It was early summer, and the mists of the Shrouded Peaks turned muggy and warm with the changing of the season. Still, it was little impediment to the immortals of the inner sect. He Yu cultivated. The time in his cultivation chamber was chiefly spent contemplating his Way—what it meant to be a hero, what was the nature of justice, and whether he could discern those things for himself. As the pressure in his dantian built, He Yu found himself circling a few key insights and moving ever closer to answers that could satisfy him.

To that end, he sought out Da Ning.

He’d needed to enlist Yan Shirong’s aid to do so, as Da Ning was frequently in the company of Sha Xiang or Cui Bao. Most often, he was in the company of both. Although he knew that what he wanted to ask Da Ning had an infinitesimal chance of actually getting what he wanted, doing so with either of the others present would be absolutely impossible.

Yan Shirong thought the plan a waste of time, but he’d gone along with it readily enough. Using his constructs, he put together a complete enough picture of Da Ning’s routine that He Yu knew exactly when he’d be able to find him alone. He asked the same for Mo Zhiqiang after, but that had taken a bit more convincing. Eventually, He Yu had to pay Yan Shirong for his trouble, but he felt the cost was worth it.

When He Yu found Da Ning, the other immortal was alone on a secluded terrace located on the slopes of one of the outlying mountains of the inner sect. He was a long way away from the inner sect proper, and thus aid. Should things go poorly, there was little chance that he’d be able to call for help from his allies. He Yu knew full well how it would seem from Da Ning’s perspective, but that could hardly be helped.

“Sect Brother Da,” He Yu said as he stepped from the trail onto the terrace. He gave the other cultivator a salute before he continued. “I wish to speak with you.”

Da Ning immediately released his spirit in preparation for a fight. Neither of them could be under any illusions about how such a confrontation would go—He Yu was the stronger party, and they both knew it.

“Bandit,” Da Ning said. “Ambushing me while I’m alone and away from my allies. You show yourself for the coward you are.”

He Yu brushed the insult aside. He’d spent enough time around the cultivators of the inner sect to know the accusation for what it was—an attempt to appeal to his pride and avoid a fight Da Ning knew he couldn’t win.

“I already told you, I’m only here to talk.”

“What words of yours could I possibly want to hear?”

In that moment it took a great deal more restraint than He Yu would have liked to push down his anger. There was nothing at all stopping him from simply attacking Da Ning and leaving with what he’d come for. But those weren’t the actions of the just. Those weren’t the actions of a hero.

“Give me Li Heng’s family sword so that I can return it to him,” He Yu said. “Then distance yourself from Sha Xiang.”

Da Ning scoffed. “So, the coward Li won’t even attempt to reclaim his precious sword. Instead, he sends a commoner.”

“I came of my own accord. Li Heng showed me kindness when I first came to the sect, and I owe him gratitude for that.”

“I will not return the sword. I claimed it as just spoils of victory and it is mine to keep.”

He Yu kept his spirit restrained during the exchange, but that last boast nearly caused him to release his control. “I heard Li Heng’s account of the battle. He was defeated by Sha Xiang, not you. The only reason you have the sword is because she let you keep it. The only reason you have it now is because I’m letting you keep it.”

Da Ning glared across the terrace, but said nothing. They both knew full well what the balance was here—He Yu could simply take whatever he wanted from Da Ning, not just the sword. Although Da Ning’s qi filled the area, it was weak and diffuse. It gleamed like a sharp blade in the sun, concealing hints of toxin within. His presence, typical of cultivators of the Third Realm, was only partially formed.

He Yu knew that his own qi was far more refined. His presence became more like a storm every day. Still, he kept it restrained. It would do no good to seem like he was here to fight. Da Ning would receive his one last chance.

“Do whatever you like,” He Yu said. “If you won’t give me Li Heng’s sword, then return it yourself.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Da Ning raised his chin. “And if I don’t?”

“I owe Sha Xiang a debt. She attacked my friends, and she injured Li Heng. In the coming weeks, I intend to repay that debt. To her, and to anyone who stands with her.”

“I doubt you’re strong enough to defeat her as she is now, let alone all of us,” Da Ning said. “This is just a ploy. A shallow attempt at weakening Lady Sha and her allies so that you don’t have to fight us all. I see what you’re about, Sect Brother.”

“We shall see,” He Yu turned to go, and said over his shoulder, “You’ve heard my offer, Sect Brother. All I ask is that you return Li Heng’s sword and withdraw your support from Sha Xiang. Take the opportunity while you can.”

Upon returning to the inner sect mountain, He Yu sought out Mo Zhiqiang. The noble was lounging in a garden surrounded by a number of female disciples. When He Yu stepped into the garden and gave Mo Zhiqiang a salute, their conversation fell silent and all eyes turned towards him.

“Sect Brother Mo,” He Yu said. “I am here to speak.”

Mo Zhiqiang leaped to his feet, manifesting his spear from his storage treasure. His presence bloomed outward, his water and wind-aspected qi filling the garden with the feeling of a rolling bank of mist.

“Coward! You seek to put your Junior Sisters in danger by ambushing me while I enjoy their company?”

He Yu suppressed a sigh. “I wish only to make an offer. I have no desire to fight you again.”

Mo Zhiqiang snorted as he lowered the tip of his spear. “Of course you don’t. Tell me what it is you want then, and be gone.”

“Abandon your support for Sha Xiang. She cares nothing for you, and will throw you away once your usefulness has ended. You can live out the rest of your days in luxury here in the inner sect, lounging in gardens, drinking wine, and enjoying the company of whatever crowd of admirers you wish to collect.”

“As if I would dare insult Lady Sha like that. She has brought me much acclaim and aided my advancement. I owe her enough loyalty to repay at least that much. But I will humor you, and hear what offer you make to buy me away from her.”

“I know you value your pride, Sect Brother Mo. That is my offer to you. Abandon your support for her, and you can keep it.”

Mo Zhiqiang and the disciples around him burst into laughter. He Yu remained silent.

After a time, the noble asked, “Is that all?” When He Yu didn’t answer, he added, “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Sha Xiang attacked my friends. I owe her a debt, and I intend to put to rest the grudge between us. If that means I have to stand against her and all her allies, then so be it.”

“You speak of pride, but clearly don’t understand it. Where would my pride be if I abandoned my ally when she needed me? Answer me that, Sect Brother.”

“You’ve heard me, and that’s enough.” He Yu saluted again. Before he left, he said, “Consider what I’ve said.”

When he turned, he squared his shoulders to the laughter at his back and the murmurings of “coward,” and worse. Once he’d left the garden well behind, a shadow stepped into the path. Yan Shirong gave him an appraising look, then shook his head.

“I won’t pretend to understand what you were trying to accomplish, but I will say you put on a good show.”

Finally, He Yu allowed his shoulders to sag and let out a heavy breath. “That was rougher than I thought it would be.”

“On what account? I told you to expect as much, didn’t I?”

He Yu indicated a branch in the path that would take them to the sect’s common areas and the market. “I want a drink,” he said. Before Yan Shirong could protest, he added, “I’m buying.”

Yan Shirong fell in beside him. “So tell me true. What was the point of all that?”

“It’s just something I needed to do,” he said.

“You realize they’re going to run to Sha Xiang now, right?”

He did. “What they do now is irrelevant. It only matters that I gave them the chance.”

“If it were me, I’d do to them what they did to us all. Pick them off one by one with overwhelming numbers. That would settle the score.”

“I contemplated what I needed to do for a long time before I arrived at my answer. It’s more important that I follow my Way.”

They walked in silence for some time. Eventually, Yan Shirong asked, “What about Cui Bao? You didn’t offer him a way out.”

“He wouldn’t take it. He enjoys inflicting cruelty nearly as much as Sha Xiang does.”

“But you knew that Mo Zhiqiang and Da Ning wouldn’t take it, yet you gave them the chance regardless,” Yan Shirong pointed out.

“I did,” he admitted. “Maybe I was wrong to offer them a chance to turn away. Maybe I was wrong to not include Cui Bao. Either way, I did what I felt I had to do. That was the step I needed to take.”

“You’re starting to sound almost like a sage, you know,” Yan Shirong said.

He Yu groaned. “I certainly hope not. I’d much prefer if things were more straightforward from now on.”

They arrived at the wine shop, and He Yu purchased several jars for them both. They walked and drank for a time. Spring had since faded, and more frequently the afternoons brought with them a charge in the air and the distant rumble of thunder over the Shrouded Peaks. Storms were rare up here, but clouds still gathered to the north, dark and full.

Yan Shirong was the one to break the silence again. “How certain are you?” he asked.

“About as certain as I can be,” He Yu answered, turning his gaze to the storm forming that afternoon. If it was like the ones he’d been seeing so far, it wouldn’t amount to anything quite yet. He hadn’t yet figured out why they all dissipated before forming completely.

“I’ve never done this before,” he admitted after some time.

“You tried once,” Yan Shirong said.

“And I failed.”

Yan Shirong shrugged. “What is failure but a stepping stone to success?”

He Yu laughed. “Now who’s beginning to sound like a sage?”

“I should hope not,” Yan Shirong said with a laugh. Then he raised his wine in a toast. “Here’s to Sect Brother He, the first of our cohort to reach Golden Core.”

It was premature, He Yu admitted to himself, but he raised his wine anyway. He looked to the north, and focused on the building storm of wind, water, and heaven within his dantian.