Chapter 62

Five Faces of Death

Leo's eyes were wide open, his breath held in his lungs, and his body prone to the ground.

Using only the faint movements of his fingers, he tethered the sword to Qi, manipulating it from above and abruptly shooting forward, aiming for the head of the rather large boar beyond the shrubbery. He'd hidden himself for nearly two hours, barely moving and breathing, waiting to see whether any of the animals would evacuate the canyon--and one just did.

The sword shot silently through the air and, without any resistance, pierced through the boar's head, killing it immediately.

Leo stood up, only now realizing he was covered in sweat, and glancing over at the black tiger who was casually napping. The massive beast didn't have to hide--it seemed invisible to the world, as though only Leo could see it. It was either that, or the animals in the canyon simply 'surrendered' themselves to whatever would happen in regard to the obsidian beast. Whichever it was, Leo felt a bit peeved--but, once again, dared not feel it for too long.

He walked over toward the boar and crouched by the beast--the sword lay embedded in the ground by its side, with Leo quickly retrieving it and washing it with Qi. The boar itself was about one and a half (size-wise) of the one he first hunted, many moons ago. Looking over toward the canyon, rather than going on indiscriminate slaughter, Leo made a choice: he'd only come back once they were out of meat.

Even if it was for the quest and 'justified', Leo felt iffy hunting just for the hides and possibly throwing away hundreds of pounds of perfectly edible food in the process. Even beyond that, he didn't want to see the life here as mere materials, even if they were animals, unlike his other furry friends.

Tossing the boar over his shoulder, he started heading back, with the black tiger catching up to him quickly and walking by his side. Unlike Hoot or Red or Milky or White or most others at the camp, whom he could 'understand' in a sense, Leo couldn't grasp an iota of tiger's thoughts or intentions. Nothing was interpretable within those magnificent eyes, and Leo didn't dare probe further beyond that.

"Do you prefer vegetable stew or would you want me to start making one with meat from now on?" he asked. The tiger merely glanced at him and continued moving, as though he said nothing. His cheeks red, he looked away for a second and calmed himself down. "I'm just trying to be nice. But, I mean, you're also nice--you took me here, showed me that place. So, uh... ah, dear God, if the world could see me, would they think I'm putting on a skit for them?"

Leo chuckled faintly at the silence--the tiger, disinterested as ever, matched his pace perfectly. When Leo slowed down, so did the beast, and when Leo sped back up, the black shadow was right by his side. Though Leo feared the beast, it was more so because it was larger than him, and looked like it could de-organ him in about six seconds. Unlike his other friends, however, Leo never quite grasped the 'intellect' that he'd seen in them; whether it was because it wasn't there, or because the tiger deemed him unworthy of showcase... that was impossible to guess.

By the time he returned to the camp, the night was already descending. The two kids were both in their huts, meditating, while the animals had converged and were waiting patiently.

"Sorry, sorry. Hey, you two," he called the two kids out. "Either one of you know how to properly skin and prepare an animal?"

"Hm? Oh, you hunted something, Master!" Liang was the first to emerge, almost like a bolt of thunder. "Yes, I am an expert in 27 different ways of skinning, cutting, and dissecting animals!"

"... one is enough," Leo looked at him oddly for a moment as he put down the boar. "Okay, get on it. As fast as possible. Tonight's dinner will be luxurious, briefly-made-an-appearance-a-while-back meat stew."

"Finally!!" Liang wept as he fell to his knees, hugging the dead carcass. Leo felt goosebumps shoot through him at the sight, feeling a slight need to throw some holy water at the young man. "I'll be done in just ten--no, five minutes, Master! Just give me five minutes!"

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"No, wait, I was thinking more like an hour--"

"--I can't wait that long to eat meat!"

Thus, Leo watched in horror as Liang dismantled the boar at such a speed that it left him speechless. All he could do was silently pour water into the pots and alight the fires, scattering vegetables and spices alongside cut up pieces of meat. The image, though, was seared in his brain--that of a muscular youth all but using his teeth to (rather skillfully) tear away skin from the flesh. Just how much did that bastard wanna eat meat?!

He discovered new things about his Disciples almost every day--for instance, though Yue was clever and sharp-witted, she was also a bit of an airhead. Also, she enjoyed taking a day off here and there where she'd frolic in the pond or play with Blackie or just do nothing. She also had a wealth of books in that spatial ring of hers that she'd take out once in a while and read. It wasn't that she read, but that she was rather secretive about it--Leo, once, caught a glimpse of a few letters and words, lengthy, and throbbing, and wild, and embrace. He dared not peek any further, staying well away from her whenever she had a book in her hands.

Liang, besides working out all the time, enjoyed occasionally running around with Milky and sometimes spent hours just petting the tiny panther. He also loved climbing trees, and would occasionally even race Red (so far, their record was 0-44 in favor of the monkey). And, now, Leo learned that the young man loved meat. Though it may have just been the fact that he hadn't tasted it in quite some time.

In fairness, everyone seemed a bit excited with the newness of the stew, with quite a few animals accidentally salivating onto the ground. It was quite a sight to behold, though Leo pretended he didn't see anything--a courtesy he had hoped they'd repay the next time he embarrassed himself.

**

A faceless skin 'stared' at him amidst the flames of destruction. The entire mountain camp, more fortified than some castles, was burning. Hundreds of bodies lay scattered amidst the rubble, whether they were Qi Condensation recruits or Avatar Realm bosses. Everyone... everyone was dead.

And it was all because of him--no, it wasn't him. It wasn't a person--just a thing that walked silently in the night, and annihilated them.

"P-please... please, show mercy!" he fell to his knees, pleading. "I--I didn't do anything wrong! I am just a cook, not a bandit! I--yes, I was also captured! I was forced to labor away here!"

"--you desire Mercy?" a ghastly phantom suddenly appeared next to the thing, bodiless apparition with a human face embossed in shadows and smoke. The face itself was smiling kindly, eyes void of judgment.

"Though you desire Me," a voice was sweet and loving, as though a mother's warm embrace. He found his heart stirring with guilt, and his eyes bleeding tears. "Do you deserve Me?"

"Or Me?" another phantom appeared, with the sole difference being the face--rather than kindness, there was rage. Anger. Resentment boiling like water in a cauldron. "Look into your soul, and recognize you do not deserve mercy--you deserve Wrath!"

At the same time, three more apparitions appeared--one with an expressionless, stoic, emotionless face; another with kindly yet judgmental one, and lastly, one with winter's chill and apathy.

All five stared at him, and he felt as though he'd died and was upon the Ten Courts of Hell. He was being judged, but he could not lie--it was as though the eyes staring at him had stripped him naked and bared him for the entire world to see. There was neither skin nor flesh to shield his sins, not an armor strong enough to hide his guilt. What did he deserve? Mercy? No. He'd never shown it to those who begged him just as he was begging them.

"P-punishment!" he keeled over further, tearing his heart out. "I, I deserve to be punished..."

"You desire Me?" a chilly, apathetic voice trailed into his ears. His entire body frosted over as he forced himself to look up--standing there, before him, was no longer a phantom, but a woman. She was beautiful, yet he felt his eyes sting as though with needles when he looked at her. Beneath the beautiful facade, he witnessed it--a thousand scars webbing out everywhere. "Hm, indeed. Your soul bleeds filth. Let it be so, o' thy sinful fiend--"

"--We thus cast Judgment upon you," all five voices joined into a choir. "You deserve not the Mercy, for you were never Merciful; you deserve not the Redemption, because you never sought to Redeem your heart; you deserve not the Wrath, for it would be a Kindness to you; you deserve not Justice, for you were not wronged. Thus, you shall be Punished, forever and onward-more."

There was silence soon, only the crackling of the flames and the distant wailing of the tormented occasionally breaking it. The phantoms disappeared, leaving only the faceless humanoid--and it, too, morphed and distorted, as though made of clay. The bodice gave way to a much smaller frame, with limbs spanning out into feathered wings. The colorless white grew darker and darker until it was black, and from the fumes of the transformation, a singular animal emerged--an ordinary-seeming crow, no larger than any other seen in the wild.

It flapped its wings and hung its beak low, looking over the burning mountain keep for a brief moment before turning around and flying out through the smoke. In the distance, the night fog gave way to the thick canopy of the trees that stretched as far as the eye could see. The crow, without stop, headed toward its northern parts, silently becoming one with the trees, as though it had never left them.