“Elder Hu, you’re wanted on the bridge.” A familiar voice said.

I looked down to see Fang Xiao staring up at me. I’d spent much of the three day journey sitting on the roof of the aft pagoda. It’d become my go-to spot when holing up in my cabin poring over Meng Xiao’s jade slip got tiring. My record thus far was forty minutes, before the slip began to suspect I was an imposter and I had to drop it. It was an incredible stroke of luck that setting the slip aside reset it’s memory. I was tempted to push farther, to allow the slip to recognize me and see how the impression of Meng Xiao imprinted on it reacted. But I didn’t understand the thing well enough to be certain that it didn’t have the capability to phone home, if given enough time without a session reset.

I hopped down, flexing my legs as I landed, that my slippers made nary a whisper. I acknowledged Fang Xiao with a nod, then followed in silence as he led me into the pagoda itself.

There was an odd quality to our silence, stilted but not awkward. A mutual awareness that we were playing a role, if not a full understanding on either side. It seemed like he wanted to say something, but he’d been relatively curt with me all trip. I wasn’t bothered, it only made sense that he wouldn’t want to risk alienating Elder Cai. I wouldn’t make any inroads with him by forcing the issue.

As we entered the bridge, I was mildly surprised to find it relatively crowded. Elder Cai sat just behind the center of the room, lounging in a colossal chair that was very nearly a throne. A low table before her churned with an ocean of sand. After a fraction of a second staring, I realized the shapes crossing it weren’t waves, but a representation of the terrain around us. The waves were simply a product of how quickly we were soaring over the hills below.

Around the sand table, stood the rest of what I was coming to realize were the leaders of our expedition. Elder Su stood to Cai’s right, leaning against the table, watching the world below rush by. To her right stood Li Ru, who I recognized only from description. He wore his shoulder length black hair slicked back, which was relatively uncommon in the sect, where most male disciples who kept theirs long seemed to prefer to tie it back with a comb or tail. But the thing that truly identified him was his left hand. The smooth glossy porcelain, with its exaggerated doll joints, was unmistakable.

Further along, Meng Daiyu, the sect’s sole core disciple, stood alongside Hao Yue, the corpse bride. Not that I’d call her that to her face. Rounding out the table, stood Liang Tao, who looked visibly uncomfortable being here.

To my mild surprise, Fang Xiao retreated after beckoning me into the room. I supposed Elder Cai had no need of him, and he didn’t speak for Elder Akayama in the same way the other disciples did for their masters. That man was rumored to have even less contact with sect politics than the old Elder Hu, seemingly content to never leave his dwelling on the Beastblood Peak.

I took the open place at Elder Cai’s left and waited in silence. There wasn’t a clear chain of command here. Elder Cai had brought the ship, Meng Daiyu was the sect master’s disciple, but I was the most powerful cultivator present. I supposed Elder Su was in the running as well. I could make a bid for leadership, but I didn’t feel the need. I would rather play kingmaker by picking a side than direct the whole expedition.

Elder Cai’s eyes popped open.

“Good, you’re all here.”

Elder Cai had the sort of face that could have been mundane and forgettable, if someone else wore it. She’d seemingly resisted the customary vanity of cultivators, instead keeping the face nature had given her. She wasn’t conventionally beautiful, with a wide face and angular features. Her hair was shot with threads of gray, and she wore the beginnings of wrinkles, as if she were a mortal entering her fifties. But her eyes gave the illusion of well maintained mortality away. They were a steely gray, far purer than her hair, flashing with actinic blue as if a storm raged within them.

“We will reach the temple in less than four hours.” She said without preamble. “As we approach the site, we must be unified in how we will approach the other powers. Time does not favor us. I believe we should evict the Glass Flowers, occupy the temple, break its defensive formations, strip its treasures, and then leave.”

There was silence, as we all processed that. It was a bold plan, to fight two sects and an army detachment at once. But what scared me most, was that we might actually be able to pull it off.

“At the helm of the Black Sun, I effectively am a second nascent soul cultivator.” Elder Cai continued. “Elder Su and Disciple Meng can both evenly match almost any other core formation elder on the field. The sect master’s intelligence suggests we have more inner disciples than the Glass Flowers and Transient Vessel combined. No force present could hope to stand against us in battle.”

Disciple Hao frowned.

“We would be hard pressed, if all three orthodox forces joined hands.”

“They won’t. Not in time.” Elder Cai replied. “And even if they did, an army is poorly suited for contesting the site against our force. The temple gates are a natural choke point, and the Black Sun’s air superiority would produce ruinous casualties in a prolonged battle. As long as we take the gates in our initial attack we would be almost impossible to dislodge. Elder Hu could easily hold such a small area against half a dozen core formation cultivators.”

“If we’re trapped in the complex, we risk starting a true war.” Meng Daiyu said slowly. “None of us could hope to defeat Qin Longwei or the elders of the Empty Circle. It is unlikely that the sect would mobilize against them, even for us.”

Elder Cai paused for a moment, before replying.

“So long as we have the Black Sun, that’s not a risk. If we kept the outer disciples on the ship, we could load in seconds.”

“The outer disciples wouldn’t like that.” Liang Tao interjected. “They volunteered under the expectation that they would at least have some opportunity to acquire benefits.”

“I’m sure heaven weeps for them.” Meng Daiyu said with a laugh.

“Who cares?” Elder Su added more bluntly.

I didn’t like where this was going. I’d accepted that I wasn’t getting out of this with clean hands, but we could do better than opening with a blitz.

“Would the Black Sun be safe, against all the elders present, if you were not on it?” I asked. “The factions present can field what, seven core formation cultivators?”

“A fair point.” Elder Cai conceded with a frown. “Its autonomous defenses would struggle against such a force.”

“Unless we can bring the ship into the temple complex itself, we would risk putting ourselves in a situation where we need to split our forces.” I continued. “But if we did need you to remain on the Black Sun, I suppose I could probably cut my way through its defenses.”

Elder Cai’s nose crinkled.

“An ugly solution. If this complex really is a holdover from the aftermath of the War in Heaven, your sword would be a blunt instrument for gaining access. You would likely destroy much of the value of the temple.”

“Yes.” I agreed. “It would be better if you took the lead on breaking the temple’s protections.”

There were a few glances at me, a mild surprise that I conceded so easily that Elder Cai surpassed me in that domain. But nobody said anything.

The conversation died out, as we all considered the logistics of an assault. I might be able to defend the ship and the outer disciples on my own, if its autonomous defenses were as good as Elder Cai boasted. But the other two elders would be hard pressed to raid the temple and defend the gate without me or the ship.

No, the more I thought about this, the more I hated the idea. None of this worked, if we couldn’t get the ship inside the temple’s defenses. Our overwhelming advantage in force fell apart if we had to defend two locations without the ability to reinforce each other.

As I was about to open my mouth to expand on that, Meng Daiyu beat me to it.

“Perhaps we should consider a more diplomatic initial approach. We can throw our force’s weight around without actually claiming the site, the threat of bombardment alone means the army cannot attack us unless the Glass Flowers allow them to move their camp into the complex.”

“We can always take a more aggressive tack later.” I added. “There’s nothing stopping us from seizing the complex after we’ve found a way to get the Black Sun inside.”

“True.” Elder Cai said absently. She waved her hand, and the sand on the table stilled. Her qi pulsed, flowing through the walls around us. Sand shifted, revealing the shape of the complex and the surrounding terrain. Grains floated through the air in a hazy bubble around the perimeter of the temple, giving an impression of the shield the Glass Flowers had managed to activate that was allowing them to keep the army at bay. The massed tents of the Qin army were even visible as a rash of bumps in the sand.

“I suppose there would be no harm in getting a better look at the defenses before we commit to an assault.”

“Are we even certain it’s a temple?” Elder Su asked. “What if the Glass Flowers actually do have the level of control over the defensive formations they claim?”

Elder Cai frowned.

“The Glass Flowers Sect is a historical anomaly. Until two hundred years ago, the land that is now the Qin Empire did not have a yin focused orthodox sect without religious affiliation. They claim the ancestors of others, because they have no history of their own worth the name. I would not be surprised if they didn’t even activate the shield intentionally, but instead gave away their find by fumbling about with controls they don’t understand.”

“We’re agreed then, we’ll approach openly and demand access to the temple?” Meng Daiyu said.

Nobody disagreed.

For another hour, we discussed the specifics of our initial negotiating position. Slowly, cultivators bowed out, as we settled more and more specifics. Liang Tao and Li Ru left first, once it was established that we would insist all of our disciples be afforded the opportunity to explore the complex unsupervised. Nobody really disagreed with that, as long as the outer disciples wouldn’t be a hindrance to our exit strategy. Meng Daiyu and I would act as the face of our delegation, mostly because neither Elder Su nor Cai really wanted the responsibility.

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After another forty minutes of considering whether we could leverage the Glass Flowers or the Qin army to splinter the orthodox factions under various hypothetical scenarios, I too made my exit. We wouldn’t know the situation on the ground until we landed, and despite her understated but clear distaste for me, Meng Daiyu and I seemed on the same page. I’d finally remembered where I’d first seen her, before she arrived at my door with a jade slip. She was the one who had scowled at me in the repository shortly after I’d been transmigrated. I wondered what exactly the previous Elder Hu had done to earn her ire. It couldn’t have been too severe, if I’d still been entrusted with her protection.

Unfortunately, the matter seemed to have been beneath the sect master’s notice, so the jade slip didn’t contain anything on the subject. That, or it hadn’t been deemed mission relevant. I still had no idea how information was imprinted on those.

As we made our final approach, I sought out Su Li. I eventually found her on the deck, exchanging blows with a tanned outer disciple I didn't recognize. The outer disciples had congregated near the bow of the ship, no doubt getting stir crazy from two days with nothing to do in shared quarters. It was a good match, clearly friendly, without any of the jockeying for status that seemed endemic in the outer sect.

It helped, I think, that her opponent began the match already resigned to his eventual loss. The male disciple was much bigger than Su Li, but clearly less advanced. He was… Slow. Couldn’t have been beyond the third stage of qi condensation, probably one of this year’s older initiates. His spearwork was fine, controlled and deft. He kept the weapon close, relying on its range to ward off my disciple, only venturing the occasional clipped thrust.

But his footwork was so lacking he might as well have been stationary. Su Li picked him apart, steadily circling around him as she dipped in and out of his range, constantly threatening lunges.

Su Li didn’t need to do anything to break the stalemate. Slowly, he tired. The head of his spear dipped, and he began choking up on its grip to relieve his arms, shortening his reach. Then she danced in and tapped her wooden jian against his throat.

I didn’t have a great benchmark for the skill she’d started with, but she was definitely getting better. A lot of it was no doubt the small realm she’d advanced, but her footwork was definitely slowly improving as well. I didn’t think my improvised drills had hurt on that front, but I hesitated to assign most of the improvement to them. I knew from experience just how much comfort and confidence could play a role there. An unconfident fighter was an immobile one.

It’d taken years before I’d really gotten comfortable enough to try to slip a punch without also reflexively backing up to gain distance. I’d always been an out-boxer at heart, probably to the detriment of my development as a fighter. It came with the territory of growing up with long limbs and zero muscle, but it had made me predictable in the ring for a long time.

I’d have to watch that she didn’t develop similar bad habits. Or find someone else who could see them. I’d no doubt battle-maniacs like Fang Xiao and Elder Xin had better eyes for that than me, it would be a great boon having one of them point out areas of concern.

Su Li noticed me watching her. I smiled, and her face lit up like a christmas tree in response. I stiffened, a little. It still scared me, just how easy it was to make her happy. How starved she was for approval.

As she made her way over, I gave the outer disciples who’d slowly been sidling up towards me a meaningful look and they quickly re-established my customary bubble of personal space.

I leaned out across the edge of the ship, and Su Li followed suit, copying me.

“How are you doing, Disciple Su?”

The question seemed to take her by surprise. She took a moment to think, before answering.

“I am doing well. Being out of the sect has been a welcome change of pace. It’s been a long time.”

I nodded.

“We’ll be arriving shortly. The elders and some inner disciples will disembark first, to establish terms.”

“Terms?”

“The Glass Flowers want to keep the site to themselves. But too many other powers are already aware of it. We will politely force the issue, if the imperials and monks haven’t already.”

I paused. Su Li should know how fragile this whole situation was.

“Nobody wants this to devolve into open conflict, but it might all the same. You are welcome to remain by my side as I explore the compound, but if you do decide to venture out on your own, you should ensure you stick with a large group of the less volatile members of our own sect. The vaunted honor of the orthodox sects is unlikely to prevent them from attempting to pick off any of our disciples they catch at a disadvantage.”

Su Li nodded fiercely.

“I won’t let them catch me off guard.”

We chatted about inconsequential things for a time. The duels she’d fought, what sort of traps and trials she might expect inside the temple. I made my excuses after a few minutes, and returned to my room. We’d already beaten most of these topics to death during our conversations after her cultivation sessions with the little mirror still resting in my storage ring.

Instead, I spent my last few hours with Meng Xiao’s jade slip. The sect master’s mental shade provided wordless color commentary as I once more reviewed the six prominent cultivators I’d be dealing with.

And the seventh that I needed to find a way to kill, ideally without plunging us all into open conflict with the Qin Empire.

I felt a surge of amusement at that. A sense of inevitability. The Sect Master’s mental imprint rarely communicated in words.

I probed at it, following the thread of thought. There was a flash of surprise, then an image. A map of the Qin Empire, its lands dyed with half a dozen colors of ink. Wooden figurines being pushed about, then removed from the board. A vision of the Sect Master standing in the shadow of a dragon that was hundreds of feet long. Legions of undead, marching in perfect unison. A wall of lightning that engulfed the horizon.

A pause. Then a flash of suspicion. I dropped the jade slip. What reaction had the Sect Master expected? Anticipatory bloodthirst? Fear?

I wasn’t even sure what he’d communicated. The further I got from the content that had been intentionally placed on the slip, the details of my mission and the relevant parties, the vaguer the information it fed to me became.

Was the imprint on the slip sufficiently like a neural network that it could hallucinate if it didn’t have a real answer to provide? Or was it trying to tell me that the future was a powderkeg? A situation primed to explode into violence, but complex enough that we might fight alongside the Qin, or against them?

All too soon, my last two hours disappeared. My stomach roiled, as I felt the ship begin to decelerate.

Showtime.

I took a deep breath, and looked at my sword. When all you had was a hammer, everything looked like a nail. But wood screws were a crutch for people insufficiently creative with their joinery. After all, the Japanese had proved that a sharp saw and a mallet was all you needed to build anything out of wood. So, really, a sword could be a hammer too in the right circumstances.

Perhaps that metaphor had gotten away from me. My heart beat fast in my chest. These next hours mattered, more than any teaching I’d done.

I clenched my hand so tightly my nails threatened to draw blood. I could do this. I would do this.

I stepped out onto the deck, joining the rest of the sect’s notables, save Elder Cai.

We watched in silence as the ship slowly came to a stop, thousands of feet above our destination. The oily darkness we’d trailed in our wake since Elder Cai had broken out of the sect’s boundaries slowly began to spread, seeping into the wispy clouds around us. The tendrils of living shadow thickened, grew, somehow finding moisture where none existed before.

Soon, they had spread so far we couldn’t even see the temple beneath us, and lightning began to flash within them.

My eyes widened, as I realized what she was doing. Elder Cai had built her own mobile stormcloud. That was what she meant, by the Black Sun’s aerial superiority. If the other three sects objected, she would rain down lightning and darkness upon their earthbound outer disciples. So what if their elders could fly? They couldn’t attack the ship and protect their charges at the same time.

“I do enjoy intimidating the provincials.” Elder Cai said quietly. She’d joined us, after parking the boat. “It's their own fault really, trying to act like a real sect with a single nascent soul cultivator.”

“That’s a little harsh, Elder Cai.” Elder Su replied. “It’s admirable that they have sought to stand on their own two feet, even if it’s inevitable that they will kneel before us. There’s no fault in discovering something too valuable to hold onto, not if one has the wisdom to relinquish it to the correct person.”

Eyes fell on me, both from the landing party, and our audience.

“Well then,” I said. “Let’s not keep our admirable sisters waiting.”

I stepped up to the edge of the ship, then onto the railing. I teetered slightly, as I pivoted on my heel. I flashed the assembled sect a smile, my teeth bared.

Then I fell backwards off the edge of the ship.

The last thing I heard, before the dark clouds swallowed me up, was an outer disciple’s voice.

“They don’t expect us to jump too, do they?”

Then I was falling through perfect darkness. Lightning flashed around me, prickling the hairs on my arms in a way that cold no longer could.

Seven seconds passed, and I burst out into the light. I saw the terrain in Elder Cai’s sand-map splayed out beneath me, and angled myself towards the spot of ivory that was the complex’s gates.

A black arrow shot past me. I stared at Elder Su’s slowly shrinking feet, and she dove vertically towards the ground in a perfect superhero flight pose.

Well, two could play that game.

I grabbed my sword from my belt and held it ahead of me like a pull-up bar. Then I rotated my aura, pushing myself towards the ground. I rocketed forward leaving terminal velocity in the dust.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Elder Su raise something to her mouth. A pill? Her skin flashed a dark gray, then she too began falling even faster.

But not half as fast as me. The wind tore at my robes with invisible hands, threatening to pull the top half of my other robe down to my waist-sash. My ponytail waggled about like the tail of a cracked out labrador being introduced to new people, before the leather thong binding my hair simply broke, leaving it flying free in the wind. I stopped actively accelerating as the ground beneath me began to grow larger at an alarming rate.

Shit, this might actually be too fast. I was sure I’d survive the landing, but a broken leg was not what I was going for.

I clutched my sword tight to my chest, locking it under my armpits, and circulated qi in the opposite direction.

The ground kept approaching. The only sign I was slowing at all was the unpleasant pressure beneath my arms.

The last few seconds of the fall were a blur. I could see disciples now, tiny dots of cold white silk against the dun of the mountainside. I aimed for the great ivory archway, so wide it’d been visible even for miles above.

In the last instant, I swung my sword out, aligning it with my right forearm, and exerted my will upon the world.

Not one more inch.

It hurt. For the first time, I felt the limits of my new body. My bicep screamed, and my shoulder felt like it was about to pop out of its socket.

But I stopped.

Three feet above the ground, I hovered in a one-armed iron cross, supported entirely by my sword.

“Greetings, fellow daoists.” I said politely.

A dozen already pale faces turned downright ghostly.

I smiled like a wolf in the henhouse. You cannot fight us. Please, I silently prayed. Please understand that.

To my left, Elder Su crashed into the earth like a descending meteor. A wave of dust exploded outwards with enough force to blind a mortal, the rock pulverized by her impact. An idle part of my mind noted that pill must have made her substantially heavier, not just more durable.

I looked up, and saw that Elder Cai had outdone us all. She descended slowly, wreathed in unnatural darkness, like the Black Sun in miniature. She leaned lazily backwards, treating the cloud of dense shadow shot with sparks of lightning as if it were a magically mobile futon.

The face that wouldn’t have been out of place on a mid-career professor of aerospace engineering took on a new cast, shrouded in unnatural darkness.

As she landed, Meng Daiyu stepped out from her shadow.

To my right, a bolt of lightning struck the earth. When the flash vanished, Fang Xiao stood in its place.

One of the Glass Flowers coughed, then gagged, struggling to spit out dust. Her fellow disciples shot her a venomous look, but said nothing.

“Greetings, sisters.” Meng Daiyu said. “I hear that your sect has made a great discovery. We are from the Pathless Night, and we are here to help you protect it.”