Book 3. The Long Journey. Chapter 70. Creeping Threats.
“They are leaving. They are finally leaving,” a dark-cloaked man, Zakar, uttered soundlessly. He had known something was wrong when he had failed to spot the returning tracks of his eldest son, but he would have never imagined that despite taking precautions and approaching the village from different directions, his five old friends would be effortlessly taken out by a terrifying cluster of shadows. Luckily for him, he had chosen to walk alone and somehow managed to hide his presence from that freak of nature. Yet, he didn’t dare to get closer to the village in fear of being noticed. His only option had been to wait until that freak and the bunch of people he had spotted on the hill left.
“I hope everyone is okay… just before we came close, I could tell there was some kind of monstrous energy being released nearby,” Zakar thought in silence. He hadn’t moved an inch from his spot after that shadow freak made his appearance, so he hadn’t had a chance to confirm whether the village was fine or not. He already suspected that his eldest son had been killed and he had a fairly clear hunch that everyone who had been performing Khatan on the hill was done for, but he couldn’t be sure what had happened to the regular villagers, including his own large family.
“Hurry up and get out of here,” he urged within his heart as he listened to the faraway clattering of carriages that was becoming less and less audible by the moment. He could still bear with it if his oldest son and the village’s warriors died; those who fought and killed needed to be prepared to one day become the ones who end up getting the short end of the stick. On the contrary, if… no, he didn’t even want to think about it. He was sure that his family was fine; no one would go around and destroy villages for no reason at all.
What were minutes, felt like hours to Zakar as he waited for the foreign group to leave for good. He forced himself to stay in place even after the surroundings became silent, but after a few more moment he finally couldn’t bear waiting anymore. He rose to his feet and ran up the high ground in front of him. It took him only ten seconds or so to reach the top, but when he did his body and mind froze. That white mist that lingered over the village… there was no sign of that monstrous energy he had sensed within it, but his instincts were telling him that this white mist was extremely dangerous.
“Are they all…” he muttered helplessly, then noticed a layer of frost going down the slope from the hill to his right. The realization hit him so hard that he almost fainted; that was why this white mist was giving him such a dangerous feeling! Some powerful ice-element spiritual master must have cast a grand spell and what was left there was a mere aftermath.
Dispirited, Zakar began walking down towards the upper layer of the white mist. His eyes rarely displayed emotion to begin with, but now they looked like eyes of a dead person. “Is there no hope…?” he asked aloud and crouched at the lowest point he could safely descend to. He gathered his Qi around his hand and stretched it out, sticking it into the white mist.
“Cold. Terribly cold,” he said weakly and withdrew his hand. He was a practitioner at the peak of the mortal realm, but he felt as if his skin was being pierced by thousands of needles just by sticking his hand into the upper layer of the remnant white mist. He wanted to recover the corpses of his family members and bury them, but he feared that he would die half a minute after entering this area of extreme cold; and that was only if it wouldn’t get colder the lower he got.
“Dead, all dead…” Zakar muttered. He raised his head up and with an absent mind, stared at the dark, starry sky. “O Great Rala, give me strength…” he prayed, thinking about his three wives and many children. He had five daughters and seven sons, the youngest of whom were still babies and toddlers. Yet, now they were all dead. What had they done to deserve a fate so cruel?
“I promise you, I will avenge you…” he said loudly. His expressionless eyes began burning with anger as he recalled the rough image of the people he had seen on the hill. From so far away he hadn’t seen much, but he was sure that many people from the village had been gathered there. It would have been nigh impossible to track the perpetrators if all the clues he had was the image of that cluster of shadows that killed his companions, but as long as those treacherous infidels were found, it would be possible to learn the identity of that spiritual master… no, of that Ice Devil. None else apart from the cursed spawns of the Djinn would be capable of committing such inhumane actions against the defenseless, faithful followers of Rala.
A few minutes later, Zakar calmed down enough to make a reasonable, not base on pure emotion choice. He knew full well that he wasn’t a match for that shadow freak nor for that Ice Devil, so he abandoned the idea of following the tracks of the caravan and attempting an assassination during the night. He wouldn’t be able to deal with those people alone, that much he realized.
“I never thought I’d go back on my own word and end up calling back for that old favor…” he murmured quietly. First, he needed to find a good horse. Then, he would head to the north of the Faren Yimarate, go to see his old friend... and request the blood debt to be paid.
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Early morning, in the Grand Palace of the City of Palee a group of a little over two dozen experts was holding an inconspicuous meeting in one of their private chambers. Amongst the men gathered were three martial masters of the fifth rank and seven martial masters of the fourth rank. In addition to them, there were also two spiritual masters of the fourth rank who boasted exceptional strength. As for the remaining men, they were all martial and spiritual masters of the lower ranks.
“Even if he did that, what do you want us to do?” the long-haired martial master of the fifth rank asked with a snort. “It’s not some run-off-the-mill Yimar we are dealing with, but the strongest Ikarian alive, the Ferocious Tiger General, Mustafa the Humble. Do you think the likes of us can do anything to him? You must be daydreaming,” he said with a snort. So what if Tashakir was killed? Did it matter whether it was done justly or unjustly? It was strong who made the law and he fully intended to obey the instructions Mustafa had given out to everyone.
“You always were a coward, Shai,” the oldest of the three of them said brashly, but he couldn’t deny that he also feared Mustafa. That man wasn’t your common expert; he was a supreme martial master who had walked through the fire and the blood to reach where he was now. However… he couldn’t so easily forsake the way of living he had gotten used to while following Tashakir and before that, while roaming the lands of Eulene on his own. The reforms which Mustafa was putting forth were too extreme; did Mustafa really think he could change this country into a second Makarash within a fortnight?
“Tashakir wasn’t a coward,” the long-haired man, Shai, pointed out with a grim smirk on his face. “He wasn’t a coward, and where did it bring him? Can you seriously claim that he wasn’t a person to let emotions get better of him when his older brother was involved? It’s not hard to imagine him getting angry and releasing killing intent recklessly after Mustafa refused to help with the search. So, tell me. What do you think would happen to you if you started leaking out murderous aura in the same room Mustafa was staying with his son?” he asked, then laughed when no one responded to his question.
Despite their ill feelings towards Mustafa, everyone in the chamber could only reveal helpless looks. If Mustafa was half as protective of his son as Tashakir had been of his older brother, then the fate of such a person could only be described as extremely miserable. There was no way for them to know the truth… but given the circumstances, it looked likely that they really would have no choice but to swallow that bitter pill without complaint.
“You do you, but I’m not planning to stay here,” the oldest of the three of them snorted and declared plainly.
“Karash?” the third of the martial masters of the fifth rank asked with a frown. What was this crazy old man planning this time?
“Relax.” Karash smirked. “I’m not going to act against Mustafa, I’m still not tired of living. But, I’m not staying here either. The policies of Makarash never suited me. I’m going to leave and go to the Guode Yimarate to offer my services to Yimar Maar,” he explained, his words causing the eyes of many of those present to lit up. If the old man Karash was doing that, then they would love to go with him! In the end, they were all much too old to change their habits. They could force themselves to live by Mustafa’s rules, but they wouldn’t find it pleasurable.
“You really think it will be that easy?” Shai asked provokingly. “We are all officially enlisted to the forces of the Faren Yimarate. To leave, we would need to request it and give a reason. Guess what Mustafa is going to do if you tell the official something silly like ‘I don’t like the new rules, please let me leave’, huh?” he questioned angrily, failing to understand why Karash and apparently quite a few of their friends were inclined to take this risk just to live like they had been living so far. Sure, they wouldn’t be able to do some things they used to under Mustafa’s rule, but it wouldn’t be so bad!
Karash rolled his eyes and asked resignedly. “Can you please decide whether you are smart or if you are an idiot? Who would give them a reason like that? It will be enough to make something up. Since Mustafa is pushing those reforms so quickly, he probably wants to make all the undesirable people pack up and leave on their own. He should be happy if we do like he expects us to and go away,” he argued confidently and when he saw that the expression on Shai’s face sank, he smirked contentedly.
“…” the third of the present martial masters of the third rank sighed heavily. “Fine, I’m convinced. I’m getting out of here, Mustafa’s rules aren’t for me,” he said calmly and thus, triggered a wave of comments of support from the rest of those present. Apart from Shai and one other man, everyone was behind the idea of going to the Guode Yimarate.
“Eh…” Shai also let out a heavy sigh. If all of those guys left, then their followers and friends would leave too. He didn’t mind the new rules that much, but he didn’t want to part with all the people he knew and liked. “Fine, fine! I give up. I’m going too,” he said while spreading his arms helplessly.
Karash smiled, but the look on his face changed drastically when out of nowhere, an unfamiliar presence appeared amongst the two dozen of them. His first reaction had been to rouse his Qi and attack, but when a wave of unnaturally calm and indifferent killing intent washed over him, his body froze, unable to move even an inch. His intuition was yelling at him that if he moved even a little, he would die; since he was in this state with his huge amount of experience on many battlefields, it was needless to say that his companions in the chamber were much worse off.
“Just calm down a little, I’m not here to fight…” a black-cloaked, hooded man said indifferently. “If I wanted to kill you, I would have already done so,” he added, a very slim thread of amusement present in the tone of his voice. However, despite him withdrawing his killing intent, those present refused to not only move, but make any quick movements with their eyes. They had truly been terrified to the very marrow of their bones.
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“So annoying, I should have held back,” the black-cloaked man complained unhappily. “Eh, whatever. I will only need to listen to some nagging if it fails,” he mused wordlessly. His Shadows had already given a lot of information to his teacher, so what he was doing now was merely a bonus.
“Either way, listen well because I’m not going to repeat myself,” he began saying in an offhanded manner. “As you guessed, Mustafa is getting rid of everyone who can potentially oppose his new rule. Yet, he isn’t stupid enough to actually let the martial and spiritual masters who disagree with him go and become a hindrance in the future. He intends to eliminate everyone who tries to leave the garrison of this city… and as for you, he will probably have you all disappear even if you do stay. He is a careful man, that Mustafa. He won’t let random variables get in his way,” he commented, appearing nearly as if he was speaking to himself as he didn’t bother to look at any of the men in the chamber. Were it not for the aura of power emanating from him, those present would have laughed him off as a madman, but as it was they weren’t willing to as much as a whimper.
“You know, now that I think about it, it’s pretty funny,” the hooded man added whimsically. “That whole Mustafa is seen as a benevolent ruler by his own people, but when needed he is more ruthless than anyone else,” he said with a laugh and this time, he smiled contentedly. Finally, the look in those men’s eyes changed! Since it was going to well, he could as well strike the iron when it was still hot.
“With that in mind, even if you do flee this country it’s pretty likely that Mustafa will find a way to get rid of you. I doubt there would be anyone daring to offend him over a few average experts like you, so your only choice is to either hide or flee far away… or…”
“Or, you can always join the conflict that will soon emerge and secure a position for yourselves. You know that Mustafa’s son is currently traveling with only a few White Guard escorts, no…? I coincidentally know that he is heading from a place called Ulme Village to Tuln Village in a small caravan of about three hundred people… I’m sure that Yimar Maar and Arakar will be extremely pleased with whoever delivers them such a precious hostage…” he said suggestively, a clear smile present on his face.
“Well, that’s pretty much it. What you are going to do with this information is entirely up to you,” he finished with a laugh, then dissipated into shadows and left the chamber.
It took the two dozen men a while to recover after this strange, abrupt interruption. Since the black-cloaked man had appeared out of nowhere and after speaking for a while, disappeared into thin air, the whole experience felt surreal to them. Yet, the cold sweat pouring down their whole bodies was more than enough of a proof that what they had heard and felt was definitely real. Good Rala, just where did monstrosity come from? To cause martial masters of the fifth rank to feel helplessly terrified… was it an incarnation of a Djinn that had come here from the deserts of Arkaria?
“Uh,” Shai let out a strange sound. He coughed a few times, then asked hesitatingly. “So… what are we going to do?”
Karash and the other martial master of the fifth rank both groaned. What was up with this ridiculous situation? What were they supposed to do?
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Around the same time, in the Capital City of the Guode Yimarate, in the City of Guodu.
“Huuh, it looks like they will be in a reasonable amount of trouble even without us doing much,” the black-masked, black-cloaked old man mused aloud. He had just received the report from his pupil and now, he was regretting that he had chosen to come here first instead of keeping a watch on those boys personally. He would have loved to see that grey-white mist he just read about! He very much wanted to see if that youngling under his pupil’s orders wasn’t talking crap when he claimed the spell to have crossed the threshold of the mortal realm by a wide margin.
“I guess I will wait for a bit and see what happens,” he said carefreely and randomly grabbed the large jar of wine by the handle, then took a few large hauls directly from it. “Ha, it’s not bad but it can’t compare to the grape wine from the south,” he commented with a laugh. “I would have loved to wait here, but startling him too much might prove troublesome…” he added with a sigh.
“Oh well, good luck to both participants,” he said in a tone that once again turned merry. He fiddled with the grey envelope in his hand for a little longer and before leaving, left it amongst many other documents on the table, right in front of the empty armchair.
Moments later, a white-clothed man entered his workroom. As usually, he intended to sort through the paperwork in the early morning and have rest of the day for the remaining matters. However, his eyebrows rose up when he saw one… no, two small changes on the table compared to yesterday. One, the jar with wine that he had a servant bring every night was placed in a different spot than usual. Second, there was a grey envelope on top of his papers with a few simple letters written on top of it.
‘To Yimar Maar, From The Hopefully-To-Be-Amused Spectator.’
Somewhat intrigued, Yimar Maar first scanned the envelope with his aura, then dropped one drop of a colorless liquid on top of the envelope. The liquid began spreading through the grey paper, showing no special reaction… only to suddenly stir up, change in color to bright pink and from a sentence.
‘If I wanted to kill you, Crystal Life wouldn’t have helped you.’
For the first time in over a hundred years, Yimar Maar felt a shiver of fear run down his spine. Crystal Life was one of the best known poison-detecting potions; if there was no poison, it would dissipate after a few seconds and if there was a poison, it would turn into a pitch-black, sticky liquid. He would never have imagined it was possible for another potion that directly counter-reacted to Crystal Life to exist, and not to mention those words that oozed with an almost playful arrogance! Who in the world had left this envelope in his workroom?
After hesitating for a second, Yimar maar reached out and opened the envelope. Full of expectation, he took out a piece of paper from within. However, one of his eyes twitched as a hard to contain anger swelled up within him. On the fairly large piece of paper, only a few words were written in the middle.
‘Be careful, or else you will get your asshole drilled.’
For fuck's sake, what kind of joke was that?! Was this person screwing with him? What was the point of sneaking into his private chamber and leaving an envelope that could counteract Crystal Life? Had that person done that only to aggravate him with a low-class provocation?
“No, just be calm, think about it,” Yimar Maar reminded himself. He breathed out, sat down and poured himself some of his favorite wine; unsurprisingly, he could tell that the jar was less full than always, but he didn’t care about it much. “For that person to sneak here while avoiding all Palace guards, it must mean he is extremely skilled at hiding his presence. Someone like that wouldn’t be bored enough to deliver random letters to random people… he told me to be careful. What can I fear as I am now?” he questioned himself one step a time, trying to find the correct answer to the question that was hiding from him behind a layer of fog.
“The Great Prophet is wary of me and thinks my ambitions are too high, that’s why he sent Arakar to oversee me here. Does this danger come from those two? Or, could it be that that person is suggesting a conflict between me and Mustafa will erupt? I don’t really care what my people do as long as they pay their taxes and obey my words, but he is much more of a tyrant who doesn’t accept anyone with different views to his own. In a sense, he oppresses his people thoroughly… but I must admit, it does yield results. His Yimarate is the richest and has the strongest army; and not only that, he himself is extremely powerful and he has many supreme martial and spiritual masters following him. He had been keeping to himself for the past century, building up his power… does it mean he is finally ready to act?”
Realistically thinking, Yimar Maar could only see those two camps as potential threats to him. However, he also didn’t want to be blindly fixated by the vague… and a rather annoying message left to him by a mysterious person of some kind.
“I will increase the surveillance and request to be briefed in on all the reports, even those less important ones,” he decided swiftly. Since he had no way of knowing what was what, he could only try to be more vigilant and carry on as normal. In the end, he was much too old to turn paranoid from one silly incident. Had he been so easy to shake, he would have never become one of the most powerful, if not outright most powerful Yimar with his personal power and influence reaching the levels of the weaker two of the three Grand Yimars from the mainland.
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“Do we even need to stop here?” Arslan asked quietly as to not wake up Johan, Sarah nor Albert who had all fallen asleep. They had been traveling for about two hours and they had reached the area Albert had told them about, but since they were all in the carriages already wouldn’t it be better to go all the way to the Tuln Village?
“Indeed,” Jasmine replied in a soft voice. “But from what I can see, this place will be perfect to make a camp. The river is wide and shallow here, so everyone will be able to wash up too. We will give them some proper clothes then and make sure they look manageable. Also, there’s the matter of healing the remaining wounds the villagers have. Sirius, Kasha and Laien might have taken care of the worst injuries, but I doubt they had enough strength to spare to fix everyone up perfectly,” she explained with a calm smile. It was true that going straight to the Tuln Village would be more convenient, but they also needed to consider the comfort of those they were bringing along.
“I don’t want to sound like Sirius, but…” Jasmine added wryly. “People who are healthy, well fed and clean are much easier to manage. Who knows when and where a place so perfect will appear? Since the chance to provide all those things to those villagers is present, then there’s no point concerning ourselves with a day of delay here or there,” she said with a smile. Arslan had been taught the basics of managing the army and the country back in Makarash, but it was obvious and fully expected that he was lacking in the real-life experience.
“I understand,” Arslan said somewhat formally, still not as used to talking with Jasmine as with Reian. Yet, when he saw Jasmine nod in approval with a clear smile on her face, he warmed up to her a little bit more. Of course, he was happy when someone like Jasmine acknowledged him.
“Do we wake them up…?” Arslan wondered aloud as he glanced at Laien and Yin, who were both engrossed in meditation while sitting in the back corner of the carriage. “No,” he shook his head, answering his own question. Those two would probably be angry with them if they disturbed their training for no reason, so it was better to wait for them to ‘wake up’ naturally.
“Little master,” Jasmine brought up with a smile. “How about you help me and Reian manage the villagers? It would also be good for you to talk with as many of them as possible. Their needs, their worries, their expectations, their past… just talking with them will become a valuable experience to you as the future ruler of Makarash,” she suggested straightforwardly, keeping in mind the goal of this journey they had set out onto.
“Yea-… I mean, yes,” Arslan began replying in his usual way, but managed to bite his tongue and correct himself just in the nick of time. He revealed a somewhat awkward smile and blushed a little; he didn’t want Jasmine’s good opinion of him to turn for worse. However, what startled him was that Jasmine chuckled quietly in response to his stutter and hurried correction of his words.
“I appreciate the concern, but there’s no need for you to speak to me formally, little master. You aren’t one of my disciples, after all,” Jasmine said amiably. She always required full discipline and formality from her new disciples in order to quickly shape their relationship and if needed, temper the more rebellious ones, but there was no need for her to apply the same to Arslan.
Although being told so surprised Arslan a bit, he smiled happily right afterward and said wryly. “I will, but only if you stop calling me ‘little master’ and simply call me by my name.”
The shrewd response of Arslan’s caused Jasmine to open her eyes wide, then to cover her mouth with her hand as she muffled a laugh. This boy, no wonder Reian liked taking care of him so much! He really was an exceptional youth, worthy of being Mustafa’s son. “Fine, then let us both drop the formalities,” she agreed merrily, seeing no reason not to go along with Arslan’s wish.
“He’s already got you wrapped around his little finger, mm?” Reian pointed out from the side. He couldn’t help but chuckled when Jasmine sent him a half-angered half-amused glare; his teacher looked really cute when she was frustrated like that.
“Why don’t you start setting up the tents?” Jasmine asked with a slight warning resounding in her voice. She didn’t mind being teased by Reian… ugh. Yes, it was this awareness that she no longer minded it that worried her. Honestly, an old granny like her wasn’t suited for him! When would he finally understand that and stop courting her?
Reian smiled at Jasmine, opting not to say any unnecessary words. He got up and quietly left the carriage with Jasmine and Arslan following right behind. There was a long day ahead of them, but if they handed it correctly then it wouldn’t be as mundane as it might have seemed to be.