Patrick Laplante
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PtM Book 14 - Epilogue
🕑 Added 2022-03-31 00:37:04 +0000 UTC5/5 this week, and last chapter of the book! Super long epilogue, but I think it's needed after my latest chapter.
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In the Crimson Lotus Empire where Yu Wen hailed from, it was customary to mourn for three days. Those mourning were not allowed to eat, sleep, or drink, and a stick of incense was kept burning at all times.
Cha Ming had taken it upon himself to mourn Yu Wen’s passing. He wasn’t sure if anyone else had known her well enough to care, and he wasn’t motivated enough to look for them. As far as he was concerned, he had known her the longest.
Her grave was unmarked. There were no names, pictures, or mementos. His thoughts were that, given her personality, she would want to be free and unfettered after her departure.
Three sticks of incense burned atop the small stone where Cha Ming had buried the ashes of her possessions. He hadn’t kept any of them, no matter how valuable. Every time a stick went out, Cha Ming would replace it meticulously, and in the empty moments between lightings, he would reminisce.
He did not even think of Yu Wen’s past life. She had chosen to live in the present, so he kept his thoughts to recent memories, beginning with the time he’d first met her on the Inkwell Plane in the Burning Lake Prefecture.
He remembered her being stubborn and driven. She’d worked hard to escape the shackles of her family, who ultimately betrayed her and tried to force her to marry.
She had escaped. Barely. Then she’d fled across the central continent to Mendin and made a new life for herself. She’d explored ruins and gathered secrets while making a few friends but just as many enemies.
Her delving career had taken her where few would venture and gotten her entangled in the conflict between angels and devils.
Ironically, it was the angels who proved to be the villains in the end. They had killed her.
Cha Ming’s vigil continued for three full days, and when exactly seventy-two hours had passed, he called an end to it. Not because he was ready, but because Yu Wen would have wanted him to.
He summoned a clay bowl and filled it with sweet Verdane wine and poured it over her gravestone. The parched earth drank it up in Yu Wen’s stead. He repeated the gesture two more times, for a total of three times, because this was the last time she would ever drink.
Three bowls of rice had been laid out as offerings since the beginning of the mourning period, each with a pair of chopsticks stabbed straight in the center. The dead could no longer eat, and this was her final feast.
He picked up each bowl and threw them on the ground. White pottery shattered, spilling the cooked white grains onto the forest floor. Over time, the rice would be devoured by the forest’s inhabitants in her stead.
“I was… happy,” Cha Ming said in a choked voice. “Happy to have met you. Happy to spend time with you. We had our disagreements, but there was joy in that too. The only thing I regret… is taking so long to realize how much I loved you. How much I still love you.”
He was already on his knees, but that wasn’t enough. The dead were owed the greatest of respects. He put his head all the way down to the ground and completed a kowtow. His forehead struck stone and drew blood, which dripped onto the soil.
“The first kowtow… is to remember the time of our first meeting.” He remembered that shocking moment on the docks. The first time he’d seen her, he’d recognized her for who she’d been, not who she was.
Would things have been different if he hadn’t obsessed over that one little fact? Would she perhaps have suffered a little less? There was no way to tell, and there was no use regretting it.
Cha Ming kowtowed a second time, and more blood spilled onto the ground. “The second kowtow is to remember everything you’ve done.” She’d saved his life more than once and sacrificed far more for him than anyone else ever had. If not for him, she wouldn’t have needed to take that immortal energy into her body. She could have chosen life, but to save him, she’d chosen death.
Whether it was saving, healing, or loving him, she’d done all these things for him without ever asking for anything in return. Sure, she’d griped over money, but when had she ever been serious about it? But that was what you did when you loved someone, and Cha Ming should have realized it long ago. She’d helped him even when his heart was confused and uncertain.
The last kowtow was the hardest, so Cha Ming hesitated. In the end, it had to be done. If he did not honor her memory, then who would? She’d spent her life as a fugitive, and anyone who’d known her long enough to call her a friend, she had abandoned long ago for their own safety. Now, only he was left.
So he lowered his head to the ground one last time. Blood now covered his entire face and the front of his white robes. This was the last of the three kowtows, and he finally spoke the most difficult of words. “Goodbye.”
Cha Ming was not a big believer in ceremonies, but he pictured Yu Wen and her sister Xiao Bai traveling down the Yellow River to Diyu on a boat. Normally, one had to swim through the ten courts of Hell, but they were intelligent women—they’d stolen a boat from Hell’s judges and saved themselves quite a bit of suffering.
He briefly wondered if trouble would follow them to Diyu. Would the cycle of reincarnation be all right? It should be fine, shouldn’t it? Laughter and tears mixed together as the emotions that had been stirring up inside him for the past three days poured out.
The numbness then gave way to grief as the finality of the situation sank in.
Yu Wen was gone. She wasn’t coming back.
Yet he did not rise. The fourth day came, and Cha Ming continued to kneel. At the end of the seventh day, the heavens could bear it no longer. Rain fell from the sky.
Cha Ming allowed the rain to soak him through, not even bothering with the most basic protections. He couldn’t feel anything. He was numb to everything.
He knelt for a month, then two, then three. He did not eat or drink in this time, or even sleep.
No one came to convince him otherwise, but not for lack of trying.
***
“He needs help!” Graceful Twilight said to the Monkey King. “It’s been three months already!” There was venom in her voice, and Sun Wukong could sympathize with her position.
“Teacher is a reasonable person, Sun Wukong,” Clever Dusk said. “It would be helpful if we spoke to him.”
“He at least needs to know we’re there to support him,” Drezil agreed. “Just like he supported me.”
“I know. I know!” Sun Wukong said. “But you guys have no idea what he’s going through. You’ve all lost people, but try to read the room! Tell me, if his demon companion, the one that shares a direct link to his soul and emotions and has for over a century, hasn’t come to bother him, don’t you think there might be reason?”
Sun Wukong wasn’t an expert on emotional matters. Far from it. His teacher, on the other hand, was. He’d written a handbook about it to correct this deficiency in Sun Wukong’s character, and had even directly offered some advice about the situation after Cha Ming hadn’t risen on the fourth day.
Cha Ming was a textbook case of someone on the brink, the type that would shatter if pushed any further. The signs were all there: extended apathy, self-starvation, and spiritual instability, among others.
The Monkey King sighed. “You three, go away. I’m sending him on a trip. A long one.”
“That’s hardly a good idea,” Clever Dusk interjected.
“Let him,” a voice called out. A swirl of leaves gave way to a gray-haired woman well past her prime.
“Master,” Clever Dusk said, greeting her with a stiff bow. “I do not believe it is appropriate for you to interfere in this matter. Especially given how you tried to cover up Daoist Misty Sea’s success, if only so he didn’t chase after her.” It had been a point of contention between the two of them of late.
The Verdant Thread Seer did not take her scathing words to heart. “You say these words because you care for your teacher. I understand and sympathize with your point of view. And I know you share a special relationship with him. But I’d wager that you do not understand him like King Sun Wukong does.” She looked over to where Cha Ming was still kneeling and frowned. “His soul isn’t very stable. Have you spoken to your teacher about his specific situation?”
“I have,” Sun Wukong said. “We worked out a… recovery plan. There are two ways to go about this, and the first way involves him finding himself and piecing himself back together like one of those sappy stories. It’s the sure way. The slow way.”
“He doesn’t have time for the slow way,” the Thread Seer said, and Sun Wukong inclined his head. “The changes to the realm’s Dao origins will cause unprecedented chaos and change, Clever Dusk, and the karmic shift is already underway. It’s only a matter of time before war breaks out in every kingdom and every country.”
“And I happen to think decades of war won’t do him any good,” Sun Wukong said. “Thus, the second way.”
“What is the second way?” Clever Dusk asked.
“Pressure,” Sun Wukong said. “Enough pressure to force the pieces back together. The wrong type of pressure will obviously break him apart, but targeted pressure will serve like hammer blows that forge him back together.”
“You can’t!” Drezil said.
“I can, and I will!” Sun Wukong said. “He has called me teacher, and his situation is dire, so I’m going to do what’s best for him!”
“I won’t let you!” Graceful Twilight said. Inky iridescent flames appeared all around her body, and inky markings appeared on her skin. Drezil similarly channeled an inky earthen power, then combined his strength with hers.
They unleashed a combination attack, and Sun Wukong simply rolled his eyes. He waved his hand and sent them flying backward with minimal damage. He then looked down at Clever Dusk. “You want some of this too, little girl, or are you going to scram?”
“I’ll scram.” Clever Dusk turned around calmly and walked away. Out of all of them, she was the calmest and most sensible. For all the good that would do her, given the source of her power, and the power of all the inkborn, for that matter.
Sun Wukong sighed. “You go too. I’ll take care of him.” The Thread Seer nodded and vanished in a flurry of leaves. The woods were quiet again.
Communicating across realms was quite tiring, but Sun Wukong didn’t just have an immortal body and an immortal core—he also had an immortal Buddhist soul. Planar boundaries were quite effective against the physical, but quite porous when it came to spiritual transmissions.
A beam of light shot through the planar boundary of the Inkwell Plane as he forged a connection to a hidden place, one that was outside the jurisdiction of even the Heavenly Emperors, the Devil Sovereigns, and Demon Monarchs.
A short while later, a spiritual entity snuck through the pathway he’d opened, revealing a short old man with white hair. He looked at Cha Ming, who was still unaware of what was transpiring.
The elder furrowed his brow and shook his head. “Bad case. Very bad case. If we open up the realm and send him in, I wouldn’t bet on him surviving.”
“As his inviter and the initiator of the opening, I’m allowed to give him some benefits and allocate some friends,” Sun Wukong said. “If I do that, it should be fine, right?”
The old man nodded slowly. “That would work. And it is allowed. But you do realize I will need to invite more potential enemies to compensate, don’t you? Whatever benefits and support he gains now, that will earn him double the detriment.”
“That’s fine,” Sun Wukong said. “He’s a tough kid. Just not so tough right now. As long as he pulls through this first pass, he’ll be fine.”
“If that is your opinion, as his teacher, I won’t try dissuading you further,” the old man said. “Just remember that you only have one chance to initiate an opening of the realm, and this will use it up.”
“Just open it,” Sun Wukong said. “I already sent you details.”
“So be it,” the old man said. His eyes glowed with ice and fire, with ochre and jade, and with light and darkness. “I officially declare the Heartforge Realm open! Bring forth the invitations!”
A pulse of immortal energy was sent out to all the nearest transcendent realms, with the Inkwell Plane as its origin. Ten thousand tokens appeared above the man and split into four groups. Nine thousand were a dull iron, and nine hundred were bronze. Ninety were silver, and nine were gold. A final token was clear, and this token shot out to Cha Ming.
Ninety-nine others spread out across the Inkwell Plane, and the rest tore through time and space to all the neighboring realms. “I wish your student luck,” the old man said. “It seems we have a certain affinity for one another, so I do hope we’ll meet again in the near future.”
With those words, the man vanished, and Sun Wukong sighed. Cha Ming was no longer kneeling before the grave because he was no longer there. Heartforge Realm invitations could only be accepted by willing participants, and as the initiator, he had certain privileges.
“Good luck, kid,” Sun Wukong said. “Don’t die. I’ll keep things safe here on this end. Don’t you worry about a thing.” With these words, he turned around and began to think of some constructive ways to let off steam.
***
The past three months had not treated Petros kindly. The battle with Artemis, as exciting as it had been, had resulted in heavy injuries. His soul-bound treasure had taken two whole months to recover, and even though he’d gained enough experience and inspiration to advance, his path was blocked. His skills could not be used. Only his strength and his senses and his energy remained, but for that last one, he had no outlet.
Petros sat at an old archbishop’s desk. The archbishop was currently divining with a deity of Jezeriah’s pantheon, Apollo. He was Artemis’s brother, the god of prophecy, and they did not get along.
“I am told that revoking your excommunication won’t be a problem,” the aged archbishop finally said. “Ten times the offerings you’ve already prepared, but there’s one last thing, and you know what it is.”
“Forget it,” Petros said. “I won’t apologize, no matter what.”
“Won’t you reconsider?” the archbishop asked reluctantly. “You are a very talented young man, but she is a goddess.”
“She’s a stubborn goddess who’s refusing to compromise, despite the fact that I have other options,” Petros said.
The archbishop stiffened. “I have just been told by Jezeriah herself that you have her blessing, if that’s the path you’ve chosen, but she has requested that, for the love of all that is holy, you stop instigating her pantheon.”
Petros stormed out of the church, just like he had twenty others. “Damn you, Artemis. You’re a goddess. Why do you have to be so petty and vindictive? I’ve never gotten on my knees for anyone, not even Jezeriah. What makes you worthy?”
The situation was especially painful for Petros. People thought he was blessed, and that he was favored for some reason, but no one understood how hard he’d worked to get where he was. They also didn’t understand how much he’d paid over the years to maintain his dignity.
Fortunately, Petros could always turn to the path of Painted Daoist. It was just that he didn’t like this option, even if there were such a thing as a Painted Dao God.
The main reason for his reluctance was that, while he could easily make the change, he would become much weaker. Jezeriah had spent no small amount of energy propping up his ranker powers, which made him reluctant to abandon them.
“What the…” An object suddenly tore through a rift in space. It was too quick for him to react, even with his enhanced reflexes, and the object tore toward his chest, unfathomable and unstoppable. Then it stopped and floated in front of him.
He inspected the item. It was an iron token. He felt no threat from it, so he touched it, and when he did, a stream of information poured into his mind.
“Heartforge Realm?” Petros muttered. He’d never heard of such a place, but according to the token, it wouldn’t be difficult to confirm its existence if he checked. The token was filled with interesting information, but most importantly, it carried a personalized message.
Would you like another chance, Petros? Would you like a way to seek the Dao? The Heartforge Realm has the answers.
The timing was so perfect it could only be a scam.
Petros had seen many such scams in his lifetime, so he immediately tossed the token to the ground and continued on with his day.
Later that same day, he collapsed on his bed, frustrated and demoralized and covered in cuts and bruises. He’d gotten into some fights and hadn’t come out on top of them. When he looked over to his bedstand, he saw that token had appeared atop it, just like it had all those other times he’d thrown it away.
By breaking it, he would accept the invitation. He had twenty-four hours to make a decision. But did he dare to? No. Not without doing some research. He was an investigator, though, and even excommunicated, he had many sources of information. He should be able to figure out of this was real or just some sadistic revenge joke courtesy of Artemis.
Besides, life couldn’t get any worse, could it? His hopes and dreams had been shattered, and he had to find a way forward. If there really was a chance to escape his constraints and gain his freedom…
But no. It was probably a scam. Maybe.
He was tired, though. He’d look into it tomorrow.
***
“The Heartforge Realm?” Oster Fireblight muttered. He inspected the silver token in his hands. “How interesting for it to open up at such a crucial juncture.”
“Sir, I have never heard of this Heartforge Realm before,” General Shen said. “But there have been many inquires about this realm in recent hours. It seems quite a few tokens have been discovered across the continent.
“There should be about a hundred in this realm,” Oster said. “Or so I’ve confirmed using the Mirror of the Blighted Coin. As for what the Heartforge Realm is… all you need to know is that it’s a mysterious place. Those who go there cannot speak of it, but invariably, the ones who survive and return become powerhouses that affect great change.
“The only caveat is that any who enter cannot return for sixty years. Sixty years isn’t so long by Daoist standards, but in Mendin, that’s the average bronze ranker’s lifespan. Not that I have the average bronze ranker’s lifespan, mind you, but I’m sure you understand what I’m saying.”
“Sir, you can’t!” General Montague pleaded. “The plane is in a state of upheaval. With great chaos comes great opportunity. You’ve always said so, and often.”
“True,” Oster said. “But I also need to consider the hundreds of others who might go if I don’t. These tokens don’t get issued out to just anyone, you know. And a silver token is not a low-level invitation. It implies I’m highly valued and have much potential.
“Moreover, our last expedition bankrupted us. I’m afraid that staying will just mean sixty years of difficult moneygrubbing.” He clenched his fist. “I’ve decided. I’m going. General Shen, you’re in charge. General Montague, you’re second-in-command. And Aldrich… I’ve never liked you. You’re fired.”
“Fired?” the older man exclaimed. “After everything I’ve done for you? I… I just paid off all our debts to the empire with my own family’s fortune!”
“And thanks to that, you are no longer useful,” Oster said. “I never liked your advice, Aldrich. I hate the way you dress, and I hate the way you speak. Goodbye.” He tossed out a ball of green flame, catching the man totally off guard. The aged general fell to the ground, writhing in pain, and the others in the room barely missed a beat. “As for the rest of you, I realize our position isn’t good. Consider this a test. I could well die in the Heartforge Realm, but if I return in sixty years, my strength will have soared to a whole new level.” He frowned and looked toward the tent’s flap. “What is it?”
“A cardinal of the Church of Harid Dej has arrived!” the man announced. A group of soldiers entered the tent, flanking a man in black and red robes. He held a black shepherd’s crook and radiated an unholy aura.
Oster’s eyes narrowed. “To what do I owe the pleasure of the cardinal’s visit?”
“I have been made aware by our goddess that you have received a token to the Heartforge Realm,” the cardinal said.
“And how exactly does this concern Harid Dej?” Oster asked. Would they order him to give up such a rare opportunity?
The cardinal smiled. “I know what you’re thinking, but I would like to assure you that I am not here to take away this opportunity. Quite the opposite, actually. The goddess is quite pleased that you’ve not only qualified but have been assigned a token of such high esteem. The Heartforge Realm is famous even in the immortal realms, you see. Great things are expected of those who return in one piece, which is why Harid Dej would be very happy if you participated, and why she has ordered me to deliver you a gift.” He took out a small black pouch, and from the pouch he took out a small idol. The idol was in the likeness of Harid Dej, and it radiated divinity.
“What’s this?” Oster asked.
“You may not be aware of this, but the Dao origins of the Heartforge Realm are different than those on the Inkwell Plane,” the cardinal explained. “Without external aid, you will not be able to advance on your current path. The Great Goddess had decreed that you be given an idol with sufficient divinity to catalyze three advancements as you see fit.” He bowed and held out the idol. “Please accept this gift.”
Oster nodded, and Shen walked over to accept the statue on his behalf. The cardinal made no sudden moves and did not look insulted by the lack of reverence. Indeed, worshipers of Harid Dej were less stuck up with formality than Jezeriah’s followers. There was a certain expectation of treachery and deceit between members of the clergy and all her rankers.
“Is that everything?” Oster asked. In this world, there were no free lunches.
“The Great Goddess only hopes that you do your best to succeed. And of course, if it should prove convenient, she hopes that you will do your best to eliminate your competition,” the cardinal said. “There are Jezeriah’s followers, of course, but she mentioned a certain Daoist Clear Sky by name. Apparently, he has ties to this realm’s initiator and has likely received a special invitation.”
Oster nodded. This was a reasonable request. “I will do what I can, within safe limits.”
“That is all the Great Goddess asks,” the cardinal said.
The cardinal retreated, and the remaining generals no longer had anything to say. If Harid Dej herself had blessed this mission, who were they to oppose her? They could only do their best to lay the groundwork while their general forged the way ahead in the other realm.
That night, Oster Fireblight, General of the Blighted Coin, vanished.
***
Wei Longshen was currently seated in high company. Not only were the emperor’s four ministers in attendance, but so was Emperor Qin himself. His disciple, Xing Tianlong, was also there.
There were four others in the room, which meant that six members of the younger generation had been found worthy of entering the Heartforge Realm. No one had made an effort to steal their tokens, because they knew from historical records that these tokens would either return to their owners or seek out another worthy candidate. They could not be captured.
There had been two others as well, but they had been slain before they could even think of breaking their tokens. Those two men had been Cao Wenluan’s spies, and there was no way Emperor Qin would allow them to enter the realm alongside them.
“So it’s certain?” Emperor Qin asked the minister of war. “Your spies have confirmed his disappearance?”
The minister of war stepped forward, holding a jade slip before him and keeping his body bowed, as was required by imperial law. Like the others in attendance, he wore a silly hat, which for some reason hadn’t gone out of fashion for the past ten thousand years. Only the emperor remained seated, while the others were all standing.
“This subordinate’s informants have confirmed this,” the minister of war said. “Cao Wenluan did not give us a chance to take action against him, and he entered along with three of his subordinates. Apparently, he is in possession of a rare gold token, and the three he took with him had silver tokens.”
The emperor frowned. “That can’t be right. Gold for him, I understand, but silver for the others? Tianlong and Longshen are far more talented than they are, and their tokens are bronze.”
Wei Longshen stepped out. “Emperor!”
“Speak,” Emperor Qin said.
“This subordinate has a possible explanation,” Wei Longshen said. He waited for the emperor to give him leave to before continuing. “This subordinate took the liberty of inquiring with interplanar information channels before this meeting. In almost all cases, the allocation of tokens is according to talent, and there is only one exception. It relates to the initiator and any guests he has specifically invited, and privileges he has given them.”
Emperor Qin frowned. “So you’re saying that the initiator is an enemy of our empire?”
“This subordinate believes that the initiator has a positive karmic relationship with our empire,” Wei Longshen said. “In what way, this subordinate does not know. According to this subordinate’s sources, special invitations can be issued and benefits given, but they must be balanced through the invitation of enemies and benefits to these enemies. For every benefit claimed, twice the punishment is required.
“That makes sense, but who could it be?” asked Xing Tianlong. As the emperor’s disciple, he did not have to bow like everyone else, and could ignore a certain level of protocol. “I can’t think of anyone who fits the bill.”
“Cao Wenluan’s enemies aren’t few,” the emperor said wryly. “There’s no point thinking about it. The only question is whether each of you are willing. Such opportunities don’t come by often. Our empire has only recorded three instances of the realm opening in its entire history, and all who have returned from the Heartforge Realm have contributed immensely to the empire’s growth.”
“This subordinate is willing!” one of the Daoists said. He was a talented scribe reporting under the minister of culture. “This subordinate will give his all to the empire!” The three others followed suit, until only Xing Tianlong and Wei Longshen remained.
“The way I see it, it’s not a loss if one of us stays,” Xing Tianlong said to Wei Longshen. “With Cao Wenluan gone, we can cripple his forces and recover what we’ve lost. Besides, you have another child on the way, Longshen. A child needs a father to accompany him.”
“This subordinate cannot stay,” Wei Longshen said, shaking his head. “As much as this subordinate wishes to do so. No one knows Cao Wenluan like this subordinate does, and no one fears him more than this subordinate either.”
“So you’re saying…” the emperor said.
“This subordinate will accompany Brother Tianlong to the Heartforge Realm!” Wei Longshen said. “This will be our best chance to eliminate the traitor. The minister of war can take care of rooting out Cao Wenluan’s rebels and supporters on this side. He will not succeed in discovering them all, but every bit will help. Then at least, if we fail in the Heartforge Realm, Cao Wenluan will not have an easy time.”
“Very well,” the emperor said. “Tianlong, you go as well, and this emperor sends you forth with our blessing. You have three hours to prepare. Tianlong, take everyone to the vaults. You and Longshen can take three treasures each. The others may take one.”
“This subordinate will do as you command,” Wei Longshen said. He wasn’t looking forward to breaking the news to his family, or how hard his wife would beat him when he did.
***
The appearance of the Heartforge Realm tokens and the disappearance of dozens of heaven-sent talents caused a stir throughout the Inkwell Plane. Most major powers received an allocation of tokens, as did some of the hidden talents of the younger generation.
The Paper Tiger Clan received an unusually large number of tokens. For what reason that was, no one could tell. “We have received a total of twenty tokens, Pale King,” said a white-eyed man with intricate white-and-black demon armor. His waist-length white hair was tied in a long braid, and he had golden “king” character with a light purple sheen prominently displayed on his forehead. He was the prince of the Paper Tiger Clan, Lord Baleful Vision. “I do not know why we received so many invitations to the Heartforge Realm, but the timing is unfortunate. With the change in the realm’s Dao origins, now is the perfect time to strike.”
“No,” the Pale King said. He was tall, imposing, and emanated a pressure that even late-fusion-realm demons would find difficult to resist. Perhaps only an immortal would be able to fight him on even ground. Unfortunately, there seemed to be no lack of experts willing to collaborate against him, so up till now, he’d chosen to remain reserved and accumulate power. “The Painted Demons need time to grow. Their lives are short, but their ability to multiply has increased. I believe that this power can be inherited as well, so the upcoming sixty years will be necessary to grow my army.”
“Your instructions, my king?” Baleful Vision asked.
“You will all go with my blessing,” the Pale King said. “This is a rare opportunity. The Inkwell Ancestor cannot suppress your advancement in the Heartforge Realm, so take this chance to grow as quickly as you can.”
***
In the Shanarah Mountains, only one demon had received an invitation. It was a gold invitation, and he held it in the palm of his hand.
“Don’t slack off while I’m gone,” Huxian said. “Especially you, Gua. Sixty years is a long time, so learn and grow as much as you can. Feel free to break through the fusion realm, but until I secure the last two of our companions, I won’t be advancing.”
“Please don’t go,” Miyue said. “Who knows what sort of philandering wenches you’ll run into.”
“Talented ones, I hope,” Huxian said. “What, are you jealous?”
“Drop dead,” Miyue said, but her heart wasn’t in it.
“We have six decades,” Silverwing said. “We can easily break through to the fusion realm by then, especially with the dungeon core to aid us. We should think about how we can expand.”
“Agreed,” Mr. Mountain said. “Why don’t we set our rights on the other sacred deserts? The other dungeon cores? We have a springboard position in the north, so why not take advantage of it?”
Huxian nodded. “That’s not a bad plan. Kerava doesn’t have a dungeon core anymore, which is a problem, but that’s no reason not to encroach on the other sacred deserts.” He frowned. “Just don’t push into the Santana Desert. That place gives me the chills. Without the right support, and the right demon to bind the core, it’ll only be trouble.” He then looked to Bifang, who was tearing up a little.
“Do you really have to go?” Bifang asked him. “We know you’re upset, but that doesn’t mean we can’t make you happy again. We can’t replace her, but we’re friends, aren’t we?”
Huxian sighed. “It’s not that I want to go, but that I have to go, Bifang. Xiao Bai will remember me no matter what. I’ll find her again, given enough time. So as much as it hurts to lose her, I know it’s only temporary.”
“Then why go?” Miyue asked.
“Why else?” Huxian said. “For my brother. We haven’t really spent much time together these past few years, and now he needs me. I can’t even imagine the pain he’s in, as much as it leaks through our bond. Grief… is a very personal thing. I can’t sort out his emotional baggage, but what I can do is protect him and keep him company in the Heartforge Realm.”
That night, Lord Eight Directions vanished from the Inkwell Plane. The Collegium mounted a surprise attack within the hour. They were rebuffed soundly by an army of void specters, members of the Inkwell Clan, and the six remaining leaders of the Shanarah Mountain Range.
***
Almost every faction on the Inkwell Plane received Heartforge tokens. The reclusive Inkwell Clan was no exception. There was one special group that could not accept the invitation even after receiving it. Silver Fish was a prime example.
“No matter how I try, I can’t break it,” Silver Fish muttered. He looked over his shoulder toward an ethereal inky figure invisible to everyone but him. “I imagine this has something to do with you?”
“Very likely,” the figure said. She stepped out from her shadowy corner, revealing a shapely body and flowing black hair. Half her person was covered in inky-black runes, including half her face, an entire arm, and an entire leg. “The Heartforge Realm is only open to juniors, and it has been a long time since I could be considered one. But do not despair. Under my guidance, your growth will not lose out to theirs.”
Silver Fish grunted. His life had been far from charmed, and while this lady’s sudden appearance had not surprised him, he had no reason to believe her motives were pure. Alas, what could he do? She was a part of him. It was only that he hadn’t noticed it until now.
“I can’t go around calling you womanall the time, can I?” Silver Fish said. “What’s your name?”
“I go by many names,” the woman said. “But if you must, I have a certain fondness for a name I used not long ago. Call me… Melody.”
***
The chaos caused by the opening of the Heartforge Realm was felt even in the immortal realms. Those who left it had a very good chance of ascending, so the top figures presiding over each area sent out feelers to each of these places to collect information.
Perhaps only two souls were unbothered by this news. They were currently flying through Diyu at breakneck speed, ignoring the fundamental laws of physics and cutting through the Yellow River and its many inspectors and judges, completely bypassing the Bridge of Forgetfulness and Meng Po’s tea.
These souls were special. They did not follow the normal rules of the cycle of reincarnation. Their function was unique, and they had existed long before the cycle had been established.
One of these souls never forgot anything, but never revealed anything of what she knew to the other. Her role was that of a guardian for her companion.
As for the second soul, she always forgot. Her memories of her past life were protected by a golden seal, and even Yama could not breach it. Yet somehow the seal was, though the damage was nearly healed over.
The two souls drifted as fate dictated, for Yama was not here. Yama was busy preventing his realm from collapsing. This had happened before, and it ultimately fell to them to find a way to reincarnate, so they drifted toward the six portals through which all other souls transmigrated.
Everything thus far had been going quite smoothly. The souls had taken a meandering path but had made it to their final destination. Just another step, and their duty would be completed. They would start a new life on the other side.
Unfortunately, it was then that a claw of dark energy grasped the twin souls and dragged them through a spatial fissure. “Got you!”
Their captor was a man in black robes. He was specifically not made of darkness. It was just a normal, heavily enchanted cloak.
Eight pairs of flowing black wings were affixed to his back. They were devilish wings, but they were not ochre, for ochre couldn’t fully encapsulate the supreme doubt they embodied. He was the Curse Sovereign, brother to the Jade Emperor, and ruler of the Seven Hells.
The two souls struggled with all their might, but to no avail. This devil’s power was boundless, and only a peak figure like the Jade Emperor or Yama would be able to restrain him.
The Curse Sovereign inspected the two interlocked souls and broke them apart. He held up the jade soul and scowled at it. “You have been nothing but trouble, little rabbit. An annoyance that I will not tolerate. I may not be able to destroy you, but it is within my power to make your life difficult.” Black threads of immortal energy spun themselves around the jade soul, filling it with law runes of cursing and imprisonment. He wrapped the soul in many layers before tossing it into a rift, which would take it directly into the demonic portal of reincarnation.
“As for you… I have been waiting for you to reach this point for a very long time.” He began laying another seal on the gray soul, but this one was a seal of direction and binding. Once complete, the soul’s destiny would be bound to his, just as it had been to the Jade Emperor’s one a lifetime ago.
Laying down the seal required great focus, which made it the ideal time for an ambush. The Curse Sovereign was therefore not at all surprised when a black dagger shot through the air, cutting off his connection to the soul just before the last binding was completed.
“You,” the Curse Sovereign said.
“Me,” the shadow answered. A dark figure appeared, and this time, it was a true darkness. His mere presence choked out all sounds and perceptions and distorted all karma.
“I’d originally thought your helping me was strictly business,” the Curse Sovereign said. “I sure paid you accordingly. But I guess that’s part of the subterfuge. Tell me, Obscurus, aren’t you afraid that I’ll expose your crimes to Yama?”
The figure projected a smile that wasn’t there. “If you feel confident in proving my interference, go right ahead. But you and I both know that Yama will not be able to prove my involvement, and that your words will, at most, be self-incriminating.”
“So it has come to this.” The Curse Sovereign summoned a deadly double scythe, one that could sever souls and laws.
They flashed through space, and in a single second, he and his opponent exchanged countless blows. Daoist Obscurus used little more than a dagger to do so. He was a troublesome enemy, because not only was it difficult to remember where he was, but also where he’d been and where he’ll be, making predicting his movements impossible.
“Just give up the soul, Curse Sovereign,” the shadow said.
“Drop dead, Obscurus!” They traded blows once again, but this time, the Curse Sovereign chose to take a blow, trapping Obscurus’s dagger for a single moment to complete the binding the matrix. He then tossed the soul into a spatial rift, then smirked condescendingly at his opponent.
His eyes narrowed as he realized that a black mist had appeared just outside the spatial rift. The gray soul, which should have been pristine, became covered in darkness. The connection he’d so painstakingly established was obscured, and he lost all awareness of the soul as it tumbled through the portal to reincarnate in the devil realms.
“What have you done?” the Curse Sovereign hissed.
“What was necessary,” Daoist Obscurus said coldly. “We don’t need another repeat of the Jade Princess incident.”
“This is balance!” the Curse Sovereign said. “The universe demands balance! I was cheated when the Jade Fool had her reincarnated as his daughter. We were allcheated!”
“Two wrongs don’t make a right, Sovereign Yu,” Daoist Obscurus said. “Alas, I could not fully sever your bond, but I don’t envy you. You’ll have a difficult time finding her.”
The shadow vanished, and the Curse Sovereign found himself alone in the dark. “Damn it!” He struck the air, and the might of his blow cracked the fabric of Diyu.
It was time to leave. He’d been played like a fiddle, and there was nothing he could do about it. Still, all Daoist Obscurus had done was delay the inevitable. The bond was still there, just hidden. Why would he do that? What important matter was he up to that required him to distract the leader of the seven hells for the next twenty to fifty immortal years? What did he gain from stalling for so little time? Immortals thought of time differently than mortals. Ten thousand years was nothing to beings like them. And yet… Daoist Obscurus had paid a great price to secure that small amount of time.
Alas, to know the answer would be to know Daoist Obscurus. No one fully understood the mysterious figure, and no one even knew his real appearance. No one knew his gender. Only that his eternal opponent, Elder Zhong, had the most material on him, but even then, there was very little.
Confused but determined to see his plan through, the Curse Sovereign left Diyu. He resolved to be careful and lay low during his search. The karmic shift was coming, and there would be more than enough chaos to distract from his antics.
***
The war was finally over. The last of the outsiders had been destroyed or banished. The rifts they’d used had been closed off or sealed, and no new outsiders had been spotted in days.
A great reconstruction was taking place in Diyu. With better roads, better sewers, and taller buildings. Re-zoning negotiations were currently underway, and Mayor Judah was making up for his lackluster performance during the outsider invasion by pushing articles through the council now that half the councillors had died in such a way that gave his faction a supermajority.
Alas, Yama took no joy in these small victories. Defeating the outsiders had come at great cost to the universe’s source energy. He felt weak. He wanted to take a nap.
Trillions of souls had been destroyed in the protracted battle. Their scraps had returned to the source for recycling, and new souls had been pumped out, but there was a net loss to the exchange, even after recycling the energy gained from their defeated enemies.
“So much destruction,” Yama muttered. “So much despair.” After so long, it wore on him. Fortunately, the most important of Diyu’s assets, the cycle of reincarnation, had been preserved, so things weren’t a total mess.
“Lord Yama, there’s a bit of a situation.” said his assistant, Lily.
“What is it now?” Yama asked. “Are the construction workers complaining about mandatory overtime again? Because if they are, I swear I’ll punch them into oblivion!”
“No, that’s not it,” Lily said. “Perhaps you should pay less attention to mundane matters and turn your sights on the karmic web.”
“The karmic web?” Yama said. He squinted and modified his perception to better view and interpret causality.
The web looked like it always did. There were many tendrils shooting out in all directions. It was still spinning like it always did, only… “It’s backward. Backward!” His eyes widened. “It’s a karmic shift!” He ran some swift calculations, and a horrified expression crossed his face. “Almighty Painter, this is bad! All hands on deck! The karmic shift is here!”
An alarm blared out as Yama teleported to the mouth of one of the largest tendrils of the Yellow River. The steady current was flowing a bit faster than normal, but he knew that was only the beginning.
“What’s the matter, Lord Yama? Why the panic?” Lily asked.
“You’re not an engineer, so you wouldn’t understand,” he huffed.
She gave him a scathing look.
“Fine. We in Diyu manage the cycle of reincarnation. A karmic shift has just occurred. Events that would normally flow in one direction have suddenly started flowing in the other. This means that for a time, the Yellow River will run at extremely low levels.”
“And that’s bad?”
“It’s terrible!” Yama exclaimed. “Effectively, the many realms in the universe will act as soul reservoirs. Karmic shifts lead to extreme chaos, which leads to wars everywhere, and mass death. You can imagine how the flood of souls would be difficult to handle in normal situations, but now we need to do it while Diyu is damaged.”
Lily frowned. “There have been many karmic shifts before. I’ve read records of them.”
“Yes, you’re quite right,” Yama said. “Tell me, what is the normal time interval between karmic shifts?”
Lily directly took out a calculator and punched in some numbers. “About a thousand immortal years?”
“Yes,” Yama said. “Now when was the last recorded karmic shift?”
Lily froze.
Finally, she gets it.
“How in the Painter’s name has there not been a karmic shift for over three hundred thousand immortal years?” she exclaimed.
“That’s confidential, even with your clearance,” Yama huffed. “If you have to blame someone, blame the Jade Emperor. Damn, I hate that idiot sometimes. He’s a smart man. Did he not realize that if the good times lasted so long, the resulting shift would be catastrophic?”
“This is bad,” Lily said. “I need to start planning. How much overflow are we talking about?”
“Ten times standard,” Yama said. “Get the engineers working on this ASAP, and stick a few project managers on them to keep them from getting distracted. Actually, you’ve been promoted. You’re the project manager until we sort this out.”
“Yes, sir!” Lily said. She sped off toward headquarters.
Yama was an experienced man, so he’d learned that rushing did not solve everything. Someone needed to keep a calm eye out. So while Lily went to take care of immediate matters, he sat on a boat on the river to think.
Too many events were happening all at the same time, and Yama didn’t believe in coincidences. He was missing something. It was only after connecting all the dots that he determined that his initial speculation was correct, and that an outsider hadinfiltrated and orchestrated this entire affair.
The question was why? Why now? What was their goal? A soul flood would cause much chaos due to the number of souls lost and karma gone uncleansed. Memories not getting cleared up would be a huge pain and haunt several generations.
But that was it. The damages wouldn’t nearly add up to what was already caused. Why would they expose their position? Might it have been to keep him, the Lord of the Underworld, busy? What could he have possibly missed?
“Strange…” Yama muttered. “I wonder where those two are?” And then it struck him. They’d done it again! Last time, it was the Jade Emperor, but now the Curse Sovereign? And he was colluding with outsiders?
Then he calmed himself. “No, that can’t be right. Even the Curse Sovereign isn’t that stupid. And how would I even prove it?” Immortal Zhong and Daoist Obscurus had been hard at work investigating the entire affair and had found no traces. At most, this was a coincidence until he could prove otherwise.
“What a pain,” Yama muttered. He’d been had, and there was nothing he could do about it. As for the karmic shift… it was the Jade Emperor’s mess. And Yama was determined to make him clean it up.
--
End Book 14: Pendulum of Fate
--
The first question you probably wonder is... did I have to? In truth, I didn't. I could have probably gone a completely different direction. But this was foreshadowed a lot, and you can tell from the epilogue, is actually very important to the plot that I've been laying out for the couple of years, and is currently only half finished.
There's also a matter of tension... if people get together so easily, then stick together all lovey-dovey for the entire novel, that gets boring very quickly, and the significant other soon becomes an accessory.
But enough author's commentary. Feel free to speculate as you like, because my lips are sealed. I now go on break for a month, which isn't really a break but a gap in which I can catch up on writing and get you book 15 content as soon as possible.
Patron contributions have been suspended already and will resume automatically a month from now. I will get you all Book 14 - Part 1 eBook files before deleting. I hope within a week.
As for Book 15 - Part 1, it's already finished to Draft 2 at 170k words. It's with my beta readers, and I will have a third draft done by the end of the month before I begin posting again. By then, I should be well along Book 15 part 2, enough to massage the manuscript a little and smooth out the fit.
I hope you've all enjoyed the journey thus far, and I am very thankful for your support. I really hope I've earned it thus far and will try to live up to your expectations going forward.
See you all in a month.
Cheers,
Patrick
