You can expect nothing and still be disappointed.

-Ancient Evernest Proverb.

II-30

Taking a Name (IV)

Wei's transition from the viewing platform to the Midnight Sage's training ground came amidst a swell of swirling Spatial Essence.

At once, another dimension expanded before him, spilling out in a rolling tide. His Omniscience grasped the entirety of his environment. Birds chirped. A vast, open view of dense greenery, spilling down the slopes of a many-tiered mountain, became the distant horizon for him.

Wei found himself standing in the middle of a training yard filled with broken dummies—the old kind found on Evernest. Home. Lanterns swayed above, dangling from rusted metal chains. He was inside a hollowed mountain redecorated to resemble a cultivator's sanctuary. A still pond splashed behind him, while weapon and armor stands littered the space to his left. To his right, only a folded bedroll was propped against a table that held a small tea set. Two wooden stools were the only furniture here.

It appeared the Sage was a man who lived frugally. Without distraction. Good. Wei could respect that in another man.

But then two other points of interest caught his attention. The training ground was marred and marked with forceful steps, the kind of indentations a foot-cultivator might leave when practicing their footwork. Wei’s Omniscience gave him insight beyond what most mortals could fathom. There was something wrong about the faded footprints—an imbalance to the footwork. Like the Sage was trying to keep himself standing, grinding into the ground rather than flowing from place to place.

Then, to the back of the cave, just a few steps away from the pound, was a veritable hill of alcohol. A chaotic hill of bottles—empty, half-full, and untouched—spilled across the ground. Beers, spirits, and liquors of every kind were tossed into the heap without care

The young master stared. A second later, the Shell joined him. Neither one said anything.

“Perhaps he is of the West Drunkard Style,” the Shell mused.

"The Midnight Sage will be with you shortly," came a voice from behind Wei. He turned to see an Attendant, though it was not the same one that had sent him here. Wei offered the Attendant a polite nod but focused his Omniscience further, continuing to probe his surroundings. The tea was cold, but the stools retained a faint warmth, indicating recent use.

Judging from a twin set of footprints, they left through the mouth of the cave.

“I can go out and greet him myself if that would be to his convenience,” Wei said.

“Negative,” the Attendant replied. “The Sage will not appreciate a potential intrusion at this moment.”

“Understood,” Wei replied. But he didn’t waste time idling. Instead, he immediately got to work refining his knowledge of last night’s ciphering lesson. Rafael had spent the better part of the previous evening teaching him how to create an Oculus, and Wei wished to see if it worked as intended.

Pulling out his Platonic Scalpel, the young master began carving. He traced the signs slowly, his Enlightenment ensuring his memory of Rafael’s instructions was near perfect. A common mortal might have taken hours to trace all the intricate connections, but Wei finished the Reference Circuits with a flourish of strokes.

In under a minute, the young master had created an Oculus. The glowing eye flared into being, licking up residual light to power itself, and as the was connected to his Aspect of Perception, it gave his senses another point of projection.

"This is most pleasing," his Shell declared. “It will be to our benefit if we can use this in tandem with my helmet.”

He spent some time controlling the Oculus around, willing it to fly around the space. It moved according to his whims, and when he released it, he found it idling in place. Rafael hadn’t yet taught him how to carve logics into the construct to have it patrol on its own or adhere to a set of guidelines, but this was a good start.

"Please do not attempt to spy on the Midnight Sage," the Attendant said flatly. "He will not appreciate that."

"Of course not," Wei replied with a polite nod. "I am merely testing one of my new techniques. My working will not leave this cave."

The attendant acknowledged this with a small nod, but as Wei spoke, he felt an urge to further push his capabilities. Placing the platonic scalpel back within his being, he drew it out again and let a gust of Divine Wind carry it away out from the mouth of the cave. It shot off, masked by the light, and Wei began performing a footwork drill, flowing from stance to stance as the winds danced around him, causing the celestial flames they carried to mask what he was doing.

It required more of his focus to wield the scalpel using the essences he controlled, but he managed to summon a celestial gale that carried the cipher-inscribing instrument far into the distance.

Seconds later, Wei’s Platonic Scalpel was 500 meters away, slicing over rolling green waves of descending treetops. As he continued practicing fundamental footwork drills, he began reconstructing another Oculus remotely.

This time, it took him nearly four minutes, but the result was still a success. So much so that both his Omniscience and Enlightenment advanced twice.

Enlightenment > 53

Omniscience > 51

[36/100] Aspect Advancements to Core Ascension

As he connected to the new Oculus, he discovered that it allowed him to explore the surrounding territory, extending his awareness far beyond the limits of his Omniscience.

“It truly is an extension of our gaze,” the Shell proclaimed.

However, as the Oculus flew upon the trees, Wei noticed that at around three kilometers, the environment looped back to where it was. And he rounded the space several times before understanding.

“This is a circular realm,” Wei muttered. “A sub-dimension.” A few back on Evernest were capable of creating such spaces, but they seemed to be impossibly common in the Claimed Hells.

He wondered how much Essence it cost to sustain such an environment.

His thoughts were interrupted by a bout of noise—what sounded like vicious arguing. A low, slurring voice interrupted by a pitched, sobbing one.

Wei hesitated, considering his next steps, but curiosity prevailed over caution. He directed the Oculus to slip through the dense foliage, using the trees’ crowns to mask his approach. Wei moved with caution, approaching the disturbance slowly. Another benefit the Oculus had was how it barely gave off any spiritual resonance—made it harder to detect.

"A path becomes clear to us," his Shell declared. "We can use the ciphers to enhance our active abilities. We already have a growing font of power; now we require greater finesse and a resource for deception."

As Wei’s Oculus slipped out through the between a dense cluster of leaves, he found himself looking down at a man clad in dark cultivator robes leaning hard against the tree while a younger man—someone Wei’s age, it seemed—screamed at him.

Both shared similar features—unkempt beards and incandescent, candle-like hair. But where the Sage was wore messy and barely stitched robes, the boy had a nice suit with a flower pinned on his right breast pocket. They were also contrasts of emotion.

The Sage leaned against the tree, seeming resigned about something. The boy, meanwhile, was on the verge of a meltdown. Another difference was how Wei could sense the boy’s Class Specialization. Su Jian Tian Painter of Demons: Lv. 47. The Sage, however, lacked any specialization and only gave off an estimated Essence Level of Lv. 95.

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Only 95. Wei frowned. In the short time since his arrival in the Claimed Hells, he was already catching up to the Sage. How long had the Midnight Sage been here? Was he suppressing his spiritual power? Or was Wei advancing far faster, his System enabling him to achieve what others could not through Class alone?

"Assume nothing," the Shell advised. "Listen. Learn. Understand. This is a den of lies, but between lies, there must be a foundation for truth. Deception is for one's enemies, not oneself. Focus your perception. Use your senses. Listen to what they’re saying."

Wei heeded the advice, funneling some of his free points into amplifying his Perception.

Free Points: [50]

Awareness > 667

The faint murmur of voices sharpened, becoming clearer.

"You can’t do this, do you understand me? I will not watch you die. I will not!" the Su Jian Tian cried. “This is my fault! Mine alone! I will bear this burden.”

“You are my son,” the Sage said, his voice slurring. He reached out with a trembling hand, but the boy slapped it away, grabbing the older man by his collar.

"Listen to me!" the boy shouted. "You spent my entire life telling me how much of a disappointment I was, how terrible I was at everything. And now you want to be my father? Now you want to save me from my own mistakes? I will not let you. I will not!"

The Sage’s response was weak. He tried to slap the boy, but the blow was slow, sloppy. The boy easily dodged it, and the Sage toppled into the grass, slurring incoherently.

Wei watched, stunned, wondering if this was an illusion or some elaborate deception for prying eyes.

"This cannot be the Midnight Sage," his Shell declared, but Wei could not deny what he was seeing.

The boy stood over his father, breathing heavily, his teeth clenched. "It’s done," he said. "I’m going to call this off. I will go to her and surrender myself. There are worse fates. I could be like mother. Or sister. This is done. I despise you. But you are still my father—I will not watch you die.”

Suddenly, the Sage lunged, blasting off the ground and pinning his son to the tree by the neck. Jian Tian froze. Wei expected violence—brutality—but though the Sage’s face twisted with fury, the moment passed. His expression broke, leaving only exhaustion.

Awkwardly, tenderly, the Sage wiped the tears from the boy’s eyes. "I am no good father," he said, his voice low. "And you are no good son. But we are all we have of each other now. And if it kills me—even if you are forced to be..." He let out a disgusted snort. "A serpent’s concubine—we must give all that we have to deny our fate, to deny the heavens."

The boy shook his head, tears spilling anew. "No, Father. I..."

"It doesn’t matter if you understand," the Sage interrupted, patting his son’s cheek. "That’s the way it’s going to be. And it isn’t up to you. Not while I’m still your father. Not while you still belong to my sect."

With that, the Sage released his son and turned away. The boy collapsed to his knees, sobbing quietly. “I…”

“I will see this done. I will find a way. If it is possible, I will do you this one right,” the Sage said. And then, a thread of Essence struck him—a message. From the Attendant, Wei realized.

Discomfort swelled in Wei’s chest as he realized he had intruded on something deeply private. Quietly, he dispelled his Oculus and returned his focus to the courtyard, kneeling, and pretending to meditate as the Sage made his slow, drunken way back.

"It seems that everywhere we go, fathers fail their sons," the Shell remarked.

Wei gave no response. He had no intention of thinking about William Yu.

It took another ten minutes for the Sage to arrive. When he did, the stench of alcohol was stronger than ever. Wei clenched his fists, fury burning in his chest. Had this fool stopped to drink again instead of coming straight back? Had he forgotten all decorum?

The Sage staggered through the mouth of his mountain home, swaying on unstable legs as he sang an off-key tune. It was a bawdy ballad about a literate man known as the Yellow Fox and his attempts to bed the Moon Maiden—which ended with him sleeping with an ape somehow as the Moon Maiden was revealed to be an illusion.

It wasn’t an appropriate song to be singing in esteemed company. Or any company for that matter.

Finally, he came to stand before Wei, taking him in with a crooked stare. Wei studied him in return, rising to his feet from where he knelt and offered a salute. “Greetings, Ascended Elder. This one is Young Master Wei An Wei, come to bid you an auspicious outcome to your duel.”

"So," the Sage slurred. "You’re the one who claimed to be a Cultivator. Tell me, are you a...’ He hiccuped. ‘Where are you from?”

“”Evernest,” Wei replied, trying to remember if he already mentioned this earlier.

The Sage’s expression softened, replaced by a flicker of grief. "Ah, yes, I... You’ve heard of—"

"Yes," Wei interrupted coldly. "I survived it."

The Sage sobered instantly. His eyes widened in shock. "You survived?"

"Ascended right on time, eh?" The Sage let out a laugh, bitter and surprised. "The heavens must have smiled on you if you managed to make it off our world just in time. Well, more like the hells have mercy. Tell me, of what sect are you?"

Wei’s winced. "I’d rather not say."

The Sage snorted. "It can’t be that bad," he muttered. "It’s not like you’re one of those Drowned Sky bastards. Can’t be worse."

"You’re right," Wei replied slowly. "It can’t be worse."

The Sage paused as realization dawned on him. “Wait… you’re saying…”

“Yes,” Wei said, getting this out of the way. “Quite so.”

A disbelieving chuckle escaped the Sage’s lips. "I can’t believe it. Of all the people to escape our realm’s destruction, it had to be someone like you."

"If it’s any consolation," Wei said bitterly, "everyone else is dead. Including all those I know and love."

The Sage considered Wei’s words for a moment, then smirked. "You’re right. That is a consolation."

Something inside the young master tightened. Oh, this meeting was inching ever closer to delicious bloodshed. It seemed he might find out of the Ascended Elder’s mettle one way or another.

The Sage gestured for Wei to sit on one of the stools. "Come, come, then. I’ve been a poor host so far. And if you are the scion of my most hated enemy, old customs must still be maintained."

Wei hesitated, his thoughts clouded with anger and disappointment. But a cultivator was a cultivator, and there were so few of them in this place. He sat. He watched as the Sage grumbled, pulling tea leaves out from his own shadows—a technique accompanied by a Strange Essence Wei had never experienced before.

Then, the Sage snapped his fingers, and shadows began to writhe within the teapot. Tendrils of darkness churned the water, heating it to a simmer. But Wei detected something else—a faint tinge of poison.

"Poison?" Wei sneered.

The Sage shook his head. "Not poison. Alcohol.”

“In tea,” Wei said, exploding up from his seat. “This… this is sacrilege!”

“Sacrilege tastes good,” the Sage grinned.

“Have you taken leave of your senses?” Wei sputtered. “Is—is—” He pointed at the bottles. “Are you just a drunk?”

“I’m also bitter and likely to die soon,” the Sage replied.

What was this? Wei expected to meet a champion cultivator, instead… instead…

“So.Tell me how your sect was destroyed. Spare no detail. I’d like something to smile about before Silt cuts me down later.”

The outrage in Wei thinned to a finely refined hate. “No.”

The Sage continued. “How did the Matriarch die for that matter? Painfully? Humiliatingly? I remember her. I remember I had two brothers. Two brothers that she castrated and left defiled through her foul arts. Hung them outside our cave during the Yellow Sand Siege. I remember them calling out to me.” His gaze met Wei’s. “Did she ever tell you about that, boy? About who she was.”

“I know who she was,” Wei said, a drumbeat of roaring thunder building in Wei. “And you mind your words. I came seeking guidance from an Ascended Elder and to offer due courtesy. You have done nothing but spit on my good will.”

“I spit on the very notion of your existence,” the Sage sneered. Still, reach poured a cup for Wei and shoved it over. “I see her features on you. Her, and that… lackey she decided passed for a breeder. So. Tell me, how ugly was her end.”

Wei’s insides were raw with building force. He needed to hurt this man. Needed to… but he wouldn’t be provoked into throwing the first blow. This was still the Heights. And there were rules.

Rules that could be used against his foe.

“Tell me,” Wei asked. “What kind of concubine will your son become? Do you imagine that? About his fate when you embarrass yourself later.”

The hateful glee drained out of the Sage’s expression. Wei tested the man’s speed. He snatched his cup up and flicked the water into the Sage’s face. To his surprise—and further disappointment—the Sage was drenched.

“You–little—” A growl come from the Sage. Wei felt a twist of Essence burst out from the man.

“Please do not—” the Attendant could not finish its plea as a blade of darkness blasted out from inside it, spearing toward Wei.

“A disappointment,” the Shell muttered in agony. “This man is nothing…”

Wei triggered his Empyreal Wrath. Celestial Fire blasted out from him—cleaving through the shadow—and at once the Sage cried, flinching away from the brightness. A mistake no cultivator should make.

Wei hit him then. Lightly. Just a jab. The Sage failed to block it—took it straight to the nose.

Cartilage broke. Blood splattered. The Sage toppled back, and for a few moments, both cultivators stared at each other, a sense of shock rising above it all.

The Sage’s expressions flickered through several variations, but he finally clenched his teeth as Wei prepared himself for what was to come.

He failed.

The Sage started crying. Loudly. Violently. Like a child throwing a tantrum. He rolled on his belly and started begging. “Spare me! Please spare me—wait!” He froze. “How… how you would like to fight in my place. I have… there are things I can offer you! Sins! Favors.” A pathetic gleam flashed behind his eyes. ‘Any favor.”

“Kill this man,” the Shell begged. “Please kill him.”

“Wei could only stare on in disbelief. “What… are you…”

“I am going to die,” the Sage wept. “And my son is going to be sold off to a Countess of Hell! As a snake’s concubine! Please! Please! Please save us! Save us, and I will—I will give anything!”