Xue Lan tilted his head upward. The frost flowers at his feet stopped blooming, frozen in a state of mid-growth. His eyes narrowed, the mild curiosity sharpening into a colder expression.
"Jian Yue," Xue Lan murmured, the name tasting like ash on his tongue. "The Warden’s favorite stray. I should have known the scent of old paper and concealed things would follow up this mess."
Jian Yue stood on the edge of the stone, tilting his robes. He looked down at them, his gaze skipping over the slaves, finally landing on the ’Royal Guard.’ In his hand, he held a blade that looked like petrified wood made of the bone of ’Yan Gu.’
"You talk too much about elegance." Jian Yue said. "But beauty is just a distraction to hide the fact that your ’Master’ couldn’t handle a Warden’s Stray."
Xue Lan’s smile didn’t falter, but his fingers twitched. "Handle you? Oh, the execution. It was supposed to be a flawless ending. And yet... It was interrupted. A sudden, unexplained silence occurred there where they should have been screaming their lungs out."
Xue Lan stepped forward; the surrounding air shivered with a predatory intent. "Was it you, Jian Yue? Did you do that?"
Jian Yue didn’t even flinch. He let the tip of his sword dip over the roof. "Yes, I did that; it was an unnecessary execution."
For a fraction of a second, the mask of the ’Royal Guard’ slipped. A tremor passed through Xue Lan’s expression, but it was not of rage. Maybe an expression of relief or a tiny spark of warmth that vanished as quickly as it appeared.
"Is that so?" Xue Lan said, his voice dropping low. "Then you’ve committed a crime against the Honorable Court’s vision. I have to bury you down."
Xue Lan moved his hand. The frost flowers at his feet shattered, and the shards hung in the air. A constellation of frozen malice. Then they shot upward, aimed directly at Jian Yue.
Jian Yue lifted his one finger up and chanted.
"Silence," he commanded. His voice was absolute, and the world around him got unnaturally numb.
The concept of ’impact’ seemed to vanish from the courtyard. They stuck fast, embedded in the stone without a crack as if they had always been there. The world became a muffled nightmare. Jian Yue jumped from the roof. He landed on the ground, but no sound followed. He lunged, his bone blade aiming for Xue Lan’s throat. His hand grasped his bone sword tight.
The blade touched Xue Lan, but Xue Lan’s body scattered into luna moths with fabulous long tails. They fluttered as if saying, "You already missed."
"An illusion?!" Jian Yue muttered.
"Illusion? Who said?" Xue Lan’s hand held Jian Yue’s sword. The moths forged his body again. Jian Yue’s expression faltered from the realization.
"Don’t tell me you really thought I’d stay in the same seventh ’Ordinal’ for the last two years?" Xue Lan scoffed and paused. His eyes locked with Jian Yue’s. "But you are. We aren’t at the same power today."
WHACK
Xue Lan punched him in his guts. Jian Yue gasped for air. He didn’t see the hook coming. A sharp pain, a thud that felt like a knot in his stomach. His eyes squinted, staring down.
Mo Fei and the group watched quietly.
Jian Yue stumbled backward. "When did you ascend to the next Ordinal? Weren’t you with the ’Overseer’ all that time?" His voice carried the frustration of the blow. His face was tight in disbelief.
Xue Lan stepped forward with a smug, cold grin. "Surprise... But I wonder how you didn’t." He paused for a dramatic effect. "Ohhh, that’s right, you were ’busy’ trying to save the ascenders."
Those words struck Jian Yue like a physical blow. He lunged forward, but that time Xue Lan didn’t dissolve into moths. Instead, he raised a hand, palm outward.
The air between them rippled, as if they were inside an ocean. Jian Yue’s charge slowed, his movements growing heavy. Around them, the world began to soften. The sharp edges of the courtyard blurred. The ice seemed to waver like a mirage. The scent of his perfume grew overwhelming.
Xue Lan slowly walked, holding Jian Yue’s hand, and then spun. He threw Jian Yue, crashing him at the walls.
"Argh!" Jian Yue hit the walls with a loud thud. His eyes closed in pain.
"You see," Xue Lan murmured, his voice now the same melodic tone as before, "at the Sixth ’Ordinal,’ the dreams and illusions are up to me whether I want them to be real or not." He chuckled and then added, "What you just saw wasn’t just merely an illusion."
Jian Yue moved forward, appearing right in front of him. He swung his blade, but before he could, a root emerged from the ground and held his ankle. Jian Yue’s attack wavered. Xue Lan stepped sideways. He lifted his hand with a severing motion and snapped his fingers. It echoed once.
At that same moment the root disappeared.
Jian Yue didn’t even fully trip. From the knee down, his limb dissolved into a millennium of worms, centipedes, and grotesque insects. His balance faltered from the sudden illusion, and he crashed into the ground.
Before Xue Lan could make a smug look, Jian Yue appeared behind him. He hit Xue Lan with the hilt of his blade. The hit forced Xue Lan to stumble, but he recovered from it almost instantly.
Mo Fei felt it. The throbbing pain in his side dulled. When he looked down, threads were closing his wound.
His vision swam, and without conscious command, his Apprentice’s Eyes flared up.
He saw Xue Lan’s spirit thread, each one extending out to touch the environment, weaving the dream into reality. A dream had always ended, right? But Mo Fei had no strength for a physical blow. He was no help right now, but he still made one last attempt.
"Grig, throw this Glaive at them, there." Mo Fei said, pointing toward a thread. Grig nodded and took the Glaive. He braced his hands back and threw them swiftly in the direction Mo Fei pointed.
The blade passed through the air and sliced through a thread. His expression was surprised. "So it can actually cut them." Of course he didn’t know... Even I didn’t know.
The Glaive landed on the ground. Xue Lan staggered a single step back. A trickle of blood escaped his nose. His hand reached out to touch it, staring at the crimson on his white fingers with pure disbelief.
"You..." he breathed, looking from his shoulder at Mo Fei. His eyes were no longer calm; they were filled with fury when he saw the blood. "Your ’Authority’... Can see the spirit world?" Xue Lan turned toward him.
Mo Fei met his gaze, panting as he took a few steps back. He didn’t speak; he already knew what was coming next.
"A Witness," Xue Lan whispered, the word laden with terrifying significance. "Not a dreamer, not a warrior... but a low Ordinal ascended."
Jian Yue didn’t let the moment linger. He quickly threw himself toward him, his shoulder smacking him. Xue Lan’s body disappeared again. "Now!" Jian Yue shouted, grabbing Elara’s arm and shoving her toward a narrow archway half-hidden by a withered vine. "Move there!"
They fled, a stumbling, bleeding retreat. Mo Fei, supported by Han, cast one last look over his shoulder at Xue Lan, who appeared again.
Xue Lan stared back, wiping off blood from a handkerchief, and then he threw it away. He did not chase them. He just stood there without any intention of following. His fury was gone, replaced by that same interest. He raised a hand in a slow, deliberate wave of acknowledgment, yes... That narcissist ass waved a goodbye.
His voice was carried on a wind that shouldn’t have been able to reach them. It slithered into Mo Fei’s ear alone, bypassing his damaged hearing once again: "Run, little Witness. Run with your friends. Don’t worry, I will not tell the Overseer that a wounded bird has entered the garden..." Mo Fei looked again at him in surprise, flabbergasted by those words.
Then they went through the archway, down a cramped alley. Finally, a weathered door came into their sight. The eight beautiful flowers were arranged in a line perfectly.
The door opened with a crunch. When they fell inside, it slammed shut behind them, cutting off the world.
The house was a small, square room of bare stone. A single candle burned on a table; its flame was still and smokeless. The air was dead, devoid of scent or the whispering pressure of a Dreamer.
Jian Yue slid down the wall, clutching his ribs. He focused his gaze at Mo Fei; his expression turned grim.
"He let us go," Jian Yue muttered flatly.
"Why?" Han asked, sinking to the floor beside Mo Fei, and examined his reopened wound. He spoke again, instead of waiting for an answer. "Do you have anything to heal?" Upon hearing that, Jian Yue nodded and reached out toward a wardrobe.
Inside it was a paste made of roots, a natural healer. He gave it to Han and then answered.
"Because he had never seen someone choosing the forgotten God’s ’Authority.’ He is a complex man who takes interest in things he has never seen before."
Han applied it to Mo Fei’s wounds. While it wasn’t sufficient for complete healing, it relieved the pain.
"Is that so..." Mo Fei had noticed it, but he kept his mouth shut. There was certainly another reason; he’d not have let go of Jian Yue if it were because of Mo Fei.
Jian pushed himself up, wincing slightly. He moved his hand in his pocket and took out a piece of torn sleeve fabric. "Is this yours? I found this in World Two."
Mo Fei took the fabric from his hand. It was his.
"Yes, I got attacked by a bone monster who wanted my eyes..." Mo Fei’s whole body shivered at that thought.
"Yan Gu." Jian Yue addressed the monster. "You survived for so long alone, which is already an achievement, and now, when you chose an ’Authority’. It’s time for you to know the harsh truth."
Jian Yue’s voice was sharp; his expression remained serious.
Grig, Elara, and Han looked at Jian Yue. Their breaths caught in their throats.
Mo Fei raised his hand, thumping his ear.
"You know that I can’t really hear you well..."