When He Yu arrived at the inner sect proper with Chen Fei, things were noticeably more calm. Although there were also a few sporadic exchanges of techniques here, too, most conflicts never rose past heated arguments between disciples. It reminded He Yu of what happened in the west between Li Heng and himself.
Under the influence of Jin Xifeng’s whispers, some long-buried point of contention would finally boil over to an open disagreement. It was usually something fueled by envy. At least from what He Yu overheard. An interesting similarity between what had happened with Li Heng, and one that he made sure to remember.
Those disciples who weren’t engaged in some sort of disagreement headed to the higher inner sect peaks. The ones closest to the core disciples’ and elders’ peaks. That would be where He Yu and Chen Fei would need to go soon enough. But first He Yu needed to restock on supplies.
Between trying to keep both himself and a group of two dozen lower realm cultivators in fighting shape for hours, he was completely out of resources. Chen Fei said she would go look for Yan Shirong and headed off. It was good thinking on her part—Yan Shirong would be able to easily get them in touch with Li Heng and Tan Xiaoling once they found him. Aside from the approaching horde, He Yu’s first concern was the same as it had been when he started back to the sect on his own. Gather his friends and ensure they were safe.
After restocking on restoratives and spirit stones, He Yu tucked his second storage treasure into his robe. As much as he hoped that his home at the sect would be safe, given the way Zhang Lifen and Ren Huang had spoken, he thought it would be prudent to bring it with him. Beyond that, he didn’t want to think any further on the implications. Surely they would prevail. Especially if the sect elders rallied to the defense. Sect Leader Zhou Shanyuan was late Eighth Realm, and Elder Cai was at the peak. The only other sect elder He Yu knew of, Elder Wen, was middle Eighth Realm. Even one Eighth Realm immortal was a being of unfathomable strength, let alone three.
“I take it you know something of all this nonsense?” Yan Shirong asked once he and Chen Fei met up with He Yu. He waved a hand toward the pillar of red light to the west.
“When Yi Xiurong and Zhang Lifen killed Kong Huizhong, his cultivation base returned to the Sunset Empress. Now she’s free.”
“I was afraid you’d say something like that,” Yan Shirong said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’ll want to get in touch with the others, then? I dispatched constructs after Chen Fei nearly broke down my door. They’re on their way.”
He Yu thanked Yan Shirong for his swift response, and Yan Shirong replied with his expected payment. That he could still think of money at a time like this was surprisingly comforting. A small island of normalcy in a world that seemed to be on the brink of becoming something different.
Li Heng and Tan Xiaoling arrived a short time later. Both looked as though they’d been fighting, but were otherwise in good condition. The twin silver streaks in Li Heng’s hair had come loose, and He Yu noticed a dusting of frost on the hem of his robes. Tan Xiaoling had one of her dao sabers out, and kept her killing intent close about her, causing the surrounding area to feel sharp and dangerous.
“Welcome back, little brother,” Li Heng said with a strained smile. “I’m glad you made it safely, but as I’m sure you’ve noticed, things have been a bit rough in your absence.”
A touch of his normal humor was there, which made He Yu relax a bit. Whether there was any lingering envy on his friend’s part, it seemed like he resisted whatever influence the Sunset Empress was trying to exert.
Once He Yu filled them in on what had happened, they headed to the highest inner sect peak along with the remaining stragglers. If any doubt had remained about the severity of their situation, the sight of the entire inner sect assembled dispelled it. He Yu knew that there were hundreds of inner sect disciples. The rankings made that clear all on their own. But due to the nature of various schedules, assignments, and seclusions, the sect never felt crowded. The plaza they assembled in now was packed with immortals. More than He Yu had ever seen in one place before.
Nearly seven hundred cultivators stood in ranks. Their spirits, although restrained, made the plaza an absolute riot of qi. Aspects of the five phases were most frequent—fire, earth, metal, water, and wood—but other aspects were present, too. Shadow, poison, and wind; life and occasionally heaven. A trace of radiance here or there. Mountain was common; unsurprising given the sect’s signature arts.
He Yu even caught traces of aspects he’d never encountered before. Sword and force were the ones that stood out the most. Still more that he couldn’t immediately identify. He recalled one of his earliest lessons at the sect, that there were more aspects of qi than there were concepts under heaven.
As he fell into rank along with the others, a large, familiar figure wearing a conical peasant’s hat stepped up to him.
Fang Yingjie saluted He Yu and the others. “Junior Brother He,” he said. “It is good that you have made it.”
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“It is good to see you in health as well,” He Yu said, returning the gesture.
“A shame, is it not?” Fang Yingjie asked, turning to look at the column of red light rising to the sky. “I had hoped that one day we could engage in a true test against one another. If heaven is merciful, that day may still come.”
“This one is grateful for your peerless instruction,” He Yu replied. “If such a day never arrives, Senior Brother can be assured that it is through no fault of his own.”
Fang Yingjie looked first from He Yu, then to the others. “Be safe,” he said before disappearing into the gathered crowd.
“I don’t like the implications,” Yan Shirong muttered as they took their places towards the back of the gathered disciples.
He Yu didn’t either, but he said nothing. Instead, he fixed his eyes in the same direction as the other gathered members of the inner sect.
At the far end of the plaza, five cultivators stood apart from the rest. Among them were Zhang Lifen, Ren Huang, Su Meifeng, and two others He Yu didn’t recognize. Several dozen feet above, Yi Xiurong stood atop her peacock feather. The core disciples.
The Shrouded Peaks Sect was truly arrayed for war.
“Disciples, attend to me,” called Yi Xiurong. Her voice carried over the assembled cultivators, although she barely raised it over her normal speaking tone.
As one, the inner disciples pressed their fists to palms in salute. As one, they cried out, “As the First Disciple commands!” The sound was like thunder.
“An ancient foe has awakened. A foe whose prison the Shrouded Peaks Sect exists to protect. A foe who the Shrouded Peaks Sect exists to defeat. As we speak, a tide of spirits and beasts possessed by this foe draws near. You all are tasked with the defense of the sect and the Dragon Empire. For each hundred inner sect disciples, there is one core disciple. Arranged by sect rank, you are under the command of your corresponding senior. Arrange yourselves accordingly and receive your orders.”
Like Yi Xiurong herself, the instructions were precise and to the point. He Yu and Li Heng headed to where the other disciples ranked in the three hundreds gathered, joined by Tan Xiaoling. Chen Fei and Yan Shirong broke off to join the four and five hundred ranked disciples, respectively.
A male cultivator stood at the head of the three hundreds, lazily waving a feathered fan before his face. He wore peach colored robes and a scholar’s cap. His presence, although restrained, gave the impression of a snowcapped mountain.
“Three hundreds,” the core disciple called out. “I am Wei Hua, third-ranked core disciple. Attend to me.” His voice was strong, musical, and lazy. His expression seemed almost bored as he spoke, gently fanning himself, yet there was an intensity to his eyes that spoke of danger. He Yu supposed a layabout would never make it as a core disciple, let alone manage to be ranked third among them.
“We hear Senior Brother Wei,” bellowed the gathered disciples.
“There are three main paths of ingress to the sect from the west. The two hundreds will hold the center. We hold the south and the four hundreds hold the north. The remaining three groups will act as reinforcements. The disciples with ranks above six hundred will act as supply runners and messengers for the main fighting force. To your positions.”
Along with a hundred other inner disciples, all in the Fourth Realm, He Yu headed to the appointed point of defense. Between two of the sect’s southernmost peaks, a pass sloped down into a valley below. Beyond that valley lay the boundaries of the sect territory, and western wilds. Although the path was winding and long, there was little other than distance that stood between He Yu and whatever was coming.
Under Wei Hua’s direction, melee specialists like He Yu moved to the front of the group. Joined by Li Heng and Tan Xiaoling, he took his position at the top of the pass. The land dropped away fairly steeply before him, with a single broad stair providing the only easy means of access.
Of course, anything with a cultivation base to speak of wouldn’t be slowed by the surrounding terrain all that much. But the position was defensible enough, if only from the height advantage. Anyone with ranged techniques would rain attacks down on the approaching throng, softening them up as they approached.
Next to him, He Yu could feel Tan Xiaoling shifting with anticipation. He glanced over at her and saw unbridled excitement.
“This is my Way,” she said when she noticed him looking at her. “To fight. To struggle. To push myself against ever challenges until either I, or they, break.”
“Well,” He Yu said, “I’m glad heaven has provided the opportunity.”
“It’s provided one for you, too,” she said. The normal wry humor in those kinds of comments was absent now, and her expression was similarly serious.
He Yu thought on it for a moment. “I suppose you’re right,” he said at length. This was the sort of thing he’d always wanted, wasn’t it? To struggle against insurmountable odds so that he could forge his legend. So he could prove to the world that he was a hero in truth. Although he’d always imagined it to be in some grand duel against a worthy rival, he’d certainly gotten his wish.
“Heng, too,” she said.
“I’m not so certain,” Li Heng began.
“Balance,” Tan Xiaoling said. “If you always defend, you lose.”
Li Heng began to object, but then clapped his mouth shut and simply nodded. He Yu supposed that what Tan Xiaoling was really getting at was deeper. Like one ought to seek how their current situation resonated with their Way, rather than fit their Way to the circumstances. He Yu only hoped he would have sufficient time in the future to examine that particular gem of wisdom.
Far to the west, a flash of light lit the sky, then another. And another. It was the formation barrier at the edge of the sect lands. Soon, the western sky was a pale pink as the red light from the Sunset Empress filtered through the shining formation barrier. Cracks appeared. A sound like a vase shattering against a stone floor crashed over the gathered disciples. The barrier vanished.
Moments stretched to minutes, then to hours. Nothing came. There was no sound, no movement, nothing. Silence and stillness hung over the inner disciples. Then, a shout. Someone nearby pointed down the valley. In the fading eternal twilight cast by the Sunset Empress, He Yu saw them. Beasts and spirits beyond counting surged up the valley towards the sect. Accompanying their advance was an overwhelming sense of exactly two emotions—insatiable want and endless fury.
He Yu summoned his guandao. Lightning crackled along his skin as he activated the Empyrean Ninefold Body Tempering.
Whether he liked it or not, it was time to be a hero.