Year’s End, the festival celebrating the end of winter and the beginning of the new year, took place over the course of five days. Lu was sure that it had a long and storied history, likely involving the amalgamation of disparate traditions as cultures became more homogenised leading up to the modern age – but he wasn’t much of a historian.
Not of holidays, anyway. Why would I care to learn the customs of barbaric ancient civilisations, when I could study their spellcraft instead?
The Greengrass Continent, despite the mildness of its winters, still celebrated as though they had survived a grueling slog through harshest blizzards. All across the land, food and drink flowed freely as mortals and cultivators alike enjoyed the festivities; even the Steadfast Heart, with its stern and martial demeanour, had set up a temporary fairgrounds and invited nearby villages to partake. There were all the traditional seasonal treats, like double-brined ham, syrup cakes, and the unreasonably alcoholic drink Gongsham’s Spirit, as well as more local fair like smoked fish eggs, or frozen mint – which was actually a pudding made from strong-tasting pine sap, to the surprise of clueless foreigners each year.
And of course, there were games and activities for all ages. The pair were dressed in their matching festival clothes, and while Lu still felt ridiculous, he was slightly mollified that the majority of attention they received was positive. And mainly from children. “Want to try your hand at ice-fishing, Lu?” The sect had dug out a pond, stocked it with fish, and then frozen it over; the whole thing would be gone in a few days, but for the moment one could enjoy pastimes usually impossible in the local climate. There was also ice-skating, sledding, and a number of other ice-themed activities.
“No, I’m not quite in the mood to sit for who knows how long, just to receive a live trout. But something we can do while reclining is a good idea…” They were both loaded down with food, so the more active activities would need to wait until they had their hands free. “Perhaps we could attend some theatre? It’s been some time since I’ve seen Ballad of the Ice Fairy.”
Bull agreed, and they spent a few hours watching the performers acting out the classic tale of love and tragedy. Then they did a bit of skating, before Bull insisted on going through the small stalls of more childish games.
After crushing anything remotely skill based – the games were really more for mortals – they sat down for a second play, this time a retelling of Virtuous Gongsham Repels the Northern Horde. Lu found the titular drunken priest’s accidental defeat of an entire invasion delightful, but Bull seemed… Well, he certainly seemed to be having a good time, but he was acting a bit off. His boisterousness seems a bit forced, maybe? Ah, I shouldn’t pry; if I were having troubles, I wouldn’t want people butting in without my asking.
But as the day continued, he couldn’t help but continue to notice little moments where Bull’s cheer rang false. When the night’s fireworks began, Lu resolved himself.
“Bull, is something troubling you?” His voice was hesitant.
Bull turned, and Lu saw a small flash of surprise, before it was covered by a grin. “Ahh, I must seem truly out of sorts for you to pick up on it…” Excuse you, I am exceptionally observant! Especially of other’s emotions! He gave a small shake of his head. “Nothing you need to worry about, Lu. Just a scuffle with a senior that’s come back on me.” His teeth shone brightly with each flash of colourful spellwork. “I’ll muddle through. No need to get involved.”
A senior? Ah, is it someone spreading rumours about? Lu opened his mouth to reply, but before he could do so a white light enveloped them, together with a portion of the crowd. “Eh-?!” Is this- did someone make a mistake with the fireworks? I should-
There was a pressure, a sensation of being folded into his own skull, and then Lu lost consciousness.
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Sen was a peasant. An ordinary peasant, without any remarkable features or traits that would draw attention to himself. His only possessions were a straw hat, and the worn clothes on his back. And the dagger. What? No, no, he didn’t have any dagger, and there was no reason to think that he did.
He was attending a festival, though he couldn’t recall why. It was quite nice, made for children. Soft and vacuous. He was enjoying himself; everything felt new and fresh. He knew that he must have attended many festivals like this in the past, but he couldn’t seem to remember any. Every bit of food and drink that touched his tongue was a burst of pure sensation, each story he listened to was his new favorite.
And then there were the men in green. The disciples. Yes, they were probably disciples; they spent money like water, much more than a peasant like him could afford. They were interesting, so he found himself following them throughout the day. Watch the short one, he’s dangerous.
There were other people dressed in holiday outfits, and other cultivators, but he couldn’t help but feel that these two were special. Even when they were out of sight, it was almost like he was drawn to them. Targets. Stay close.
The festival was nice. It was one of the happiest days in his life – the only day in his life? No, don’t be ridiculous. He was old. One hundred and fifty four years. What? No, he was… Fifty-four. Just a normal mortal peasant, middle-aged, with a straw hat and worn clothes. His name was Sen. Straw hat. Worn clothes.
Evening broke into night, and the fireworks began. Too bright. Too conspicuous. They were beautiful, complex shapes of light dancing through the sky, dragons twirling against each other like ribbons in the wind. He kept one eye on the men, and when the lightshow reached its peak-
The veil lifted, and Black Cloak Sen of the Black Cloak Group released the spell he had been holding in his mind for the last twenty hours. Illusory light bloomed, constricting the minds of anyone caught within – they wouldn’t have the mental acuity to cast their own spells, not now. The mortals lost consciousness, then the taller disciple a moment later, but the shorter – sixth realm, scars, Bu Guanyin, he was on the list – resisted long enough to recognise what was happening.
Sen moved in to restrain him before the man could flee, and caught a palm to the jaw for his efforts. He felt his teeth loosen all along one side – but he had a realm on the Steadfast Heart disciple, and was unrestricted by his own spell. Ego Shredding Blade. His dagger came up; the man was fast, his instincts were good, but he couldn’t dodge completely. Sen’s blade nicked his wrist, and energy coiled through his spiritual veins like poison. The man went into full offence, but before a second had passed – still long enough that Sen took three blows, though it was nothing serious – his eyes rolled up. Sen caught him before he hit the ground, plucked the taller disciple from where he lay, and just as a terrible presence was beginning to bear down from higher up the mountain, he activated his spacial treasure.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
The festive fairgrounds transitioned to rough stonework in the time it took to blink. The few tatters of Sen the peasant spent their last moments in confusion, before the disguise evaporated like dew in the midday sun.
“Did you get anyone good?” Sen didn’t startle; long years spent as the man’s subordinate meant that he was used to the cell leader appearing suddenly.
He stripped off his stolen face, revealing the black concealing fabric beneath. “Bu Guanyin. The other matches descriptions of one Lu, though he’s lower realm than our sources described.”
Black Cloak Long stood with the immovable confidence of the core realms, and though his face was similarly concealed, Sen could tell he was pleased. “Good work. No, excellent work, this one is of particular value.” He lifted Lu’s head with the edge of his shoe, examining his face before letting him drop. “They were together?” Sen nodded. “Keep them together, then. I’m sure they’ll be more malleable, that way.”
Lu’s body twitched, and this time Sen did startle. Already throwing off the spell? Admirable willpower. He got to work shackling them properly, and double-checked the gathering formations; their benefactors wanted the targets alive, so it would be doubly unfortunate if they attempted to escape.
After a moment of consideration, he doubled the strength of the inner disciple’s formation. It might damage him… but the benefactor said alive, not whole, and that palm strike had hurt.
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Sho smiled. It wasn’t like his normal smile, bright but distant, imperious. It was the smile he only showed when they were together; fierce and sharp and hungry. Like a lion eyeing fresh meat. “Oh? You think you can keep up with me?”
Bull’s chin rose. “Keep up with you? Obviously, I’m going to surpass you. Before the century turns, I wager.” His expression was haughty, challenging.
Equally hungry.
“Hmm.” His face drew closer. “I’ll take that wager.” Closer. Close-
Bull awoke aware of two things.
First, his dantian was boiling, sublimating in his chest as something pulled it apart, slowly, layer by layer.
Second, someone was retching, close by. There was something over his head and his sense was forcibly constrained, but he could still hear; to his left, perhaps one metre away. A man. Lu?
“Lu! Is that you?” Memory floated back to him like rusted-through iron, crumbling bits drifting on the ocean of his consciousness. “We’ve been kidnapped. Lu, are you awake?”
The retching continued, but with it came a voice. “Bull? I can’t- my stomach-!” Bull strained, but there were shackles pinning him in place; four keeping him spread-eagled, pressed flat to a wall, and a fifth around his neck. That one feels more delicate. I could break it, if I could get some leverage… He had nothing even resembling leverage. “Wait, I’m- I can-“ Whatever he was saying was drowned out by a thick wet noise, more retching and what must be a viscous liquid seeping slowly through thick burlap.
“Lu! Hang on, I’ll-“ Do what? He tested the pressure on his wrists, and it was molded perfectly to his flesh. His ankles were the same. Just breaking the thumb or pulling out of the skin won’t be enough. I’d have to lose most of my hand to slip through. And that was assuming the restraints weren’t affixed magically. Given the strong qi-draining effect, that was unlikely. Everything mid-forearm down, then.
Lu vomited again, and Bull began to truly panic. “Lu! Try to stay calm!” He’s going to drown. Screw my arms, they’ll grow back. The neck shackle wasn’t as tight as the others, so he had enough room to reach, reach, and get a tenuous grip on his shoulder with his teeth.
He pulled, not just with his arm but with his neck, his back, straining with all his might to get more of his shoulder into his mouth, to get enough of his upper arm within range of his teeth to cut it loose. His elbow pulled apart, stretching without tearing as his sixth realm flesh, his tendons, his bones, his stupidly durable meat tried to hold together against his wishes. Blood coated his teeth, but whatever they had used to cover his head was strong enough to weather the full strength of his jaws. He could feel his muscles stretching, just beginning to tear free from the bones of his arm-
“Bull! Bull, stop! Stop! I can get you free, just..! Give me a minute!” Bull stopped.
“Lu?” His voice wasn’t muffled. He got the bag off? “What’s happening?”
“My stomach, it… Whatever it was, a formation I think, it didn’t discriminate.” Hope bloomed in Bull’s chest. That’s right! A normal formation, it couldn’t possibly handle an infusion of that caustic qi. “I only have a few spells I can use, but…”
“Can you cut the shackles? Slip out of them?”
“I can’t seem to teleport. Give me a minute…” Seconds passed slowly as Bull listened, still blind. Lu’s grunts of exertion melded with a myriad of sounds, scraping and the whoosh of wind and other things he couldn’t place. “I can’t damage them, they must be enchanted. Same with the wall.”
Bull ground his teeth. “Lu, I need you to trust me. If they come to check on us and see the formation’s failed, we’re screwed. We need to escape now.” He breathed. “Lu, what’s your strongest spell? Something that can cut or blast away flesh.”
“Bull?” The man sounded sick. “I- I have something like a fireball. Third realm strength, just about.”
Third realm. If I disperse my dantian down to fourth, that’s enough to blow a limb off. Or at least, enough that I can pull it the rest of the way. “Lu, when I signal, hit me in the left arm. As close to the wrist as you can get.”
“Bull, that’s insane! Wait, I have illusions, I can-! I can rig something up, make them think we already escaped-“
“Lu.” He projected as much reassurance as he could. “They’re draining my cultivation. I’ll lose a realm within minutes – these are unorthodox cultivators, Lu. Death is the better option.”
“I’ll pump ki into the room, take out the formation blocking teleportation-“
“They won’t keep it in the room, Lu. It’ll be covering the entire prison, at the very least.” Likely the entirety of whatever structure we’re in. “So they’ll keep it in a central location. We don’t have time for an elaborate plan. Please, trust me.”
Precious moments passed. When Lu spoke, he sounded defeated. “It won’t work, Bull. Even if I cut all your limbs off – I can see it, now that the bag’s off. There’s no door. They must come and go with special means.”
The hope died.
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Long listened to the prisoners converse, a faint smile on his face. He had been alarmed when the gathering formation failed – but a voice in the back of his head soothed him, assured him everything was under control. Putting them together had been the right idea; mentally drained, they didn’t even realise how much information they were giving away.
Something buzzed on the edge of his awareness, and he lifted the communication treasure to his ear. “Benefactor?”
The man – assuming it wasn’t a woman obfuscating her voice – spoke slowly, with a strange accent. Like he was gargling stones. “Please, there is no need for formalities. With this, we are bonded together.” He paused. “The targets, they are ready for transport?”
As ready as we can make them. The machines used strange formations he couldn’t make sense of, but it was put together as closely to the instruction as he could manage. “Yes, benefactor. The payment will be swapped at the same time?”
“Of course. I’ll want you to keep going down the list, after all.” There was something about the tone of his voice that soothed Long’s spirit. He had to force himself not to nod at every sentence. “And again, please, if you don’t want to use my name, at least call me by my title.”
Long soundlessly called for his subordinates to retrieve the prisoners. His eyes were drawn to the contraption in the centre of his chambers; tubes and wires, crystals that burned to touch, and in the middle of the engraved flooring, a splinter of yellow metal.
“If you wish, grandmaster.”