Hector snorted. “You overestimate things. If the Empire really wanted us dead at all costs, then we wouldn’t even be standing right here. The truth of the matter is that this discovery of ours is inconsequential to their plans in the long-run.”
Allen frowned. “Is it because we have no proof of their cooperation?”
“Not only that, but think about how things would develop even if we could prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt.” the elder said. “The Empire already stands isolated from most of other factions and they have always made their intentions clear - complete world domination. Even if this single case of cooperation with necromancers swings the neutral stance of sects like the Crystal Sky Sect and the Hallowed Valley Sect, it’s an eventuality they’re probably ready for in any case.”
Domeron sighed. “This still doesn’t make any sense, though. Even if that’s the case, what could be so valuable in this isolated region for them to risk a war?”
“The inheritance.” Red said.
“They’re still on about that? After seven years?” Allen seemed angry. “I thought that they were the ones who won in the first place!”
There was a silence following those words. The young master looked around at everyone’s faces, noticing their conflicted expressions.
Allen frowned in confusion. “Are you telling me they didn’t win? How could that even be possible?”
Domeron shrugged. “It’s a good question. I suppose if you wanted to know, we would need to ask the real winner.”
The young master seemed to realize something, and he looked back at Red. “Did you-”
“Stop!” Hector slapped the back of Allen’s head, cutting his question short. “Do not make that question, or else it might truly mean our deaths!”
Allen rubbed the back of his head and looked at Hector in confusion. “Why do you say that?”
“I know how the Empire works. Their clairvoyants can learn about things through the threads of fate without even having to be there to listen to it. The reason they are still so sneaky about their methods is likely just because they don’t want to draw attention to the matter, since they can’t be certain about where this inheritance ended up. If we give them confirmation, though, there will be nothing holding them back any longer.”
Allen glanced at Red. “But…”
“Don’t ask it!” Hector raised his hand as if to hit the young master again. “We shouldn’t even be talking about the matter in the first place!”
Red remained silent through all this discussion. It was obvious that over seven years of living together, people like Hector, Domeron, and Goulth would have been able to pick up on the youth’s fast progress and other peculiarities no matter how hard he tried to hide it. By then, connecting the dots with the inheritance wasn’t that hard.
Red was just thankful that they were smart enough to not pry, or else he didn’t know what would have happened to all of them. After all, he didn’t know if the spirit’s anti-clairvoyance shield worked on those close to him, too.
“Fine! I get it!” The young master nodded. “But If we can’t talk about it, how are we going to plan things?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Hector shook his head. “We lie low and hope they eventually give up, and in case they don’t, we prepare our exit plan.”
“It will be risky to leave town right now.” Domeron said. “They will definitely be expecting it.”
“I have my contacts. In any case, we have some favors to call upon if things truly get that dire.” Hector said.
“Righ!” Allen seemed to be reminded of something. “Can’t you ask the Crystal Sky Sect to help Rog?”
“What did I tell you already?!” Hector glared at him. “There’s no cure for this infection! The only thing we can do is delay it, and I’m not wasting this favor on keeping the inevitable from happening!”
“Wasting?!” Allen seemed outraged. “How is it a waste to save one of our fellow sect members?! Someone who has been serving you for decades already?!”
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“Stop being ignorant, brat! If we die here, Rog is not coming out alive either, so what’s the point of using this favor on that? Not to mention, do you think they would send a powerful cultivator to treat a mortal for gods knows how long it would take?”
The young master gritted his teeth in anger. “Maybe if you used that favor to help Narcha back then, we wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place.”
“You!” Hector raised his hand up as if to slap Allen.
“What’s this about now?” a weak voice cut short their discussion.
They all turned around and saw Rog laying down on the table with his eyes open, looking at the two of them.
Allen smiled. “Rog, you’re awake!”
The hunter grunted. “Just barely. Now help me get up here, kid.”
The young master nodded and walked forward, helping the man sit up on the table.
“I heard my name and woke up to an argument.” Rog said, looking around at the room. “I’m back in the sect already? Gods, it feels like just yesterday I was puking up blood while being carried around.”
“It was yesterday.” Red said.
“It was?” Rog frowned. “Well, you’re pretty fast then, kid. I’m more surprised we managed to return with our lives, though.”
“Our pursuers were probably too scared to continue giving chase.” Red said. “We got lucky.”
Rog coughed as he adjusted his position. “… No such thing, kid. I’m sure they had good reason to be scared of you.”
The youth frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nevermind, I will…” Rog trailed off, feeling confused. Then he looked down at his empty sleeve. “Oh right, I lost an arm… Wait, shit! I’m infected! We need to-”
“We know.” Domeron cut him off. “Your situation is stable for now, though.”
Rog smiled slightly. “Ah, I’m glad to hear it… So what was this discussion about?”
Allen hesitated. “… I wanted to ask for help from the Crystal Sky Sect to treat you.”
Rog frowned. “Well, that’s stupid.”
Hector snorted. “I told him so!”
The young master seemed unconvinced. “What is the other option? Are we supposed to just watch you rot away and become a zombie without trying everything we can to save you? Are you even listening to yourselves?! How can you even be comfortable with making a decision like that?!”
There was a silence after those words. It was obvious why this was the right and logical decision for all of them, but Allen was never one to take the cold-hearted nature of the cultivation world for granted. Even if he knew why things were the way they were, he never accepted it.
This made him a good, if naïve, person, but it also made him a terrible cultivator, regardless of his talents. It was something Hector had been trying to beat out of him for many years already, to no definite success.
Rog, however, just smiled at him. “I’m too old… and you’re still too young.”
Allen frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Look at my arm, kid.” The hunter pointed at his stump. “It’s gone.”
“There are ways to heal that!”
“There are.” Rog nodded. “But if that’s the case, why did Domeron never do it?”
This question made Allen go silent.
There was indeed a way to heal it, but the new limb would be formed without any spirit veins in it. This meant that compared to the rest of the body, this new limb would always be a weak point, much more so for cultivators like Rog. At that point, this arm or leg would become more of a hindrance than anything else in combat.
There were ways to recover a limb with all of its Spirit Veins, but it was exceedingly rare, and far beyond the means of their sect at the moment.
Rog shook his head. “I’m never going to shoot a bow again, kid. I’m useless, even more than I was before.”
“You’re not useless!” Allen gritted his teeth. “You’re still the most knowledgeable hunter in the region! We will still need you in the future!”
The hunter smiled. “No, you won’t. Once you break into the Lesser Ring Realm, you will be more perceptive than I could ever be with my weak senses. My knowledge will be useless to you.”
“Who knows when I’m going to break through?! We still need you right now!”
Rog sighed. “I don’t want to.”
Allen was at a loss for words. “… Y-You don’t want to?”
“I do not.” He shook his head. “The only joy I had in life was hunting with my bow. Now, I can’t even do that, so what’s the point of going out there to the forest? It will just remind me of what I can’t do.”
“So what, you just intend to wait here for your death?”
“I do.” Rog nodded. “Always expected it to happen one day, so I’m not too sad myself. That being said, I’m too old and tired, kid, and one of the only reasons why I still liked going out there was just taken from me. Now… I just want to rest.”
Allen fell silent at those words, looking down and clenching his fists. A few seconds later, he turned around and walked out of the room without saying anything else.
Rog looked over at Red, who was staring at him the entire time.
The hunter grunted. “What, do you feel guilty? It’s not really your fault.”
“I know.” Red nodded. “The mere fact we came out alive after fighting against tree ghouls is a miracle… I still wish I could have done more.”
Rog shook his head and got up, walking towards the youth with unsteady steps. “You’ve done enough.”
He patted Red’s shoulders before walking away and leaving the room.
No one spoke anything else for several minutes after that.
Hector was the one to break the silence. “You lot don’t need to be so down. Things are not over yet.”
Red frowned. “What do you mean?”
“The imperials.” the elder said. “If they think that we will take all of this laying down, then they have another surprise coming for them.”
Domeron seemed surprised. “I thought you didn’t want to fight the Imperials.”
Hector grunted. “I don’t. Doesn’t mean I won’t make them pay when they attack one of our own.”
There was a tone of hostility and violence Red rarely felt in the old man’s words. For some reason, he felt confident that whoever was behind attacking Rog would definitely not get away with their lives from this.