Chapter 147: TO LAY BARE

This is last Monday's chapter, as promised, even if a bit late. I'd like to say next week's chapter is coming out tomorrow, but clearly I'm too optimistic with dates, so let's just play it safe and say it'll come out sometime next week.

CHAPTER

147

TO LAY BARE

Jieyuan

—∞—

The metal walls of the Sword Tower snapped back into focus around Jieyuan just as the blood-red sphere disappeared inside his chest.

Besides him, Daojue, and Anren, there were only three others left in the Heavenly Hall, all of them Absolute Sword Sect disciples. Ronglie, the woman originally from the Whirling Wind Sect, was one of them; she’d made it to the end, just like Jieyuan had guessed she would.

He wasn’t surprised Ronglie was looking over at them. Not at him, exactly, but at a spot just to his side.

“So?” Anren said, from his left. “How did it go?”

Jieyuan turned to her, taking in her earnest dark eyes, her curious expression. Ronglie’s words rang in his head again. The mystery of who Anren really was.

No, not the time. Not now.

“Blood,” he said.

Something flashed past Anren’s face—something so fast, so fleeting, Jieyuan didn’t get a good look at it, and wondered if he’d just imagined it.

“Interesting,” Anren said. She looked intrigued, her tone thoughtful. Jieyuan searched her face, but he saw nothing odd in her expression. “It’s a common enough Concept here; it appears often, particularly to those with bloodrights. It’s a powerful Concept, too.”

“Powerful?”

“Hmm? There’s much more to blood than just the substance. It encompasses many other meanings: legacy, inheritance, sacrifice, power. It’s high up there, in the heavenly hierarchy.”

“I like the sound of that,” Jieyuan said. “I just don’t see why it picked me; it’s not the Concept I was expecting.”

The best explanation he had for Blood choosing him was the Fatebloom Heart. He recalled, from its creator’s jade books, that there were three Concepts it was connected to. One was, of course, Fate. Another was Wood. The third was Blood.

It was hardly a perfect theory, though. Wood hadn’t appeared in any of his Heavenly Selections. And Fate, which was clearly Fatebloom Heart’s main Concept, had appeared very early on. It didn’t make much sense for Blood to appear now, at the very end.

“The ways of the Heavens are not for men to fathom,” Anren said in mock seriousness, like she was quoting some ancient proverb. She snorted. “I wouldn’t worry overmuch. Just focus on making it through. That’s the only thing that matters. What Concept were you expecting, anyway?”

Jieyuan saw no harm in telling her. “Authority.”

Anren frowned. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that one.”

“I thought there was a Concept for everything?” Jieyuan asked.

“That’s… not entirely accurate, though true enough,” Anren said, gesturing dismissively. “But what I meant was that I don’t think anyone’s ever pursued that one. Why did you think it’d select you?”

“One of my realmskills is derived from it,” Jieyuan said. “My first one.”

“Hmm. Well, it’s like I said; don’t bother trying to figure out the Heavens. It’s a waste of time.”

“I guess,” Jieyuan said. “But what about you? What was your pick this stage?”

“Oh. Hmm. Sword.” Anren gave a cheeky smile, like she'd just told a joke.

Jieyuan thought it over, but he couldn’t figure out the reason for her smile. Only one thing stood out for him. “That’s a bit different from your other Concepts so far.”

All her other picks had been pretty abstract.

“A bit,” Anren agreed, still smirking. But she didn’t elaborate; she looked past him, at Daojue, who, as usual, had been silently observing from Jieyuan’s other side. “What about you, Daojue?”

A pause. One that stretched so long that Anren’s smile slipped. But then Daojue said, “Chroma.”

Anren stilled, eyes going wide. She recovered quickly, but there was intensity to her gaze now that hadn’t been there before. “Chroma?” She sounded like she couldn’t believe it.

Daojue said nothing.

Jieyuan was rather startled, himself. “Chroma,” he repeated, tasting the word and finding it rather bitter. “I didn’t even know that was an option.”

Chroma was the foundation of the world. It was the source of all of a cultivator’s powers, the very thing that made them cultivators. If Blood was a powerful Concept, then Chroma no doubt far outstripped it.

“That’s because it’s not supposed to be one,” Anren said. Even her posture was different now, her words more measured, an odd glint in her eyes. “It’s a Concept, yes. And a well-known one. But I don’t believe anyone has ever successfully pursued it before. And, trust me, there have been attempts. Chroma affinity only exists in theory, as far as I know.”

Jieyuan had never seen her act this way; there was a presence to her, a weight, that hadn’t been there even when she’d been telling him about the Tianzijun Clan and how they were hated and feared by just about the entire world.

Daojue still didn’t say a word, only looking back at Anren with a gaze just as intense as hers.

It was Anren who broke the stare-off, shaking her head in clear exasperation. “The two of you… Unbelievable. It seems the Metal Heart Sect has some interesting times ahead of it.”

It took Jieyuan a moment to understand what she was talking about, to recall that as far as Anren knew, he and Daojue were from that sect. Daojue’s lie from the very beginning of the trial was holding up surprisingly well, all things considered.

Anren moved her gaze to Jieyuan. “I’ve read some accounts about Blood’s pursuit and challenge phases, just in case I ended up picking it. I’ll tell you what I know; it might help you later.”

Jieyuan knew he’d been right not to confront Anren just yet.

—∞—

Stepping inside the Heavenly Room, Jieyuan found himself in a red landscape.

It wasn’t red like Fire’s challenge phase; that had been a room of red stone. But it wasn’t too far from it, either, because he was now in a plain of red rock. Barren and burgundy, stretching in all directions.

The sky was red, too. A deep, crimson expanse, flecked with drifting clouds of scarlet, bright against the darker backdrop. No signs of stars or sun; it was like the sky itself radiated light, bathing the burgundy rocks beneath in its crimson light.

There was nothing to be seen in this strange, red-shaded world except for a small pool just a few feet away from Jieyuan.

It was perfectly circular, maybe a dozen yards across. Unsurprisingly, it was filled with a red liquid. Red and still, though something about it gave Jieyuan the impression of viscousness.

It didn’t take a genius, Jieyuan reckoned, to figure out what it was. Even more so given the context.

Jieyuan stared at the pool, then looked back up. He turned a full circle, scanning the red horizons, confirming there was indeed nothing else around.

Then he focused back on the pool of blood. He approached, the Shifting Feathers in hand, ready to fight in case anything jumped out of it. In some of the pursuit phases, he’d had to consciously start things off; in others, he’d been in the first difficulty from the moment he walked through the door. It paid to be careful.

Still, nothing happened as he reached the foot of the pool. He stared down at it. He had no sense of depth; the pool could be anywhere from an inch-deep groove in the ground to a thousand-mile trench.

“So,” Jieyuan murmured, “what now?”

Anren had gone over with him several different variations of Blood’s pursuit phase, but none of them had involved a Blood pool.

Something prodded at his mind. A presence, coming from inside him. Jieyuan’s heart skipped.

Huaxin?

But as he focused on the presence, he realized that wasn’t the case; it wasn’t the Fatebloom Heart, though the presence came from the same place as it.

Jieyuan’s awareness brushed the Blood sphere, sitting in his chest.

Insideinsideinsideinsideinside.

Startled, Jieyuan pulled away. He’d communicated with Concepts before, but never to this extent; not even Fire had been so clear, so loud. Not just that, none of the Concepts had taken the initiative before; it was always him reaching out to them first, not the other way around.

Blood hadn’t stopped its attempts to communicate; if anything, its presence in his mind had only gotten stronger. He didn’t even need to focus on it anymore to connect with it, to read its intent.

Normally, he’d follow along with whatever the Concept wanted him to do. Pleasing the Concept was the whole point of the pursuit phase, after all. But there were just too many odd things about the situation.

Eying the pool warily, Jieyuan focused on the future, drawing on Path Glimpse Divination, envisioning himself going inside the pool.

Nothing happened. He didn’t feel that vague, intuitive sense of time, of possibility; his mind kept reaching for it, but it was like trying to grasp for something that just wasn’t there.

That was a first, and not a welcome one.

Worse, if one soulskill was unavailable…

Jieyuan reached for Twin Serpent Cognition. Again, he came up blank. He stared down at his hands and confirmed he was indeed holding the Shifting Feathers. He tried to activate the soulskill one more time, envisioned—willed—his mind being duplicated, his control over his body being split.

Nothing.

One by one, Jieyuan tried out all the other soulskills he’d gotten in the Sword Tower. None of them worked.

All the while, Blood’s presence grew bigger, stronger inside him. It was still urging him to go inside the pool, but there was something else to it now. An undercurrent, a feeling underlying its incessant urging. A bit sour, a bit bitter, a bit hollow. It took Jieyuan a moment to place it. Jealousy?

The more he found out about the situation, the more confused Jieyuan became. But he’d pretty much exhausted his options, and if he didn’t raise his affinity with Blood to seventh-order within the next few days, he’d be killed by the Sword Tower’s ego. There was nothing to it, then, except to comply.

Bracing himself, Jieyuan dipped one boot in the pool.

The blood rippled sluggishly as his foot broke the surface. The liquid was surprisingly warm, about body temperature. It soaked his robes and wrapped around his boots.

It didn’t act up, though. Nothing odd happened. The pool of blood, warmth aside, seemed to be just a pool of blood. Normal, or at least as normal as a blood pool could be.

Inside him, Blood crowed with pleasure. But it was not satisfied yet.

Moremoremoremoremoremore.

It was like a kid, tugging on his hand, pointing at the pool, blinking up at him with large, sweet, red eyes.

Jieyuan pulled his foot back, drops of blood splattering against the rocky ground. He studied the blood-soaked boot and hem of his robes. Then, assured everything was in order, he sat down by the edge of the pool, then slowly started lowering himself into it, starting with both his feet, then his legs.

He was rather surprised to find it only reached up to his mid-thighs. He’d expected it to turn out to be bottomless. Pushing off the edge, he fully entered the pool.

The blood was a thick, warm weight around him. He breathed in its sharp, metallic tang. It was thick and full, and seemed to expand in his mouth, as if he was sucking on cotton. The smell wasn’t nearly as bad as he would have expected, though; in fact, there was something almost sweet to it.

He got a strong feeling of contentment from the Blood sphere, like a long sigh released after an eternity. But it didn’t seem done with its demands just yet; now it was urging him to go lower, to submerge himself in blood.

Jieyuan wasn’t all that keen on it.

But he didn’t see anything else he could do.

In for copper, in for gold.

Slowly, still at the edge of the pool, he sat down; he was left with the blood reaching as high as his neck, his chin brushing against the surface. The smell was even stronger, this close, but no less pleasant for it.

Only then did he sense that Blood was fully satisfied. Its presence didn’t recede; it was still strong in his mind. Stronger than before, even. But now it wasn’t trying to get him to do anything. Rather, it seemed perfectly content, like it’d achieved all it had set out to do and was now basking in the results.

Well, at least someone’s happy.

Legs crossed, back straight, the Shifting Feathers resting on his lap, Jieyuan sat there, waiting for something to happen.

Nothing changed. The blood pool stayed warm and dense and tranquil around him. The Blood sphere stayed satisfied. He stayed confused.

First difficulty? he tried, directing the thought to Blood.

A soft ripple ran through the pool, originating from the middle. Jieyuan tensed, hands clenching around the Shifting Feathers.

But nothing else happened.

He gave it a few more moments.

Absolutely nothing changed.

First difficulty, he tried again.

This time, he didn’t even get a ripple.

The feeling he got from Blood didn’t change, either. Just pure satisfaction.

Second difficulty.

Another ripple; Jieyuan braced himself—and nothing. Like before, all that happened was the ripple.

Still, the ripples should at least indicate he was changing the difficulty.

Third difficulty.

Another ripple, again followed by absolutely nothing else.

Fourth difficulty.

Jieyuan’s expectations were a bit higher this time; the fourth difficulty always introduced a significant change, rather than an incremental one.

And yet.

Nothing. Just the ripple.

If Jieyuan had been confused before, he was well and truly stumped now.

He went through the remaining difficulties, fifth through tenth, giving a minute between each increase to see if something happened.

All that had happened was six more ripples, minor disturbances in the pool

Rather unsettled, Jieyuan focused on Blood again.

Eleventh difficulty.

A ripple.

Nothing else.

He was in the eleventh difficulty, and rather than fighting for his life, struggling to survive, he was sitting in a nice, comfortable pool of blood and doing absolutely nothing.

And, somehow, it had the same effect; when he focused on Blood, he could feel his affinity with it steadily climbing at the right rate for the eleventh difficulty. Within about fifteen hours, he’d reach first-order affinity.

Jieyuan just couldn’t believe it could be this easy, though. It was absurd. Even more so when he had an idea of what it should have been like, from Anren’s recountings.

He sent his focus inward, trying to see if something about himself had changed; he hadn’t felt anything so far, but maybe there was some hidden danger to the situation. Maybe the blood was poisonous or corrosive and was steadily destroying his body, or it was changing him in some other, harmful way.

He was hoping to find something, in fact, because this seemed too good to be true.

And he did find something. It wasn’t danger, though. Far from it. Rather, it was a distant but distinct feeling, not quite a presence but a phantom sensation. It was suspiciously familiar.

This can’t be…

Jieyuan focused on it, and suddenly he could sense the blood around him. Its presence registered vaguely; he could tell roughly how much blood there was in the pool, that it didn’t belong to any particular person, and that it didn’t have any special properties, that it was just blood.

A soulskill.

He snorted, disbelieving.

As if just sitting around and raising his Blood affinity wasn’t enough. He’d also gotten a new soulskill to go with it.

What in the Heavens?

—∞—

Jieyuan reappeared in the Heavenly Hall.

Nothing about it had changed. It was still a massive, circular metal chamber, with hundreds of doors lining the walls. He would have grown sick of the sight long ago if he hadn’t come to associate the hall with his survival, given how often he’d had to escape back here mid-pursuit.

But something about it was different—or perhaps something about Jieyuan himself, not in the Heavenly Hall but in how he saw it.

This would be his last time here. The seventh stage’s pursuit phase was over. Next, he’d face Blood’s challenge.

The challenge. The thought of it filled Jieyuan not quite with dread, but with something very close to it. The Heavens knew he had absolutely no idea what to expect, given what the pursuit phase had been like.

And then that’d be it. If he survived the trial, he should find himself back in the cave of the Primordial, Muyeshen. Assuming the Plunderer kept his word, of course.

Jieyuan ignored the flutters of motion at both sides of him. Instead, he focused on the center of the room, where the Sword Tower’s ego appeared out of thin air.

The spirit looked no different. The same plain steel-gray robes, the same awfully long, straight, steel-gray hair. And the same steely, handsome face, twin to the Plunderer’s except for the eyes: dull and steel-gray where the Plunderer’s had been bright silver."

“You have one hour before the challenge,” the Sword Tower’s ego announced. Its flat, dull tone was the same as it’d been the last six times it’d given that particular announcement. “Prepare yourselves.”

It disappeared.

Jieyuan’s gaze dipped down to where Ronglie stood by the door almost opposite his, on the other side of the room. The other two Absolute Sword Sect disciples were gone.

So that was it: four finalists.

“Well,” Anren said from his left. “We made it.”

“We did,” Jieyuan agreed.

She wasn’t wearing her usual easy smile; she looked serious, grave. Their eyes met. She held his gaze for a long moment, unreadable. An unseen pressure built between them.

Then she gave him a soft, sweet smile. The tension wasn’t broken, though; it was still there, blunted, but still filling the air with a solemnity he only half-understood.

“I believe congratulations are in order,” she said, “for making it to the end.”

He might’ve felt a bit more pride if the last pursuit phase hadn’t been so bizarrely easy. Suspicious circumstances or not, though, he’d succeeded where hundreds of violetsouls had failed. That counted for something. He smiled back. “Same to you.”

She congratulated Daojue next; Jieyuan wasn’t surprised to find Ronglie looking over from across the hall. She was too far away to tell for certain, but he felt she wasn’t looking at Anren this time, but at him. Probably wondering why he hadn’t confronted Anren about her identity yet.

“You seem rather composed, Jieyuan,” Anren said, drawing his attention back. “Blood’s pursuit phase wasn’t all that hard?”

“You could say that,” Jieyuan said.

He’d had nothing to do except think while sitting in the pool of blood. He’d gone back to the Heavenly Hall a few times, just to make sure nothing was messing with his mind inside the Heavenly Room, but that was it. He'd spent six days doing nothing but soaking in blood.

During that time, he’d decided to keep his unusual pursuit phase to himself. Getting one soulskill after another was already odd enough, but he could still argue he was just that lucky. He could not, on the other hand, explain away how pathetically easy Blood’s pursuit phase had been.

He'd already given Anren enough reason to suspect something was up with him. He didn’t need to add to that. Even more so now that he wasn’t so sure she was who she claimed to be.

“What about a soulskill?” Anren asked. “Did you get one?”

“I did.”

She didn’t look surprised in the least. “What does it do?”

Jieyuan wasn’t so sure himself; he’d done plenty of experimenting in the pursuit phase, but he hadn’t found out much. He suspected he would need someone else to test it with—to test it on—to figure out what his soulskill could really do. “Sensing blood, I think.”

“That’s it?”

“As far as I can tell.”

“Hmmm. And you, Daojue? Did you get a soulskill from Chroma?”

“No,” Daojue said.

Anren looked disappointed. “A pity.”

Jieyuan agreed. A Chroma soulskill would have been something.

A petty part of him was glad, though. Daojue was strong enough as he was; even now, having grown so much since the start of the trial, Jieyuan doubted he was Daojue’s match. Even more so considering Daojue had attained greater deathwilling—which, if Anren’s descriptions were true, should far outstrip any of Jieyuan’s new soulskills.

They talked about the upcoming challenges; Anren shared with Jieyuan what some of Blood’s challenges had been like, and also talked about Sword’s challenges she knew of. She even managed to pry some details from Daojue about his pursuit phase (it’d involved cultivation and chroma manipulation) and came up with a few different ideas for what Chroma’s challenge could be like.

Jieyuan doubted the information would help, given how his pursuit phase had gone. Still, he welcomed the distraction.

Soon the hour had passed. The Sword Tower’s ego reappeared, said, “Proceed to the Heavenly Rooms,” and was gone again.

Jieyuan had wondered if it would act any differently, since this would be the very last announcement. But no, it was business as usual.

“This is it,” Anren said. “Best of luck, you two.”

“You as well,” Jieyuan said, while Daojue just watched her. Across the hall, Jieyuan saw that Ronglie hadn’t left, her eyes still on them.

Anren walked over to the nearest door. Jieyuan opened his mouth to speak, but Daojue beat him to it.

“Anren,” he said.

Jieyuan turned to his friend, surprised. Anren looked a bit startled, too.

Daojue spoke around Anren more often than he did with anyone else. But he’d never called her name like this before. Daojue always went straight to the point and spoke with purpose.

“Daojue?” Anren asked.

Jieyuan looked between them. Daojue’s expression was determined and intense.

“We will meet again,” Daojue said.

Anren blinked and stared, then smirked. “What, was there ever any question?” She laughed. “This isn’t the last you’ve seen of me.”

Shaking her head, she turned back toward the door.

“Anren.” This time it was Jieyuan.

Anren turned back again. She fixed Jieyuan with a curious look. “You too?”

Jieyuan stared into her eyes, searching. “You aren’t really from the Whirling Winds Sect, are you?”

Anren looked past him, at something behind him. Someone, in fact. Ronglie. Then she returned her attention to him.

“Hmmm.” Anren’s eyes gleamed, mischievous. Her smile widened. “I wonder.”

Daojue was as still and as silent as a statue.

She looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, “Where do you think I’m from, then?”

Jieyuan considered everything he knew about her. How exceptional she was, to have made it this far. She was clearly not from the Whirling Wind Sect; she’d all but admitted it now.

And when he’d asked her about what her Concept was this stage, the strange smile she wore when she said Sword, like she knew something nobody else did…

The way she’d admitted to having a bloodright, but looked perfectly mundane… The way she never told him her family name…

“You’re from the Absolute Sword Sect, aren’t you?”

A ripple ran through Anren’s eyes, starting from the pupil, black lightening to gray.

Even though Jieyuan had guessed it, he still felt a little startled. Anren looked different, with gray eyes. They fit her, though, and suddenly he had no idea how she’d ever looked right without them. It was like Daojue with his violet eyes.

“Right in one,” Anren said.

“Why did you lie?” Jieyuan asked.

She shook her head, still smiling, and Jieyuan already knew what she’d say before the words left her mouth. “It’s a secret.” Then she gave him a knowing look. “And you—you aren’t really from the Metal Heart Sect, are you? Neither of you.”

Jieyuan shrugged. “Guilty as charged.”

“Care to tell me where you’re actually from?” Anren asked.

“Hmmm.” Jieyuan adopted a thoughtful look, and judging from the way Anren’s smile widened, he could tell she knew what he was about to say. “It’s a secret.”

She chuckled. “I earned that one. Guess I’ll just have to look for the two of you, then,” Anren said. She paused and gave Daojue a sly glance. “Unless you find me first, of course. We’ll see.”

She walked over to her door, grasped the handle. She shot them one last parting smile. “Until we meet again, Jieyuan, Daojue.”

Then, without waiting for a reply, she opened the door and disappeared into her Heavenly Room.

Jieyuan looked across the hall where Ronglie still stood, her eyes on them. She was holding a door open, but hadn’t gone inside yet. Like she was waiting for something.

Jieyuan waved at her. There was a pause. Then she raised her arm and gave him a little wave back. She lingered a moment longer, then walked into her Heavenly Room.

And just like that, only he and Daojue were left in the hall.

Jieyuan glanced at Daojue, then reached out and grasped his shoulder.

“See you again in the cave, yeah?”

Daojue didn’t reply, but neither did he try to move Jieyuan's hand away, only regarding him coolly and steadily.

Jieyuan drew his hand back and walked off. Reaching his door, he opened it. Just as he was about to step inside, Daojue’s voice came from behind him. “Be careful.”

Jieyuan froze, glanced back at Daojue.

Then he nodded, once, firmly, before entering the Heavenly Room.