Though Lu had been inside the sect for several hours, he had paid little attention to the particulars of his surroundings; a combination of fatigue and dogged focus kept his eyes to what was right in front of them, on the mortal families and the wall between them and safety.
So as Lady Luann led him through the outer sect towards the inner, it was not unreasonable to say that Lu was seeing it up close for the first time. The streets were paved with smooth stones, a mix of desaturated blues and lighter greys packed together to form a somewhat meandering path, one which conformed to the terrain rather than the other way around. The buildings stood in clusters separated by gardens and pools, which were ubiquitous; the Leaping Trout Sect didn’t take its name lightly, and water was a very present feature in the sect’s construction. It flowed down from one terraced pond to another, small streams and canals running under raised bridges or even directly through buildings. In the morning light the grounds seemed to be run through with veins of molten gold, small fish diving like dragons through their collective hoard.
“Your mountain is quite beautiful, senior sister. I wouldn’t have thought any sect could compete with my own, but now that I see with my own eyes, I can admit my assumptions were mistaken.”
Yan Luann continued to smile softly. Her lips, painted pink, curved up towards a pair of eyes coloured like back-lit emeralds. They seemed to shine with genuine appreciation for Lu’s words, and again his heart gave the laziest possible gesture towards affection. “Thank you, junior brother. I admit, I have never seen the heartlands for myself – but the descriptions given by my sect sisters paints quite a picture, so your comparison must be flattering. Tell me, is it true that the outer gate of the Steadfast Heart was fashioned a thousand years ago, and each new disciple causes a hand to sprout from its surface?”
Lu’s brows raised, and he chuckled lightly. “Ah, the outer gates are indeed a sight to behold. But their enchantments are a bit more practical; if new fists are added, they are done the old-fashioned way.” I certainly don’t recall anything too magical happening when I was accepted. Though that’s a nice story, so maybe I should have gone along with it? “Though I’m sure that you’d quite enjoy the sight of them, and the inside as well of course. The artworks contained in the entrance hall alone…” The comparatively airy emotions in his chest became a touch leaden as he continued to speak. “I’m sure our continent’s sects will all be moving closer together after this, so perhaps you’ll have the opportunity to see our mountain in person.”
As if following his thoughts directly, the young woman’s smile also took on a touch of sadness. “Perhaps.” Her eyes turned from Lu’s face to the end of the path, where a shallow moat extended to either side of a tall gatehouse. The building was narrow but long, its sides etched with blue patterns of engraved formations. “Come, take my hand. So the barrier knows to let you through.”
She extended her arm and Lu took it, and immediately she entwined her fingers with his. Her hand was shockingly warm, and a touch of that warmth crept up to Lu’s face. Ah, am I imagining things? No, she’s definitely flirting with me… right?
Lu did not receive an answer to his unvoiced question. After a pleasant walk through the inner sect, which was mostly a larger version of the outer, he and Yan Luann parted ways at a crossroads. The stone path, flatter and more lustrous than its counterpart in the outer sect, split into two uneven children; the larger heading further up the mountain, and the other leading to a small cottage nearly buried in greenery.
“This is Elder Seven-Coloured Scales’s abode. I would accompany you inside, but I fear the Elder wishes to speak to you alone.” Her hand left his, taking its warmth with it. “I must attend to my duties. I wish you well, disciple Lu.”
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Actually, looking closer I feel that cottage is not quite the right word. This might be better described as a very tiny castle. Though it was about the right size for a small peasant family to live in, the structure was only superficially humble. The walls looked earthen, but that was a lie; they were enchanted from top to bottom, stronger and heavier than any stone. The greenery was real, but equally deceptive; the trees and vines were spiritual herbs, all with nasty stinging barbs or thorns. Anyone pricked by those would get much more than a rash. I can’t imagine the effort it took to find and transplant all this – or the reasoning behind doing so. A mid-tier array would guard the property equally as well, while requiring a fraction the effort… Though maybe it was done piecemeal? This Elder could just have a gardening hobby that’s stretched in strange directions over the years. It was the least unsettling explanation Lu could come up with, and each footstep towards the increasingly-sinister building drained a little more of his stockpiled warm feelings.
As Lu approached the front door – which he noted was solid metal, and only painted to look like wood – it slid open of its own accord. A feminine voice echoed out. “Enter,” it said, its tone demanding obedience.
Lu swallowed, and took a meek step forward – but then paused. Wait. I just fought a war yesterday, and spent the night helping refugees. There’s nothing to fear here; even if I displease this person, the most they’ll do is give me some harsh words. The lump in his throat disappeared, and as Lu walked through the door it was with his expression set and his shoulders squared.
The interior matched what he had already seen; bookshelves and other furniture lined the narrow halls, but a touch of his sense revealed each book to be hiding attack formations on its pages. The tasteful rug concealed a trap in the floor, and the vase set atop a low table was full of poison rather than water, the flowers kept preserved by the toxic fumes. A flaring sense brushed against him, pulling his attention deeper into the house.
Some of the tension of battle began to creep back in from the edges of his psyche. Okay, this isn’t normal. This is in fact entirely strange. The Steadfast Heart was a famed martial sect, prizing its disciples’ skills in violence and combat higher than any other (orthodox) sect in Greengrass, and yet he had never seen this level of dedication to personal security. Though I suppose I haven’t been in many Elders’ personal homes- no! This is absolutely not normal! Even my most sadistic combat instructor would look at this and say, ‘This person has a problem!’
Lu continued forward warily, following the pulse of the flared sense. He didn’t dare linger in place, but the glimpses he got of side rooms did nothing to calm him. It’s all mocked up to look like a mortal’s home. Why? The truth isn’t even gracefully hidden; why put so much effort into living in a fortified bunker, and then sacrifice half of it to force it into the shape of a picturesque cottage?
Finally, another door swung open to reveal something of a living room. A woman was seated at a modern-style table, a tall wooden chair under her rather than the cushion he would have expected, clasping a glass of amber liquid in both her hands.
She turned to look at him, and Lu startled; she had a familiar scar, one going all the way down her face, right through her left eye. Said eye was milky white, where the other was a dark green verging on brown. If she were a mortal he would have placed her in her early thirties, though the hard expression in her face and the grey in her hair made him unsure, and his assessment was further muddled by the grimace blotting out her features – and given that she was an Elder, her lack of comportment sent another round of warning signs through Lu’s mind.
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“Disciple Lu.” Her voice was matched to her face; hard and unyielding – though he detected the slight hint of a slur. “One of three surviving Steadfast Heart disciples.” She took a sip of her drink, and Lu eyed the liquid speculatively.
Is she… drunk? Tipsy, at least. There were enough warning signs flashing behind his eyes that they were blotting each other out. To have an effect on a tenth realm cultivator, that glass must contain something ruinously effective. I bet that sip she just took could wipe out a herd of elephants.
“Three, Elder? Did I hear you correctly?”
Another, larger sip. “You did. My husband’s disciple survived, though he’s in poor condition – does the name Tai Sho mean anything to you?”
Tai Sho- wait, Seventh Wheel had a wife? And she’s an Elder in a different sect? How would that even..? Lu digested the implications, and as he did his expression became complicated. “My condolences, Ma’am. I did not know Seventh Wheel well, but he seemed a fine man.”
Seven-Coloured Scales held his gaze for a moment, before gesturing for him to sit across from her. He sat, in a chair identical to hers, and as his eyes went forward again he noticed another glass that hadn’t been there before, set in front of him already full of amber liquid.
Lu slid the glass closer, but took no moves to drink. “…Thank you, Ma’am.” Ah, I don’t think I’ll be partaking.
The Elder continued nursing her drink, seemingly content to let the silence stretch. Only after what seemed like several minutes had passed did she speak again. “Tell me what happened. Start from when the battle began, and leave nothing out; if sect secrets are involved you may be vague, but do not try to keep anything from me.” She eyed him, and her milky white pupil seemed to stare into his soul. “I will know.”
Lu swallowed. Obviously, obviously. “Well… I would say it began when we started to approach the army. It was at the last moments of evening, just as the sun was properly setting, when we set out. The enemy had spotted us – myself, Elder Winding Wind and his disciple Giro, two other Steadfast Heart disciples named Bu Guanyin and Mai Rong, and the Leaping Trout’s own Bianyan – at some point, and cleared a path all the way to their leader. As we went, a number of other cultivators appeared, through some means opaque to my senses, and…”
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The interrogation – and it was obviously that, regardless of how emotionally distraught the interrogator was – was a gruelling affair, hours of going through the same minute details over and over. Whether the Elder was actually drunk, or if it was an elaborate ruse, it was obvious that she knew what she was doing; when it was over Lu was certain that any secrets he might have attempted to conceal would have been summarily beheaded- er, uncovered. It’s a spot of good fortune that I didn’t have anything to hide. The only secrets I had to give were the enemy’s. Some specks of information managed to make its way against the current – he learned that there were a bare handful of other survivors, mainly sect leaders who had brought powerful escape treasures with them – but for the most part it was a one-sided exchange.
He felt a rush of relief as he exited the Hell masquerading as a house, though it was somewhat stifled by the woman’s hand keeping a tight grip on his shoulder. She moved at an unseemly pace, though he wasn’t certain if it was drunkenness loosening her attention span, grief doing the same, or simply her natural demeanour.
“Come along. I’m sure you want to get home swiftly, and your Patriarch is waiting for you.”
You say that, and yet I had to recount the moment of the cultist's detonation a dozen times over? “Of course, pardon my slowness.” Wait, Steadfast Heart is..? No, don’t be silly; obviously he would be waiting for a large number of different things to occur, me being released is just one of them.
The trip down to the outer gate was much less pleasant than the trip up from it had been, the Elder’s restraining grip absolutely frigid when compared to her junior sister’s. But it wasn’t all bad.
“Lu, there you are! I was wondering where you got off to.”
Lu turned, and was heartened to see Bull running down from a different path. He had his own escort, a male Elder with a long and thin beard bleached white with age, but the man didn’t share Seven-Coloured Scales’s need to physically compel her charge to move. In an inversion to Lu’s situation, the older gentleman seemed exasperated as he was forced to keep pace with the sprinting inner disciple.
“Bull! I didn’t mean to disappear, but an Elder summoned me, and…” He gave a significant look the woman clutching his shoulder like a barnacle.
“You too?” The two pairs converged, and the male Elder glanced at his peer with a furrowed brow before averting his eyes. “This one caught me before the evacuation was even done. ‘Debriefing,’ he called it, but it was obviously just an excuse to rake a junior over the coals.”
Bull smiled at the cringe his words induced on his friend’s face. Bull, don’t just-! “I know they’re Elders of a different sect, but you should at least attempt some respect.”
Whatever reply Bull had, it was interrupted by the gate opening. As they went through and the full devastation of the countryside became obvious, any desire for banter or smalltalk vanished.
With the outermost barrier gone, the area outside the gates had been left exposed. Trees had been blown down by tremendous force, and the numerous streams were rerouted and clogged with mud and debris. And in the distance it was orders of magnitude worse; the battlegrounds were a field of broken and jagged stone interspersed with glass and open pits. Some of the pits had white sky pus pooling in them, giving off an acrid stench as it ate its way down through the ground, while others had mud or even softly boiling magma. Cultivators in a riot of differently styled robes were working to smooth out the landscape, but the ki was still thick enough to represent a real danger to the humans' dantians, not to mention that most of them were mere outer disciples.
Bull whistled, surprised at the breadth of the destruction. I agree. The Patriarch did all this? And conversely – One-Man survived all this, for multiple hours? I’ve been assuming that consumption’s durability scaled up poorly, but maybe I should rethink that assumption.
The pressure on Lu’s shoulder disappeared, and he turned his head to see Seven-Coloured Scales hobbling off. She moved with an obvious wobble to her gait, and Lu's surprise compounded. Oh. I suppose she wasn’t necessarily holding my shoulder to be controlling, but because she was leaning on me for stability? The male Elder reached out, but she slapped his hand away with a mutter. Or maybe a bit of both. Yes, that seems likely.
The Elder shook his head, making his long beard sway, and turned back to the pair of Steadfast Heart disciples. “You are fine to go from here, yes?” His voice was also a match for his appearance; aged, but not weak by any means. “I should follow my junior sister, she is obviously unwell.”
Lu bowed. “Of course, senior. We are grateful for the Leaping Trout Sect’s hospitality in these trying times.”
Then, at his friend’s pointed look, Bull rolled his eyes and did the same. “Thanks. My condolences for your disciples who didn’t make it; no-one deserves to be taken out like that.”
The Elder nodded, and then made for the sect gates. His peer hadn’t waited for him; despite her drunken movement, Seven-Coloured Scales was long gone.
Ah, I shouldn’t be too harsh. She was just widowed; Elder or not, a lapse in decorum is more than understandable.
But then again, the man had a wife in the besieged sect and didn’t mention it? Could they really have been that close? And the way she decorates her abode… No, that wasn’t a normal couple at all. I'll obviously forgive her actions today, but if she invites me back into her home I'll have to decline.