Chương 50: Chapter 49

Wu Zetian held the treasure in the palm of her hand, watching it consideringly.

"…another Major Treasure, no doubt," Xing Xing finished. The Sect Elder had a focused expression.

"The demonic cultivator knew nothing about it. I made sure of it. All he knew was that his Sect held the treasure. Nothing about his origin, or anything else." Only him, Tenzin and a couple of high-level Owls were present. Security leaks about this had to be avoided at all costs. Even her grandson couldn't know. Because she had her pattern.

"Three times. Always the Twisted Flame," she mused.

"First, the straw doll, then the Spike, then this. The Borderlands are rich in resources. Not rich enough for this. Nor have the Sects of the Borderlands ever developed to the point of being able to craft items of this level." She paused, eyes narrowing.

"An Immortal has supplied them." A tense silence settled in the room. They all knew she was right. The Wasteland may have supplied the materials, but the artifacts bore the mark of craftmanship. The Tower could be a possibility, but it broadcasted its opening, and nothing of the sort was heard in two thousand years. Which left only her chance, with all its implications.

"Must be Chi You or Yellow-Brow," grunted the big Owl. Dharma was Tenzin's and the Order's Champion. His mask was a scowling demon's face.

"The two buggers wanted our guts since the Founder settled on the Plateau."

"It'd make no sense," disagreed Shanti. Tall and poised, radiating polite composure, the woman was Tenzin's second-in-command. Her mask, expressionless and focused, paired well with her features.

"With the Mother of Night in seclusion, the barbarian immortals had returned to their old feud. Why would one of them give away such Treasures? Only the straw doll would have lent one the strength to eliminate the other."

"Eh, who knows how these demons think? Maybe they started this thing and then got sidetracked."

"That is preposterous." It was, but Wu Zetian didn't add her voice to the opinion. She already gave them leave to voice their opinions freely. She needed them.

"Tenzin." Like his soldiers, the man had barely stirred from his kneeling position since the council's start. His aura was still quick to flicker in response.

"I agree with Shanti," he said.

"If they wished for the end of Night, the barbarians wouldn't have needed such a convoluted scheme. They'd only need to assault the Plateau themselves while wielding them. That they haven't, it's certainly enough to say that they aren't the masterminds behind this plot." Not a flattering image, and the Owls' slight aura-cringing told her they knew. But that was reality. Wu Zetian hummed.

"Agreed." Standing, she strode to the window, her long robes trailing behind her. The chamber was in one of Sable Lotus Palace's tallest towers, giving a perfect view of the city. Beneath, the streets were a riot of laughter and festivities as the Nightborn welcomed their cousins. Fireworks lit the Night, painting it with spinning wheels and fields of colors. Wu Zetian mused on how fragile it all was.

"Xing." The Sect Elder was the only person standing. Pressing a fist to his massive chest, he bowed, a gargoyle wrapped in embroidered silk.

"The Dragon Emperor wouldn't dare such a thing," he rumbled, deep with certainty.

"Not only it would deprieve him of an important ally, but it would also mean an expenditure of resources that even the Empire can scarcely afford. Strategically speaking, it would be a suicide. And Xi never entertained the thought." Wu Zetian pressed her hands on the stone windowsill. A colorful dragon breathed firework sparks, casting her features in relief.

"How old are your sources?" Elder Xing's big fist tightened.

"Too old to be relevant, Founder." She hummed. The Dragon Empire. It was supposed to be the Sect's main ally, but reality was more complicated than that. The men of the Empire distrusted the Dark Ones, begrudging them their independence. The only reason their relationship never worsened beyond tense politeness was that they lacked the knowledge to pass the Umbral Basin. Keeping things like that was likely the only item upon which barbarian Immortals, Night and the Borderlands had ever agreed upon.

The way of passage was their cherished secret, never to be shared lest they suffer the Dragon-men's encroachment. The Sect used it to become the de facto defender of the Empire's eastern flank. While it had never satisfied the dragon's hunger, their efficiency and the trade they provided had been enough to keep the situation stable. A thin bond, but a bond nonetheless. Now, it seemed to have snapped.

"The fires have gone silent," the Sect Elder said.

"Not only snuffed out. Extinguished entirely. Whoever is the culprit, he wished for all contacts to be lost." The Umbral Fires were the way through which the Night and the Dragon communicated. The imperials would keep the cold-flames stoked, raising and dimming them as the need for messages went. The Nightborn would see them through the murk of the Basin and reply as needs were. Even during the Sect's long decline, the fires called, the Sect selling and buying from the Empire.

Since the moment of their inception, the fires had never been allowed to go extinguished. Doing so meant that the dragon-men would need to beseech the Dark Ones for more, and they were far too prideful for that. That they were meant that something had gone very wrong in the west.

"There's another possibility," Tenzin interjected. Wu Zetian didn't turn from the spectacle outside.

"Speak."

"The Will of the Wasteland." That triggered the Sect Elder's dismissal. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"Legends," he scoffed, glancing toward the Owl with a mix of focus and distrust.

"Fairytales told by grandmothers. It was never proved that the Wasteland was anything different from a highly aggressive ecosystem."

"Neither was it ever disproven," was the quiet reply. Xing didn't argue, but his gaze sharpened as though he was taking the measure of the Owl anew.

"A theory." Wu Zetian cut through the debate, putting an end to it instantly. She turned to regard her little council.

"Nothing more. Yet, one worthy pursuing. If the Will truly exists and can puppeteer the barbarians to that extent, its threat must be assessed and dealt with, especially since we'll soon have it as our neighbor. That will be done in time." They bowed, assenting.

"With that, there are other options." She paused, watching as a wheel of fire careened across the sky.

"As I trust it's clear by now, this was done by someone who wished to remain anonymous. Someone with the power and resources to hand out Immortal-Rank Treasures to puppets and likely be confident that they could retrieve them easily once their scheme was complete." Saying it was enough to put a thrill even in her Immortal composure. Very, very few entities existed with the clout and breadth of plans to imagine such a thing, let alone put it in effect. They knew it too.

It spoke volumes about their discipline that tense shoulders and fists were the best the awareness of it could drag out of them.

"Gonggong, the Flood God. He could have." The name dropped in the chamber like a stone. The Owls tensed, turning into stone statues. Xing Xing drew back, eye flashing. His fingers traced a gesture to ward off misfortune. Wu Zetian didn't comment. There was, just outside her Immortal perceptions, the feeling of something fathomless. In the distance, ever so slightly twitching. An underwater giant, poked by a needle.

"Is that possible?" Dharma's question was half fear, half delight.

"I always heard that the Worldeater is like an animal."

"Quiet!" Xing Xing growled. Dharma flinched, outraged, but Tenzin raised his hand, and he stopped at once. Mph, that level of monster will do this much quenching.

"Oh, calm down." Pulling up her robes, Wu Zetian stepped onto the windowsill. She sat on it, pressing her back against the wall and extending her leg on the rim.

"Just a little joke," she said, another firework casting her faint smile in stark impression.

"The Flood God doesn't play like that." She didn't bother to hear the reply. Dangling a leg over the drop, she watched the play outside. Gonggong. A name that threw terror into the hearts of mortals and Immortals alike. A God in the flesh. A calamity made real. Very few dared to utter his name, let alone try to guess his intentions. But yes, he didn't play intrigue. The world he almost shattered twenty-five millennia before could attest to that.

"The Founder knows something about this," Xing Xing said, brushing his beard, an intrigued light in his eyes. Wu Zetian glanced at him, smiling a little. Yes, she did, but not in the way the Elder thought. Tales of Ascension spoke about them all. Gonggong, the Will, the Tower, the Barbarian Immortals, the Dragon Empire; in one way or the other, the novel touched upon each. Threats, all of them, or problems to address, but described well enough that she could make a list of priorities.

None of them were the minds behind the conspiracy.

"There's Tien," she said, casual.

"The Heavenly Immortals?" Tenzin asked, a frown in his voice.

"Would they reach as far?" Xing Xing scowled, his expression enough to say what he thought of the topic. Not surprising: the Grand Heaven was generally held in disdain by cultivators everywhere. It was them, the legends said, that sent down the Tribulations that stood in the way of those who attempted ascension, them who declared cultivation an abhorrent practice and cultivators who reached for immortality a danger for the universe.

It was always them who laid claim to the upper world, resisted any "lowborn" attempting to ascend and claimed guardianship of the lower world. Self-styled Gods who acted as lords and masters of all. It was them. The novel wasn't clear about it. The story glossed over how the Twelve Demon Alliance took over Qinghai, and never went back to explain how big, and if any at all, of a role Grand Heaven had in it.

Li Zi met them in the third book, right after returning to the Wu Plateau and defeating what remained of the Twelve Demon Alliance, and any possible answer was quickly swallowed by a rush of combat against the new villain. Watching the artifacts, Wu Zetian knew she had the missing pieces: it was the Heavenly Ones who provided the Twisted Flame with its treasures. Not only did they work as the "bigger villain after a villain" trope; they were the reason why the latter happened at all.

Which was concerning, but not so much as to be an immediate danger. For all their bluster, the Heavenly Ones didn't go unopposed: there were powers in the lower world they needed to watch themselves from, and that was why they worked in the shadows, using and discarding proxies in their endless attempts to assert their control over the Immortals of the lower world. Like in this case, and it provided the reason why Tenzin wasn't sure about their involvement.

They wouldn't return soon; she knew enough of them and their ongoing schemes to know as much. Which gave her space and time she would need to use wisely. If Tien was making its move against her kind, she would need to be ready. But nobody else needed to know as much.

"Maybe," she said, non-committal.

"They always hated my kind. For our… presumption. It wouldn't surprise me that they supplied the demonic ones with weapons in one of their schemes."

"That's bullcrap!" Dharma blurted out before Shanti slapped him. Wu Zetian tilted her head back. Her hair slid down her shoulders as she watched him. The big man seemed to shrink.

"That it is." Smiling, she turned to watch the fireworks.

"But it's just another theory. No point in chasing ghosts when we have our hands full as it is." They got her meaning, bowing, not pressing. Wu Zetian looked outside. In the streets, people from the lowlands were being shown some traditional dances. As clumsy as kittens compared to their cousins, they kept slipping and missing the notes, but that didn't dim the hilarity one bit. Heaven, mh? The night sky was pretty like this, painted with colors and light and noise.

Gods were supposed to be watching from beyond there. Gods who weren't such at all. Were they surprised, she wondered? Stunned? Wary? With her arrival, she had thrown their plans into disarray, and now the fate of the story, once so linear and precise, was completely out of whack. Why, maybe the Heavenly Ones' involvement wasn't even countenanced in the original story. Maybe it had sprouted into existence alongside her. What a way to welcome me. I may be flattered.

"This changes little," she mused.

"I shall not start looking to the Heavens while barbarians beat to my doors. Our aim remains unchanged: the Grand Silent Formation's restoration. Once that is accomplished, we shall see what to do about those who wish us harm." She paused, letting her words sink. The Owls bowed their heads, steely in faith as they were in arm.

"Yet, it won't do to let the world pass us by. Elder Xing." The Elder bowed, one fist pressed on his chest.

"Yes, Ancestor."

"The Sect has side branches in the Xi Empire, has it not?"

"Yes, Founder. Two, created on order of Wu Zhan. The previous Deputy Master was enough of a fool to believe their Elders' assurances." Wu Zetian tsked inside. The fool kept haunting her, even from the grave. No side branch had ever been allowed to settle west of the Basin. The reason was simple: the dragon-men would have ripped the secret of its traversal from its members, or they would have let something slip. By allowing it, Wu Zhan had essentially made sure that there would be a leak.

"They likely sold us out already," she said, sniffing.

"What is done is done. Elder Xing, start putting together plans for an expedition. Now that our basic needs are fulfilled, some of the Sect's forces shall be dispatched beyond the Basin to reforge our bonds with the Empire and the side branches. The latter shall join them in their journey home, or be forsaken." An empty threat, and they both knew it. If they betrayed, the side branches were likely already safely under Xi's protection. Still, Xing didn't argue.

"It shall be done, Founder."

"Yes, and… Xing?" The Elder paused. Wu Zetian glanced toward him, her eyes glowing between the veil of her hair.

"It's time for the lost daughter to return home. Find her. And find whoever traitor ran that way of the sun." Xing bowed, not replying this time.

"This is all. Dismissed." Wu Zetian didn't turn to watch them leave. Her attention was for the festivities still ongoing. The officers of the Sect would move soon to disperse them: a hard day waited the Nightborn and duty couldn't be fulfilled with sleepy eyes. Until then, though, the people celebrated. Fragile, yes, Wu Zetian thought. And yet, mine. Gods and monsters. Traitors and schemers. Quite the spread arrayed itself against her. And yet, she was a monster herself. A sacred monster. A dark guardian.

A greedy old woman turned chimera. Heaven would do better to bring its best.