LaughYeAmer
patreon
Chapter 10: A Devil’s Weight
🕑 Added 2025-04-13 15:15:49 +0000 UTC~~~
“Cruel? You complain that the Sect is cruel? That my treatment of you is cruel? How naive you are! Of course, the world is cruel! When the exploitation of your fellow men reaps such great rewards, how is it the fault of anyone who pursues the Path by dominating and devouring others? To do anything less is insanity! Only a child would lament over the useless nuances of ‘fairness’. And you call yourself a Cultivator? Better to simply die now, and let your fellow Brothers and Sisters fight over the right to devour your corpse. That way, at least your worthless existence might have served the Sect a purpose!”
— Words of Elder Jun to one of the newly-inducted Outer Disciples, who lost her arm during their class’s first sparring match
----------------------
The Young Master gagged and heaved, until there was nothing left in his stomach to give. His qi was in turmoil. That traitorous, unmoving Heart of his had stirred his Dantian into a frenzy. Feng had barely managed to keep himself poised when he walked out of that stablehouse. There had been too many witnesses about, and if one of them saw this unsightly display and reported it to Father…
It would ruin him. He must not allow that.
The phantom pains of chains and knives and other instruments Feng had not experienced before kept slashing and stabbing at his body. Every sense, every nerve in his body, was set alight by illusions and false memories. Nails pressed into his head, chains twisting and bending bones, knives carving off pieces of his flesh and organs, pound by painful pound…
And worse, worse, was her warmth. Her scent. The sweetness of rot, the paradoxical heat of a decaying corpse moving against his body. His mouth watered, hunger filled his gaze, and he saw the emerald Jade in her eye, curtained under rivulets of blood-red hair, she was so beautiful—
“Enough!”
Feng snarled as his fingers clawed into the fig tree he grabbed for support. The Young Master stumbled when his raging hands ripped the poor sapling in half, splintering shards everywhere.
He was going insane. He needed to stabilise himself, quickly. Hissing with agony, the Young Master brought his trembling left ring finger to his mouth.
Without nary an ounce of hesitation, he bit down savagely upon it.
The finger was dismembered in an instant, the pain numbed by his qi flow. Feng did not have time to relish the sweetness of his flesh, or the satisfying crunch of his finger bones breaking beneath his teeth. He sucked on the stump instead, licking off as much blood as he could before the wound sealed itself. Then, he directed his qi away from the injury, preventing his body from wasting the energy to regrow the missing digit.
Feng swallowed the pulped finger in his mouth. The hurricane wrath in his body shuddered as the fresh influx of qi quelled the turbulent storm. His Heart relented, drawing back her influence as his Spiritual imbalance corrected itself.
The moment of madness was passed. The Weight in his Heart was subdued.
For now.
He spent the next few minutes catching his breath, going through the familiar motions of a breathing exercise while he cycled his qi in a meditative stance. Once that was done — and he was finished feeling sorry for himself — the Young Master went to nearby markets, seeking the closest wine merchant, and purchased himself a jug of their finest Spirit Drink.
Despite the merchant’s eager assurances of its quality, the wine was not great. Still, it served its purpose, washing away the acidic taste in his mouth and giving his qi the brief replenishment it needed. A quick wash of his face at a nearby fountain, and he was good as new.
Until the voice spoke up again.
“You will not last long if you keep going like this.”
He did not need his Heart to tell him what he already knew. His future was hopelessly grim.
This damnable phantom… She was no natural thing. While madness may spring forth delusions of ethereal voices and visions, his affliction was not one of the mind. The Young Master felt certain of this fact.
He had not suffered any trauma or abuse in his upbringing, physical or emotional; quite the contrary, he would easily say his childhood was far better than nearly everyone else’s on the Phoenix Mountain. His father was kind, his status as Heir prevented anyone from abusing him, and his family wealth ensured he had not gone a single day starving or deprived of necessities.
Likewise, nothing in the Hei Clan’s family history indicated any signs of genetic defects that could have given rise to his condition. If there were any, cultivation would have likely burned away those deficiencies before they could have arisen. The same went for mundane diseases or illnesses.
No, Feng was beyond certain that his condition arose specifically because of cultivation, and not in spite of it. In his long quest for answers, he had even discovered a name for his condition, written upon the texts found in the most obscure sections of his Sect’s Scripture Halls. It was a rare phenomenon, but one that was well-documented and studied. And yet…
Every single piece of evidence told him that someone like him could not be suffering from that particular affliction.
~~~
Ten years ago…
“Uncle.”
“Hmm?” Elder Hei looked down beside his desk, where his eight-year-old nephew tugged at the hem of his pants. “What is it, little Feng?”
“What is a…” The young boy furrowed his brows, his expression uncertain. “... a Heart Devil?”
Hei Nan frowned. “Where did you learn such a thing, little Feng?”
“... A book,” he said, trying to sound innocent.
The Elder chuckled. “I see. And have you asked anyone else this question?”
“I did.” The boy pouted. “The other Disciples don’t know what it means. When I asked Big Sister, she just laughed and said people like us would never need to know about it.”
“Hmm. I suppose Xingyu would see it that way… And your father?”
Feng looked at him with a smile, curiosity sparkling in his eyes as he gleefully told him. “He said to ask you! Father said you would know more about it than him. This is the first time Father said he doesn’t know something!”
Hei Nan, brother to Patriarch Hei Shang and the Elder of Provincial Affairs, chuckled. “Your father knows everything, little Feng. But in this case, he is right that I do know a little more on the subject than he does.”
Elder Hei set aside his brush and letter for the moment, placing them next to an unopened wine gourd. He picked up the boy and placed him on his lap. “Do you know what my job is, little Feng?”
“Uncle leaves the Sect for months, sometimes a whole year! But then he comes back with a whole lot of presents! He stays for a while. And then he goes out again.”
“That is… not wrong,” Elder Hei admitted. “But I don’t just simply leave the Sect for no reason, little Feng. My job as Elder of Provincial Affairs is to act as an ambassador for our Sect. Not just as a representative to the other Sects of the Four Mountains, or even the Sects of the Northern Outer Provinces. No, sometimes… I get to go to the Inner Provinces.”
Feng's eyes widened. “The Inner Provinces!”
“Well, technically, it’s only the border of the Inner Provinces. But it still counts!” Elder Hei corrected with a smile. “It was there where I first saw for myself an actual case of Heart Devils. Before that, it was mostly just myth and stories.”
Feng listened with rapt attention as Elder Hei told his story. “Within the Border Province of the North Gate, there was once a powerful Sect, led by a Patriarch who was a venerable Immortal. The man was a skilled and esteemed cultivator; a noble who owned one of the Three Hundred Palaces of the Kunlun Mountains, and was said to be a trusted friend of the Emperor himself. His Majesty entrusted the noble to guard the North Gate, telling him that one day, a great demon army from beyond the Abyssal Ridge would come and destroy them, like the Host of Eighty Thousand Horrors that had once threatened the old Celestial Kingdom, ages past.”
Feng frowned. “What is a… demon?”
On the edge of the boy’s vision, something flickered, but his attention soon returned to his Uncle as the Elder continued.
“Ah, um… that’s a story for another time.” His Uncle cleared his throat. “In any case, this great Immortal built a vast wall and created a huge army, in anticipation of his Emperor’s prophecy. You would know it today as the North Border Wall. But the years passed, and no invading army from beyond the Empire’s territories ever came.
“Years turned to decades, decades to centuries. The people, who once revered the great Immortal, soon began opposing him, as the Noble’s enormous military had been taxing the Sects and Clans for countless years with nothing to show for it. When asked to provide proof of such an invasion, the Noble sent a letter to his Emperor, asking him to supply an explanation, or at least an edict so that he could continue his taxation policies.
“But nothing ever came, of course. Though our Emperor is mighty and grand, he no longer speaks to his people, for he has already given his One and Only Decree, and Humanity must be content with that. Without proof, the Noble lost all support for his army, and it began to crumble.
“The Immortal was, understandably, at a loss of what to do. Had his Emperor lied to him, or was there truly a monstrous army coming that would destroy the Empire? If it were the former, maintaining the army would be a colossal waste of resources, and yet if it were the latter, disbanding it could spell doom for the continent.
“The Immortal’s heart was split in two, and it all came to a head when the Sects and Clans rebelled and fought against the army he had painstakingly maintained for the last few hundred years. Neither party would listen to reason, and so to minimise the damages, he had to choose a side.
“But how could he? To side with the rebels would be to side against the Empire, and by extension, his dear Emperor as well. Yet, the Immortal had grown bitter and disillusioned with his duty, and longed to be free from its burdensome and worthless cause. Unable to make a decision, and with constant bloodshed spilling all around him, the Immortal’s cultivation split.”
Feng shivered. In the corner of the room, a figure stirred, her attention drawn to the Elder. “S-split?”
Elder Hei nodded gravely. “What was one Immortal suddenly became two. At first, that thing simply festered in his heart, mocking and questioning his every decision. It fed off his resentment, haunting him with nightmares and visions. When it finally grew large enough, it broke off from the Immortal, taking with it half of his cultivation.
“Half an Immortal it may be, but it was still vastly stronger than even the mightiest mortal cultivator. It reaps the lives of both the rebels and the army like a scythe, destroying entire Sects and Clans in the span of a breath. The Noble, horrified at what his indecision had wrought, picked up his weapon and duelled with the thing that spawned from his heart. His Heart Devil.
“Nine days and nights they fought, with the landscape utterly destroyed in their battle. By the time the Noble overpowered the Heart Devil and imprisoned it with a Sealing Technique, the devastation to the Province was irreparable. Horrified with what he had done, the Noble fled in disgrace, never to be seen again.
“This is not the only legend of Heart Devils. Most of such stories are actually rather popular among cultivators within the Inner and Core Provinces. But this is one that I am certain is true.”
“Why do you say that, Uncle?” Feng asked, his tone quiet and awed. A strange stench filled the air, one of sweet blood and rust. His Uncle showed no visible reaction.
“Because I have seen that Heart Devil for myself, little Feng.” His Uncle's voice was grave and serious. Feng had almost never heard him speak like this before. “The Sealing Technique that trapped that Heart Devil held it to the top of the North Gate. All of the Border Province could see it. Not only that, but everyone could hear its screams, which have not stopped even once since its imprisonment five hundred years ago.”
Hei Nan shivered. “It is a hideous, terrible thing. And I, for one, am very glad that it is sealed, and that there aren’t more Heart Devils running around in our Empire.”
Feng agreed. The Heart Devil sounded terrifying.
“So, now it’s my turn to ask a question.” Elder Hei looked Feng in the eye, his expression deadly serious. The child froze. “Why would you ask me about Heart Devils, little Feng?”
Feng hesitated. Elder Hei patiently waited, as the Young Master slowly gathered his courage. Then, the boy sucked in a deep breath.
“I… ”
----------------------
Heart Devils
A Heart Devil, also sometimes erroneously referred to as a Heart Demon, is a documented phenomenon that refers to the monstrous, physical manifestation of a cultivator's inner fears, doubts, or negative emotions. The phenomenon appears to arise with cultivators who are experiencing intense, conflicting moments of self-doubt or temptation.
This is no mere challenge to the cultivator's resolve and morality, but a cataclysmic event that could severely deviate their cultivation, rendering them permanently impaired. Heart Devils can take various forms, depending on the type of struggles or dark aspects lurking in one's character.
Should a Heart Devil feed sufficiently, several possible outcomes may occur. It may split off from the cultivator, and from then on act in accordance with the cultivator’s most twisted desires or resentments. Alternatively, it may bind itself together with the cultivator instead, wrapping their mental perception of right and wrong and turning them into a psychopathic monster in human guise.
In the rarest and most surreal of cases, a cultivator and their Heart Devil may reach a symbiotic agreement of sorts, supporting each other and becoming stronger because of it. This is exceptionally rare and requires an extraordinary situation which would force the two conflicting entities to work together. Every documented case of such an event usually ends in disaster past a certain point, often once the extraordinary situation is dealt with.
It is the sincere belief of most experts that it is impossible for a Heart Devil and its host to co-exist indefinitely.
– Excerpt from The Exotic Lives of Immortals. The manuscript was written by the Great Philosopher of the Kunlun Mountains, and provides an insight into the life and tribulations of an Immortal.
