Chapter 150: TO BE BACK

A bit delayed (I really wanted to get this one right, and it took me longer than I would have thought), but better late than never. This is last Monday's pending chapter. I hope you enjoy it.

CHAPTER

150

TO BE BACK

Jieyuan

—∞—

Meiyao was different. Her appearance was the same. Same long, flowing brown hair. Same vibrant green eyes. Same impossibly, hauntingly beautiful face.

But she was different. It was the way she stood, shoulders squared, as she faced the Primordial. The way she had her chin slightly lifted so that she could stare straight into Muyeshen’s mist-wreathed eyes.

It was the way she no longer looked hesitant or cowered in front of the beast. She didn’t look defiant, not exactly, but where before there’d been a healthy helping of fear, there was now something subtler and calmer.

Respect. That was what Jieyuan was reading in Meiyao’s face, eyes, and posture. A lot of respect, yes. But not a hint of fear.

A furred white shape sat on Meiyao’s shoulders, curled around her neck. Xiaohu, Jieyuan recognized. It didn’t seem any different, but from this far away he couldn’t really tell; in any case, Jieyuan was glad to see the little prowler seemed to be fine.

The Primordial stared down at Meiyao, silent. Muyeshen stood at full height now, proud and imposing in a way that not even the Violetsoul eagle that had brought them to the cave, several times Muyeshen’s size, had managed to be. There was a majesty to the way Muyeshen stood, a feral but regal grace.

Something was different about it, though. The mist wrapped around its body was fainter and weaker. Its cloak of mist, originally thick and roiling, was now sparse. So much so that Jieyuan now knew for certain that it was a cloak. Before, he’d been unsure; he’d wondered whether Muyeshen might have been made from the mist, but now he could see that wasn’t the case.

In places where the mist was faintest—over Muyeshen’s long, graceful neck, around its svelte body and slender legs—Jieyuan could see stretches of thick, luxurious fur, white and green. Its eyes, too, were partly revealed, though it took a while for Jieyuan to realize it, because they were the same color as the mist. A deep, rich green. Viridian.

A silent understanding seemed to pass between Meiyao and Muyeshen. Meiyao nodded, and the Primordial slowly lifted its head, breaking eye contact. Its gaze came to fall on the tunnel leading to the cave, where Jieyuan and Daojue were.

Suddenly, the mist around Muyeshen grew frantic again: a twisting, churning storm of green cloaking its form. An invisible pressure wrapped around Jieyuan, holding him in place. Beside him, Daojue stiffened.

YOU. TIANZIJUN. YOU DARE RETURN?

Hatred poured into Jieyuan’s being, dark and thick, as the Primordial’s words shook his soul.

Muyeshen took a step forward. But then Meiyao spoke up.

“Muyeshen,” she said, her voice both quiet and loud as it echoed in the cave. “Don’t.”

She didn’t look away from the beast, still standing with her back half-turned toward the tunnel.

The Primordial froze, and though the invisible pressure around Jieyuan did not disappear, the hatred receded, loosening its vice-grip on his heart.

DAUGHTER. YOU KNOW NOT WHAT THAT CREATURE IS. YOU KNOW NOT ITS SIRE. THE SPAWNS OF THE SOURCE ARE A DISEASE. THEY CARRY A PLAGUE LIKE NO OTHER. THEIR BLOOD IS POISON AND ROT.

“I don’t care,” Meiyao said, unmoving as she stared up at Muyeshen. “We have fought alongside each other. I might not call him a friend, but he is my companion all the same. You will not kill him.”

Muyeshen huffed, mist spiraling around its snout.

YOU KNOW NOT WHAT YOU ARE PROTECTING, DAUGHTER. THE VERMIN MAY YET GROW INTO A SECOND SCOURGE AND BARE ITS FANGS. HIS WRETCHED BLOOD RUNS TOO STRONG. YOU MAKE A MISTAKE.

“Then it is my mistake to make,” Meiyao said firmly. “You told me, in the trial, I must make my own choices—and that, whatever I choose, I must stand by it. Well, I choose to commit this mistake. I choose to ask you to spare him. Will you?”

Neither Meiyao nor Muyeshen moved. The seconds passed, excruciatingly slow, as they stared at each other. But then, slowly, the mist around Muyeshen calmed. The pressure around Jieyuan vanished, and the remnants of the hatred that had gripped him faded away.

VERY WELL. THE SPAWN OF THE SCOURGE MAY LIVE.

Muyeshen then turned its head away from Meiyao and lowered itself down to the floor of the cave, settling down.

LEAVE. YOU HAVE FULFILLED YOUR DESTINY WITHIN MY DOMAIN. THE REST OF YOUR PATH LIES BEYOND IT. I HAVE BID ONE OF MY CREATURES TO DELIVER YOU OUTSIDE.

Muyeshen huffed again, softly, before lowering its head, returning to the same resting position Jieyuan had found it in when he reappeared in the cave.

MAY THE HEAVENS LOOK OVER YOU, DAUGHTER OF MINE.

Its voice was quieter now, just a ripple in Jieyuan’s soul.

“Thank you,” Meiyao said. She turned toward the tunnel; her gaze landed on Jieyuan.

Meiyao froze, just for a step; then a look that took Jieyuan’s breath away flashed across her face—warm and bright and radiant.

She schooled her expression the next moment, but the hint of a smile lingered. She nodded at him, and Jieyuan could do little more than nod back.

Meiyao walked over; Jieyuan stood still. She was still some ways off the tunnel when she flickered to life to his soulsense, a vague red luminous form overlapping with her. Tenth-shade red. She’d reached tenth-sign Redsoul.

That was important, but Jieyuan set it aside, because what was more important was that she was here.

She stopped in front of him. Jieyuan felt an overwhelming need wash over him, a need to reach forward, to take her into his arms and press her so hard against himself he could feel her heartbeat meld into his own.

But just as he took a step forward, Meiyao gave him a pointed look, then subtly indicated the Primordial with her head, and Jieyuan remembered himself. Her smile widened, though, twitching at the edges, like she was fighting it down and not having much success.

Meiyao stepped closer, leaning forward.

Strands of her brown hair fell over his shoulder, her breath brushed warm against his neck, and her floral scent filled his nose and lungs, fresh and vivid, overriding the rot-sweet stench of the viridian mist.

She whispered, “Soon.”

Then she pulled away. But as she did, a furred white-and-green body hopped off her shoulders and landed on Jieyuan’s. Xiaohu. The little beast purred softly, coiling around Jieyuan’s neck, rubbing its little head just under his throat before it settled down. Jieyuan couldn’t help but smile; it seemed like Meiyao wasn’t the only that missed him.

Meiyao raised an eyebrow, looking between Jieyuan and Xiaohu, before rolling her eyes and walking past them, deeper into the tunnel. Jieyuan pried his gaze off her and shifted it to Daojue. He found that Daojue was still looking into the cave, staring at the Primordial’s form.

“Come on,” Jieyuan said quietly, and Daojue’s focus snapped over to him.

Jieyuan walked off, following Meiyao down the tunnel; Daojue fell into step.

After a few steps, though, Jieyuan felt something brush against his soul, words so light and soft they could’ve been the breeze.

and may you one day stand above the Heavens, my daughter

Jieyuan glanced back; Muyeshen hadn’t moved at all, giving no sign that it had just spoken.

Meiyao and Daojue had also stopped in place. Like him, Daojue turned back to look at the Primordial. Meiyao, on the other hand, didn’t. She just stood there for a long moment, her back to them, facing the tunnel; then she nodded, as if to herself, before continuing forward.

They followed.

They were inside the tunnel for maybe a few minutes, the cave far behind them, when Meiyao slowed her pace, moving to stand beside Jieyuan. Realizing what was happening, Jieyuan also shortened his stride, letting Daojue overtake them.

Daojue glanced back at him and Meiyao, but didn’t otherwise react, and silently took the lead.

Standing side by side now, Meiyao drew herself closer to him, until her shoulder was brushing against Jieyuan’s as they walked.

“So,” she said, quietly. “I imagine we have some catching-up to do.”

Jieyuan shot her a look; that same need he’d felt before resurfaced, but he swallowed it down.

Heavens, I need to get a grip on myself. It was like his body wanted to make up for all the lost time they’d spent apart. It was even worse than when they’d been separated back in the Dome.

Back then, he hadn’t known what it was like to be with Meiyao: to have her, and to be had by her. He’d managed to keep himself together throughout the Absolute Sword Trial by avoiding thinking about her, but now that she was right there, beside him, it took everything he had to keep himself in check.

“That’s an understatement and a half,” Jieyuan said, dryly, summoning all the nonchalance he could muster, acting casual in a way he certainly didn’t feel. “Tell me yours, and I’ll tell you mine?”

Meiyao chuckled softly. She seemed to be as relaxed, at ease, as he was pretending to be, but when he stole another glance at her, her emerald-green gaze was dark and liquid. Hungry. He swallowed again, thickly, and tore his eyes away before he lost himself in hers.

There’d be time for that later, he told himself. It was a promise, in fact. One he’d very well kill to keep.

“Sure,” Meiyao said, a laughter in her voice that did not at all match the desire he’d seen in her eyes. “I learned so much in Muyeshen’s trial, but also very little. It’s… strange.”

Her tone lost its playful edge; this time Jieyuan consciously risked a glance, and he saw that she wore a different expression now: a complex one, not focused on him, half remembrance, half something else. “I’m still trying to make sense of it all. But… There is something I can tell you. One thing I have to tell you.”

She looked hesitant, now, the odd mood that had taken over her intensifying. There was a touch of apprehension in her expression as she looked at him now, which Jieyuan couldn’t understand.

“Yes?” Jieyuan felt a stab of worry. Meiyao wasn’t the sort to fret over small things.

“My bloodright… It was suppressed,” Meiyao said, slowly, deliberately. “And… So was my heavenly affinity.”

That second bit seized Jieyuan’s attention. “Your heavenly affinity? Suppressed?”

“Yes.”

“That…” Jieyuan hadn’t even known something like that was possible. He wanted to know how and why. Every detail, really. But there was something else he needed to know first. Something more important. Already, he was thinking of possibilities and consequences.

He could see in the way Meiyao looked at him that she was still not sold on telling him, though. Still hesitating. He’d have to give it a little push.

“What’s your real heavenly affinity, then?”

“I…” Meiyao glanced over at Daojue, who was still leading the way, his back to them, and then back at him. She still didn’t speak.

Jieyuan gave it some quick thought. One thing that was for sure was that this had to be something big. Meiyao wouldn’t be acting like this otherwise. Before the Absolute Sword Trials, he’d have bet on sixth-order.

But now he knew so much more about the Heavens and affinities. And Muyeshen seemed like a transcendental existence—a Primordial, or maybe the Primordial, a being even Violetsouls spoke of in tones of awe—and for it to consider Meiyao so special… Sixth-order seemed mundane.

“Seventh-order?” he ventured.

A flicker of confusion and surprise passed through Meiyao’s face. “Oh. You— You really do have quite a lot to tell me.”

He most definitely did. But that was a subject for later.

“I was right, then?” Jieyuan pressed. “Seventh-order? Is that it?”

A possibility occurred to Jieyuan. An explanation for all this hesitation. Meiyao was worried about leaving him behind. She knew his heavenly affinity; she was still under the impression he couldn’t make it past Greensoul. Meiyao knew him well enough to predict how he’d take news like this. How it’d affect him. More, how it’d affect them.

That was one problem he’d already solved, though; his heavenly affinity was still fourth-order, sure, but his affinities with Pain, Fire, and Blood were more than enough to get him to Violetsoul.

It wasn’t a perfect solution, granted. She’d still be able to cultivate faster because of her heavenly affinity, and he’d need a steady supply of chroma prisms and to put in a great deal of work to keep up. But Jieyuan was nothing if not a hard worker. It could be done. It would be done.

He was about to tell Meiyao as much and relieve her of her worries when she shook her head, softly.

He frowned. No? Did he undershoot it? Don’t tell me, eighth-order—

“Tenth-order,” Meiyao said.

Jieyuan froze mid-step. Meiyao stopped walking, too, like she’d been waiting for it.

“Tenth?” he asked, faintly, as he turned to fully face her.

“Tenth,” Meiyao confirmed.

Tenth. Tenth-order heavenly affinity.

He tried to make sense of it.

In the Absolute Sword Trial, violetsouls had competed for a shot at seventh-order affinity with a Concept. Jieyuan had put his life on the line several times, himself, for it. His Blood affinity had been handed to him on a golden platter, sure, but he’d had to work and gamble for Pain and Fire. And all of it had only been possible, in the first place, because of how absurdly unique the Sword Tower was, with its own Heavens.

And Meiyao… If she was telling the truth (and she wouldn’t lie about this, not Meiyao), then she could reach not just seventh-order affinity, but tenth-order affinity with any Concept given enough time. No Sword Tower needed.

Still staring at the quiet storm brewing in Meiyao’s eyes, Jieyuan made a few quick calculations. And he realized it should only take Meiyao a few years of dedicated pursuit to reach seventh-order affinity with a Concept, starting from zero. Months, if her pursuit method was good enough. If she pursued Death, Space, or Pain, she’d even be getting new soulskills of it.

If her heavenly affinity had been seventh-order, it’d have been easier to swallow. She’d still have been able to raise any of her Concept affinities to seventh-order, sure, but it’d have taken several years, if not decades, to pull it off. That wasn’t much if your lifespan was in the hundreds or thousands of years, but they weren’t even in their twenties yet. That much time seemed like an eternity away.

Months, on the other hand?

“Jieyuan…” Meiyao began, softly, but he was too deep into his thoughts to pay attention.

Because there was the matter of cultivation, too. To use a heavenly hymn of a certain realm, what mattered was your affinity with the Concept it praised. First-order for a Redsoul hymn, second-order for an Orangesoul one, all the way to sixth-order for a Violetsoul hymn.

But all that did was let you use the hymn. The effects—the efficiency, the efficacy—of a hymn depended on your heavenly affinity, your affinity with the Heavens themselves.

Jieyuan’s seventh-order affinities meant he could reach Violetsoul if he got his hands on Fire, Pain, and Blood hymns. But they wouldn’t let him harvest, attune, and imbue chroma any faster, because that hinged on heavenly affinity, and his hadn’t changed.

Ahead, Daojue had also halted, though he still had his back turned to them. He was clearly listening, though, and normally Jieyuan would’ve wondered what Daojue thought about all of this, but right now all of his attention was turned inward.

One particular thought wormed its way to the forefront of his mind, slick and damning.

Seventh-order affinity was as far from fourth-order as fourth-order was from first-order: three orders. And tenth-order was as far from seventh-order by that same amount. The difference in potential—for Concept pursuit, for cultivation—between Jieyuan’s and the barest minimum required to be a cultivator, Meiyao had it twice over him.

The math didn’t quite work like that, he knew, but he just couldn’t shake off the thought. Six affinity orders stood between him and Meiyao now. Six. Enough to make a future Violetsoul out of a mundane.

Heavens take it.

A warmth on his face broke him out of his stupor; blinking, he realized that Meiyao had her fingers on his chin, cupping it. She wasn’t wearing gauntlets, he noticed, her hands bare.

He also noticed that Xiaohu had shifted her position on his shoulders, raising her head to look at him with her little, beady green eyes.

“Jieyuan,” Meiyao said, firmly now, as she looked straight into his eyes. She didn’t look as apprehensive anymore; her gaze was still searching, but her expression was firmer, almost resolute. “This does not—will not—change anything.”

Xiaohu gave a little yip, like it was agreeing with her master.

Jieyuan’s mind ground to an abrupt halt. It kicked back into motion the next moment, full-throttle.

And then he started chuckling.

Caught off guard, Meiyao blinked at him. “Jieyuan?”

“Of course it doesn’t change anything,” Jieyuan said. “What? You thought I’d let you make it to Violetsoul by yourself? That I’d let you leave me behind like that? Come on.”

He smiled, bright and wide and challenging, and it was only half a lie. “There’s something I’ve got to tell you, myself. I don’t know about this suppressed heavenly affinity business, but I got a few things out of the Plunderer’s trials. Among them, three seventh-order affinities. Fire, Pain, and Blood.”

“You… what?” Meiyao looked stunned.

“I mean, it’s copper next to your tenth-order, that’s true,” Jieyuan said, with a self-deprecating shrug, “but it still means I’m in it for the long haul. You aren’t getting rid of me this easily, Meiyao.”

He must’ve sold it well—or maybe Meiyao was too shocked to read him right—because her face suddenly lit up, and then she lunged at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, holding him close.

She burrowed her head in the crook of his neck and whispered, her words half muffled, “That’s… I thought… I’m so glad…”

Xiaohu yipped again, more softly, and settled down.

Jieyuan closed his eyes, glad she couldn’t see his face right now. He’d been telling her the truth; he wasn’t about to be left behind, not now, not ever. But the gap between them now was very much a real thing. He’d bridge it somehow, eventually, but right now he had no idea, and he’d be lying if he said that didn’t bother him—that it didn’t fill him with a bit of despair.

But Meiyao had been clearly worried about this, and he didn’t need to add his own doubts to that. His insecurities, even, as much as it galled him to admit it. The truth was that he couldn’t change who he was; he’d always be a slave to envy and ambition, always comparing himself to everyone around him, always thirsting for more.

Daojue glanced back; Jieyuan met his unreadable, violet-eyed gaze, even as he hugged Meiyao. Something passed between him and Daojue—an understanding, an acknowledgment, Jieyuan wasn’t sure—before Daojue turned away again.

Feeling Meiyao shift in his arms, her hold on him slackening, Jieyuan quickly slipped his smile back on. Meiyao pulled away just enough to put her face in front of his, and look him fully in the face.

One of her arms stayed wrapped around him; the other, she pulled back, then raised her hand to his face, trailing her fingers softly against his cheek. Over his cheekbone, down the sharp line of his jaw. Her touch was like flame on his skin.

He drank in the sight of her. Of large, bright green eyes that no gemstone could ever hope to match. Of wavy brown hair, the color of chestnut, framing a face too lovely for words. Even the eerie glow of the viridian mist couldn’t detract from her beauty.

By the Heavens, she was so far above him. In so many ways.

She didn’t say anything, but the smile that bloomed on her face said it all.

Jieyuan could do nothing else but smile back.

She let go of him after a while. Still no word passed between them, but the silence that had settled was a peaceful one. Meiyao looked bright and high, like a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Jieyuan did his best to match her.

They all resumed walking, Daojue still at the lead. Meiyao stuck close to Jieyuan, and one of her hands closed around his own. He eyed her; she shot him a look of supreme satisfaction, then faced forward again. Jieyuan kept looking at her out of the corner of his eye, though.

He absentmindedly ran his hand through Xiaohu’s fur.

His thoughts, invariably, returned to the recent revelations. Something that had escaped his notice, what with everything, was Meiyao’s bloodright. She’d mentioned it’d been suppressed, and from what he understood, bloodright order matched that of heavenly affinity. Meaning Meiyao’s bloodright should also be tenth-order.

Does that mean new bloodskills? Meiyao should have also gotten other rewards from the Primordial’s trial. He had barely gotten started telling her about what he’d gained in the Absolute Sword Trials, himself; odds were the same went for her.

There was something else, too. He hadn’t forgotten about Meiyao’s six violet skill seeds, the ones she’d told him about a few days into the Dome. He’d thought that’d be the biggest surprise Meiyao had in store for him, but clearly he’d been wrong.

Tenth-order heavenly affinity. Six violet skill seeds. Only now was he really starting to realize how special Meiyao was, and he had no idea what it all meant. One thing was clear, though: she’d have been utterly unique even in a Violetsoul sect, never mind a Redsoul one.

Jieyuan’s gaze drifted off her, toward Daojue.

It was Daojue that Jieyuan had suspected, from the get-go, of being something more. There had always been all sorts of mysteries surrounding Daojue, and Jieyuan was still confident that the way he’d suddenly remembered his previous life, as Amyas, had to do with him. Over time, Jieyuan had only grown surer of his suspicions.

And now, with all these revelations about Meiyao… He couldn’t help but wonder how much of what applied to her also applied to Daojue.

Daojue was, after all, awfully cagey about his realmskill, just like Meiyao had been. And though Jieyuan knew that Daojue’s heavenly affinity was fourth-order… Meiyao’s had been suppressed. What if she wasn’t the only one like that?

And just where do I fit in all of this? Jieyuan wondered, too, and not for the first time.

—∞—

The end of the tunnel appeared before them: beyond, Jieyuan could see an open stretch of land, with towering glowing trees on the other side. They didn’t hasten their pace, kept walking at the same easy speed, but there was a tension in the air, all of a sudden. An expectation, lingering around them.

The silence that had settled earlier remained, but Jieyuan glanced at Meiyao, their hands still locked, and she glanced back at him, and Jieyuan saw the emotions dancing in her eyes. There was excitement in it, but other things too.

The Primordial had said it’d arranged to have them transported out of the Dome. Soon, they’d be outside this place. Soon, they’d be on their way back to Radiant Gold City.

The last he’d seen of it, it’d been burning, cultivators fighting and dying in the streets, the Xiyunfeng Clan and the Gleaming Nobles teaming up to take on the Gleaming Stone Sect’s forces. While Dajinzhi Qingshi, the man who’d tried to kill them during the Gleamstone Hunt, had not just been revealed to be alive, but also a tenth-sign Redsoul and somehow in command of the enemy.

There was also the question of just what had happened to the Howling Lightning Sect’s envoy. Of just what had given the Xiyunfeng and the Gleaming Nobles the courage to go through with it all.

Jieyuan had no idea what kind of state they’d find the city in. He didn’t even know if it’d still be standing, even, given the fire and the fighting.

Jieyuan didn’t know. He knew what would happen once they were back, though.

There would be bloodshed. Of that, he had no doubt.

And looking at Meiyao right now, he had a feeling she was thinking along similar lines.

Suddenly her lips curled upward, parting, white teeth revealed. It was a smile, but also not. A wild sheen bled into her eyes, dark and expectant.

Oh, she’s thinking the same thing, all right.

Meiyao had much more gold in the game than he did. He’d been targeted, too; he and Daojue. But for Meiyao, it was much more personal. It was her family that had been the target of the assault.

Jieyuan reckoned that by the time Meiyao was done, Qingshi would wish he’d died properly after the Gleamstone Hunt. That he hadn’t somehow escaped the death sentence of the Judgment Bureau.

Jieyuan would be getting his pound of blood, too. He didn’t take attempts on his life lightly, and his family lived in the city. He didn’t much care for his many cousins and aunts and uncles—the Haoyujin were all greedy, conniving snakes and jackals, each and every one of them—but they were still his blood.

It was one thing for the Haoyujin to kill each other over gold and control; it had become a tradition at some point, a game his family had played over the centuries. Nobody really took it to heart; business was business, as his old man had liked to say.

But if the killer was from outside the family? Then you took it to heart—more precisely, to the killer’s heart, with steel or poison. Not, necessarily, out of any kind of affection or love for the deceased. It was the principle of the thing, really.

Revenge was a business like any other. And it could even be a lucrative one, if you played your cards right.

Together, the three of them stepped out of the tunnel and into the open.

One thing that immediately became clear was that the bare stretch of grass separating the tunnel from the tree line wasn’t empty.

Off to the side of the tunnel, standing there in silence, perched on the ground, was a familiar beast. A massive bird, feathered white and green, nearly a hundred feet tall; Jieyuan had to crane his neck to get a look at its head.

An eagle, with four sets of eyes glowing above its curved white beak.

It was, Jieyuan was pretty sure, the same Violetsoul eagle that had brought them to the center of the Dome.

And he realized that this beast, which could easily destroy their island if it felt like it, was the transportation the Primordial had kindly arranged for them.

The sight of it, months ago, had left him frozen (Meiyao’s pronouncement that it was a Violetsoul, which had come shortly afterward, hadn’t helped matters any). He was still a great deal wary of the beast—you had to be, if not for its size, then for its realm—but not nearly as much.

Now, at least, he didn’t have to wonder about its purpose, even if he still had a hard time wrapping his head around the idea of a Violetsoul beast serving as a courier.

“Well,” Meiyao said, tugging on his hand. Her voice was quiet, but not afraid. “That’s our ride.”

The giant eagle’s four eyes stared down at them. Jieyuan swallowed dryly and let Meiyao pull him along toward it, Daojue following from the side.

—∞—

The journey was a short one, over before Jieyuan knew it; the three of them had climbed up onto its back, then an invisible force had enveloped Jieyuan, and that had been it.

They’d spent barely a minute in that state before the pressure was gone, and Jieyuan looked away from its body only to find that it had landed in a very small pocket; so small that most of the eagle’s body was consumed by the thicker mist above.

Jieyuan had barely climbed a fifth of the way up the eagle’s body, but he was near the very top of the pocket of mist. His soulsense had grown to the extent it could encompass almost the entire clearing, now, and he could sense the vegetation within: Redsoul.

He let go of the massive feathers he’d been gripping, falling to the ground by the eagle’s huge talons. Meiyao and Daojue dropped right beside him.

The very next moment, a great gust of wind buffeted them from above, and Jieyuan looked up just in time to see the edges of massive wings breaking through from the mist above; then what could be seen of the eagle’s body surged upward. It was gone in an instant.

And with it gone, Jieyuan got a good look at what was on the opposite side of the clearing, which the beast’s body had been blocking: a dense, thick wall of viridian mist. Much denser than the boundary mists that normally outlined the edges of a pocket. As dense as the mist that had wrapped around Muyeshen’s body, utterly impenetrable.

The wall of the Dome.

Jieyuan looked to Meiyao. She nodded at him and reached out, taking hold of his hand. Xiaohu, who had stayed with him throughout the flight, jumped off his shoulders and over to hers. Then she walked forward, her expression resolute. Jieyuan glanced at Daojue, and he got the message, putting a hand on Jieyuan’s shoulder. Meiyao leading the way, they crossed the wall of the Dome, the thick Viridian mist swallowing them.

And then they were on the other side.

They were still in a forest, every plant around them tenth-sign Redsoul. But none of it glowed, even if all the colors—green and brown, mostly—looked unusually vivid. More than that, though, there was no viridian mist. Jieyuan took a deep breath; the air still had a faint scent of rot to it, but it wasn’t nearly as strong as it’d been inside the Dome.

Glancing back, he confirmed that the wall of the Dome really was right behind them. Then he turned forward again and looked around. He found that this specific stretch of forest looked rather familiar. He looked up and saw flaws and gaps in the thick canopy above, like something had fallen through it. Multiple somethings, rather.

This was, he was pretty sure, the exact location they’d entered the Dome from. Where they’d faced down the Xiyunfeng woman and the Gleaming Noble who’d chased after them.

Jieyuan looked to his left.

Xiaohu was swivelling her little head around, taking in the sights. This was probably her first time outside the Dome.

Meiyao, on the other hand, had her gaze was fixed firmly forward—in the direction, Jieyuan was sure, of Radiant Gold City. And, beyond it, the Gleaming Stone Sect. She didn’t seem to be in the mood for dallying around.

“Let’s go,” Meiyao said.

Jieyuan obliged. He took his cloudcraft out of his split-space pouch, letting the red, silky material pool in front of them. Once it was done, he climbed up, Meiyao and Daojue joining him.

Then he took to the air, slowly at first, navigating the cloud through the tree tops, taking advantage of the gaps they’d left behind when they’d fallen through all those months ago. Once they’d broken out, the landscape opened up around them, thick foliage replaced by the horizon.

And, in the distance, he saw it: the massive, golden walls surrounding Radiant Gold City.

Jieyuan stared at them.

So the walls still stood. Radiant Gold City hadn’t been destroyed.

The question, then, was if that’d still be the case by the time they were done.

They were back, and they had debts to collect.

END OF ARC