Perched atop a formidable peak as the fortress was, he commanded a sweeping vist of the valley below. Lanterns glowed like scattered embers, hues of rose, azure, and violet painting the deepening sky, their light shimmering on the serpentine river and outlining the snow-laden pines that carpeted the landscape. A biting wind howled, sending snowflakes dancing in a swirling ballet.
Here, he and his brothers found a semblance of solitude, shielded from the prying eyes of the mortal world. Here, they could come and go without facing a barrage of questions. Why do you never age? Why do screams echo through the forest each night? Why do you sometimes bear the visage of a demon?
Here, the local villagers kept their distance, with a mixture of awe and fear in their eyes. "Immortals," he had even heard them whisper during a rare encounter with a mortal woodcutter.
If only they knew the truth.
Jiang Lang's nails elongated slightly, digging into the cold stone. Their mountain retreat was a place of stark beauty, ancient charm, and quiet solitude, yet he had always felt detached from the vibrant life that teemed in the valley below. From the bustling market towns to the serene monasteries nestled in the foothills.
Perhaps that sense of disconnection would dissipate if he ever ventured beyond the fortress walls, but unlike his brothers who roamed freely, he was bound to this sanctuary and the surrounding lands as surely as Kuang Bao had been trapped within the Xuanhuang Box million years ago.
His nails grew longer still, that they were almost talons now.
The mere thought of the box always poisoned his mood. Rend the stone, Kuang Bao urged, a dark whisper in his mind. Destroy something. Hurt, kill. He would have relished the chance to obliterate the celestial court, one by one. Decapitate them, perhaps. Rip out their cold, immortal hearts, most certainly.
The demon purred its approval.
Of course it purrs now, Jiang Lang thought with disgust. Any act of bloodshed, regardless of the victims, met with the creature's enthusiastic support. Scowling, he cast another venomous glance toward the heavens. He and the demon had been bound together long ago, but the memory of that day remained vivid. The screams of the innocent ringing in his ears, mortals bleeding all around him, writhing in agony as demonic spirits devoured their flesh in a frenzied feast.
Only when Kuang Bao had been forced into his body did the world fade into an all-consuming darkness. There had been no sounds, no sights, only an abyssal void. He had not regained his senses until xuanhuang keeper's blood splattered his chest, her final breath was a haunting echo in his ears.
She had not been his first kill , nor his last – but she had been the first and only woman to fall by his blade. The horror of seeing that once-vibrant form of her broken and knowing he was responsible… To this day, the guilt, the regret, the shame, and the sorrow remained a festering wound.
He had sworn then to exert whatever control he could over the demon, but it had been too late. Enraged beyond measure, the Jade Emperor had inflicted a second curse upon him: every night at the hour of the rat, he would die exactly as xuanhuang keeper had died – a blade through the stomach, six agonizing times. The only difference was, her torment had ended within moments.
His torment would last for eternity.
He cracked his jaw, attempting to quell a fresh wave of aggression. He was not the only one to suffer, he reminded himself. His brothers bore their own demons – both literal and figurative. Lin Fan, of course, was the keeper of Disease. Luo Chen was the embodiment of Death. Bai Long, the vessel of Pain. Yan Lie, the host of Wrath. Feng Yue, the prisoner of Promiscuity.
Why could he not have been burdened with that last one? He would have been free to journey to the nearest town whenever he desired, take any woman who caught his eye, savoring every sound, every touch and satisfy his male urges.
As it was, he could never stray far from the fortress. Nor could he trust himself around women for any length of time. If the demon were to seize control, or if he could not return home before the hour of the rat and someone were to discover his lifeless, bloodied body and bury him – or worse, cremate him…
How he wished such an act would end his miserable existence. He would have departed long ago and allowed himself to be consumed by flames in a funeral pyre. Or perhaps he would have leapt from the fortress's highest tower and shattered his skull upon the rocks below. But no. No matter the method, he would merely awaken once again, charred and aching, broken and pierced.
"You have been staring at that window for a long while," Lin Fan observed. "Are you not even curious as to what has transpired?"
Jiang Lang blinked, dragged back from the abyss of his thoughts. "You are still here?"
His friend arched a finely sculpted brow, the black a stark contrast to his silver hair. "I believe the answer to my query is no. Are you at least… composed now?"
Was he ever truly composed? "As composed as a creature such as I can be."
"Cease your lamentations. There is something I must show you, and do not attempt to refuse me this time. We can discuss my reasons for disturbing your solitude along the way." Without another word, Lin Fan turned on his heel and strode from the chamber.
Jiang Lang remained rooted to the spot for several heartbeats, watching his friend disappear around the corner. Cease your lamentations, Lin Fan had said. Yes, that was precisely what he had been doing. A flicker of curiosity and a wry amusement managed to pierce his dark mood, and Jiang Lang stepped from the training chamber into the hallway. A cold draft of air swirled around him, thick with moisture and the crisp scent of pine. He spied Lin Fan a short distance ahead and moved swiftly to catch up.
"What is this about?"
"Finally. You're interested," was the only reply.
"If this is one of your jests…" Like the time Lin Fan had procured dozens of painted silk dolls and placed them throughout the fortress, all because Feng Yue had foolishly moaned for the lack of female companionship in their isolated abode. The painted "ladies" had leered from every corner, their suggestive smiles and vacant eyes were constant, mocking presence.
Such diversions occurred when Lin Fan grew bored.
"I would not waste my time attempting to jest with you," Lin Fan said without turning. "You, my friend, possess no appreciation for the beauties"
True.
As Jiang Lang matched his pace, ancient stone walls stretched on either side of the room, their surfaces illuminated by flickering sconces, the dancing flames weaving patterns of shadow and gold. The Fortress of the Damned, as Lin Fan had morbidly christened and named their sanctuary, had been erected centuries ago. Though they had introduced modern comforts, its age was evident in the crumbling mortar and the worn flagstones beneath their feet.
"Where is everyone?" Jiang Lang asked, only then realizing the absence of his other brothers.
"One would assume Feng Yue would be seeking provisions, as our stores are nearly depleted and that is his sole responsibility, yet no. He is likely in the nearest village, pursuing another fleeting infatuation."
Fortunate wretch. Bound as he was to the spirit of Promiscuity, Feng Yue could never lie with the same woman twice, and so he sought a new conquest – or two, or three – each day. The only drawback? If he failed to find a willing partner, he was reduced to acts Jiang Wei preferred not to contemplate, acts that left the normally jovial man retching over a chamber pot.
Though Jiang Lang's envy waned during such moments, it invariably returned when Feng Yue recounted the silken touch of skin, the soft sighs and moans of pleasure.
"Yan Lie is… Prepare yourself," Lin Fan began, his tone shifting, "for this is the primary reason I asked you out."
"Has something befallen him?" Jiang Lang demanded, a sudden darkness eclipsing his thoughts, the familiar tendrils of anger coiling within him. Destroy, obliterate, Kuang Bao hissed, its claws scraping at the edges of his sanity. "Is he injured?"
Immortal Yan Lie might be, but he was not invulnerable. Even death, they had all discovered, was a possibility, learned in the most brutal of ways.
"Nothing of that nature," Lin Fan assured him.
Slowly, Jiang Lang's tense muscles relaxed, the shadow of Violence receding. "What then? Another outburst followed by shattered furniture?" Each warrior here had designated duties, a fragile framework of order amidst the chaos of their cursed existence. Yan Lie's task was maintaining the fortress, a duty he complained about with relentless fervor. Jiang Lang oversaw structural repairs and businesses. Lin Fan managed their finances, dabbling in arcane markets. Luo Chen handled all necessary documentation, and Bai Long procured their weaponry.
"The celestial court… summoned him."
Jiang Lang stumbled, the unexpected words momentarily blinding him. "What?" Surely he had misheard.
"The celestial court summoned him," Lin Fan repeated patiently.
But the Jade Emperor and his court had remained silent since the day of xuanhuang keeper's death. "What did they desire? And why am I only hearing of this now?"
"Firstly, no one knows their purpose. We were watching a shadow play when he suddenly straightened, his expression blank, as if his spirit had departed. Then, moments later, he announced his summons. None of us had time to react – one moment Yan Lie was with us, the next he was gone."
"And secondly," Lin Fan added with barely a pause, "I attempted to inform you. You claimed you did not care, do you recall?"
A muscle twitched beneath Jiang Lang's eye. "You should have told me regardless."
"While you were surrounded by heavy training implements? I think not. I am Bing Mo, not a fool."
This was… this was… Jiang Lang did not wish to contemplate the implications, yet his mind raced regardless. Sometimes Yan Lie, the master of Wrath, would lose all control, embarking on vengeful rampages, punishing mortals for perceived slights. Was he now to be burdened with a second curse for his transgressions, as Jiang Lang had been centuries ago?
"If he does not return in the same form he departed, I will find a way to breach the celestial gates and slaughter every divine being I encounter."
"Your eyes are glowing crimson," Lin Fan observed. "Look, we are all perplexed, but Yan Lie will return soon and enlighten us."