Chương 464: Death (I)

A journey of a thousand miles begins with a simple step, as it were. And that step, for us, was descending the mountain. It was quite some ways steeper and taller than I originally thought. Okay, it was a lot steeper and taller. As only its topmost point, which stood at seemingly over twenty thousand feet, was brutally naked, it wasn't a straight descent to the bottom. Coming off the barren top, a tall and thick forest sprawled, and the mountain itself widened like a growing belly.

Though the slope grew gentler, it wasn't by much; we still had to zig-zag on our way down, similarly to how it was climbing Heavenly Void Range. We also started coming across some demonic beasts, but the kids took care of them all while I remained mostly in charge of cooking. We'd travel in intervals of about six hours and then rest for two, sometimes three or four if the dinner was particularly hefty.

From ordinary meals, as we hunted the animals, I started being a bit more creative as I'd stuff a whole shitload of spices and spice-adjacent crap into my ring, swearing to never run out of it. And, as the meals grew more tasty, the kids' lips grew more loose. By now, they'd all practically told me their fears, hopes, and dreams, and... well, they were kind of par for the course, truth be told. Some wanted to excel to prove to the world they were worthy; others had families they wanted to make proud.

Some yet had grievances they had to correct. It was something I'd thought about a lot even back on Earth, just how seemingly untrained a mind is about understanding the sheer vastness of life. All these kids here... they all had life stories, the likes of which could fill up dozens of books. They had struggles, dreams, thoughts, beliefs, flaws, and all other things that made them human. Just as I did. But...

I, and I'd like to believe others for the sake of my own sanity, get so wrapped up in the reality of me, in my life, in my struggles, that I--no, not forget, that's not the right word... but more so that my mind purposefully ignores the reality that it's the same for everyone else. We afford the courtesy to those we love and to those close to us, but everyone else gets shuffled into the background.

And even though I always knew everyone led their lives wholly independent of mine, mind almost adjusts, akin to tethering you to a very small fragment of the whole reality. We came to a stop yet again, having gotten--according to the kids--about halfway down the mountain. We were to travel north all the way, as that was where, supposedly, the Great Tortoise lived. It was all very far-fetched, but they did know there was a tortoise here and that this place has nothing to do with a phoenix.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. What they didn't seem to know that this whole thing is a trap, one set up so that everyone who entered would never leave. Speaking of never leaving...... that shadow is still with us. Thanks to Eternity, who seemed to be playing the role of a fourth-grader taking the piss out of everything, I always knew where the shadow was.

Right now, for instance, they were seated atop a rather thin branch northwest of us, balancing rather perfectly on their heels. How did I know they were there? Because Eternity was the branch. Well, technically, it was a snake coiled into the shape of a branch. Not the perfectly camouflaged type, either; it was as red as blood, with eyes so dark they were like two black holes swallowing the light.

Its scales glowed even in the dark, like embers of a flame, and it further reinforced the notion that it wasn't merely 'hidden'. Though it did seem desperate to vie for attention, the truth was that it also seemed incapable of grasping it, as though it had free will yet predetermined choices. A paradox, one that I cannot even begin to unravel.

"Senior, have you ever been in love?"

"... h-huh?" one of the kids suddenly sprung it on me as we were dining. They all suddenly looked at me, some more intensely than others, and I was temporarily stumped. I mean, yea, sure, they were kids... but they were cultivators, too. Does it straight up just not matter?

"Why do you ask? Are you in love?"

"N-no, no! But... I heard some of my Senior Sisters speak about it," said the girl, fidgeting in place.

"How finding a Dao Companion is akin to being reborn. And falling in love with them is akin to ascending. Is it true?"

"... it can be," I said.

"Aren't you a bit too young to be thinking about a Dao Companion, though? Aren't you all, in fact?"

"Why? When did you find yours?" They seemed to pull forward a bit, and I realized that, if I got dragged into this, it would not end any time soon. And as much as I liked these kids' company, I wasn't gonna bare my soul to them anytime soon, I don't think.

"This isn't the sort of thing you talk about with a stranger," I said.

"All I'll say is... when it happens, you'll know. Enough now. Eat your food." We finished, and after an hour or so during which they held a rather hushed conversation that wasn't hushed enough, they were fully convinced that the reason I refused to talk about it was that I was refused when I proposed becoming a Dao Companion with someone and that the heartache still sears hot and painful.

I didn't protest, as it wasn't entirely wrong, merely snickering at the thought of how teenagers will seemingly always be teenagers, one way or another. We got up and left soon after, spending the next three full days trekking downwards, finally emerging from the mountain and into a vast land of... nothing. It wasn't a desert--it was just a land of no life, with jutting rocks and stones and plateaus decorating the horizon, dry and cracked.

The sky changed from azure blue to ashen gray, and Qi itself became almost twice as heavy and practically indigestible.

"Wow," I exclaimed.

"If you guys wanted to bury me where nobody will ever find me, you certainly picked the right place."

"E-eh? No, no--it's, it's not supposed to be this way!" Duo Xin exclaimed, the tone of her voice rather apologetic.

"Seniors... they said that the north of the north is a paradise. That there are legendary trees and herbs and beasts roaming everywhere and that the Qi is so dense it becomes corporeal. But this is..."

"Full of Death Qi," I said. I'd felt it before, but only in trace amounts--this here, however... it was overwhelming. Repugnant, even. There was no trace of any kind of life, and yet, I felt it. In my gut, of all things. There were things here, roaming the dry bedrock, awash with death like a morning flower with dew. And they felt us, like a dying man wandering the desert who saw an oasis for the first time. A hunger that swallows.