Chapter 104: Now and Forever [Interlude]

Lianshi opened her eyes.

The cave was gone. Instead, a wide valley with blue skies greeted her.

Blue skies, she thought with a shock. Where was the green? Where were the auroral Jade Clouds?

She looked away and observed the rest of her baffling environment. The air was fragrant and sweet, heavy with the intoxicating scent of ripe meat. Lianshi saw the shapes of ‘peaches’ — fleshy human hearts hanging from gnarled trees, their smooth, rosy skin glistening in the warm light. 

The valley before her stretched far and wide, with rows of ancient ‘peach’ trees whose branches were heavy with flesh. The trees themselves were magnificent, their enormous trunks twisted and knotted as if by centuries of growth, covered in delicate petals that rustled and flew in the gentle breeze.

Blossoms above and below, drifting lazily through the air like whispers. 

In the distance, Lianshi saw a giant, ornate, golden gate. Beyond that, she saw the steps of Jade Palaces, massive structures that rival the mountains of her Province, made of golden clouds, silver stones, and obsidian glass.

And far, far above even those titans of heavenly architecture, she saw it. 

Looming high into stormy clouds as it speared the astral heavens… The birthplace of cultivation itself.

The girl collapsed to her knees, the strength in her legs leaving.

Even if she had never seen it in person before, Lianshi instantly knew what it was.

No cultivator was blind to the terrible majesty of Mount Tai.

I’m in the Core Provinces, she thought numbly. No. Not only that. I am upon one of the peaks of Mount Tai… The Celestial Courts of the Dead Gods…

Someone spoke.

“Now, this is interesting. How did a Daemon like you enter the Garden?”

A voice behind her. There was something in their voice which broke the enchantment of the vast horror holding her gaze. Lianshi gasped, tearing her bleeding eyes away from the visage of Mount Tai.

She turned around. Sat on a boulder a few metres from her was a person, eating a heart-peach.

“I would not recommend staring at the peaks for too long, Once-Daughter of Anu,” they said, their voice a chuckling rasp. “Mount Tai does not take kindly to disrespect or foreigners, dead though the vaulted mountain might be.”

Lianshi had thought at first they were human. However, though the figure was humanoid, its exposed skin and face carried far too much hair, dark and well-kempt it might be. A golden tail behind them flicked back and forth, fluid in motion.

Tall and musclebound, the creature was dressed in ornate armour from top to bottom. Red and gold accents blazed along its battle-worn edges. It looked like an animal — a monkey, Lianshi realised — dressed in warrior regalia, but there was nothing bestial in their expression.

A strong face honed with sharp features — a prominent brow and a piercing gaze. Confidence, wisdom, and an underlying mischievous nature — all wrapped to cover a mass of malicious madness dwelling docile within its noble form.

“Hmm, not entirely a Daemon,” the monkey pondered, scratching its chin. Its gaze never left hers. “You have the scent of our Dead Gods upon you. But judging from your cultivation and age… A Worm-host from the Outer Provinces? Curious indeed.”

Once again, a name came to her mind without prompting.

“The Victorious Fighting Immortal,” Lianshi murmured, unbidden.

The Thing Once Called the Primate tilted its— his head.

“Now that is very strange. I have not been called that in quite a long time. Most simply know me as the Imperial Regent. Or the Dead Emperor’s mouthpiece, when they think I can’t hear them,” the monkey tossed aside the half-eaten peach. “How does a Worm know of such ancient history? Or would this be the Daemon I speak to?”

Lianshi wordlessly lifted her right arm. The sleeve fell away, revealing seven shining frosted gems.

The Primate blinked. A second passed. He started snickering.

“Oh, I see now… Not quite the Daemon, then. That damn mosquito knows how to keep a grudge, it seems…” he chuckled. “Although, aren’t you a little too weak to serve as its assassin?”

Assassin? Lianshi numbly shook her head. “No, that’s not… I thought it was supposed to deliver me power… The Primaeval Blood of Legend.”

“A means to a power, perhaps.” The Primate corrected. “Those bracelets are memory talismans of sorts, woven together from the corpse of Demons and Gods. I don’t know who made it, but I can sense the crystallised memories of the Ancient Sanguivore within them. Once viewed together, they would bring you to the original source of the power.”

“Not the corpse,” Lianshi whispered. “But the blood you stole.”

“I prefer the word ‘confiscate’. Such blood can be dangerous in the wrong hands. I kept it safe from any… regrettable misuse.”

The Primate sat up. His armour plates shifted and clinked melodiously against each other. Lianshi could not sense his qi, but there was no doubt he was strong.

“Now then,” he said, stretching his arms. “Do you have any last words before I kill you?”

Lianshi stepped back.

“Why so surprised? You are a Daemon trespasser, after all,” the Primate chuckled. “Now, I’m all for mischievous games and pranks, but even my authority limits what I could — or rather, should — allow. The last thing I need is another lecture from the Four Heavenly Kings or the Celestial Captain again. You would think they learnt how to relax after I killed them once already, a thousand years ago. You were there yourself, invader of a foreign heaven.”

The Primate looked at her curiously. The words and titles he spoke of her were strange, but Lianshi had no doubt that had he wished her dead, she would be killed before she even noticed. 

Be bold. If not now, then never.

The Young Miss straightened her back. “The Primaeval Blood. Give it to me.”

The Primate hummed. “And why would I do that?”

“I am the Young Miss of the Split-Headed Carnivore Sect. The blood that I saw you pillage is the Sect’s by birthright. Mine, by birthright. You have no right to it. If you claim to be the Imperial Regent, then you must follow Imperial Laws. You do not have a claim to it.”

“That is a weak argument,” the Primate shrugged. “The Law can piss off, and the Empire’s impotent legislation holds no sway on me. The Grand Pure Ones no longer hold the title of Supreme Elder Judge. Their Dao of the Heavenly Mandates no longer exerts the same influence to keep us Immortals and Dead Gods in check.”

“Then by what right do you have to keep the Blood?”

The Primate snorted. “How about strength, for one? You do not have the capacity to take it back from me.”

“That just makes you a Tyrant.”

The Primate fell silent.

Lianshi continued: “I saw you in the memories. Trickster Immortal you might be, you still fought against the Heavens for Humanity’s freedom during the first rebellion. You detest the Gods and their way of ruling. The Blood you took was not an act performed lightly. You knew what would be born from such loathsome rapine.”

The curse of the Carnivores, inflicted upon every disciple on the Fang Mountain. The starving of Yang flesh was but a start. As they grew and ascended the Realms, the true nightmarish effects of the Hunger took hold. 

Lianshi had witnessed them. The Curse was seen within the Nights of Famine, the screaming of Elders with their hideous forms being dragged into the warded coffins of the Ice Palaces, the face of her ‘Mother’...

“You are worse than the Gods,” Lianshi finished, glaring at the unamused Primate. “At least they do not veil their horrors with ignoble deceit! There is no righteousness in this!”

“Righteousness?”

Lianshi was lifted off the ground before she noticed. The Primate held her by the throat, choking her.

He could have simply snapped her neck or torn it off completely, yet his hold on her was almost gentle.

“Look around you, girl,” he commanded. His voice was impossible to resist, a golden hold upon her mind. “You stand atop a graveyard of Gods. The peaches grown here are the product of savaged Divinity, as well as the corpses of billions who died to bring their end.”

The Primate lifted her higher and forced her to face Mount Tai. Lianshi’s mind was unravelling at the sight.

The Mountain… It was no mountain at all. It still moved. It still breathed. Meat and Skin and Bones. Mount Tai… Mount Tai was a—!

The sight was torn from her. Lianshi realised she had gone blind.

“Ask them — the countless dead who followed the Morning Star to the very slopes of that accused mountain,” the Primate continued, his voice deceptively calm. “Asked them if the ‘righteousness’ of that Dragon and his lies were worth it.”

Lianshi could not speak. She was barely alive.

“Silence. I suppose that is also a fitting answer.”

The Primate released her. Lianshi collapsed to the ground. She coughed and heaved. Her arms groped around blindly. 

They grabbed onto a golden greave.

“Gave it… back…” she hissed. “I need it…”

“Save your strength,” the Primate sighed. “The bracelets should send you back to wherever you came from soon. I’m not in the habit of killing worms, and since you would rid yourself of this place soon anyway, I would rather not stain the gardens with your worthless blood.”

“I am dead anyway… If I go back like this…”

“How sad. Unfortunately for you, I do not care. Such matters are beneath me.”

The Primate, however, did not leave. Lianshi’s hand remained futilely gripped on his greaves. Her body was growing weak.

Her presence was fading. Whatever arcane Arts were holding her to that place, it would soon wear off. She was running out of time.

“He needs me…” Lianshi hissed, desperate. Her fingers bled from how tightly she held onto the greaves’ razor edges. Her mind was blanking… “If I go back like this… He’s dead. He can’t… die for me…”

The Primate scoffed. “Dying for others is all he is good for. Why begrudge him his purpose? All you have told me is that he is still the same: a Fool who cannot live up to his namesake, promising pretty lies to Immortals, Gods, and Daemons alike.”

“Not for me… Not like this…” Lianshi whimpered. “I don’t…”

Want him to die any more.

“... Neither do I.”