Chương 61: A Crippling Question

Rowan Rowan had written his question and popped it into the brass casing before Lavinia returned. He didn't want her to see what he'd written. A series of knocks sounded at the door. Ash let Lavinia in, and her bright eyes immediately went to the case in Rowan's hand.

"Oh?" Lavinia said.

"Starting without me?"

"Didn't know when you'd be back," said Rowan. He placed the case in the chute and pulled the lever, watching as it shot down through the table. He figured Lavinia wouldn't have appreciated Rowan asking about one of her friends. Silvester. One of the merit students and one of his fellow disciples training under Mikael. Ordinarily, Rowan wouldn't be this nosy, but the boy seemed to have something against him. Rowan was a noble cultivator, while Silvester had scraped his way from the bottom. Some friction was normal.

However, he couldn't help but notice that Silvester didn't seem nearly so closed-off around Damion Decatour, the epitome of a noble cultivator. Damion received a huge allowance from his family, pills for cultivation, and whatever his heart desired. Rowan only had the last name, and some training from when he was young. He wanted to know if there was a deeper reason for why Silvester disliked him. The brass casing returned, rolling down into the mouth of the chute. Rowan unfurled the small slip of paper within.

Silvester, Outer Disciple of Righteous Mountain Sect Male, 14, First Layer of Qi Condensation. A merit student who passed the trials to enter the sect, only one of four in his year. Excellent academic record and chosen to train under core disciple Mikael Maulkin. Originally sold by his aunt to labor in the silver mines of Frosstown #14. His potential was seen by Baudelain Fross, who personally sponsored him for the sect trials. His path, aptitude, and skills are unknown.

Rowan sent a small burst of qi into the paper, tearing it to shreds. Interesting. So Silvester had a connection to the Fross Family. That explained it. Rowan had just killed their inheriting son after all. Something inside of him continued to feel unsettled. He hadn't known the Fross mines bought indentured labor. The orphanage had been completely full of girls. Where did all the unwanted boys of Righteous Mountain City go? To places like the silver mines?

He wondered how much loyalty Silvester owed to the Fross family. His lips thinned into a frown. There were multiple unpalatable options here, knowing that Silvester disliked him. Either Silvester had been treated well by the Fross family, and it could lead to problems in the future. Or he had been treated poorly, which meant he disliked Rowan for other reasons. If even someone like Silvester had been treated poorly by the Fross family, was there even something that could be done about it?

Forced servitude was frowned upon but not illegal, so long as the status of the person's family wasn't too high. Children were property of their parents and could be made available for hire until they reached their majority. If they weren't involved in demonic cultivation, the sect had no authority to intervene - if they even wanted to. The Helsings kept servants too, but they were well cared for. In fact, they were beaten less than the Helsing children.

Rowan had a good impression of Baudelain Fross, but at the end of the day, he was a businessman first and foremost. If he could save some money on mining labor… Suddenly, he didn't feel so good about this 'Rowan Helsing Charitable Fund'. Was this just a funnel for cheap labor?

"What's with that face?" asked Ash.

"You look way too serious for someone enjoying a cup of afternoon tea." Rowan waved him off and sipped some of his tea. The liquid was still delightfully chilly. If the Decatour Teahouse had this much information about someone like Silvester, he wondered if they might have anything about the Order of the Black Judgment. That was the mysterious organization his mother had been a part of, at least at some point before her cultivation had been crippled.

Ostra went dead silent whenever Rowan tried to pry information out of him about the Black Judgment, just as he did with the rosary. The senior seemed to have something against buddhists. Rowan had asked Lee off-handedly about the Black Judgment once, and even slipped in the name in conversation with a few other people. No one reacted strangely. However, they also didn't seem to have heard about them either. Rowan never wanted to press in case it would draw the wrong eyes toward him.

After all, during his mother's funeral, he remembered how someone had visited his mother's casket, leaving a stuffed toy from her childhood in the box. The person had vanished without anyone seeing him. From Rowan's experiences with high-level cultivators, he suspected the individual was at least in Foundation Establishment. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Even Patriarch Yarrow, who was in late stage Qi Refining, hadn't noticed their presence.

Ash was scribbling thoughtfully on his napkin. Before he could finish, Rowan scrawled out an inquiry about the Order of the Black Judgment as fast as he could and stuffed it into the brass casing, shuttling it off into the chute.

"We're supposed to be taking turns. This is meant to be a social event, Rowan," chastised Ash with a sigh. Rowan cleared his throat.

"I can tell some jokes." Ash gave him a sharp look, as if to say the only jokes I know you'll tell will be ones at our expense. It was true. That was what he'd been planning to do.

"What did you ask for?" Ash wondered.

"Just about my mother," Rowan said with a small smile.

"You shouldn't put too much stock into what the Teahouse has to say about Aunt Iseult," said Ash.

"Aunt Olympia has never forgiven Uncle Pyrus for breaking the engagement with Aunt Ourania." Lavinia tried not to look too interested.

"I've heard Lady Brangaine was a very beautiful woman." The brass casing returned. Rowan grabbed it, opening the slip inside. Have information. Can exchange - High Priority.

"What does this mean?" Rowan asked, trying to only show Ash the response, and not the actual question that he had asked. Lavinia pretended she wasn't trying to read the napkin over the lip of her teacup.

"What did you–" Ash started, then shook his head, thinking better of it.

"You can offer some information, and the family will gauge if its worth the trade. High priority information can only be exchanged for other information. If it's worth more than what you want, they'll give you change. Sometimes even in spirit stones." In spirit stones? Rowan thought about the various pieces of privileged information he had access to. He could never tell anyone about Ostra, or about what had happened in Blackscale Cove. That would be a ridiculous act of self-sabotage.

Likewise, he could not explain the situation with Lieren Nostraga. That left two things. The first was Halfmoon House's mirrors. That could potentially get him killed - or if it didn't, it could land Uxia in much trouble. And then, there was what Archbishop Vilhalo said about the formation stolen by the Dao Court. Rowan began to write. The Seven-Toned Folding Yin Formation removed by the Dao Court from Highwater Orphanage is fundamentally unstable.

It is a modified formation, which was intended to do more than just contain Fading Yin qi. The orbitals have been altered. From center to edge, they now spin clockwise, counterclockwise, counterclockwise, clockwise, clockwise, counterclockwise, clockwise. Whoever is keeping the formation is in grave danger. Rowan folded up the napkin and stuffed it into the brass mechanism and tossed it into the chute. The wait this time was longer.

"The lemon marzipan is wonderful!" said Lavinia, breaking the silence before any awkwardness could take hold.

"It brings out the flavor of the tea in a way that almost makes it taste creamy."

"I prefer the tried and true recipe of ripe cherries." Ash drained two packets of Wasp Honey into his tiny cup, stirring it in with all the sugar cubes.

"Tea should be hot and clear tasting. While the lemon marzipan is a fine flavor, it tastes as if it should be on a dessert and not in my drink. The taste doesn't compliment the tea at all!" Rowan took a sip of his ice cold, unsweetened jasmine tea. His companions' tastebuds were irrecoverable. There was a heavy grinding sound as the chute coughed out another scroll case. Within it was a piece of thicker parchment, written in a neat, even script, different from the last.

The Order of the Black Judgment is a premiere Buddhist Temple known for its aggressive stance against demonic practitioners. If the Still Lotus Temple is the unmoving center of Buddhist orthodoxy, the Order is its major ideological opponent. The Order's main headquarters, Witchwood Grove, is located on the Central Continent, across the water from the site of the Great Uprooting. The Order's foundation includes an Immortal of unknown stature.

The monks of the Black Judgment are known for carrying an artifact known as a Witchwood Rosary, which follows each disciple for life. Students are not permitted to leave the Order. At the bottom of the note was a small, inked footnote. 10 SS. House Decatour thanks you. Ash's face craned forward, but Rowan was too stunned to move. Students are not permitted to leave the Order.

"Ten spirit stones?" Ash shouted, aghast.

"What did you tell–"" Ten?" Lavinia mouthed. Rowan could not bring himself to be excited about being ten spirit stones richer. Students are not permitted to leave the Order. Rowan felt sick. All this time, he had been excited to learn about the Order of the Black Judgment, this powerful, elusive organization his mother had ties to. An organization that hunted demonic cultivators to the last breath. A righteous organization. But who had crippled Iseult Brangaine? You must remember what they do to us.

His fingers itched to feel the rosary - to rip it off. Instead, he stuffed the piece of paper into his sleeves.

"What are you here to find out, Ash?" he said, trying to keep the hoarseness out of his voice.

"Actually, I came here because I was curious about my master at Blackscale Cove," admitted Ash easily.

"Most of the Cavern Lords and Ladies have countless stories to their name. Everyone knows their great deeds and interesting beginnings. But of my own teacher's origins? Nothing."

"Nothing?" echoed Rowan, trying his best to sound as interested as possible. Anything to get the Order of the Black Judgment off of his mind.

"Nothing," said Ash.

"I don't know where she's from. No one's willing to tell me how long she's been a Cavern Lady, or where she learned to cultivate."

"She's good friends with Fairy Snowsong," supplied Rowan. A dark shadow appeared on Ash's face.

"And that's suspicious all on its own, isn't it?"