Chương 53: Grasshoppers

Rowan"Here, your organs are damaged. I'll help you back." Lee tried to hoist Rowan onto his back. His knees buckled immediately and they went down together. Rowan groaned as agony pulsed sharply through his body. The adrenaline had quieted, and in its place, pain.

"Oof. Hey, maybe think about laying off the sweet cream buns. You weigh more than I do!" complained Lee. Rowan grunted as Lee slid him over his back again, trudging forward. Disciples in batches of yellows and purples watched them from the sides of the road, like useless, beautiful flowers. They pointed at the heavily damaged ground, the ripples of earth around Fross's dead body. When Lee took a step forward, the disciples backed away, spooked, as though Rowan's sword might fly at them and start razing them down.

Princess Feathertail slithered behind Rowan and Lee.

"Good thing you followed my cues, Assistant Helsing. Winning would have been impossible otherwise!"

"Thanks, Princess," Rowan groaned, too tired to argue.

"Where's my onion bulb?"

"Junior Sister Fang is missing," said Lee.

"But she goes missing every few days and turns up again."

"Probably eating something." Lee's steps faltered.

"Wow. You are really heavy…" Uxia's voice whispered behind them primly.

"Allow me to help, Mister Lothesby. My cultivation is a bit more advanced." She came up next to Lee and transferred half of Rowan's weight onto her back. She then promptly collapsed under the weight, gasping.

"Goodness…" Rowan was a little embarrassed now.

"I didn't think I was that–" Uxia frowned.

"This is definitely not normal," she said, putting him down. She immediately grabbed a fistful of Lee's robes and lifted him an inch off the ground with one hand.

"See?"

"Hey!" Lee protested, flailing. She dropped him, and he landed on his butt.

"Everyone is useless." Mikael had appeared behind Uxia. He hoisted Rowan onto his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

"My apologies, little Fairy. We'll get this cavorter on the best diet Righteous Mountain has to offer."

"Hey!" Rowan echoed, as Mikael bounded through the air, hopping up onto the rooftops. Zarian and Izar waved at Rowan merrily as Mikael jumped past them.

"You weigh as much as a mountain," said Mikael, as they flitted from rooftop to rooftop.

"In fact, that would be a good description for what happened there. What possessed you to take a Dao Mark onto yourself?"

"Dao Mark?" Rowan murmured. He looked inside of his Qi Sea, seeing only the Mark of Suppression and the Mark of Containment. Then, he peered a bit closer, and saw the shadow of a third Dao Mark, something barely legible. He wouldn't have noticed it if Mikael hadn't said anything.

"How did I get a Dao Mark?" he wondered aloud. After all, his two Dao Marks had come from a Nascent Soul level formation. Barrett Fross might have practiced a powerful scripture, but he was still in Qi Condensation. Where would the Dao Mark have come from?

"This is the secret that gives the Vast Mountain Sealing Technique its great power, especially so early on," explained Mikael.

"As soon as you learn it, it forces a Dao Mark into you - whether you are ready for it, or not."

"Is that why all the Frosses go crazy?"

"They're not all crazy." There was something in Mikael's voice that Rowan could not name, like the string of a guqin strung a notch too tight.

"For example, Baudelain Fross has complete control over his mental faculties." Rowan let out a dry chuckle. It hurt his ribs.

"Think he'll want to kill me? Barrett was a piece of work, but he was still his nephew." Mikael considered his words silently.

"I wouldn't disregard the idea." The ominous words sent a shiver up Rowan's spine. Baudelain was… nice. Rowan had a better impression of him than most of Righteous Mountain's upper class. He hoped the outcome of the duel wouldn't impact Baudelain's plans for the charity in Rowan's name. Though, he would be unsurprised if it did.

"I don't even practice Earth techniques," muttered Rowan.

"Now that I have this Dao Mark, I'll probably go crazier than normal."

"I would assume not, because you seem to have acquired other ones without much harm. From your training with your aunt, of course," Mikael said lightly.

"You find that suspicious," said Rowan.

"Iris Helsing, known cultivator of Water techniques, gave you two Earthbound Dao Marks? Why would that be suspicious? I would give you techniques I have no use for as well." Rowan huffed.

"Well, where else would I have gotten them?" They were quiet as Mikael continued to scale up the mountain, the trees flying by them.

"Your buddhist artifact… is quite powerful," commented Mikael at last. What else could he have been speaking of but the rosary?

"Yes. I'm lucky it chose me."

"It chose you?" Mikael asked. He didn't sound too pleased.

"Artifacts like that generally don't choose someone unless they're promised something. Whatever it was, I hope it won't cause problems for you."

"I don't think it will." Rowan didn't want to talk of the rosary anymore, so he changed the subject.

"Will this new Dao Mark affect my cultivation?"

"Definitely." Mikael sighed.

"Negatively, no doubt. But if you can manage despite it… you'll be stronger for it." Mikael didn't take him to the Jewelbox Pavilion, but to a small cave hidden under a shelf of rock. The interior was dark until he walked about fifteen feet inside, where suddenly the atmosphere began to lighten. The corridor opened into a larger, circular area. A small spirit spring snaked through the cave, pure white and glowing, releasing a refreshing fragrance similar to that of spirit stones.

This must be the core disciple's qi cave.

"Cultivate here for a while," said Mikael, setting him down.

"If you have any merits, I can trade them in to the Medicine Hall for healing pills." As a teacher, wasn't the man supposed to provide healing pills? What a scam.

"I don't have many merits." The man eyed him with consideration.

"Fine," he said at last.

"I'll buy them for you, but you'll owe me 800 merits." Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Eight hundred was three hundred more than the reward for slaying the Mountain Hydra (contact Elder Schell for more information)!

"Didn't you say that we would drain your spirit spring if we used it?" Mikael sighed again.

"I'm trying to do you a favor, Rowan." The core disciple left Rowan to cycle his qi. Rowan wondered why Mikael hadn't taken him straight there. Maybe he didn't want others to know about his new Dao Mark? Or, the more likely theory, he was worried someone would sneak into his room to take revenge on him for killing Barrett Fross. Fross had been an inner disciple, after all. He surely had many friends and acquaintances.

"I don't think I've seen a Qi Condensation youngster with three Dao Marks in a while," mused Ostra.

"Certainly not since I landed in this peninsula." Rowan's heart sank when he heard Ostra's voice. Usually the man only spoke up in dire situations.

"Am I doomed, Senior?"

"Dao Marks aren't toys for children to collect. Each one is serious. More powerful cultivators can even disrupt their enemy's path by forcing Dao Marks onto them. Previously, your body was in a delicate balance - your two Earth Dao Marks were held in check by your Flood Dragon Water Essence, Forgegod Spirit Root, and Bloodwood lineage. And in turn, the Dao Marks kept the other components together, binding them into form. This third Dao Mark, though really, it's just the imprint of one, is tipping that scale."

Ostra paused.

"Above all, the Dao is about balance. The Yin and the Yang, the Bright and the Fading, the Lesser and the Greater. Spiritual weight leads to physical accomplishments, conceptual fatigue leads to corporeal dissolution. You must find a way to counterbalance your new Dao Mark to stabilize it. Otherwise, insanity will be the least of your worries." Rowan nodded.

"Balance the Dao Mark. Got it." As though Dao Marks grew on trees. As though he could buy them at the Lothesby Auction House. This area of cultivation was leagues beyond him. He couldn't even rely on people like Mikael, Senior Sister Nila, and his sect elders. The Dao Mark was known to be the cornerstone of Foundation Establishment. Potentially Ostra was the only person who could give him real advice on them, if he were so inclined to part with it.

Rowan let out a muffled groan as he tried to get into a comfortable position to meditate. Every small twitch of movement felt like knives scoring his bones. The Vast Sealing Mountain Sutra deserved its reputation as a premier technique. He closed his eyelids and entered a meditative state, cycling his qi through his meridians and apertures, assessing the damage. It was even worse than he thought. Multiple organs, collapsed. Most of his bones, fractured. His skin was just a bag keeping a jumble of viscera in place.

He hissed out a breath and focused his qi on the worst injury. Many minutes passed like this. Rowan's eyes snapped open when felt a new presence in the qi cave. After breaking through to the third layer, his senses had become even sharper. In the past, he might not have even noticed the intruder, as their footsteps and breathing were silent. The presence was a bit cold. He turned his head to look in their direction. Senior Sister Verrine was sipping on her pipe, white smoke curling from her nostrils.

The pure light of the spirit stream filtered through the pale haze, glinting and sparkling. She was wearing her usual favorite teal robes and a serene smile. He noticed, for the first time, that the shredded leaves in the bowl at the end of the slender jade pipe were actually unburnt. The smoke was coming from within her.

"Mikael was called to deal with a matter. He asked me to deliver these to you." The woman tossed a small sachet of pills at Rowan's head. He caught it effortlessly, and dug one out. The round pill was the size of his fingernail and blue in color. They didn't emit a fragrance, but hummed subtly with cold-feeling qi. They were soft enough that the contact with his hand changed their shape.

"This is a Spare Parasol Pill, a primary formula of our sect's Water Dream Scripture. Most of our healing pills are of the Water path. Luckily, your Wood nature should be compatible with them!"

"Thank you, Senior Sister," he said, giving her a weak smile.

"Would I be out of luck if I was a Fire cultivator?"

"No. But the goods might cost more than 800 merits. The longer the pill ages, the more potent it becomes. An umbrella bought on a sunny day keeps you dry when unexpected rain comes. These have been waiting for a few years. A Fire cultivator might require a pill made more than a decade ago for a similar effect." Rowan chuckled a little. Then, he threw back his head and swallowed the pills, cycling his qi in the rhythm of Waking Spring Breath to maximize their efficacy.

A chill washed over him, as though he had just jumped into a cold river. Due to his Wood nature, he was already quick to heal, so the wounds on the outside of his body had already closed. But with the help of the pills, the deep, sharp ache inside of him abated as his organs began to repair themselves. He let out a small sigh of relief.

"Even if you don't cultivate the Water Dream, the pill teaches a valuable lesson. It's always good to have a plan for bad weather." Rowan nodded. He'd expected her to leave after delivering the pills but she continued to stare at him speculatively.

"But perhaps you need this lesson the least out of our new disciples," she finally said.

"It's not every day that a cultivator defeats an opponent of a higher rank. And you've done so twice now. Barrett Fross was the product of much time spent and many resources used." Inner disciples were awarded a dispensation of two qi pills a week, every week, from the Inner Sanctum. They weren't of great quality, but that was still nearly a spirit stone's worth of value a month. The pills were made with herbs picked from terraced gardens on the mountain by the small handful of disciples who practiced alchemy.

Years and years of hard work had gone into Fross's cultivation.

"Is there going to be trouble?" Rowan asked.

"Likely," she said, softly, "but not from the sect. It is not a crime to accept a duel, even if it ends in the death of an inner disciple. But, unfortunately, I bear bad news if you were expecting another parade." She gave him a tight smile in an attempt to lighten the mood, but there was no humor in her eyes.

"If trouble finds you, it won't be on this side of the Eastern Gate." A puff of smoke.

"Past that, though…" she trailed off.

"At the moment, the city is more dangerous than usual."

"And usually it's quite dangerous," Rowan returned.

"Especially for mortals."

"The Dao Court only moves in haste to claim credit, if they move at all. And when it does, unwelcome outcomes are plentiful."

"Then why didn't the sect do anything?" Rowan asked, beseechingly.

"The orphans…" Verrine leaned against the side of the cave, her arms crossed and her eyes half-lidded. She didn't speak for a long time before taking a delicate sip of her pipe.

"Do you ever get the feeling that things are more complicated than they seem?" An idle thought. An explanation. Rowan clenched his fists. Suddenly, he thought of the senior disciple in the Lower Library, casually informing him about the black market, about how the sect itself got first pick of the confiscated contraband. Clodde Bastin's disdainful remark about the habits of "righteous" cultivators. Dalia's reaction. His whisper was sharp, furious, like the jet black snakes hissing warnings outside of Bastin's barn.

"Are we involved in this?" Verrine shot him a reproachful look.

"Do watch your tongue, Mister Helsing. There are people around with ears much sharper than yours that would find offense with that accusation, myself included." She took another sip of her pipe, but she seemed more agitated now, less calm and collected.

"The Dao Court had taken control over the Highwater affair. If the sect had stepped in, the magistrate might have brought in more members from the imperial capital, as he is always threatening to do. I wonder, Mister Helsing, what the nosy insects from Where Rivers Meet might find in Righteous Mountain City?" What was she referring to? The matter of the Lieren Nostraga, as Elder Schell had warned him about? Before he could open his mouth, she continued.

"The answer is anything. If they wish to find something wrong, they will. You'll find that the faint annoyance of the buzzing grasshopper in our garden becoming a swarm of hungry locusts. Is the unexpected drought not enough of a disaster?"

"What about the Earthly Harmony Alliance? Can't we ask them for support?" The haze in the dark cave grew thicker, more opaque. Verrine was a slip of teal in the smoke, her dark eyes glittering. The smoke became almost physical, like ribbons of white silk, before suddenly, the moment broke and the haze dissipated. In the end, she only said, "It was foolish of you to confront Magistrate Cyrille. Think of the master before you kick the dog.

The magistrate may only be in the second layer of Qi Condensation, but so were you only a few hours ago. No one on this peninsula can protect you from the throne, let alone the Silk Witch." She clicked her tongue.

"The mountains are tall and the Emperor is far, but it is still foolish to attract his eye." Rowan looked down, his face shadowed.

"So many people have gone missing. At least tell me the sect is investigating."

"Earlier, when you informed me about this, I told you that I would look into it. I still am. You should focus on your cultivation and leave this to the sect. If you wish to brave the storm, it's best to find an umbrella while you still can." Those words hit him like a charging bull. They were so similar to what the pancake vendor had told him in his vision. Leave mortal concerns behind. Cultivate. Even back then, he hadn't hesitated in his refusal. His conviction was even stronger now.

His will to help the people of his home. To kill any demonic cultivator, to sink to any depths. The rosary bead had accepted him as worthy. His mother's rosary. Leave things to the sect? To the Dao Court? Just as Verrine had said, things were complicated and they feared stepping on each other's toes. Rowan didn't.