Chapter 138
Changing Tides
A candle's wax fell chaotically, forming strange structures beneath the flames that would melt as soon as they would complete, restarting the process from scratch thereafter. Weapons, buildings, people, monsters, apparitions, and abominations—all would have their turn in a cycle that never seemed to end. Over and over, for innumerable years lost to the visage of time. There were no records, after all, of when the candle itself was made; as far back as the word went, it was always there, always melting, rebuilding, creating new things, a providence with no history.
Xiao Ling had been tasked with watching over the candle for two weeks now and had realized why the position paying so heftily in the Sect remained open for days on end before he took it—there was nothing to do, and he wasn't even allowed to cultivate while overseeing the candle, much less anything else.
And though, for a day, he found the candle's magical nature rather interesting, he quickly recognized that most of the things that it 'created' were inconsequential, at best. A strange Demonic Beast here and there, a beautiful woman once or twice, but nothing else besides them.
However, when he accepted the role, he accepted it for a whole year and not a day less. He would have to halt his cultivation for an entire year and, in turn, be showered in besotting riches right after; at the time, it felt like a compelling thought, but each subsequent day dulled the compulsion further and further.
He felt today would be like any other day—the candlelight would flicker, the wax would mold into any number of random things, and he would draw an inch or two closer to jumping out of the nearby window. By now, he was barely half-paying attention to the wax and whatever it formed, though it was his duty. He'd only glance over here and there to confirm it was still burning and would look away toward the wall right after. However, in one of those 'mandatory' glances, he spotted something... familiar.
Jolting, he pushed himself off the ground and walked over, taking a closer look at the waxing face that sat slowly being made beneath the burning flame. He frowned rather deeply, having recognized it; rather, he was shocked how long it took him to recognize the face of his Senior Brother, the man who tortured him and was one of the reasons Xiao Ling decided to take this position.
Ordinarily, he would have loathed even having to glimpse the face in paintings, yet such a feeling did not exist—for Lei Feng's face was contorted into an expression of horror, unwillingness, and desperation. It was the face of a man dying and vanishing, but... it made no sense. Even if Lei Feng was an annoying bully, at best, he was still someone at Nascent Soul Realm, and a rather shrewd one at that, having never picked a fight with someone he could not bully.
He sought people precisely like Xiao Ling—low cultivation, no family name, no strong backing—and avoided anyone who could fire back. Most confusing of all, however, was that he thought Lei Feng was sent southward to investigate a supposed appearance of a False Immortal outside of the Central Ashlands.
Whether there was one or not was quite irrelevant—nobody should have had the capacity to kill him, not even that False Immortal. And yet, of all the things that it was (boring, namely), the candle was never wrong—the wax only formed shapes of truth, however disbelieving they made those bearing witness to its make.
He had two options: report it... or pretend he never saw it. If he reported it, there was a good chance that an Inquisitor would be sent southward, charged with eradicating whatever dared to fight back. But knowing Lei Feng, Xiao Ling was beyond certain that he'd 'deserved it.' And whoever killed him did a favor to dozens of other people who suffered under the bully's thumb.
However, if he didn't report it, and the news still went around, he might be accused of keeping it hidden. Though he could simply say he 'missed it' or that he was distracted and would only likely suffer a minor punishment (after all, he hardly suspected they expected people in here to pay attention to the candle every second of every day), it would still be a tar on his reputation, however feeble it was.
Even if he were to report it, however, he couldn't do so immediately—not until the grin he knew his lips were curled into was gone.
**
"Master?" One exclaimed in surprise as he noticed the shadow stir from the corner and shape into a familiar silhouette. "What are you doing here? What if you are caught?"
"Won't happen," the figure replied. "The Envoy was just killed."
"... what? Who?"
"Holy Blade."
"Even so," One frowned. "No, that's impossible. Though Yu Minge is unmatched within the Soul Ascendance Realm, even with the Blade's help, he wouldn't stand a chance against someone at the Nascent Soul Realm. You said so yourself."
"And it still holds true," the voice was coarse and deep and cracking. His Master had always been an enigmatic figure, so much so that he only ever met the man in person twice—when he was first recruited and when Seven was murdered. "Holy Blade that I know would stand no chance, not in the slightest. And yet, he succeeded. I caught the tail end of the resonance and did manage to confirm something at least: Yu Minge is, at least, at quasi-Nascent Soul Realm."
"..." One felt himself freeze for a moment as his mind reeled. Ever since he was a kid all those decades ago, he put the ever-ethereal figure of the Holy Blade as his goal, his eventuality to catch. And, over the years, he found himself growing closer and closer in strength to the man, but this... "Did... did he undergo Enlightenment in the secluded isolation?"
"Even if he did," his Master said. "I have never heard someone leap that far ahead, unless they were at Foundation Establishment or, at best, Core Formation."
"Then..."
"I suspect it has something to do with the Forest."
"Forest, again."
"We need to investigate it."
"I'll go--"
"--no. Impossible."
"But--"
"You are vastly too important for our cause to sacrifice," he said. "And your Aura is too reminiscent of mine. I have no doubts that the Spirits would recoil and recognize."
"Wouldn't they be on our side?" It was a question he asked his Master countless times, as it made sense to him. They were honoring the Spirits' original Masters, trying to reconcile humanity's sin the best they could.
"... no," his Master always answered thusly and never elaborated further. "Send Six."
"He's not ready."
"It's perhaps better that way," his Master said. "Might yield the least suspicion. If there is something stirring in the Forest capable of forging Immortals, the sheen of the entire Ashlands will change completely."
"It would commence a war."
"A war unlike any other," Master echoed the sentiment. "The powers-that-be would never allow any force capable of usurping their reign to fester."
"A hollow heap of traitors," One growled.
"Though they may be that, they are numerous and vastly stronger than any other force in the world. No, all other forces in the world combined. That's why, if there is something capable of forging Immortals that exists outside the Central Ashlands, we either need to kill it or, at least, beg it to stop."
"... yes, Master," One nodded. "I'll inform Six immediately."
"Hm. I have discovered the source of the skies."
"What is it?"
"Primordial Seas have opened up," the Master said. "It has just now begun reaching the Central Ashlands. The few figures aware of what it represents are probably sitting with puckered assholes right about now. Stay safe, Tian'er," his Master added in a rare, affectionate tone. "We must endure until the end of our story."
"... yes, Master."
**
Leo frowned and glanced over eastward.
For some reason, he felt a strange kind of resonance stir far in the distance, his heart growing weary with worry for a moment—after all, that was the direction of the Holy Blade Sect as far as he knew, and he wondered whether the kids and Lu Yang were alright.
"Uncle Leo?" Shui'er quizzed suddenly as he stopped pouring her breakfast. "Is everything alright?"
"Hm? Ah, yes, sorry. Just thought I heard something," he quickly recovered, pouring the rest of the ladle and smiling. "Hm? Where is Hino?"
"In his room," Shui'er said.
"... what'd you do, Shui'er?"
"I didn't do anything!"
"Shui'er."
"..."
"..."
"I... I called him stupid," she buzzed the words out and kneaded her head between her shoulders, trying to make herself seem as small as possible.
"Why'd you do that?"
"Because he was being stupid!" she exclaimed. "I went out of my way to invite him to play, and he didn't want to do it!"
"Right."
"All he does is sit in his stupid room or sit out here and look stupid, too! He's stupid, stupid!"
"Hm." Leo smiled faintly and gently petted the top of her head. "So, your feelings got hurt."
"I... I didn't say that," she said, sitting further down. Hino had been standing the whole while right behind her, looking every bit guilty.
"It's okay," Leo said. "I'm sure that, if you told him this, he would apologize."
"... I shouldn't have to tell him!" She was rather obstinate, but, then again, most kids that Leo ever knew (which, in fairness, were very few) were.
"Ah, I'm afraid it's never that easy," Leo said. "Sometimes, people will hurt us on purpose. But, most of the time... they don't mean to. I know for a fact that Hino was really happy that you welcomed him so warmly." The boy's cheeks stirred red as Leo chuckled silently. "So, how about you two sit down together, have a meal, and then go play?"
"... I, I'll go and ask him again," Shui'er said.
"That's okay. He's been here the whole time."
"...!!" The young girl leapt to her feet and, in horror, saw the boy standing just behind her. She quickly whipped her head over and faced Leo, her cheeks puffing like a squirrel's, eyes watery with tears. "I HATE YOU!!" she screamed before bolting away, past the boy, and into the longhouse, whipping dirt and dust behind her.
Leo caught himself, recognizing that he probably was being a bit too mean. Looking over at Hino, the boy, too, seemed to be on the verge of calling him mean and possibly something stronger than that.
"It's your turn now," Leo said; he didn't think she'd react this badly, but it was the plan all along. "Go and nod along as she keeps on saying just how awful I am."
"... y-you, you did that for me?" he asked.
"For you? No. For the peace of the Forest, mostly," he said. "Shui'er can be... loud, let's say, if her mood is sour. Here," he handed a plate and two cups of juice to the boy, who took them rather awkwardly, stumbling in place. "Why are you hiding from her, anyway?"
"I... I'm not hiding," he said. "She can just be... a bit too much."
"Ah. Yeah. But, you know, she usually just tires herself out. All she's really asking is that you're there, with her. And maybe to put on some muscles so you can carry her when she passes out from being too tired."
The boy winced and looked at him angrily for a moment before turning and running into the longhouse, too. Leo discovered a rather surprising talent that he was unaware of before—apparently, he was rather good at making kids angry. It wasn't a very useful talent, or a rare one, either, as it didn't take much to make eleven-year-olds angry, but he could think of a few uses. Any time he'd want to be left alone, for instance, it would come in handy, but he couldn't overdo it. There was a fine line between being slightly mean and being neglectful. And though woefully unprepared, it was a role he was clearly being cast into.
More and more, he realized, Shui'er stopped treating him as a strange 'uncle.' She didn't want an uncle. She just wanted... a parent. And, for better or worse (mostly worse), he was all that she had.
Sighing, he took a swig of juice and glanced eastward again, silently praying that the kids were alright. This time around, he had no artifacts to give them for protection, as system rewards had been rather stingy when it came to items that others could use. But he trusted that neither Xiaoling nor Yu Minge would let anything happen to them and safely stored the worries deep into his mind, turning his attention elsewhere—the ashen clouds were changing, growing darker and thicker. It was subtle, but as someone who kept rather detailed notes on them from the start, he'd started noticing the changes two days ago. Any change was a worrying sort at this point, as it alluded to the chance of unpredictability, his greatest foe yet.