Whiteriver town lay in the remnants of the old Sunlight Empire. Before the Otherworlders, as Old Gran had spoken of her grandfather's time, they were descendants of great lords, powerful men—but ordinary. Now, only broken remains of scattered towns remained.
The nearest city where Otherworlders gathered was Luoyang city. The words felt foreign within his mouth, for it was the language of the Otherworlders.
From the few merchants, tinkerers, and travelers that came through Whiteriver, they had heard of the monstrous city, where immortals broke seas and shaped mountains. They had not believed it, Aurel had not believed it—until the fateful night.
Aurel walked down the snow-covered road, spear in hand. Around him, snow drifted amongst fallen trees with few signs of life except for the occasional chatter of winter mammals.
He would travel to this Luoyang city. Only where these Otherworlders gathered would he be able to kill them. He needed information most of all. What these Otherworlders were, how they lived, their powers.
The law of storms he had been given was powerful—but not omniscient. He needed to be careful.
Will of the World, Aurel said.
Yes? It responded.
What is this power that the cultivators have?
Qi, The Will said.
Can I use it? Aurel asked.
No. Same energy. Different form.
What does that mean?
Qi and Mana and System same. All natural energy. To anomalies, different. To you—same.
Will they know I am a native of this world?
The Will seemed to ponder.
Don't know. It finally said. Sorry.
He had to be even more careful then. Just more information he needed, keeping a low profile while doing so.
Whistling as he walked, hours passed along the snow-covered road. The sun sailed across its journey, hazy above storm clouds that drifted along the sky. A hand rested on a blue iris flower, sometimes tracing the cold metal, for it gave him courage and calm.
As he walked, Aurel continued to attempt to control the lightning. It was like a boundless energy within him, erupting in an instant when he attempted to draw upon it. Within his hands, he formed small pools of it, attempting to shape and control its form and output.
It was at dusk that he met someone on the road: a lone figure with a sheathed sword and sky-blue robes. It was a similar outfit to those of Lin Xua and his son.
An arrogant smile greeted him first, as well as a flippant wave of the hand.
"Are you a native?"
Slowing his step, Aurel shook his head. A native, he thought. The Otherworlders call us natives.
"I am Zhang Wei from the Heavenly Blossom Sect," he said. He performed a particular bow, one hand clasped above a fist before his face. "Where do you hail from?"
"I have just arrived," Aurel said.
"Just arrived? Are you—a newcomer? What world did you come from?"
Zhang Wei's smile fell to one of desperation, as though searching for an answer.
World? Aurel shook his head instead of answering. At his answer, Zhang Wei seemed saddened.
"Senior? Shall I escort you to the Heavenly Blossom Sect? They can provide all the information you need."
Aurel motioned closer. Zhang Wei tilted his head, but stepped inside.
With the butt of his spear, Aurel slammed the metal into Zhang Wei's temple. The man almost dodged, the metal glancing off his head, but it was enough. In a flurry of silk, Zhang Wei fell, unconscious.
Dragging the man away from the road, he created a trail through the winter snow into the forest. Hearing the small trickling of a creak, Aurel dragged the man to the rocks where a fine line of water, ice cold, was running.
He splashed water onto Zhang Wei's face. The man woke up screaming and scrambling, but Aurel pressed him down to the ground with his spear.
"Who are you!" he said, trembling. He began to press his hands together. "Please, spare me, senior! I am just a weak cultivator, I have no valuables. I can tell you everything, everything, I swear."
Aurel stared at the tears pouring out of the man's eyes. Were all cultivators this weak-willed?
"Stop acting." Aurel struck Zhang Wei's face.
The man fell, hissing at the blow. But as Aurel threatened to slam the spear down once more, he promptly stopped his tears and knelt down before him.
"What do you want Senior?"
"Where am I?" Aurel felt it best to pose as an Otherworlder. It seemed it was a common occurrence for these Otherworlders, as Zhang Wei did not seem to be afraid for his life.
"This is the Blue World, Senior," Zhang Wei. "We don't know exactly what has happened, but the immortals believe the Heavenly Dao abandoned us in this universe. All of us who were given second chances, reincarnation, transmigration, we were all put in this world. We're all in the same situation." He began to smile, attempting to extend his hand. "Senior, I can explain—"
"What is—reincarnation?"
"Reincarnation?" For the first time, Zhang Wei's confidence fell. "Reincarnation?"
"Yes." Aurel pushed the spear forward, keeping his senses alive for any danger. There was none.
Zhang Wei took a deep breath. "Reincarnation is another life. Born again. From our original worlds, before we were taken. Either that, transmigration or regressing or other violations of time. Didn't you experience the, the same, senior?"
Aurel retracted his spear, inspecting the man.
Zhang Wei watched as the weird man stared at him. What was this cultivator? It was just his luck that he had met one of those psychos. He had heard of a few cultivators who, unable to handle the transportation, began to slaughter anyone around them.
But Zhang Wei could do nothing as this foreign man stared at him with emotionless eyes. Was he at the foundation stage? Beyond?
"So you guys came from another world," Aurel said. "Then placed here. And in your world, you did this reincarnation?"
"Yes…"
Aurel thought. That meant these Otherworlders, as the Will had said, had broken their own timelines, then were placed in his world.
"And what is this power you use?" Aurel said.
"Power?"
Aurel motioned at the man, at the wisp of strength he had felt Zhang Wei attempt to use when he had attacked.
"This energy, this power… what is it?"
"Energy… Qi?" The man stared, his mouth unable to close. "S-Senior… are you not a cultivator?"
Aurel said no more. Qi, this man called it. He had heard that these cultivators used it, and this confirmed it. How was this different from magic, then?
"Then what is mana?" Aurel questioned. The man's blood fled from his face. But soon, a weird sound erupted from him. A laugh.
"Who are you?" he finally exclaimed. "Are you a Unique?"
"Unique?"
"Those who are special. They retained their boons after coming here. Like a system. Hah! You'll be captured soon enough by the Heavenly Blossom Sect. They have elders in the Nascent stage. It's over, you understand." He began to laugh again. "To see a Unique, it's truly an honor."
"Then answer my questions," Aurel said. It seemed a Unique was another type of Otherworlder. Perhaps they didn't use magic or qi. But if it caused this man to answer his questions, he would use it.
"If you did reincarnate, why are you so—weak?"
"Because life is unfair." The man had lost all semblance of fear and had begun speaking in madness. "I was destined for greatness! I had lost everything to a sect in my previous world, the demonic Blood Moon sect. After being killed, I was reincarnated miraculously in another body! It was my second chance! But before I could do anything, I was pulled here. Swept away, just as you were, into the wilderness. Outer members of the Heavenly Blossom Sect found me. They were respectful at first, but upon finding I had been expelled just minutes after my reincarnation, they laughed. Took me away, through me here into the city."
"If only!" The man's qi was in turmoil. "If only I were lucky and stayed in my world until the foundation stage. Some people you see," This man is crazy, Aurel thought. "The time that people are taken from the world is different. Some are taken as soon as they are reincarnated. Others stay in their world, gathering strength, before coming here. I was unlucky! The heavens threw me into hell."
Aurel began to collect his thoughts.
But before he did so, he cut cleanly through Zhang Wei's collapsed form, cutting through his neck. The man fell simply into death.
Aurel had gained valuable information from him.
These cultivators were a type of Otherworlder, using this energy called qi. It seemed there were stages to this cultivation they did.
The process by which these Otherworlders came to his world was convoluted, confusing, but Aurel understood to some extent. It made sense why Lin Xua, the first cultivator, had been so weak. These otherworlders, reincarnating, regressing, transmigrating—what these entailed, Aurel wasn't quite sure—had broken their timelines. The time of their removal was apparently random, and thus some were transported before their powers manifested fully.
Aurel stripped off Zhang Wei's robes, cleaning off the patches of blood that had already crystallized on the cloth. He donned it before throwing the body into the stream. It was barely covered by the rushing water. Finally, he tied his hair behind him as the dead man had done.
Satisfied by his reflection in the moonlight, Aurel inspected the other belongings. There was the sword, a small pouch, and a wooden tablet.
He threw the sword away, but as he inspected the small pouch, he was unable to reach inside. He turned it upside down, but nothing fell, even though he felt that something was inside. Perhaps—
Aurel felt the natural energy within him rush toward his hand, and a small wisp entered the pouch. It had worked. Within his mind, he felt the pouch was unlocked, and he could feel the items within it. There were some pills, coins, a small paper slip, herbs, a spare sword. He willed the herbs to come out, and after a second, the herbs materialized.
For a moment, Aurel stared down at the herbs, fresh within his hands that smelled of the earth, then to the small pouch, then back again.
Truly—these otherworlders should not live on this earth. This mysterious, incredible invention that had been given to a weak cultivator such as Zhang Wei msot likely meant it was widespread. Just one could have changed how the natives lived. But Aurel had never even heard of it.
But at least it seemed what the Will of the World had told him had been true. His natural energy most likely reacted the same as the qi these cultivators used.
Tucking the pouch inside the robes, he finally inspected the wooden tablet. The tablet was gilded, marked with carved blossoms and a mysterious language Aurel could not read. It was most likely an identification tablet, for Zhang Wei had said he was part of the Heavenly Blossom Sect. Keeping it in case of an emergency, Aurel began to make his way across the snow, back to the road.
For six days and nights, Aurel traveled in the daylight. He lived off the land, drinking water from clear, cold springs and picking berries from the bushes. He once hunted a small snow hare that had sprang from the bushes. By using the storms, he had been able to start a small fire for which to cook.
As he walked, the snow slowly drifted away, the ground thawing. It was still winter, but it was as though the weather had been shifted. It was then, on the seventh day, that Aurel saw the city in the distance.
Luoyang City soared above the plains in a brilliant white. In concentric circles, thick white walls in rings stretched over an immense plain of grass.
He now saw people on the road, for the snow had drifted away and had melted by magic into the ground. They passed him, wearing the same robes. Some road horses, some carriages, others walked on foot; but most beared weapons of some sort. Aurel also saw some wearing the robes of the Heavenly Blossom Sect. Although he didn't know how powerful the organization was, he hid his own designs as a precaution. Above all, he felt that nearly all held some amount of qi, or power. Were these all cultivators? Were they so numerous?
As he arrived at the city gates, the white walls stretched far into the sky. They were smooth and without blemish, as though a hand that wasn't human had shaped them into the earth. Massive wooden gates stood open, with masses of these cultivators entering and exiting. Two guards stood at either side, spears in hand.
Aurel felt the flow of the crowd, pushed by countless shoulders and robes. The dust rose as the smell of foreign spices and humans entered his nose. He entered the city.
Rows of tile-roofed buildings with inner courtyards spread before him. To his right, what seemed to be a bustling marketplace echoed around the street. Everything was familiar, but various aspects differentiated this city from Whiteriver. First, just the town of Whiteriver could fit within a courtyard. The buildings themselves were shaped differently, with wide, sloped roofs and thick, stone outer walls. The people rushed around him like a wave. From what Aurel could tell, there were mercenaries, guards, families, farmers carrying wares, all slipping past each other.
He made his way toward the market. Perhaps he could get more information there.