Shin Ren sits upright beneath the weight of the world.

He can feel how space is warped around him, pressing down with almost ten times the gravity it should possess, and randomly, once per hour (and sometimes twice) one of the lizard-goat things of the pocket-dimension attacks him. They are… surprisingly good at stealth.

He, in turn, sits still, and meditates.

His heart demons float alongside him in astral form, both mere projections he’s trained himself to picture, but both equally real enough to react to the outside world. The Corpse Aflame lies still, smoldering against a rock as if left there by catastrophic incident, while the Smiling Noble lounges comfortably on a seat that Shin Ren envisioned on his behalf. While the Corpse Aflame is surrounded by only ash, the Smiling Noble rests in part on a bed of bodies, a dozen animal corpses cut apart and calcified into a mix of carbon and a strange coral-substance.

“Good. You’ve progressed remarkably.”

Shin Ren opens his eyes, bowing just a bit. “It is only due to your tutelage, master.”

Qu Haolan laughs, rich and vibrant, his translation scroll gone but his words crisp and clear. “My tutelage has mostly been the application of common sense through your thick skull, and the occasional bit of bodily harm. Surely I am not a master worthy of the name.”

This time Shin Ren bows fully, placing his forehead to the ground before cycling his Qi faster through his body to lift himself back up. “If you are not worthy, master, then none may be called so on the surface of the world.”

Qu Haolan grins. “It is good to see you have regained your skills at flattery, student. What a joy it must be, to be so entirely dedicated to brown-nosing.”

This time, it’s Shin Ren that laughs and grins wide. “Better a brown nose than one charred black, though I seem to think I possess neither, thanks in great part to you, master.”

“True! In this, much has improved and even more has changed. Sets my mind at ease that I can at last leave you to your own devices without fearing you’ll kill yourself as spectacularly as last time.”

Shin Ren pauses, looking up at his mentor. “Master? What do you mean?”

Qu Haolan shrugs. “Time for me to be moving on, student of mine. I’ve spent the last few… I dunno, thousand years isolated in this place. I’ve made some gains, it’s true, and I doubt there is one in the world more suited to control of their Domain than I except perhaps your emperor, but as with all things, it is time to accept change, lest I leave myself vulnerable or calcify to nothing. I’ve told you before of others who fell into their Domains, and thus fell out of the world, and were it not for having to make sure you don’t wrap yourself in chains so easily next time, I’m sure I would have joined their ranks.

“Time is hard to gauge, past a certain phase of life. I have seen kingdoms rise and fall, sects be born and die, friends, even those beside me on the path of immortality, who chose to give up. My family! Oh, I saw the birth of so many children, so much life and joy and generations of love until I was but a stranger to their youngest… and now I don’t even know if they still exist. I have felt the passage of time more keenly in a haze of drink and dust and fine pussy, blind to the world and my own joy or misery, than I have in this place. I think, perhaps, that the mind of a human is… limited. But the mind of a place? Even more so. It’s time I went out into the world again, to better explore that balance. To see what has changed, and how I have changed.”

Shin Ren nods, and then…

“Will you take me with you?”

Qu Haolan shakes his head. “Perhaps. More likely not. If your empire is as dramatic as you say, I doubt I will be easily welcome, and I intend to explore parts of the world that would challenge even my strength. Better you have your own life to lead than be dragged along into mine.”

Shin Ren shakes his head, his focus shuddering for a second and requiring a moment to re-center lest the gravity around him crush him further. “Without you, I would be dead. And the life I led before is not one I can return to, not in truth.”

Qu Haolan laughs. “Oh, idiot boy. You still have family! You still have life to live! If you think something in the world needs changing, go change it! Maybe you’re a good cultivator and a bit wiser than you look, but even before my realm and retreat I was centuries older than you. Goodbye is not goodbye if it is not forever. It is simply… “I shall see you when I see you”. Perhaps it will be in a decade, or a hundred years, or a thousand, but so long as you pursue the path of enlightenment and ascension, we may yet see each other again.

“Don’t grieve for what isn’t lost, child. Learn and grow and become, and pull the world with you to someplace better. Fools think the past is a chain, and monsters think the future something to be corralled and predicted lest it bite them. Be better. Go home and make some decisions about the things that matter.”

“...and if I never see you again?”

His master smiles. “Then you never see me again. Such is life. Accept your fortuitous encounter, the inheritance I leave with you, and that things are not less precious simply because they end.”

Shin Ren lets out a breath, and Qu Haolan takes that same moment to remove the gravity on him, warping space back to its normal form.

“Come on. Up you get. Get dressed, and we’ll go.”

“Now?”

“Always better to do things when you’re ready to do them rather than when it’s most comfortable.”

Shin Ren nods, and follows along behind.

The walk to the cave where he first awoke isn’t a long one, in spite of the distance to it. The world warps by his master’s will, and a cave miles and miles away is instead found down only a winding path on the same spire-mountain that they were already on. Such casual uses of power have become more common as Shin Ren gets stronger and, he suspects, as his master awakens more of himself, like stretching after a long nap. He feels how it supports them both, the world all around them feeling utterly comfortable no matter what heights they climb to or what creatures abound. There is a sense of tranquility to the Domain of his master that he hopes to see someday in himself, no matter how bright his flame.

He feels the Smiling Noble scoff at that, and rolls his eyes at one of his meaner halves. Corny or not, it’s a nice thought to have.

He takes up his robes quickly, changing back into his old colors. While the act isn’t entirely comfortable anymore, both due to a stronger physique and the history in the clothes (the only way they could be fixed after how he burnt through them must have been some form of secret technique), it’s surprisingly comforting. A sort of reaffirmation. They do not fit him as they once did, and he can’t help but feel proud of that.

He walks out of his room to the main living space, the only other room in the cave. Qu Haolan is there, smiling softly, hands behind his back, but with a glint in his eyes that Shin Ren has become familiar with. The Corpse Aflame stirs, ready to burn away whatever trap or prank-

But Shin Ren asks of her a bit of quiet, and she listens begrudgingly.

“Now see, apprentice,” he says, “In most cases, when one speaks of inheritance, it could mean anything. When cultivators speak of inheritance, it’s usually some millenia-old superweapon they found in an old temple. Seeing as we are both cultivators, I am, perhaps, not opposed to granting something closer to the latter.”

He pulls his hand from behind him, and shows Shin Ren a polearm and a ring.

“Consider the ring a graduation present. Its capacity should eclipse most common rings, and it will learn your Qi closely, so that it may take weeks for another to be able to access it. It can still be broken by one of higher cultivation, but that’s just life, hmm?”

He holds up the Guandao, and it glints like there is crimson moonlight on its edge, even in the cozy glow of the cave.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

“Of all the moons, Rua has always been my favorite. Lua’s younger sister, rambunctious, orbiting her like an endearingly annoying brat looking to play. Where Lua is slow and majestic, the jade star is only a moon when it wishes to be, Rua is quick, constant, and joyous in her own way.”

He tilts the spear until it rests horizontal, then lets it go. It remains in the air, perfectly still and perfectly balanced. The only decoration on it is the point where staff meets blade, where a sinuous, twisting working of damascus steel has wrapped tight around both, like a pattern of flowing snakes holding the two together. The blade itself is simple, but has the rippling effects of damascus steel, though the color of it is much too red and much too heavy to be steel, and the staff is made of simple, supple wood that looks still alive.

“This… this I would call an inheritance. It was once my own, in an age long past. I outgrew it a while ago, and found myself storing it, that someday I might pass it on to someone. It’s served me well, and has seen more battles than I care to remember. I… aah. I made it when I was much more foolish, and thought war a noble pursuit. It has taken the blood of many who were worthy… and likely many more who were not. But always it has held its edge, and unlike what a Sword Saint might tell you, a blade is just a tool. May you use it more wisely than I, and may its bloodshed protect you from loss and from suffering.”

Shin Ren bows deep, kowtowing to the floor.

He feels a light kick in his shoulder.

“None of that, now. Get up. It’ll stay floating here forever if you don’t get a move on.”

Qu Haolan laughs, but Shin Ren can’t find it in him to do more than smile, bittersweet and painful. He rises, and accepts both gifts.

“Thank you, master.”

He shakes his head. No. He can do better than that.

He looks up at Qu Haolan, smiles with warmth and gratitude, and nods his head. “Thank you. For the gifts, and for saving me.”

“And for my valuable time?”

Shin Ren laughs softly. “Considering you spent a thousand years sitting in a cave, maybe not so valuable. But thank you for it anyways.”

Qu Haolan smiles alongside him. And then, without further ado, he waves a hand, and the world… disappears.

And they are not alone.

The sound of a blade cutting through an apple rings out through the open air.

Shin Ren and Qu Haolan find themselves standing on an open field, the sandy stone of the southern rings and the blaring heat of a still-cooling sunset backlit against the stars above in all their colors. There is little more than stone, distant boulders, and open, flattened ground burned smooth by the sun’s rays.

And a man, sitting atop a rock, cutting an apple.

He brings the knife to his lips, and takes the apple-slice on it into his mouth. And chews.

Shin Ren spins his new guandao into a stance, the blade whirling to face the stranger, his manifested heart demons turning the air fiery shades of harsh crimson and bright yellow even as his own slowly-purpling flame flares along the haft of the weapon.

“Slow,” says the stranger.

He cuts the apple again.

The man is dressed in monk’s attire, made out entirely in white. His clothing is pristine, painting his contours like snow against a mountain, and draped partially over his head, like a habit or hijab. Around his neck is a metallic collar, like a choker made of iron, and there are nails that look like they’ve been hammered through it and into the stranger’s throat. On his hip, he has three swords, each one clad in ornate, gorgeous sheathes of red, green and white-gold, each one of slightly differing lengths. His skin is faintly blue-ish, as if tinted by strange genetics, and is otherwise a rich earthy tan, making for a unique combination of shades.

“Good seeing you again, Haolan. Been a while.”

Qu Haolan, as Shin Ren has reacted, has stayed very, very still.

“To think, you’d be all the way out here. I mean, honestly, I was fucking shocked when I heard what they were sending me out for. Emperor realm cultivator, lost out in the wilderness, they said. Signs pointing to a rogue Domain. Think the only reason they didn’t send their generals over this way is cause I was so much closer. It really is funny, how the Heavens choose to fuck us, isn’t it?”

Qu Haolan continues to say nothing. Even in the growing moonlight, he looks paler than usual, his dark complexion marred by a faintness and the pressure of gritting teeth.

“What? Three and a half thousand years, and you have nothing to say to me?”

“How are you alive.”

The stranger laughs. “I’m alive the same way any old monster is alive. I cut down all that say I should not be.”

“And have you come to cut me down, boy?”

The stranger smiles. “Certainly not before you introduce us.” He pops another slice of apple into his mouth. “Go on then. Who’s the munchkin? Pick up a stray, or did you decide that whatever this is is worth dying for?”

“Had I known that you were still in the world, I’d have emerged sooner to rectify that error, believe me.”

The stranger’s smile softens. He looks… almost disappointed. The apple and the small cutting knife he was using to eat it both vanish into a spatial ring, one of a half-dozen covering his hand.

“Come on, old man. It doesn’t have to go that way. It’s been a long time. If I can let go of what you’ve done, extend a hand in friendship, then surely you can too.”

“Is that what you’re here to do? Extend a hand?”

The stranger goes quiet. For a while, there is only the crackling of Shin Ren’s flames, and the distant chirping of far-away beasts.

“Do you know who your master is, boy?” the stranger asks.

“He’s the man who saved my life,” Shin Ren replies, stance firm, grip tight.

“Would that all our lives were so simple, kid,” he replies. “Would that saving one life made up for taking another.”

“I do not regret the death of your sister,” Qu Haolan says quietly. “I regret only that it had to be done.”

The stranger smiles again, and this time it is both sadder and far colder. “No. You are not a creature of regrets, are you Qu Haolan? Never when it came to your victims.”

“If we are comparing victims, I’m afraid I will come up woefully short to your sister, or to you, so many millenia deep into your blades.”

The man’s smile widens. “Yeah. Probably true. But hey! Great news. I’ve come to offer you a choice.”

The man jumps to his feet, landing in a puff of stone-dust and reaching into a spatial ring to pluck out a sealed scroll. Its wax is golden, its edges inlaid with actual gold and more than a few sparling hints of jade, with more dangling from it on fine strings.

“An invitation to the first ring. That’s the big fuckoff mountain up north, if you hadn’t noticed. You get what every Emperor realm cultivator gets; a chance at dinner with the big E itself, and a job offer. You can keep living out your life exactly as you have been, no strings attached, not even a soul-binding on you… you just have to bend the knee. Say “yes, zaddy Emperor, I’ll do whatever you say.” And it won’t even tell you to do anything except ‘stop’ if you break something important.”

Qu Haolan does not reach for the scroll.

The stranger smiles wider still, until it is a caricature of joy on his face, and idly flicks his wrist. The scroll is tossed aside, the weight as it lands enough to dent the ground and much heavier than the cultivator made it appear.

“Yeah. Not much of a submissive, are ya? You prefer to tango topside, as it were. Which is good, honestly. More fun for me. Cause option two, well…”

One of his hands goes to the topmost of his three swords.

“Option two is I get to do my real job.”

Qu Haolan narrows his eyes, his feet slowly sliding further apart into a stance. Shin Ren mirrors him, cycling his Qi harder, all three of his cores, one fully formed and two imperfect ones, spinning up and pushing energy into his body and into manifestations of Flame that begin to flicker into being.

“I know who you are. Aspirant of the Cut. Wielder of the sword that Cuts its master. Demiurge and conquering warlord. Any empire that would keep you as its dog is an empire rife with fleas in its kennel and rats in its walls.”

“And don’t forget the bodies under its thrones,” the stranger says. “Though you are wrong on one front, actually.

“I’m not an Aspirant anymore.”

Shin Ren feels the world warp, his master’s Dao of Space re-arranging reality so that one point is now another, and it is the only reason he survives. Even from wherever he is placed, perhaps a hundred miles away, surrounded now by trees and foliage, he sees the sky change color on the horizon to the east of him. Like a detonation, like an impossible act of destruction made manifest, he sees a mushroom-shaped cloud form over the tops of the trees, its interior filled with red lightning and falling rain that glows, backlighting the flickering shadows of winged beasts, of scale and claw and glowing stone large enough to be seen even from where he sits…

And he sees it fall apart, turned to ash and unmade as a single green line bisects the horizon.

About six inches to his left, the world opens as a Cut to break the world slices past him and unmakes a canyon into the ground so deep he cannot see the bottom.

A second detonation arises, larger than the first, lasting far longer so that he can feel the impossible weight of the Qi in it, hear thousands of beasts and animals of all kinds rushing past him in a mad dash for survival-

And it is cut again, the Cut this time flying south.

A third time, the world is remade, space itself twisting and warping, and Shin Ren sees a collapsing star of brilliant sandstone light form in the air. From it long, winding tendrils of water fly out, the streams concentrated enough to cut stone and slice the world into a haze of dust beneath it-

A third Cut, this one white as new-fallen snow.

And then there is silence. The night is cold and dark, and full of stars, staring down, unblinking, at Shin Ren, who falls to his knees, alone.

And then a wall of air, superheated and taller than the trees, rushes over him and breaks the world, so that all he knows is the pain of impact and the sensation of flying.