Chương 121: Complications

The second round of the Grand Formation Summit ended at sundown. Leo and his team walked back to their guest quarters in silence, saving the celebration for when they were alone. The moment the door closed behind them, everyone started talking at once.

"Oh my God." Thad dropped into the nearest chair and threw his head back.

"Did you see them? It looked like we threw an egg on their face!" Silver platters from breakfast had been cleared away, replaced with water and fresh fruit. Everyone was talking over each other, pulling out chairs, crowding around the low table.

"They were furious," Thad grinned.

"The Grey Cult captain looked like he wanted to crawl under the table. And the Hollow Cult? They didn't even submit a solution. Just sat there. Staring." Leo rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah, well. Each team had twelve hours to work on the problems. By hour four, all three cults had figured out they weren't scoring any points. They spent the remaining eight hours glaring at me." He sank into his chair.

"Why do I always get blamed for everything? I feel like I just made eighteen new enemies today."

"Twenty-one," Mateo said from his end of the table.

"The chaperones beside me were not happy either." Leo glared at him. Thad was already on his feet.

"I'm ordering champagne. This place has room service, right? How hard can it be?"

"Wait." Liyang's voice cut through. He held up one hand.

"Don't start celebrating too early." The room quieted. Liyang stood and pulled his notebook from his jacket, flipping to a page covered in numbers and brackets.

"Keep in mind we are facing a bunch of cheaters. Yes, we stumped the cults today. But each team can still earn a maximum of four points. Meanwhile, we can't derive forbidden formations, so we can only score a maximum of three points ourselves." He looked at each of them in turn.

"The Hollow Cult presents tomorrow. If the Weaver Cult gets both formation questions right, they'll have four points total. We'll have two." He set the notebook down.

"We're still behind." The giddiness drained out of the room. They had won the battle today. The war was a different matter. Vivian stood up.

"I've been working on something for the Weaver Cult's round." She adjusted her blazer and gave Leo a look. Leo knew what she meant. Over the past few months, before the competition, she had spent time in the Azure Profound Continent studying basic karma formations with Shen Tianyi. Vivian had been quiet about her progress, but the look in her eyes told him she'd found something.

"I asked Seraphindë where the library was," Vivian said.

"She granted me access to the official archives at the main branch. I'm going to check it out." She gathered her notes and left without waiting for a response. The door clicked shut behind her. The room was quiet for a moment. Danyl leaned toward Leo and whispered.

"Do you think we should be doing stuff too?" Thad shrugged. He reached under the table and produced a set of crystal wine flutes from somewhere, lining them up on the dark wood.

"We shouldn't think so hard. We should enjoy ourselves. If we win, we win. If we lose, we lose. Either way, we have something to be proud of when we go home." Everyone nodded. Even Liyang, after a moment. Thad walked over to the communication talisman mounted on the wall beside the door. He pressed his palm to it and spoke a few words in Gothic. The sparkling wine arrived within minutes, carried by a grey-robed attendant who set two chilled bottles on the table without expression.

The first cork hit the ceiling with a satisfying pop. Thad poured generous glasses for everyone, and the conversation loosened. For a few minutes, they were just kids who had done something extraordinary. Then Leo felt it. He held up a hand.

"Quiet." The laughter died, smiles fading as everyone turned to look at him. Something far away, like a distant shadow creeping at the edges of his consciousness. He couldn't point to it, couldn't name it. His body knew before his mind did, an instinctive recoil from something unseen. He pushed his Omnidirectional Awareness outward, stretching his divine sense toward the eastern districts, trying to find the source of his unease. Nothing. Whatever he was feeling was beyond his range.

"Does anyone else feel that?" Mateo went still for a moment. Then his grey eyes shifted toward the eastern wall. The same direction Leo was looking.

"Yes," Mateo said. Ella turned in her chair, the violet of her eyes deepening as she reached for her ortho-k enhanced vision.

"Stop." Leo's voice came out sharper than he intended.

"No enhanced vision. Nobody look at it." She froze, her eyes returning to normal. A flicker of fear crossed her face. Leo identified the feeling. The same reflexive clench, like someone pulling him back from a ledge. He had felt it once before, standing in the wheat field, staring at the churning black air around Monarch Scatterstraw. That had been Slaughter Qi. Centuries of accumulated murder given form and weight, a miasma of death and suffering. This felt the same. Distant and diluted, but the same.

Like poison seeping into the air, tainting his every breath. Then the feeling exploded. It hit all of them at once, a tidal wave of wrongness that crashed over the room and saturated the air. Something primal and malevolent. Leo's stomach clenched, his skin crawling with revulsion. In the distance, spiritual signatures flared to life. Nascent Soul Lords erupted across the city like signal fires, one after another. Then the crushing weight of Deity Transformation Monarchs.

Their presence settled over everything like a suffocating blanket. Even from their guest quarters, the meaning was clear. Something had gone very wrong. Ella whispered.

"That's the direction of the Weaver Cult's quarters." Leo was already moving. Moonrider slid from his dantian into his hand, the flying sword humming with restrained power.

"I need to get Vivian." He turned toward the door and stopped. Liyang hands clenched the edge of the table, knuckles bloodless. Danyl sat rigid beside him, eyes wide. Neither of them had ever felt anything like this before. Neither of them had ever tasted combat. Mateo stood. His greatspear materialized in his right hand, the weapon's length spanning half the common room. The casual warmth was gone from his face.

"Go," Mateo said.

"We'll protect the team." Thad pulled his flying sword from his dantian and nodded.

"I tracked Vivian's spiritual signature when she left. She went west." Leo met his eyes.

"Thank you." He turned and launched himself through the door and into the cool evening air. His flying sword carried him up and away from the guest quarters. Behind him, spiritual pressure radiated outward in concentric waves as Nascent Soul Lords fought an unknown enemy in the distance. Amidst the chaos, the Deity Transformation Monarchs erupted into action, their power dwarfing everything else. Shockwaves from their attacks tore through the air, making Leo flinch even from afar.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Leo pushed his divine sense outward, searching for any hint of Vivian's unique spiritual signature. In the streets below, citizens scattered like leaves before a storm. Mothers scooped up terrified children and sprinted for shelter. City guards, faces pale, melted back into towers and garrisons. Within moments, the brick roads were deserted, an eerie emptiness settling over Ashviel.

Alarm bells began to ring, a discordant clamor rising from the towers and spires. Formation barriers activated across entire districts. Shimmering walls of grey light sealed off streets and bridges one after another. There. A flicker at the edge of his perception, faint but unmistakable. He recognized the pattern immediately. It was Vivian. Over the past few months, Leo had worked on countless formations with her. Somewhere along the way, he had memorized her divine sense and knew instantly it was her.

Her divine sense was fluctuating in rapid, unsteady pulses that spiked and contracted. She was running through the streets at a sprint. Then it stuttered and dropped sharply. She had tripped. Leo poured qi into Moonrider and accelerated. The buildings blurred beneath him. He banked hard around a cathedral spire, cutting through the gap between two formation barriers before they finished closing. Vivian's signal grew stronger. Closer. He could feel the terror in it now, sharp and bright.

He found her on a narrow street where a formation barrier had slammed down across her path. She was on the ground in front of it, one knee scraped, her notes scattered across the cobblestones. She was trying to gather them with shaking hands. Leo dropped out of the sky and landed beside her. Moonrider vanished into his dantian. He knelt and grabbed her shoulders.

"It's okay. I'm here. We're going back." Vivian looked up at him. Her eyes were wide, her lips pressed into a thin line. A scrape on her palm was bleeding.

"Leo." Her voice came out steady. The rest of her did not match it.

"What's happening?"

"I don't know yet. But we need to move." He scooped up the notes she'd dropped, shoved them into her arms, and lifted her off the ground. One arm under her knees, the other around her back. Vivian made a startled sound but didn't resist.

"Hold on." She grabbed his neck. They shot upward, and by the time they cleared the rooftops, the worst had passed. The Deity Transformation signatures were pulling back. The alarm bells stuttered and went silent, one tower at a time. Below them, formation barriers flickered and withdrew into the stone, reopening the streets. Vivian's trembling stopped. Her grip around his neck loosened, but she didn't let go. Her breathing steadied against his chest. Leo barely registered any of it.

He'd signed up for a formation competition. He was starting to wonder what he'd actually gotten.

Leo landed in the common room with Vivian still in his arms. By the window, Mateo and Thad stood shoulder to shoulder, heads bent over a communication talisman that pulsed with soft grey light. Something about their posture made Leo grow concerned. Ella was on her feet immediately, Liyang and Danyl half a step behind her.

"Is she hurt?" Ella asked. Vivian shook her head.

"I'm fine. I scraped my knee and my palm, but it wasn't that bad. Just got caught behind a barrier."

"Okay, great." Leo crossed the room in three strides, set her down on the sofa like a sack of potatoes, and kept moving.

"What's that?" On the sofa, Vivian smoothed her windblown hair and adjusted her rumpled clothing. She stared at Leo's retreating back for a long moment, then looked away, pressing her lips together. Ella, seated in the armchair beside her, noticed. She sighed softly and shook her head, a sympathetic look in her eyes. Vivian met Ella's gaze and smiled ruefully, shrugging her shoulders. By the window, Mateo held the talisman flat on his palm, scanning the characters etched across its surface with his divine sense.

Thad leaned over his shoulder, sword still drawn. He glanced up when Leo approached, gave him a short nod, and slid the blade back into his dantian.

"Official notice," Mateo said. He tilted the talisman so Leo could read it.

"It arrived about a minute ago." Leo took it from him and pressed his divine sense into the jade. The disturbance in the eastern district has been resolved. All delegations are instructed to remain within their assigned quarters until further notice. The third round of the Grand Formation Summit will be delayed. One member of the Weaver Cult delegation has sustained injuries and will be unable to compete. Leo read the word injuries, but his mind filled in what was unsaid. Corruption.

Seraphindë's explanation echoed in his mind, but he didn't know what to think about it. He didn't know what a demon was or how to fight it. What he wanted, more than anything, was to talk to Shen Tianyi. But there was no way to access the Azure Profound Continent from Ashveil. He was on his own.

"I don't know what to make of this. Is there anyone here we can actually talk to? Someone who will tell us what's going on?"

"What about your little girlfriend?" Thad said. Leo looked up.

"Sariya." Thad dropped into a chair.

"She's the captain of the Weaver Cult's team. If one of her teammates just got hit, she'll know what really happened." He paused.

"Unless she's the one who got 'injured.' Then I guess we're back to square one."

"I wouldn't rely on her." Ella's voice came from the sofa.

"Ella..."

"I'm serious, Leo." She set the notes in her lap and met his eyes.

"You don't become captain of the Weaver Cult's formation team by collecting bottlecaps. Even Seraphindë would find their internal politics exhausting." She folded her hands.

"Think about it. Seraphindë arranges a private meeting between you and Sariya. Sariya tells you about the Slaughter Qi infection, frames it as a conspiracy, and positions the Weaver Cult as the faction that raised the alarm. She feeds you just enough to make you feel like you're on the inside. Then the very thing she warned you about happens, and suddenly Sariya Moirath is the only person in this city you feel you can trust." Ella tilted her head.

"That sequence of events is too suspicious. I'm sure you can see why that concerns me." Leo wanted to argue. Sariya had seemed genuine. But Ella had grown up inside the Oblivion Cult. She had navigated cult intrigue since before she could walk. If anyone in this room understood how powerful factions manipulated their pawns, it was her. And there was another thread he had been ignoring. Seraphindë had been uncharacteristically helpful in arranging that meeting.

She had aimed Leo at the Weaver Cult captain and stepped back to watch what happened. At the time, he had thought it was a simple redirect. But what if it was more deliberate than that? What if Seraphindë was a magician performing a force, the card trick where every choice feels free but the outcome is predetermined? What if Sariya was the one who wanted a meeting, and Seraphindë was happy to introduce Leo to her? Leo exhaled through his teeth.

"I hear you. I don't want to count out Sariya, but you're right that we can't assume anyone outside this room is clean." He tapped the talisman on the table.

"Which brings us to the real problem. If the competition continues, and it will, because these cults didn't drag us underground to cancel their summit over one casualty, we need to figure out security." He looked at Mateo. Think about it. If something happens again, who do we call? The Grey Cult guards standing outside our door? The same Grey Cult that can't even find the source of the corruption? Mateo nodded.

"I'll reach out to the American embassy. If we have a diplomatic presence in Ashviel, now is the time to use it."

Their answer arrived the next morning. Leo opened the front door to find a man in a charcoal suit standing in the corridor, flanked by two Gold Core Grey Cult guards who looked uncomfortable with how close he was standing to them. He was broad-shouldered and imposing, with a carefully trimmed beard and piercing eyes that seemed to take in every detail of the room.

"Captain Chen." He extended a hand.

"Lord Perdue. United States Ambassador to the Grey Cult." Leo shook his hand and stepped aside. Perdue strode into the common room, brazenly sweeping the space with his Nascent Soul domain before settling into the chair at the head of the table, not bothering to ask for permission. Such an invasive use of a Nascent Soul domain indoors would normally be considered rude, but given the gravity of the situation, no one challenged it. Everyone understood what was at stake. Leo sat across from the ambassador.

"Is the competition canceled?"

"The Grey Cult cannot afford the loss of face. Cancellation would imply they've lost control of their own city. That is a concession they will never make, and frankly, one we shouldn't want them to make. A Grey Cult that feels humiliated is far more dangerous than a Grey Cult managing a crisis." He let that settle.

"Now. The Grey Cult has already contacted New York Command. They want replacement competitors sent over immediately." Thad's voice cut across the room.

"They're sending Natasha, Arjun, and Junhyun? We barely practiced with them. Everyone here is irreplaceable. We can't just suddenly be okay with three substitutes." Perdue just looked at him. Leo's stomach dropped.

"Six substitutes?"

"A full replacement roster. One backup for each of you." Perdue's tone was matter-of-fact.

"The cults want warm bodies ready in case more competitors are... injured." The room went cold. Somewhere out there, a kid Leo had never met was packing a bag, ready to sit in his chair if he couldn't.

"The Grey Cult thinks we're disposable," Leo said.

"Qi Refiners grow on trees. A tradition older than the American government does not." Perdue straightened his cuffs.

"Which brings me to why I'm here." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded stack of paper.

"Once it became clear that chaperones would be permitted inside the competition venue, the CIA contacted Kevin immediately. He passed a message to a mutual friend of yours." Leo picked up the papers. Although it was typed out, the voice and tone jumped out at him immediately. It was a message from Shen Tianyi. His throat tightened.

He turned a few pages and found dense formation theory, annotations in red ink, and diagrams of karma thread structures he had never seen before, all accompanied by step-by-step derivation notes written specifically for his level of understanding. Tianyi had written him a textbook overnight. Perdue watched him.

"If you need time to study that material before the competition resumes, we can push for a delay." Leo handed Vivian the papers. For a moment he considered it. Taking the extra days. Absorbing everything Shen Tianyi had sent. Walking into the Pavilion with new techniques, new understanding, a real chance at solving whatever forbidden formation the Weaver Cult threw at them.

But every extra day spent in this city was another opportunity for something to go wrong, another chance for someone on his team to end up like the competitor who had 'sustained injuries'.

"No," Leo said.

"We compete on schedule." Perdue raised an eyebrow.

"If we lose, we lose. Besides, the longer we stay here, the higher the chance Mateo starts thinking one of his cousins is cute."