Chapter 13

The Desires of One

Lya wasn’t surprised that the Senior asked her not to reveal him to the world. In fact, she’d already intended on doing precisely that. It wasn’t as though she didn’t yearn to share this blessing with her Sect--if the Senior decided to join them, Holy Blade Sect might shoot through the sky in terms of importance.

Truthfully, Holy Blade Sect wasn’t doing particularly well. Though they were technically a Tier IV Sect and a sovereign of the surrounding area, that was entirely due to their Sect Master. The titular Holy Blade was in the Soul Ascendance Realm just like the other Sect Masters of Tier IV Sects, but, unlike other Sects who had at least a dozen Elders at the Avatar Realm, they had none. In fact, only their Grand Elder was even at the peak of Fusion Realm, while the other Elders were either just barely in it, or at the peak of Spirit Creation.

Were it not for their Sect Master, they would have been delegated to some Tier II Sect in the middle of the mountains, cut off from the world. As such, inviting a hermit like a Senior would have been a miracle, but she knew well enough not to ask.

After all, she didn’t know the reason why he was staying here--in the Nameless Forest, the most dangerous place within the Lower Ashlands. Just the fact that he saved them instead of simply letting them be, and then even helped them immensely with cultivation... it was more than enough.

She observed from the side as the man chopped the fruits and vegetables; there wasn’t a trace of Qi in any of his action, not a trace of divinity, not a trace of mastery--yet, she fell into a strange trance. Crouching there, surrounded by animals who could tear her to shreds with a gaze should they desire so, the man seemed to blend like watercolors on a canvas, becoming one with the world around him.

Perhaps... that was what he pursued--the ultimate expression of life, becoming one with everything. By abandoning the pursuit of all desires, abandoning cultivation, and all the divinities assembled, one could suffuse themselves into the cause and effect of nature itself.

She felt something within her shatter; inspecting herself, she realized what had happened--her Spiritual Root had shed itself and was reborn. She now had Peak-Grade Sky Roots.

It was more than just shocking--though nobody quite knew what roots their Sect Master had, everyone theorized that they were Peak-Grade Sky Roots, or, at the very most, Low-Grade Heaven Roots.

And it was all thanks to the kind Senior in front of her, one so shorn of desires that he cared for nothing but the tiny hamlet he made for himself.

“Senior,” she drew his attention. “Uh, that, that story--from last night, I mean--was... who was it about?” she didn’t know where she got the courage to do it, but she did dare ask the question.

“...” the man stared at her silently for a few moments as she felt regret creep in; perhaps she’d overstepped, and would now be punished. “Me,” the man replied. “Why?”

“You were a child, too--”

“--stop,” the man interrupted her, smiling. However, it was a pained smile, one rife with a number of regrets she could not fathom. “I don’t need absolution. We are all responsible for our sins, one way or another. Whether I was a child at the time or not... it does not matter.”

“Senior, I’ve cut him up!” Song suddenly sounded out, interrupting them. Lya glanced back and saw her Junior Brother bloodied from head to toe, grinning. “Should I bring all the meat over?”

“Just the most tender parts,” the hermit replied.

“At once!”

Lya fell silent and sat down on top of a rock, crossing her legs. She couldn’t fathom the old Senior’s state of mind... so she wouldn’t probe any further. She, too, had regrets that she wouldn’t want the world to absolve her of, so, in some small ways, she understood--the need to bear the burden, even if it was as heavy as a mountain.

Song returned a few minutes later, a good chunk of meat in tow; he was using Qi tethers to carry it over his head, and Lya mused how he’d gotten much better at it. While they were fleeing, he used the tethers a few time to try and attack with his sword from far away, but he could barely lift the sword and hold it steady in air, let alone fire it toward their pursuers.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

There was only one reason why this would happen outside of rigorous, years-long training--the purity of his Qi. Thanks to the Senior, and whatever medicinal herbs he’d fed them, the purity of their Qi would put even their Masters’ to shame.

Setting down the meat, he immediately postured by the Senior’s side, observing him. From what Lya saw, which was fairly little in her Junior Brother’s defense, he was the quickly-adapting sort; between the two, he was far quicker in adjusting to their pursuit, and was even the one to suggest going to the Nameless Forest. Whatever the situation, it felt, he seemed capable of accepting it as-was and moving on.

“What’s that herb called, Senior?” he immediately pestered the hermit.

**

Leo was taken aback with the question--not because it was a strange question, but because he didn’t know the answer. In fact, he didn’t know the names of any of these fruits and vegetables--he only knew them by taste and comparisons to the ones on Earth. As such, to keep the mystique going, he smiled and asked a question as well.

“What do you want it to be called?”

“Eh? It--it doesn’t have a name?” the young boy asked.

“I’m sure it does, somewhere,” Leo replied.

“Then what about this?”

“Same.”

“And this?”

“Same.”

“Waah, how do you remember what they’re like, then? If you don’t have names for them?” compared to what he was like when he first arrived here, Song had... changed. No, rather than ‘changed’, he’d simply relaxed and began behaving as he normally did, most likely.

“Hm, things needn’t names to be remembered,” Leo said, standing up and walking over to the cut boar meat. He had boar meat a few times in his life; it wasn’t bad. Rather, it was somewhere between pork and beef, and was perfectly enjoyable. Choosing a few of the more tender and smaller bits, he pondered how to make a grill-like device to fry it. “You don’t know my name. Will you forget me once you leave the forest?”

“O-of course not!” Song exclaimed. “I will never forget you, or your grace toward us, Senior!”

“Ha ha, is that so?” Leo was a bit flummoxed, but decided to change tactics. Rather than frying it, he’d boil it and leave it hanging suspended over the flames for a while after. He walked back and started preparing everything, first chopping the meat into smaller pieces and slowly boiling them one by one. At the same time, he built a larger contraption to hang the boiled pieces after, tying wet vines to wooden rods suspended some foot above the flames.

Leo had been waiting to ask about the outside world, but didn’t know how to bring it up. Rather, he wasn’t even certain he wanted to know just yet--as far as he could tell, he was potentially decades away from being able to leave this place, if not centuries. He feared that, hearing about the world beyond the borders of the forest would make him yearn--yearn for other people, for civilization, for all the vices he indulged in with such depravity throughout his life.

And so, he remained silent, not asking.

Within hours, vegetables were boiled and ready, and the boiled meat was slowly being smoked. Evening began to descend and, within it, countless eyes converged back to their little clearing.

Lya and Song sat cross-legged on the side, meditating, while the animals curiously salivated at the new meal he’d made. The friendly monkey stood perched on his shoulder, looming over his head, while the lovely owl occupied the other one. Two panthers lay lazily on either of his sides, though it was just a smokescreen--he’d catch them prying their eyes open and gazing at the hanging meat often.

It was strange, really, how quickly he got accustomed to strange animals meandering around his body--after all, back on Earth, if it wasn’t a dog or a cat, he wasn’t even breathing the same air as it, let alone touching it. And yet, here he was, befriending the furry world as though he were a part of it. Oh, perish the thought--

“Just about done,” he’d fashioned a few larger ‘plates’, the sort you’d get in a restaurant when ordering for the entire table, though he’d made them of wood and leaves rather than metals.

Every time one part was done, he’d centralize the meat and surround it with the stew, leaving the plate to the side where the animals ate in a rather orderly fashion. It was another strange thing Leo noticed about this place, the fact that the supposed carnivores and herbivores were co-existing in peace--he’d never seen an animal hunt another outside the boar incident, but that didn’t mean it never happened. After all, he only got to see a snippet of their lives, a very brief look into their everyday reality; what happened outside these few hours that they spent around him, he didn’t know.

In the end, it took him nearly five hours and some fourteen plates of food to feed all the animals that had gathered around. Luckily, there was still some left over for both him and the pair of young cultivators--the two were remarkably patient, despite the look of desire in their eyes.

“Here,” he handed them a plate while he himself sliced meat into cubes and put it in a bowl with the vegetable stew--rather, it’d become meat stew, now.

“Thank you, Senior,” Lya replied as the two bit into the food, slowly eating it.

Silence reigned between them, reminding Leo of some distant childhood memories, when his family used to go camping. There was scarcely ever any silence, however, what with his mother’s insistence on singing songs, and his father’s insistence on telling scary stories around the campfire. They reveled in the cliches, for better or for worse.

As soon as they’d finished eating, both kids closed their eyes and began meditating--soon enough, even Leo was able to see the fruits of their efforts. Tendrils of something strange began to form around them--like silken threads dyed white, they surrounded the kids and framed them, giving them both a strange, holistic glow.

In the dead of the night, surrounded by darkness, two glowed like fireflies, dispensing the shadows in their wake. And Leo observed from the side, in awe. He wondered, silently, when would the day come when he’d be able to manifest something so beautiful and terrifying.

As though sensing his distress, the white panther jumped onto his shoulder and nuzzled its head against his, prompting him to smile and caress it.

“I’m just happy for them,” Leo said. “That’s all.”