Chương 11: "Whatever you do, this ends the same way"

Ch 11: "Whatever you do, this ends the same way" Three pairs of eyes fixed on Shuo, waiting for his explanation. Mei-Bao leaned forward, her braid slipping over her shoulder.

"What are you talking about, old man?" She looked at him suspiciously.

"What other way?" Shuo gave her a small smile.

"Whether he trains as a cultivator or not, now that he's opened his first spirit gate, Zhen can't hide forever." He traced a finger around the rim of his cup.

"But it may be possible to delay the Folded Shadows catching up with him." Zhen felt a flicker of hope. Mei-Bao's laugh was brittle.

"And where in the world could any cultivator go where the Folded Shadows won't find them?" Shuo said nothing, just raised his eyebrows meaningfully. Confusion crossed Mei-Bao's face, then her eyes widened in shock.

"You can't possibly be suggesting what I think you are." Shuo shrugged.

"Have you never wondered how I've stayed out of the reach of the Folded Shadows for so long?" Without waiting for an answer, Shuo rose and went to a chest in the corner. He pulled out a cloth bundle of deep indigo that Zhen recognized as the robes the old cultivator had been wearing when he had first encountered him on the road. Clean now, and mended, but unmistakably the same. Shuo returned to the table and folded back the lapel of the robe to reveal embroidery of a stylized mountain peak wreathed in clouds.

Gang's mouth fell open.

"You've been hiding on the estate of The Cloudstone Peak Sect?" His voice rose.

"They're our…" He paused and started again.

"They are the sworn enemies of the Order." Shuo looked affronted.

"I haven't been hiding there," he corrected.

"I've been working there in plain sight, they just don't know who I am." His lips twitched.

"Where better to rest these old bones and stay out of trouble?" Zhen looked between them, trying to grasp the significance of what was being discussed. He had never heard of The Cloudstone Peak Sect, but that didn't mean much. He knew little of the world beyond the village, and even less about the rarified lives of sects and cultivators. Mei-Bao scoffed.

"You've been working, old man? How would you know how to do an honest day's work?" Shuo pointedly glanced out the window toward the forge, then back at Mei-Bao.

"We've all had to learn new things, child. If Zhen can manage to join The Cloudstone Peak Sect, he won't stand out for a long while." Shuo's eyes twinkled.

"If you want to hide a rare coin, you throw it into the Emperor's treasury." Zhen straightened at this, hope rising in him.

"He'll have time to learn how to become a cultivator with access to resources most cultivators can only dream of." Shuo's eyes gleamed.

"Even when the Folded Shadows eventually work it out, and they will, even they will think twice before going after a disciple of The Cloudstone Peak Sect." Mei-Bao threw up her hands in frustration.

"And why do you think Zhen even has a chance to get in? Even the wealthiest, most talented youths from around the Empire who've been trained and coddled from birth don't make it in. Zhen's seventeen. He opened his first spirit gate yesterday. Everyone else trying to get in opened multiple spirit gates before they were even in their teens. What does he have?" Shuo smiled.

"He has me. I'll train him on the journey there." Zhen felt his heartbeat quicken. A chance to train properly, to cultivate openly, sounded too good to be true. But before he could voice his thoughts, Chul's frantic neighing pierced the night. Shuo's hand shot up, commanding silence. All humor vanished from his face as his eyes went unfocused for a moment then snapped back. He turned to Gang and Mei-Bao.

"I hope you were holding back when you fought me earlier." His voice dropped as he stood.

"Because, if not, things are about to get ugly." A chill ran down Zhen's spine. The dry, sarcastic master who had been training him was gone. In his place stood something considerably more dangerous. Gang rose slowly, his chair scraping against the floor. Mei-Bao followed suit.

"How many?" Gang asked, his voice calm. Shuo closed his eyes briefly.

"Too many." He looked at Zhen.

"Get your hammers." Zhen didn't hesitate. He darted to where his hammers rested against the wall and picked them up. Gang moved to a floorboard and pried it up, pulling out a long cloth bundle. For a moment, the room smelled of cold oil and ancient blood. He unwrapped a massive two-handed jian, its blade etched with runes that pulled at the light. A warrior's weapon, kept hidden and ready for seventeen years. Outside, Chul's neighing grew more desperate.

Zhen gripped his hammers tighter, fear mingling with a strange anticipation. Mei-Bao pulled a thin silver chain from around her neck, revealing the circular pendant she always wore. It expanded and unfurled like the wings of a steel crane and two fans opened with the snap of a dozen swords being drawn at once. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work! Shuo looked at Gang and Mei-Bao with a small smile.

"You were holding back before. Good. I would hate to have wasted all that time training you." Gang inched to the window and as he peeked out his face turned grim.

"It's a hunter team from the Folded Shadows. Must be at least six cultivators." He swallowed hard.

"And they've brought a horde of Memory Wraiths with them." Zhen's stomach clenched. He knew those wraiths. They were the obsidian nightmares he had fought when he first encountered Shuo.

"No wonder they found us. They have a tracker hound." Gang's voice dropped to a whisper, his knuckles white against the windowsill.

"Where did they get one of those? Those beasts cost a fortune." Unable to resist, Zhen peered past his father's shoulder. The dark was punctuated by pale lanterns held by black-robed figures. Their robes were made of a heavy, opaque fabric that rippled unnaturally with their movements. It drank the light rather than reflected it and the figures blurred into the night He recognized them. These were the same robes the dead cultivators wore on the road that first day.

The cultivators he had assumed were Shuo's fallen comrades. The pieces clicked into place with sickening clarity. Shuo hadn't been fighting alongside them. He had been fighting against them, and the Memory Wraiths, at the same time. That was why he had been so badly injured even before Zhen appeared.

"They were your enemies," Zhen murmured, turning to Shuo.

"That day on the road." Shuo nodded once without looking away from the scene outside.

"And now they've found what they were really looking for." The Memory Wraiths spread out around the house, their obsidian forms grinding through the air with that terrible shrieking sound. A woman stepped forward from the group of cultivators. Even in the dim light, Zhen could see her sharp cheekbones. Her hair was pulled back in a severe bun, and her eyes were like chips of black stone. Beside him, Shuo drew a sharp breath but said nothing.

Behind her, another black-robed cultivator struggled to control a straining beast on a leash. The creature resembled a large wolfhound, and its shoulder reached to the man's waist, but where eyes should have been, there was only smooth skin. Its oversized nose and muzzle twitched frantically in their direction.

"I am Guao Lau-Phu," the woman called, her voice carrying effortlessly through the night air.

"Congratulations. You've made it quite the hunt. You did well to hide for so long. But how could we miss that little light display last night?"

"Tie Gang, Tie Mei-Bao. We know you're there," she continued.

"When we saw the warning from the heavens, we came immediately." Her lips curved into a thin smile.

"That stupid turtle wouldn't allow us into the clearing, but we got close enough." She reached across to pat the frantic tracker hound, which was pulling hard against its leash as its handler visibly struggled.

"The boy is inside too. That's who we want." Mei-Bao's hand found Zhen's shoulder, her grip painfully tight.

"Offer him up," Lau-Phu's voice was cold as a mountain stream.

"In his benevolence, The Patriarch offers you a clean death. A mercy we all know you surrendered the moment you stole a treasure that doesn't belong to you." She swept her gaze across the house.

"You're surrounded. Overmatched. And you know it. Frankly, even if I were alone, I could take all of you without breaking a sweat." She sighed, flicking a speck of dust from her sleeve.

"Don't mistake patience for weakness. If you test that patience, you'll learn the true meaning of horror." Her calm tone sent ice through Zhen's veins. As far as Lau-Phu was concerned, she was simply stating a fact.

"You have five minutes before we come in. Make the right choice. Whatever you do, this ends the same way." Zhen looked at his parents, then at Shuo. The old man's face remained impassive, but his eyes glittered with calculation. Zhen stood.

"I'll go. It's clear that they want me for some reason." He gripped his hammers tighter.

"I'll delay them for a few moments to let you get away."

"Sit down and stop being a fool," Shuo sighed, motioning to Zhen's chair.

"No heroics." Zhen lowered himself back into his seat, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. Shuo surveyed the kitchen, his face grave.

"The Patriarch must be getting serious. Lau-Phu is a senior elder. I wasn't expecting her to have been sent out." A predatory smile touched his lips.

"But by the same token, she won't be expecting me." Zhen's heartbeat quickened. The casual confidence in Shuo's voice was both terrifying and reassuring.

"I can deal with Lau-Phu, but she will take all of my attention." Shuo's eyes hardened.

"If we're going to keep Zhen safe, no one lives to report back to the Order." Gang and Mei-Bao stood in perfect synchronization, their movements fluid and purposeful. Zhen barely recognized his parents in that moment. The blacksmith and his wife were gone, replaced by cold, determined warriors.

"We know what we need to do," Gang said, his voice deeper than usual. Zhen rose as well, swinging his hammers in tight circles to loosen his wrists. The weight felt good in his hands, grounding him against the rising tide of fear. Mei-Bao shook her head sharply.

"No. You stay in here and hide. You'll just get in the way." The words stung. Zhen opened his mouth to object but before he could speak, his father cut in.

"We can't afford not to have Zhen fight." Zhen stared at his father in surprise. Gang had never been one to encourage risk-taking.

"There are too many of them, and they're too powerful." Gang looked at Zhen, his eyes measuring.

"I've been watching him all day. He should be able to take on some of the weaker Memory Wraiths. As long as he stays away from the cultivators, he can ensure we're not surrounded when we fight." Mei-Bao's face tightened with displeasure, but she nodded reluctantly.

"Fight defensively when the Memory Wraiths get close." She walked over to Zhen and gripped him by the shoulders, her amber eyes intense.

"Don't engage with anything else. Do you understand me?"

"I understand," Zhen said, forcing his voice to remain steady. Outside, Chul's frantic neighing was abruptly cut off. The silence was worse.

"Good." Shuo moved to the door, his form straightening.

"Then let's give them something they won't expect." Gang gripped his sword with both hands, its blade catching the lamplight. Mei-Bao's long fans snapped fully open, revealing edges that glinted like razor wire. Zhen took a deep breath, reaching for the qi he could feel flowing through his newly opened spirit gate. It responded eagerly, coursing through him with surprising strength. Gang opened the door and stepped out with Mei-Bao close behind. Zhen followed them into the night and froze.

Memory Wraiths crowded the yard. Dozens of jagged obsidian forms ground through the air, their violet fracture lines pulsing in the darkness. The cultivators stood among them, their black robes seeming to swallow the lantern light. They radiated a cold menace that made his breath catch. His grip tightened on his hammers as the true extent of the danger they were facing sank in. Zhen activated The Eye of Xiezhi, and the world sharpened. Lines traced every target. Flaws and entry points.

Faults in the stances of a few of the cultivators revealed themselves, and brittle points of weakness ran through the Memory Wraiths' obsidian forms. He didn't need to be stronger than them. He just needed to hit the right spots. Whether it would be enough, he had no idea. But there were no other options. The hunt had found them. Now it was time to fight back.