Elizabeth Wilson
Stories
7
Chapters
4,267
Words
83.6 K
Comments
0
Reading
6 h, 58 m
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Silence. Absolute, deafening silence enveloped the Council of Elders chamber. The Core Disciple’s faces had already turned ashen, and Yao Shen had stopped trying to make sense of the chaotic, jumbled cloud of emotions enveloping them. Well of course, besides one exception. Shadow was sure to have heard of Yao Shen’s outlandish desires to unite the Azlak Plains under one banner, but her face remained impassive— not once had she asked a single question about his plans, from the beginning to the end.…-
94 •
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The ground floor of Silvani’s Heirloom was lavished with a display of wealth— peak core-formation artifacts with unconventional and bizarre effects rested behind crystal displays, affixed to the circular wall of the tower. A small lacquered wooden plaque rested below each display, with a brief note detailing the artifact’s effects. Naturally, they were not suitable for use in real combat, but it spoke to the Heavenly Sky Sect’s storied heritage that they could use peak core-formation artifacts as…
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94 •
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Yao Shen ascertained Shadow’s location via the thread of divine sense he had split off earlier, marking her position near the center of the inner sect. Even from this distance, the eight storey ivory tower that jutted into the skies was clearly visible to the naked eye, representing one of the landmarks of the Heavenly Sky Sect— Silveni’s Heirloom, a rather peculiar name for a majestic construct that served, partly, as the Patriarch’s residence. However, most disciples referred to it as ‘The…
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“Elder Han, Shadow, please go on ahead,” A small smile continued to rest on Yao Shen’s face as he withdrew a small, circular violet-blue token that was covered in a complex web of inscriptions, holding it out in Shadow’s direction. Shadow pocketed the token with a practiced ease, but did not immediately leave. Her gaze narrowed upon Zhou Hui with a scorching focus, memorizing every aspect, every detail of his visage before she turned her gaze to Yao Shen. They made eye contact, and Shadow…
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94 •
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“I suppose it is time to return, Elder Han,” Yao Shen clasped his hands behind his back and sighed. They had reached the end of the outer exchange, and unsurprisingly no further stall could truly attract his attention. He could feign interest in poorly forged swords, weak spiritual herbs and supposedly ‘rare ores’ peddled by the more daring disciples, but a single sweep of his Divine Sense had already indicated that there was nothing that could hold his interest. “Shall we go by foot?” Elder…
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94 •
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Yao Shen’s mouth twitched slightly, as he accepted the new spoon Shadow had procured for him without comment. The light golden soup awaited him, imbued with nothing but the lowest ranking of herbs, a few mortal spices and a dash of finely chopped vegetables, soaking in and adding depth to the flavor. He savored the mouthful of soup, a contented expression forming on his face. The soup was no more than the sum of its parts, and Yao Shen was a man who had sampled many delicacies across his two hundred…
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94 •
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He did not need his Divine Sense to detect the presence of cultivators ahead as a Human Dao practitioner, but all that was visible to the naked eye was the lush planes stretching out into the distance, light azure clouds overlooking the grassy lands. What would once struck him as mundane now seemed peaceful, making Yao Shen wonder just how much his past life’s memories had managed to impact his personality in such a short period of time. Well, the term ‘Human Dao Practitioner’ was both accurate,…
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94 •
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Yao Shen effortlessly flew through the sky, his speed purposely limited to allow Elder Han to keep pace with himself. His mood was complex— five parts ponderous, three parts melancholic and two parts uncertain. The path he had set the Heavenly Sky Sect on could not be reversed, or his weight as the leader, the Patriarch, would no longer have any meaning. Edicts once issued, could no longer be reversed nearly as easily. It was not a matter of martial strength, but of prestige, of face— even a cultivator…
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The rolling plains stretched out into the distance, vibrant green tall grass susurrating under the presence of a strong gust of wind. Only two men remained standing on a patch of blackened, scorched earth, the grass long having vaporized under the fury of heavenly lightning— Elder Han and Yao Shen. “P-Patriarch… no, Grand Patriarch, was there really such an agreement between our sects?” The aged man’s expression was one of disbelief, his azure robes bearing the insignia of the Heavenly Sky…
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Yao Shen walked forward towards the congregation of viewers, largely from his own sect by this point, with the two Patriarchs in tow– much to the shock of the onlookers, who could not understand what exactly was happening. There was still a small group of about forty to fifty disciples from the two rival sects that courageously, or perhaps stupidly, depending on one's perspective, stood their ground- their weapons drawn. A trickle of red and brown in a sea of azure robes, knowing that they would meet…
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