“Junior Brother! There are more! More people are coming behind us!” Lang whispered in his voice, seeming loud even amongst the footsteps.

  Hao turned to look, seeing a dozen people running at them from behind. Yao was far behind them, standing there, her arm wrapped in a bandage. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay behind with Bao, Senior—”

  Lang looked forward to putting his blood-covered sword away. There was still some doubt in his voice; his words denied it. “Yao is delaying this, Meng Hongyu, you were worried about. It’s strange to say after distrusting her for all this time, but I don’t think she will go back on her word… Bao would want me to complete this trial. I know she will survive. If I beat Junior Brother to the end, I will share the Peach-Takers’ legacy with her…”

  Hao laughed, “Senior, I’m sorry to say, but I don’t think you will beat me.”

  Hao panted, his breath fighting him as he forced half-asleep muscles to work. “Well, we have a lot to deal with before then anyway…”

  Lang nodded his head. “We just keep going forward, reach the end. Those who win the trial will remain, the rest will be sent out… They will be more civil, and it will be safer outside. Maybe Yao will be even more trustworthy now that we defended her.”

  Hao looked over at the older man. He had a few questions on his mind, but lacked the time to ask them, “Maybe…” Hao shook his hand as he ran, trying to get the memory of the spine shattering out of his fingers. Taking a breath, he processed all the things Yao told them before a man stumbled upon them and called for help.

  **

  For a good while, Hao let Yao speak. Her statements were long-winded and full of semantic explanations, a fair thing when talking about the human soul and the Immortal soul. Half the things she said weren’t words meant for human communication. At least Hao thought so, and he prided himself a bit on his education. Spirit Qi feeds the core and can refine Soul-power to enrich the soul. Those explanations, long or short, only seemed to raise more questions before any answer surfaced. “I don’t quite get most of it myself. I was told it’s hard to understand until after Reclamation…” Yao told him, so he got her to move on.

  The over-explaining wasn’t welcome for other topics. Words about the north, for example. She didn’t bother hiding her familiarity any longer, mentioning the desert casually like it was nothing special. For Hao and Lang, it was. Hao was still new to the land, having seen two forests and one river, and the only town he saw was through a screen window with gaps as wide as his finger.

  As for Lang, his face told it all, knowing the south and all its lands. Yet hearing of a world of hot sand that stretches beyond the eye like the ocean seemed impossible, but there was no lie or hesitation in her words. Instead, there was a fondness, a nostalgia, and a longing. That alone made them believe her.

  Once they moved on to Meng Hongyu, the man Hao called Swordface for at least a few days now, she cared even less for him than Hao did, it seemed. The same for the Blue Moons Mountain Sect. She looked almost disdainful—bored, speaking about it.

  “It doesn’t have anything to do with the Blue Moons Mountain Sect Master—he isn’t doing it. I’m not sure if he does anything—he hasn’t been back in the Sect since long before I arrived. He is with the other Sect Masters of the Southern tip, fighting with the Soaring Sect in their civil war. It should be the same with your sects.”

  Hao knew nothing about any of that. He arrived on land for the first time not even a year ago, if his time was right. Joining the Sect just after being rejected from the Temple of Water. He had heard the whispers of war, but he thought that was a normal thing on land.

  Lang spoke, filling the gap of Hao’s knowledge about the Sects and the South Hao that was involved with. He put his sword away as he whispered his words, “Our Sect Master has been there and back. It’s been a few years since he returned. But rumors of someone ringing the Bone-Shaking bell will call him back before long…”

  Hao nearly gulped when Lang mentioned the Bone-Shaking bell. He remembered the trial well. Now with a strange sense of fondness, a nostalgia even for the vile vision and dreams it forced into his mind.

  Yao looked a little confused; it seemed she was unfamiliar with the artifact Lang mentioned, but she continued, chasing an uncertainty from her face. “Well, with the Sect Master gone, the Grand Elder is taking liberties, let’s say. She forged a few alliances, or is trying to, from what I can tell, a few have not gone so well. People like Meng Hongyu with Swordsmanship like that have questionable origins, but they are certainly not from the Southern Tip. That is all I can say…”

  Yao let out a sigh, a look of exhaustion on her face, done with the answers, but the question kept coming. She grabbed Hao’s fingers. Lightly pulling him to the ground. She began rubbing a powder on the cuts and gouges on his hand and arm.

  “Is this the medicine?” Hao asked, feeling a slight sting as she applied it.

  “Yes,” she said, “It’s not a lot, a few different spiritual herbs, some prepared and others raw.”

  Hao winced until a fine layer of this powder was applied to his wounds. He asked, “Can you tell me how it’s made…”

  The conversation became more civil for a few moments. A sense of solidarity that the group hadn’t felt until this very moment, despite the days of traveling together. Yao told Hao how the medicine was made, then gave Lang a pinch before saying she would apply a fair amount to Bao. Her words seemed a promise.

  Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

  The words seemed to bring discomfort to Lang. He began to ask questions again, the same ones already answered.

  “That’s all I know about it, I don’t ask anymore of myself.” Yao looked between Lang and Hao, her fingers working. She had some cloth that was cut thin and pulled into makeshift bandages.

  The three took a moment to relax, Lang less so, and Yao was still a little on edge. It was just as Hao took his breath that he heard a series of footsteps already close.

  Two sets of steps, but only one person came around the corner, moving fast. Hao saw him before he could warn Lang and Yao. He wore a white cloak that was unadorned and undecorated. He ran forward, but glancing over to the three, his step stuttered. “Senior Sister Yao Feng… why are you with them…”

  Yao was just tying off the bandage. Lang instantly reacted, and Hao too, standing before the bandage was tucked.

  “You’re a traitor…” The new person looked back down the tunnel, his voice as loud as it could get. “UP HERE, The right path, the one we’re looking for, sister Yao Feng…” his words broke as blood splattered from his neck.

  Both Hao and Lang moved, jumping instantly into action, swallowing the World Energy around them as they leapt.

  Hao’s palm burrowed into the man’s back, pushing his hand into the hard bones between the man’s shoulder blades. Vertebrae popped like fallen dry twigs beneath feet. The man’s head flung as his chest hit the stone walls of the chamber. That wasn’t all. Lang drew his blade before the man’s body could slump. The sharp sword poking through the man’s Adam’s apple. His words about Yao turned into a fountain bursting red, painting the tunnel walls.

  As they both retreated, the next set of footsteps was there, the voice of the man who belonged to the footsteps began to call down, repeating part of the dead man’s words.

  Hao looked back, but couldn’t see him. He hadn’t turned the corner yet, but was calling down to the rest of the group. He was about to go back and stop the man, but Lang grabbed his arm.

  “Wait… It might be worse for them to see us with Yao than to leave her behind…”

  Hao watched as Yao took out her sword. It glinted in the dark, drawing a shallow red line along her forearm. The wound was just deep enough to bleed, but before any blood spilled, she pressed down on it and fell to the side from her sitting position. Her robe was artfully disheveled. By the time the footsteps rounded the corner, she was panting, rolling over on her side, wide eyes turning away from Lang and Hao.

  The man saw a damsel in distress in the form of Yao. He ran forward clumsily, shouting and showing his gnashing white teeth. His finger stretched out as he yelled about Hao. And now Lang, who turned quickly, presumably to hide his face.

  “Let’s go…” Lang said, and the two in their blue robes started running as a chasing crowd gathered behind them.

  **

  The two ran, and more gathered behind them by the second. More people stood to chase down two human men than to fight inhuman, demonic beasts.

  “Are they coming this way to kill me or to chase the trial?”

  “Both Junior Brother… I’ve heard this a few times. Put a chicken and a man in front of the Cultivator, like us, like them, and he will kill both and eat the chicken.”

  Hao looked over at the shrugging Lang, “That’s not a great story.”

  “Look behind us and say the story is wrong. Do they have the desperate faces of people who want revenge, or do you see rabid dogs out for a meal and to fetch a ball?”

  Hao just pulled his head back, but he was curious, so he looked over his shoulder. All of them, men and women, had the look of wild animals. They stood upright, ran on two legs, arms swinging, weapons held high, and forward. Their teeth glistened in the dark, grins or sagging lips—Hao could imagine spittle strung off, their chins dripping.

  Far back, behind them, on the other side of the chamber now. A few people stood around Yao, helping tend to her arm. Yao was talking to one man, who looked eager to run ahead. His shadow seemed to battle Yao in the dim blue light of spirit stones—Meng Hongyu. That face ravaged by spores with the bold streaking eyebrows was unmistakable. Yao and the people tending to her stood in the path of him and those behind him. His hand twitched, the sword wrapped in his fingers bouncing hungrily. Yao didn’t budge—her lips moved fast. From a distance, all her words were drowned in the chaotic breathing of those who chased. Whatever she said, Meng Hongyu wasn’t moving for now.

  “If Junior brother still doesn’t like the idea of it, just think about yourself. Don’t you get hungry? Is there anybody you would happily send to the Nether realm?” Lang said, picking up pace as they reached the end of the large chamber they had been in for a while.

  Hao pushed ahead of Lang, and they turned down twisting tunnels, passing more chambers until they reached the end of the twists and turns, following the light that was shining across the ceiling.

  They ran a while without a word, the sound of their feet mixing with the curses of those behind them. “The end of the trial should be just ahead.”

  “How does the Senior Brother know?” Hao asked, looking up at the light on the ceiling that seemed to stretch forever.

  Lang stared, his expression didn’t shift, almost like he didn’t hear Hao’s voice, “just up ahead…” Lang started gaining distance, running faster with a sense of urgency he had only for his wife.

  Hao started scratching his neck. His head turned more than once to check behind him. It felt like something much larger than the feral people chasing them was following close behind. It had massive looming eyes and made the tortoise from before seem small. There was nothing there to find. A cold feeling began to fill Hao’s stomach with each step. He started to slow down and found it hard to stop going forward.

  Finally… A voice like a winter-chilled gong echoed in his head. The stream of light on the ceiling started to narrow. They were getting closer to the source. Another hole that drew his eye. It was just another tunnel entrance, the only difference between it and all the others was a glow that grew brighter with flashing light as they approached. That feeling Hao got from memories, the curse that was inside the trial pass, started moving again. A writhing he couldn’t control, it began to slip through his fingers, but he held it, digging in his fingers into the fibrous, ephemeral flesh of the non-existent eels that fought against him. A vision of a night sky forcing its way into his head. Lavender leaves floated in his vision.

  “Senior…” Hao called out.

  Lang still seemed incapable of hearing him. He kept his pace. Running forward with reckless abandon, his eyes wide open. He went first beyond the entrance.