The Young Mistress and her guests would like some refreshments. Go fetch some from the kitchen.”
Jaime nodded her head and followed Bella’s orders. For once, she was happy to obey. Her intuition told her that she would be interested in whatever these three were about to discuss.
“Please bring some wine glasses as well, Cassandra,” Vera said, giving her a smile.
Jaime, keeping in character, returned it with a shy smile of her own. Young Mistress Vera always treated her servants with kindness, and had even taken the effort to learn all of their names. Bella’s lips pursed at this, and Jaime knew that the handmaiden would find some way to retaliate.
It took some time, but Jaime retrieved the refreshments from the kitchen, as well as the wine glasses, and brought them to the sitting room. Afterwards, Young Mistress Vera dismissed her, but this did little to dismay Jaime. She knew a few ways to move unseen, and would be able to eavesdrop on the conversation with ease.
Would her efforts finally bear fruit?
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Astra watched as the little rat masquerading as one of Vera River Heart’s servants scurried about. The woman’s disguise had almost fooled even her, despite her cultivation level. Almost, but not quite. There were distortions in the woman’s aura, which piqued Astra’s interest enough to take a deeper look with her mind sense. After that, it hadn’t taken her long to realize that the woman’s aura was like a mask, a facade, covering up her real nature.
The method the woman used, however it worked, was brilliant. Whoever came up with it must have been some kind of genius. This method had its flaws, however, and the longer this woman used it, the more pronounced those flaws would become.
As the woman sneaked her way to eavesdrop on Darian’s conversation with his friends, Astra thought about intervening. In the end, she decided not to. What if this woman wasn’t the only rat around? What if there were others? It was likely that this woman was just a pawn working for a bigger rat. In that case, it was better to let this rat remain free and see if she would lead Astra to any others.
Astra smiled. Like Senior Sister Nova, she was greedy. It had been a while since she had been on the hunt. The more rats she could hunt the better, as far as she was concerned.