Chapter 33

Bejeweled in Silver

"Oh, well imagine, as I'm pacing the pews in a church corridor and I can't help but to hear~" Leo mumbled a song under his breath as he lay relaxed in a pond. He wasn't alone, either--the animals seemed to have started copying him. The monkey was lying on his back, floating, while the pair of the black and white panthers were thrashing about and swimming. The owl was perched on top of his head, occasionally hooting, while, on the other side of the pond, he saw the cub and mama bear pair splashing about.

It was all very serene, if not a little bit boring. However, unlike what he expected of himself, he didn't... hate it. That being a strange and new feeling, he tried to examine it but was unable to reach the answers.

Back on Earth, he could scarcely even have a meal without a distraction. He always had to be doing something, even if it was entirely pointless, just to engage his mind. However, ever since coming here, he began to realize that he was finding it easier and easier to dwell in nothingness for hours.

Soaking in a bath was something he hadn't done since he was a child--and yet, he now found himself soaking for an entire hour, just sitting in silence, completely at ease. It was somewhat liberating in ways that he hadn't even considered before. But, in some capacity, it was also a necessity. A mind's greatest trait had always been its ability to adapt to any change in circumstance, all in the name of self-preservation.

Leo enjoyed it, though.

Thinking back on his life, every day felt like a short story written out that he was forced to live. But those days, however adventurous they were, also blended together into a continuous bender of hollow glamour. Furthermore, desires were ruined and shattered. What used to bring him joy one day could seldom keep him content the next. It was a constant pursuit, an eternal chase to relive a memory he'd ensconced into a gilded cage. But nothing was ever enough, and even if it could just about scratch the itch, it would not do so for long.

In due time, he became empty--he drank because he always did so, he hung out at parties because he always did so, he vacationed in exotic places because he always did so. None of those things brought him any joy, which was when he sought the isolating walls of a room.

Opening his eyes, he escaped the dark memories. How was it, he silently wondered, that he was fine being alone here, but dreaded it beyond dreads back on Earth? His own thoughts were still there, ever-present, yet were... lithe.

He wasn't clever enough to figure it out, the root cause of the changes. Perchance, it was simply him being grateful to live another life. Perhaps it was being surrounded by animals who cared for him, but didn't seem to expect more out of him than what he could give.

Whatever it was, in the end, he was glad to be living here, in the moment. Even if his ultimate fantasies of becoming a world-renowned cultivator were never fulfilled, he felt, deep down, that he would not be disappointed with this life either way.

He didn't linger for much longer, leaving the pond and heading back home. The animals accompanied him--including the mama and cub pair, who seemed to have become the everyday visitors at the very least--some racing ahead like the black and white panther, and some, as always, hanging off of him and taking the free ride.

By the time he came back, the 'wanderers' as he called them (the animals that only came about for the meals and the juice) began gathering around the camp. He greeted them gingerly and they all seemed to at least nod, with an occasional roar or a howl, before beginning to cook.

Feeling a bit adventurous, in addition to the standard-set meals that the animals enjoyed, he decided to mix it up a bit, if not for them then for himself. He felt a bit inspired ever since having made that strange candy for the crow, but never did find the time to experiment once again.

He found serenity in the swirls of the dancing fires and the bubbling of the water. Stirring the stew, he glanced up and saw that quite a few animals were slobbering already. Smiling, he began talking, filling the void of silence.

"There's a concept that used to scare the soul out of me," he said. "It's called Boltzmann brains. It supposes that, whatever natural machinations are behind the existence of the universe itself, are far more likely to be behind simpler things--like us. That is to say, the machinations did not create the universe, but rather just a single mind filled up with lies. My life, you, this place, all my memories... they are just fabrications. Ultimately, though, it's sort of a self-jailed notion, one of those notions that if you are aware of them, they cannot be.

"But a lot of it stayed with me. The fear that I'm alone, that nothing around me is real. Not in the actual sense, anyway," he took a sip of the fruit juice, chuckling and starting at the flames. "I spent like an entire year in my early twenties just looking for the 'glitches'. Melting my brain in theories, and 'truths'. God, I was so moronic, ha ha ha. This one time, I was convinced I found it--a friend of mine suddenly had a gold tooth, and I knew for a fact he didn't. Well, it was short-lived. A minute later, someone pointed it out, and it turned out to be corn. Ha ha ha." he took a moment, looking up from the flames at the dark sky.

"It all seems so silly, now, but back then, my mind was preoccupied with it all. Like, what if all of time is compacted into a singularity--so, all events, past, present, and future, are both happening at the same time and not at all? What if a choice I made without much thought in the present rippled and made a change in the future that I cannot ever undo? Well, that did happen, often. I wasn't always the brightest bulb, as it were. Haah, why is it that in my life, I always learned whatever lesson I needed to learn just a bit too late? Like I was always lagging a step behind, and if I could just sprint for a little while, I would have caught up. That's life, though... no?"

His faint chuckle faded into the forest as he turned around and went back into one of the huts. Lying down, he closed his eyes and drifted off into sleep rather quickly. He wasn't particularly exhausted--he never was--but sleep was a strange comforter, he found, that allowed him to reset his mindset anew. So, whenever he found himself drifting and yearning for things he could never have, he'd lie down and close his eyes, and by the time he opened them, it was the future, and he was no longer the same person he was just a few hours ago. He didn't know for how long the 'cheat' would work, but he would exploit it for as long as he could.

**

"And, begin!"

A dashing, young man garbed in silver robes fluttered backwards, forming sigils with his hands at the same time. Opposite of him, some fifty yards of distance away, was another young man, approximately the same age, garbed in black robes. The latter had drawn out a colossal, obsidian blade with scarlet gems hemmed into the blade's fuller.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

The two stood atop one of the practice arenas of the Holy Blade Sect, with a somewhat sizeable audience of peers gathered around commenting on the fight. Both youths were at Peak Foundation Establishment Realm, though the man in black was about a year older than the one garbed in silver. The duel was precisely the result of that--the latter had pointed it out, and the former took offense to it.

Most duels, really, between the young people resulted from these small, perceived slights--any one of the people gathered for the Heavenspan Tournament were geniuses in their own right, and seldom liked coming up short against their peers or, worse yet, those even younger than them.

The silver-robed youth conjured up several dozen arrays of light in the shape of a blade, using his fingers to manipulate them into attacking the black-robed man. The latter swung the colossal weapon violently, coating it in thick glum of red, easily deflecting the attack. At the same time, he soaked his feet with blood and erupted forth like a storm, leaving behind a deep imprint in the arena.

He flew across and closed the distance between the two in the blink of an eye, smashing the weapon from the side. The silver-robed youth mumbled something under his breath, covering himself with visible sheen of light and taking the hit directly without suffering any damage. On the other hand, the black-robed man found the colossal weapon bounce off the shield, dragging him backward for a moment before he forcibly stopped it and, with a crack in his forearms, he shot Qi directly into the weapon and swung it back down.

Under the aghast eyes of the watchers, the silver-robed youth's shield cracked like glass and, in panic, he put out his arms out to block the weapon from hitting his face. Just then, a smear of color appeared between the two and easily separated them. Indignant, the black-robed man tried to stand up and attack again, but found himself plastered on the ground.

"I did not know when my Holy Blade Sect began permitting Death Duels," a figure appeared between the two--it was a young woman, seemingly in her late twenties. She had short, silver hair and a pair of silver eyes, and was wearing golden robes. Few among the audience recognized her as one of the Elders of the Sect, the titular 'Silver Soul Blade'.

"He insulted--"

"--I don't care if he chopped your tiny little pecker," she interrupted, seeming beyond annoyed to be here. "While you are within the walls of the Sect, you can fist each other however much you'd like, but any attempt to take life will be considered a slight against the Holy Blade Sect itself. Since you're just a pair of dumb kids, I'll forgive you this once. If it happens again, I'll chop you into so many pieces that even the best cooks in the world won't be able to use you as an ingredient. Understood?"

"..."

"Hey, I asked you a question."

"U-understood, Senior!!" both youths exclaimed at the same time, seemingly both having caught up to who it was in front of them. They scurried off the arena with tails between their legs, while the woman eyed the audience silently for a moment, smiling right after.

"Is your big sister so pretty that you can't help yourselves but to stare at her?"

"--!!" everyone, even the other Elders in the audience, immediately looked away while she scoffed, her eyes slanting into slits.

"Pathetic," she left the single word as she vanished into thin air, disappearing the same way she came. Though she insulted them directly to their faces, no one dared complain.

After all, there was a reason why she was called 'Silver Soul Blade'--while 'silver' merely denoted the eerie hair and eye color she had, the 'Soul Blade' referred to the cultivation technique she used. Unlike most sword cultivators who used an actual weapon as a conduit for their arts, and even those--like the silver-robed youth--who used Qi to manifested bladed weapons made up of pure energy, her attacks were not 'physical'. Her 'blade' attacked the soul directly, ignoring everything else.

The rumor was that, despite just being at the Peak of Fusion Realm, even masters at Soul Ascendance Realm weren't entirely comfortable fighting her. Though they would undoubtedly win, there was still the uncertainty that she might damage their souls, something that would not only cripple their any future potential in cultivation, but also shorten their lifespans.

As such, most left her alone--expressly for a rather simple reason: she wasn't going to live much longer. 'Soul Blade Art' was such that it did not use the person's Qi to attack, but rather the person's own Soul. So, each time she attacked, even if she won, she shortened her own lifespan. It was also the reason why she was the only person in the entire Holy Blade Sect studying such 'powerful' art. Thus, she was left alone (even if it was also for the fact that any time someone challenged her, she would not kill them, but merely turn them into imbeciles which most martial artist considered a fate a thousand times worse than death).

In the meantime, Shui Xiaoling retreated back into the palace, settling herself on the balcony overseeing the entire sect. Sighing, she reached into her robes and took out a small, brown pill, eating it right after. Closing her eyes, she silently channeled Qi and dispersed the medicinal powder within the pill, causing her to vomit a mouthful of black blood that she immediately evaporated from the palm of her hand.

She sighed, smiling faintly.

A month--that was how long she had. Though most lamented her choices and fate, she never once regretted cultivating 'Soul Blade Art'. It resonated with her, almost like a perfect love. Even if it was short-lived, it was better, in her eyes, than if she lived much longer, studying something that she loathed.

"What are you doing here?" a familiar voice drew her attention to the side where she saw the Sect Master slowly walking up to her. There was worry on his face, causing her to smile further.

"What? I'm not allowed to enjoy the festivities?"

"You're supposed to be meditating in the Healing Hall," he said, sighing and grabbing his head. She didn't fault him--all her life, she was likely one of the prime source of his headaches. "I'm very close to making a deal with the Pavilion. If you can cultivate in their Heavenly Pond for even just an hour, you can live up to fifty extra years!"

"... and I already said that I don't want it," she replied. "Even if, for some reason, they were willing to help us, they would bleed us dry. I don't want to live longer at the expense of my home. Take whatever wealth you would have given to them, and spend it on the Disciples instead. We can't be lagging behind others."

"If I could have just pressured the two Disciples a little bit--"

"--if you'd done so, I would have wrung your tits out and fed them to the dogs," she interrupted rather harshly. "The poor kids were sweating buckets because of you. Aren't you ashamed? You actually pressured a pair of Core Formation Disciples with your Sense! Ah, if the world heard, you would never outlive the embarrassment."

"They've certainly enjoyed a Heavenly Pond, one of especially high quality at that," the Sect Master said, frowning. "Don't you want to live, Xiao'er?"

"... of course I want to live. But not at anyone else's expense. If they aren't telling us out of their own will," she said. "There must be a reason for that."

"... haah, why are you so stubborn?"

"I had a stubborn Master."

"I won't give up," he said, patting her head gently. He'd done so ever since she was a little young girl who'd happily chosen an art sitting in the corner and started cultivating it before ever consulting with any of her Seniors. As such, the Sect Master took her under his tutelage, and had spent a good part of the past thirty years trying to 'fix' her. "So, please, don't give up either."

"Okay," she smiled. "We have to be wary with those kids. They've already piqued curiosity and might be targeted."

"Oh, they will be. But as long as I'm here, nothing will happen to them."

"Master."

"Hm?"

"Thank you," she said, looking away. "For everything."

"... Demonic Possession?"

"Bah! I am not so far gone that I can't express gratitude to my own Master!"

"Is that so?" he laughed as she threw a random attack at him; it never had a chance of landing, but she would often do precisely that when frustrated. "I have to go. Other representatives have gathered and are waiting for me. Keep an eye out and inform m

e if you notice anything untoward."

"Will do, Master."

She watched his fading back in silence, sighing yet again as she looked out through the window and at the sea of excited youth beneath it. She, too, once glistened with the same glow, certain she'd stir the world with her talent. Alas, life was a long, dark tunnel, and few knew precisely the path they were taking. And she... she was never one of them.