II-103 Solution: Mass Murder

My greatest mistake was imagining that there were rules at all. There are no rules. I was a fool.

I really should have started killing more people sooner.

So many things could have been made easier otherwise.

Well. Never too late to learn.

-Wei An Wei, The Realmbreaker

II-103

Solution: Mass Murder

“You should kill them all. Somehow.”

Wei smirked as his mother said what he expected her to. They were back in her personal study, two cups of hot tea across from each other. When he first arrived, she—along with the rest of the sect—found themselves overwhelmed by surprise. They welcomed him with all the cheer they could muster, and Wei found himself wondering just what it was like living in the abyss.

Or unliving, as things properly went.

According to them, it was like being in a long dream that wouldn’t end. Moments blurred together, and they were aware of themselves only faintly, as if staring at shadows on the wall in the somber seconds before sleep swallowed them. There was a hallucinatory quality to the way they described things, but one thing that remained common between all of them was the claim that the world grew “brighter” when he arrived—that they were more themselves.

Yet, somehow, Wei doubted he was the cause of this. After all, he felt no one draw from his Essence. It was more like the Hound pulling back their power. Or influence.

And that brought Wei back to the present, back to drinking tea with his mother after long hours of recounting everything he struggled and suffered, everything he managed to do.

A soft sigh escaped from her as she leaned back into her chair. Somehow, her hairpin had returned—the one his father bought for her. She was wearing it. Wei blinked as he noticed that; the sight made his stomach coil.

“You are a fool, my dear boy. A genius; a warrior; the light of my heart; but a fool.”

Wei did his best to keep himself from tearing up. He was patriarch now, and it would be untoward to burden his mother more with childish breakdowns. He already embarrassed himself enough during his first descent into the abyss. “I know,” Wei said quietly. “But I couldn’t run. I couldn’t flee. The opportunity was there, the Duchess—”

“Not that,” his mother said, offering a slight laugh. She sipped from her cup and eyed him, her green eyes gleaming like emeralds in the dim lighting of the room. “Your choices. To keep doing this yourself. To deprive yourself of your sect and your advantages. The living blade was right: That is why I call you a fool. Because she and her brother would have fought for you—were indebted to die for you, if the time came.”

The idea of Mourning and Vendrian dying for him was disgusting, and Wei let his feelings escape into his expression.

His mother let out a nod. “Yes. Now you see the first and truest pain of being patriarch. The fear of loss. The terror of losing those you care for, those you claim as disciples.”

“They have suffered enough,” Wei said, awkwardly. “Everyone I have taken on—many are powerful. But they are wounded too. Vulnerable.” He scowled as he thought of things again. “I could have beaten her. If I wasn’t such a near-sighted simpleton. I could have lead her into the dark immediately and been more—”

“But you didn’t,” his mother said, cutting through his navel-gazing, putting an end to the self-pity. “That is what matters. We are not academics, Wei. We are Cultivators. Warriors against the Heavens. Architects of our own damned fates. You know all we have is what we can take, so why cling to the losses of the past? Why use them to whip yourself?”

At this, Wei felt the Shell inside himself quiver. It was unlike the Skill to be cowed so, but cowed he was. “I… I deserve chastisement for my defeat.”

“No. You simply must learn from your losses.” His mother hesitated for a moment, before reaching over and taking him by the hand. The mist in Wei’s eyes grew a bit harder to hold back. He started down into his own tea, away from his mother. “You are not a coward. Look up. Look at me.”

Wei did. And it was a great feat of will that he didn’t betray his heart and bawl like a child.

“What you face and suffer are grave misfortunes. Do not lie to yourself otherwise. Do not claim you are weak or feeble for taking wounds. For failing. Perfect is a great poison that can strengthen a warrior temporarily, but always and inevitably lays them low in the grand progression of time.”

“I cannot afford to fail,” Wei said, shaking his head. “I cannot afford mistakes and defeats. The consequences are too great.”

“Indeed,” his mother said gently. “But you need to be wiser than you are. You have given much to further your skill as a warrior, but what of that mind I know you have? That mind you seem so desperate not to use.” She pulled her hand off his and lightly jabbed his forehead with a finger. “What of this.”

The young master winced slightly. “I was… preoccupied.”

“Yes. With being a simple hammer, but you can be so much more. Think of the Duchess. Think of how you greeted her. With your System and your gun, you could have achieved a far more successful ambush if you had only considered your options. And there is your pride. Testing yourself against greater strength is commendable, but do not let it hang you. Kill your enemies when you can. There will be no songs written for fools that let triumph slip from their hands.”

“Yes, mother,” Wei said, nodding. He missed this. These talks. The piety he could convey—that he thought little of conveying while he was alive. “And so… I could use more of your advice. On how I proceed.”

The once matriarch of the Drowned Sky Sect went silent for a moment, considering her son’s question. She was thinking. Something Wei should probably do more, as she said. Even with all the power he gained, he needed more experience to match her insight. “First, your focus on empowering your own sect is correct. You cannot protect them forever. Sometimes, you cannot protect them at all.”

A flicker of something played across her face. “That girl you spoke of…. the princess.”

“Agnesia.”

“Yes. Her. Focus your cultivation on her, Vendrian, and the living blade the most. They will be your pillars. They will hold the sect and take the burden off your shoulder. Power begets power, and more will flock to you when they believe you can change their fates.”

“Yes, mother.”

“Your idea with the guns is correct. Do not spurn tools. But you are using them to protect your weakest. Do not think of them as a crutch to replace training.”

Just the thought offended Wei. “Of course not. I will not be patriarch with feeble vermin.”

“I know,” his mother said, patting his arm. “You would not be my son otherwise.” She paused for a moment, and Wei read something verging on sorrow pass behind her eyes. “But you are not my son alone. There is another thing you have not been so wise about. Your father. You should have used him more.”

A spot of coldness expanded inside Wei. “I… no. No.”

“Yes,” his mother said, with a bit more force.

“He betrayed our sect!”

“He know the outsiders and their ways. He has been in the greater Fathoms. Has knowledge of those you face and how to kill them.”

“He let our world burn! Gave us to the demons!”

“And so he knows who you must kill—who you should kill first, when the time comes.”

“He murdered you!” Wei snarled.

“Wei,” his mother said, her own face like stone. “I know. He has… wounded me in places I didn’t believe I could bleed.” For a moment, he thought she might weep again, but she closed her heart like a fan, and pressed on. “But even so. He was a great pillar. My greatest. No one else could have… There was no one else in the end. Even now. And that is why I loathe him so.”

Wei understood. And he wished he didn’t.

“Use him,” his mother said again. “Use every bit of his expertise, his wisdom. Use him against the world. Hold his regret–his love for you as a slave if need be. I could see that he still wants it. Even when I was taking my revenge on him. He is a torn man. This need not be a thing of our disadvantage. But use him nonetheless. The Hound, the Harbinger, the Lodge… everyone else has their own game. But your father is yours to wield. So wield him.”

The idea was horrifying to Wei. Even now, the presence of his father was like a festering wound in his heart. But his mother was right. As always. She was right.

“Then, there is the matter of your Shell,” his mother continued.

“Ah, yes,” Wei said, his expression brightening. “The Skill is—”

“A bastard. If it can hear that, let it know I said it.” The Shell flinched at her words. And still she wasn’t done. “You deserve to be criticized and improved. It does that, but insults that meant to harm the self are weapons of the enemy. If it is intent on playing for both ends, then let it do so quietly as a tool rather than a shadow of your ego.”

Wei gawked.

“An Wei. Look at me. Do not let this be a habit. I have seen promising warriors fall to self loathing. It is not a strength. It is just another poison.”

Unsure what else to say, he just nodded. A deep welling of shame and sorrow came from his Shell thereafter—the kind of pain Wei might feel when he incurred his mother’s disappointment.

“Besides this, you need more Skills. More Titles. You have focused on increasing your Aspects. Even now, your System surges.”

Aspect Shards: [844]

Concept Shards: [211]

“Yes,” Wei said, feeling all he took from Lein over the course of their final bout burn inside him like raw metal waiting to be forged into weapons proper. “I have the means to empower myself—”

“Then do it. But do not do it blindly.” She said. “You need specific techniques now. You face grave threats, but nothing can avoid the touch of your scythe and gun. So harm is not your greatest concern. More speed is always welcome. But you need something more. Something that will allow you to reposition yourself, or change the nature of the battlefield for your enemies. Broaden your intellect and reflexes, but gorge your Concept Cores. You have a foundation. Now give yourself choices. Someone might be stronger, faster, and hardier than you, but they cannot take away your ability to move, to stride, to swim. Be a master of all conditions.”

“Like Lein was?” Wei asked. “With all her summoned beasts.”

“Yes. Though I will have to punish you if you lose to some upstart child as a patriarch.” His mother sneered. “What a pitiful wench. To think that she thought herself capable of supplanting me.”

“No one can,” Wei said quietly. “No one will.”

Mother and son shared a look, and slowly, she reached over and held him. “I love you, dear boy. I never told you that enough while I was alive, so I will have to speak this words from this sunken place.”

Wei said nothing. Because if he did speak, words would not be the only thing that would fall.

As she released him, she shook her head. “Our time draws close again. I can feel my senses dimming. But yes. You must kill them all. All of them. All the ones you can. Every opportunity you get. The Harbinger… he is no true ally, but he did this for you—set the conditions for a Duchess’s murder for a reason. He wants you to be feared. To be a rising demagogue in his own realm.”

“But I cannot understand why?” Wei asked.

His mother’s eyes narrowed. “I have done the same thing once. Empowered certain enemies so they can cut down others. Sometimes, the best thing you can do for yourself is create a nemesis. A nemesis you can control. That you enjoy. Or that feels like they owe you.”

Wei considered that. Mepheleon needed him for Earth—but there was something else at play. Something else that Wei couldn’t grasp. Something made him think of the thing he broke within the Hound—the chains holding the god back—and the young master sighed. Colossal shadows were still moving around him—he needed more power, and some means of understanding the situation from an unbiased lens.

But where would he find that?

“Perhaps a private conversation with a certain goblin is in order as well,” his mother said, as if reading his mind.

The young master blinked. “Yes. Schrödinger. I have many arrangements with him.”

“And he has many with others as well. This makes him a fantastic broker—though not someone you can trust either. Yet, with the number of dalliances he holds, I suspect that he is a greater power than what he portrays himself as.”

“I will seek him out. I will… I will do as you say. You advice is sorely missed, mother. As is your presence.”

She offered him a slight smile. “Good. Then at least I lived well. And I live on in you. When you return, seek to master yourself without harm. Seek to further your power without blindness. Seek to expand your sect without fear. Nothing is promised. The hells are cruel. So you must not only be a champion to those you consider kin and ally, but yourself as well. Be a hero for yourself.”

“I… I can. I will.” His Shell said. And Wei felt something changing inside him, advancing within the depths of his spirit.

The corners of the room began to smear as curling wisps of ink-black darkness bled through. There wasn’t enough time—there was never enough time. Wei reached out and held his mother’s hand. And there they stayed for a while as the dark slowly crawled over everything.

But while the space around them grew darker, a wry glint flashed behind his mother’s eyes. “Wei. Tell me again, about that Agnesia. How tall did you say she was again? Taller than you?”

“By a bit,” Wei lied. “Why?”

“Hm. That will make certain things difficult. But interesting. Ah. It is fine. Matriarch Lou Ding Shan was larger than all her concubines, and she assured me that these things only offer new possibilities if one desires.”

Wei took a moment to parse through the subtext behind his mother’s words. And then his face turned a certain shade of crimson. “I—mother.”

She snorted before laughing. “A final piece of advice: Live. Enjoy what you can of life and of people. It is worth it.” Her gaze when distant. The darkness washed through them both. “Even if they hurt you.”