Chương 66: Chapter 15

Nenqin inspected the mud. The marks were strange, as though something heavy was dragged across it. Two deeper tracks ran on its sides. A sled? It must have carried something heavy to leave these tracks. He stood up, absent-mindedly brushing dirt from his knees. The forest that made up most of Danghan's Revenge spread around him. Great, gnarled trees with silver and golden bark were loaded with red leaves and amber vines. Plants cradled flowers of every color and offered fruits.

The air smelled of spring, and buzzed with insects that shone and sparked like fireflies. Above, the sky was a pleasant shade of violet and red, a twilight with none of its melancholy and everything about the vitality of dawn. Everything was light and color and life. A pleasant place all around. And yet, the unease that had been with him since his arrival refused to leave. Am I overthinking?

"Young Master!" Haoran dropped like a boulder from the sky. The massive warrior landed with a boom, turning a patch of grass into a crater. Nenqin smiled. Devastation aside, there was something reliable about his old friend. Not like he cared about it.

"I told you to stay put!" He rumbled, anger warring with respect warring with concern.

"It's the second time already!" Nenqin's smile turned rueful.

"You're right." He bowed his head.

"I have allowed my eagerness to take control again. My apologies to you, old friend." That took the wind out of his sails.

"Nothing, nothing," he grumbled, almost fretting.

"You… you shouldn't apologize so easily, Young Master. It's not proper. Just don't stray again." Nenqin bowed deeper. He still felt guilty for manipulating Haoran like that. Nothing took the wind out of his old friend's anger like a bout of humble apology.

"Come," the old warrior said.

"The owl is ready to talk." He made to turn away, then stiffened. He glanced at him.

"You've done it again, haven't you?" He asked, in disbelief.

"Throwing in an apology so that I wouldn't scold you!" Nenqin cringed. Busted. You're not as clever as you think you are, Wu Nenqin.

"Haoran…"

"How many times…" Haoran looked very ready to smack him, just like he did in the old times, when Nenqin was just the Palace's orphan and he a lost drunkard. He slapped a hand over his face instead.

"I should be angry. Hell, I should trash you, loyalty be damned. And here I am instead, feeling proud because you're still crafty." Nenqin couldn't have kept the smile from reaching his face even if he tried. In public, Haoran was the perfect retainer. Only when they were in private did he turn back into his old friend and first master, the grumbling old guard of the Palace who never hesitated using the baton to keep him in line. That was still something Nenqin treasured deeply.

"I could tell you that if you say that you care for what is proper, I am obliged to start playing old tricks as a response."

"You could." Haoran's eyes blazed with a mix of amusement and warning.

"But then you'd get a trashing for real. Come on. This will interest you. And then maybe you'll manage to stay still for half a minute." Without waiting for an answer, Haoran gathered his legs and jumped, disappearing as fast as he arrived. Still smiling, Wu Nenqin summoned his Night and followed. He couldn't move as fast, but crystallizing steps out of his Qi to use as steps made for a quick road. To each his own, as long as it works. The camp was hidden in a rocky fold on a pinnacle's side.

There were many like that littering the region, acting as the hubs for human civilization in an otherwise forested province. Nenqin straightened his robes and made sure his ponytail was secure before striding between the tents. Back in his retainer persona, Haoran followed at a respectful distance. The Owls didn't pause from their occupations, but he still felt their attention on him. Suspicious, disdainful. Just like coming home, an ironic part of him commented.

He smothered it, making sure to keep his expression smoothed out. The commander waited for them beside a camp table loaded with maps. Tenzin. There was shockingly little known about the new commander of the Owls. The only certain thing about him was that he was a favorite of the Immortal. Someone went as far as to say he would soon be named Grand Owl. Whatever the truth, he represented a faction that had risen to rival the Main Branch in its closeness to the Founder. That was enough for Nenqin to be wary of him.

After exchanging greetings, they got down to business.

"The Owls have scouted Danghan's Revenge extensively," Tenzin began, grim and professional.

"The region can be mostly divided into three sections: the forests are just that. They cover most of Danghan and apart from a few paths, they are uncivilized in the human sense. They are inhabited by the Yokai tribes, who have villages and enclaves but no cities. The pinnacles are thin, spear-shaped rocky pinnacles. They dot the whole region, but cluster in the north-west section. The Danghan's Sect is situated on them, on the tops and inside. The Danghan Disciples use war-kites to move among them."

"How do they climb back?" Nenqin asked. Tenzin nodded. If the interruption annoyed him, he didn't show it.

"Elders stationed on the pinnacles' sides use their Qi to summon stairs, which are then dispelled." Haoran scowled.

"So they have the guts to still use the Night Arts." Nenqin smiled inside while the two adjutants eyed the Nascent Soul with wariness. One for subtlety, Haoran was not.

"That makes the pinnacles difficult to enter." If he was impressed, Tenzin didn't show it.

"As we speak, my operatives are looking for a way in."

"Psht, then there's no extensive anything here."

"I was talking about the geography." Nenqin raised a hand, stopping Haoran from continuing to argue.

"These forests," he said.

"They're inhabited by Yokai, correct? What do we know of them?" Tenzin watched him.

"A collection of outsiders, with their own language and customs. Most of them are mystical creatures living in tune with the woods. They were never amenable to allowing humans into their domain, even going so far as to band together to repel them whenever they tried. The sect never cared much for the resources of this region, so no serious attempt was ever made to address the problem. When the beastkin swarmed into the province, many Night Disciples came here looking for refuge.

The Siege locked them out, so they settled. In time, they allied with the Yokai for mutual survival against the beastkin, and then the demonic cultivators." The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"Are they dangerous?"

"Up to a point. None among them reaches Nascent Soul, but they are led by creatures easily on par with Core Formation experts."

"I see. What about the Danghan Sect?" Something hard flashed in Tenzin's eyes.

"They call themselves the Reborn Night, but all they wield is an incomplete version of the Shadow Arts, likely for a lack of knowledge. Like the Yokai, they are led by a council of Core Formation Elders." Nenqin studied the map. The pinnacles made for an excellent defensive position. Add the forest, and its inhabitants, and you had a position which survival in a world coming apart made more than sense. And still…

"Do they have any grand formation?" Tenzin frowned, as though that was a topic he puzzled over too.

"The pinnacles form one. Properly activated and energized, it'd be a threat to a Nascent Soul. We found clear signals of another in the forest. It was unusual enough that it's likely of Yokai design, but it wasn't any stronger."

"Noted," Haoran grunted.

"Enough to keep an old dog like me wary, then. But what about the whole damn Sect? How do these idiots reckon to hold us back? And I am not even mentioning the Founder. She could sweep this whole region away and they'd not be able to do anything."

"If this is everything…" Nenqin wondered.

"Have there been traces of high-level Treasures?" Tenzin shook his head.

"My operatives scan the pinnacles day and night with their perceptions, but nothing has emerged yet. If they have it, it's well hidden." None of them mentioned it, but they all knew it. A Treasure able to hold back the Founder was a very real possibility. They couldn't discount it. And then there was the taboo topic: that the Founder's movements were limited, and that they could count on her arrival only to a certain point.

"Then what we must do is clear." Nenqin straightened up.

"The pinnacles must be infiltrated and the possibility confirmed or denied." Tenzin radiated with the certainty of a dog who caught the scent.

"Without a doubt. Even forcing them to activate it would fulfill the mission." Which may mean losses. Nenqin didn't need to hear it spoken to know what Tenzin meant, or that he would consider soldiers lost for it a worthwhile trade. After all, confirming that there was no Immortal-rank Treasure would seal the question. Nenqin didn't grimace. He couldn't afford to.

"First, we need more information," he said, leaning over the table.

"Movements, numbers, everything that could help us quantify what opposition we will have to overcome." He tilted his head toward Tenzin.

"You hold the expertise in this, Master Tenzin. I am sure the Owls have demonstrated their skills once again." Flattery and humbleness usually worked. In Tenzin's case, he struggled to get a read. The man was as stone-faced as one could be. In a way, Nenqin found himself admiring him.

"We have numbers, yes." He tapped on a spot on the map where the pinnacles congregated.

"This is Danghan's Peak. The Reborn Night's forces and infrastructure are concentrated here. Estimates put their total numbers in the low thousands. Two thousand at best. With a couple hundred spread around the other pinnacles to act as sentinels. Their patrols move above the forest daily, from twelve to twenty." Haoran crossed his arms, taking in the geography with expert eyes.

"With the place being so forested, they can't be very efficient."

"On the contrary," Tenzin countered.

"Closer to the Peak, the forests turn sparser, enough that escaping their flying patrols becomes a difficult proposition." He splayed his fingers on the map.

"The third recognizable section of the region is just this. You may call it the open ground in short. It's a difficult place to navigate unseen, which is why my operatives have been keeping away for now." Haoran grunted.

"Stealth?"

"The Reborn Night possesses inside knowledge of our techniques. I'd rather avoid using them for now."

"Fair." The old warrior's eyes roamed the dangerous zone.

"A bit of a pain this is…" Nenqin agreed. They had to infiltrate, but to do that, they needed to get close first. That ring of open ground made it difficult. Even moving at night would likely provide little in the way of advantage: the Reborn Night likely expected it, especially after that insulting message. They had to know a retaliation from their mother Sect would be coming. Haoran could force his way in, but then he would be alone against that grand formation. And if they truly had an Immortal-Grade…

Despite all of this, Nenqin still could barely believe the impudence. What did possess them to challenge the Founder? Something didn't feel right here. But it was no time for gut feeling, so he pushed it down.

"How do they supply themselves?" He asked.

"The pinnacles aren't wide enough for farming."

"Flying ships," Tenzin said.

"They come down once every fortnight. They likely foraged before. Now, they receive supplies from the Yokai." He frowned.

"They're under heavy surveillance, as it can be expected. Only Core Formation guard them." Nenqin frowned.

"No ground caravans?"

"None. But I believe they are our choicest means of entrance. If we can board one, it'll allow us to bypass the open ground entirely." Nenqin weighed the idea. It was sound, in theory, but, again, he had a bad feeling about it. And while he knew when not to, he also learned to listen to his instinct.

"What about the Yokai?" He asked instead.

"Do they follow the Reborn Night in its rebellion?"

"No," was the firm reply.

"My operatives interrogated the locals extensively, both willing and unwilling. We have ascertained that the Yokai know nothing of this. In fact, they have mostly detached themselves from the Reborn Night, limiting themselves to supplying them with food." He paused.

"Some kind of disagreement over policy." Which was another way of saying that it was important info, and that he wouldn't hear more from him, not for free. Nenqin was painfully reminded of his position. He was no Deputy Master here, only a stray young warrior with little authority. His thoughts must have been visible, because Tenzin straightened up.

"Plans are already in motion," the Owl said.

"Should you decide to join us, Young Master, I'll require you to put yourself under my command." There was little in the way of comprehension in the assassin's eyes.

"I lack the authority to command you, but it's me the Founder has entrusted with this task, and I shall not be remiss in upholding that trust." Nenqin tilted his head in acknowledgement.

"I'd be a sin to do anything different. But I will have to ask your forgiveness, Master Tenzin. I won't join you immediately. My path leads me elsewhere for the time being. But I'll be present when the Owls need me." Tenzin's eyebrows knitted. Maybe he wanted to say that the Owls didn't need him, not now, nor later. But he kept it to himself.

"Haoran will join you in my stead." The old warrior, as he very much expected, wasn't keen on the idea.

"Young Master…"

"Of course," Tenzin interjected calmly.

"Sir Haoran is a strategic asset of the Sect. His presence here is fundamental to the fulfillment of our operation." He watched him, not at all intimidated by the difference in Realms between them.

"His forcing us to wait for Elder Xing would reach the ear of the Ancestor, no doubt about it."

"You…!" Before Haoran could say something they would both regret, Nenqin jumped in.

"If you don't mind, Master Tenzin, my retainer and I have a few words to exchange." Before receiving an answer, he was already storming away. Haoran hesitated, but then followed.

"What are you thinking?" He hissed once they were out of earshot.

"I am not leaving you."

"I am not a child." The words came out sharper than he wanted them, but the truth remained.

"And Tenzin is right. If this operation has to succeed, a Nascent Soul will be needed. You will be needed, Haoran. Do you remember why I have come here in the first place?" The old warrior turned away, baring his teeth.

"Remind me." Nenqin hated when he decided to be difficult.

"To regain our honor," he hissed.

"An honor that at the moment is non-existent."

"Is it?" Haoran snorted.

"The Main Branch was on top of the world, last time I checked."

"Yes, as bureaucrats!" Nenqin snapped.

"As glorified pencil-pushers! You think that nobody else could take the role? The Founder likely chose us only because we bear her name! Give it a generation and anyone else could replace us! No, if we want to retain our place, we must show we can be of use. I must…" He had been the first. The Founder threw him aside because his lineage had shown its uselessness. He could see it happen to the rest of the Main Branch. No, they had to show their value, and it fell to him to be the first in line. Or else Lin…

He let the thought unfinished. He had been far too busy lately to meet up with his beloved little sister. After his failure, he couldn't muster the courage to face her, and had left for Danghan like a coward. He intended to send her a letter, but… Be well, little sister. She passed much time in the Founder's company, he heard. He could only hope it was because the Ancestor took a fancy to her, even if, given her lack of politeness, it felt unlikely.

Whatever reality was, he could only have faith, and make himself useful. His worth would protect her. Haoran scowled at him, but then weariness washed over him, and he sighed.

"So you say, but I am not convinced, Young Master. I wonder if you're doing this for what you say, or if it's just your pride. And if you're even aware which is which." That hurt. His pride. He always thought of the family. Always.

"You gave me your oath," he said, growing cold. He truly thought Haoran would understand. The old warrior's reply was a curse.

"I am not even trying to ask you to stay put. I know you won't. Just don't go wandering into danger unnecessarily. And for all that is dark and cursed, don't go to the Peak on your own. I swear I'll come running and everything will go to shit."

"I'll see what I can do."