Chapter 78: UNSAFE BETS

CHAPTER

78

UNSAFE BETS

JIEYUAN

—∞—

As far as Jieyuan knew, nobody had managed to escape on a cloudcraft yet.

They’d barely gotten a dozen feet up when he experienced firsthand why.

The sequence hit—just before a volley of gleamstone blades erupted from below.

Maeva—acting on the sequence—wrenched the cloudcraft sharply to the side, then to the other as another barrage of blades tore upwards at them, all the while continuing their rise, climbing higher and higher.

Jieyuan let go of Meiyao and slashed both Shifting Feathers down, deflecting two of the blades that Maeva couldn’t dodge. Beside him, Daojue met the assault head-on, Gleaming End flashing in wide, brutal arcs that shattered the projectiles.

Meiyao stayed back, not contributing—she wasn’t in any condition to, wounded as she was. And Jieyuan was already more than happy with her just staying on the cloud rather than jumping off it.

Cloudcrafts were fast. A third and fourth volley came at them at the same time, but by then they were already too far up in the air and none of the blades came close.

Jieyuan kept his eyes trained on the battlefield.

The street looked as bad from above as it had from ground-level. Scarlet streaks flashed as other cloudcrafts tried to rise from among the rolling smoke—but they were all struck down immediately, swallowed by tides of gleamstone blades. No telling whether they’d been pursuers struck down by the Liangshibai, or Liangshibai struck down by traitors within the sect.

Somewhere down there was Yongyi—dying, if not already dead.

Jieyuan focused on the spot they’d been at, scouring it for some glimpse of him—but nothing. Smoke had already claimed that side of the street, swirling and twisting violently as the tenth-signs waged war within.

His last clear glimpse of the street was Qingshi and Palace Head Yiming, clashing again and again at the center of it all, isolated from the rest, gleamstone barriers blinking into existence all over around them.

Then came the smoke—it had gathered in the sky above, and they flew straight into it.

Thick. Cloying. The taste of rot and ashes filled his throat. For a few harrowing moments, the world vanished into swirling, sweltering gray—and then they burst free into open air.

And down below—

Jieyuan stared. He’d suspected—knew, at some level, but—

Fire. Fire and smoke. Blue and gray. Blue flames rolling, twisting, churning amid the rising gray smoke.

Fire and smoke and nothing else. No Radiant Gold City—the city he’d grown up in, proud, golden, designed to perfection. The only hints of brightgold were on the far walls enclosing the city, now looking like a golden dam around an ocean of flame.

The fire wasn’t normal. That he could feel its heat was proof enough, never mind that it could burn brightgold. But at no point had he caught it with his soulsense, not even when it was well within range, back during their ascent.

This wasn’t Redsoul fire. This was something else—higher-realm.

If there was any doubt about it before, then this settled it for good. The Gleaming Nobles and the Xiyunfeng Clan hadn’t done this alone. They had Orangesoul help—at least Orangesoul.

He focused on the Fatebloom Heart and—

Only seconds left. Seconds.

Heavens take it. He checked his soulprism next—and found just a bit of attuned chroma swirling inside his soul. Barely a smidgen. A fraction of a prismful—and a small one at that.

He looked past the city—or what was left of it, at any rate.

Far in the distance were the Gleaming Stone Mountains—and in the opposite direction… the Viridian Dome.

It loomed—not in the horizon, but the horizon itself. Eerie and massive, glowing with dark green light. At its base was the faint corona of the Viridian Death Forest—the outer part of it, wrapped around the dome like a ring, and alight with its own duller, darker glow.

In all other directions, all that could be seen were empty stretches of grasslands, hills, and groves. Somewhere beyond—farther than he could see—lay the seat of the Xiyunfeng Clan, and even farther out there would be other cities, other sects.

He didn’t have enough chroma left in him to reach the Gleaming Stone Mountains, let alone these faraway places. And there was no guarantee that even if they could get to the sect they’d be safe. It was a matter of seconds before some of the enemy managed to take to the air, and they’d have pursuers hot on their heels.

No pursuer would gain on them—cloudcrafts all had the same top speed, regardless of who controlled them—but the moment he ran out of chroma, they’d be back on the ground—and then the pursuers would be upon them in a snap.

If they went for the Viridian Dome, though… Nobody would be following them inside. Not when it was a death sentence in geographical form.

A death sentence—but maybe not to them.

He guessed at the distance. It was much closer than the Gleaming Stone Mountains. It’d be tight, very tight… But he might have enough chroma to get them over to it.

But that didn’t matter if they’d die inside. He needed a better idea of the odds.

Huaxin? Do you think—

AFFIRMATION.

The reply came instantly, positive—but Jieyuan wasn’t exactly assured. There was a dark, ominous undercurrent to it. A foreboding tone that words couldn’t convey.

Even worse, Jieyuan could also sense a tinge of uncertainty in it.

He clenched his teeth. It’d have to do.

Maeva didn’t need to be told. She steered the cloudcraft toward the green horizon.

They were on course for barely a second, wind whipping at them, aura-lashing the only thing holding them down—when all the strength and energy fled Jieyuan, abruptly and totally. Like his body had gone hollow, drained of everything.

He staggered back almost the edge—but just as he was tipping backwards, off the cloud, two pairs of hands grabbed at him, pulling him back in, holding him up, in place.

He inhaled slowly, shaking, before he steadied himself. If aura-lashing wasn’t something instinctive he’d have been blown straight out into the air.

Daojue released him. Meiyao didn’t. She kept a firm grip on his shoulder, studying his face. “What happened—” she shouted over the howling wind.

“Later,” Jieyuan gasped out, hoarsely.

He fought back the exhaustion and forced himself to think—to get his mind moving again.

Fatebloom Sacrifice was over. And with it… He checked, just to be sure, hoping against hope—but he couldn’t feel Huaxin at all.

So that’s that.

He glanced down, and saw the burning city was already long behind them, and in the other direction—the Viridian Dome, becoming larger and larger, swallowing even more of the landscape, as the distance between them rapidly shrunk.

He took another steadying breath, then nodded to Meiyao, who only then let go. Then he took a tentative step forward—and then another, and then another, until he was standing at the front of the cloudcraft, beside Maeva. Facing the Dome ahead.

Another deep breath. He focused on the cloudcraft beneath his feet.

Maeva gave him a long, worried look, but said nothing as she turned control of the cloudcraft over to him. There was a brief stutter, and then it was flying smoothly again.

Thank you, he sent her.

“Don’t die, Amyas,” she said—her voice impossibly clear and sharp through the wind.

Not planning on it, sis.

He cut off Absolute Will Command, and she winked out of existence. If he wanted to get through this, he’d need to hold onto as much of his chroma as possible. Every single second counted.

Meiyao stepped up beside him, staring ahead, hair and robes billowing madly in the rushing wind. Her expression was hard, tight. She said something, but he couldn’t hear it over all the noise.

She frowned, and a red barrier—physicalized chroma— appeared in front of them, anchored to the cloudcraft, breaking the wind. Jieyuan would’ve marveled at how fast she’d done it, at her control, if he wasn’t too busy trying to keep himself on his feet and the cloudcraft flying. “Yongyi—” she said, and this time he heard her clearly.

Not just heard her—he saw it again, the shrouded blade sticking out of Yongyi’s chest—and then Yongyi’s being flung aside, limply, like an object.

He took a deep breath.

“Nothing we could’ve done,” he forced out.

Meiyao set her jaw, worked it, not looking at him. Ahead, the Viridian Dome grew bigger and bigger. Her eyes gleamed, moist. Then she said, stiffly, “You’re taking us to the Dome.”

“I am,” he said. Normally he’d have been glad for a shift in topic, but this one wasn’t much better.

Daojue still stood further behind, unmoving, saying nothing.

“Why?” Meiyao said.

“It’s our best bet.”

Now she turned to face him. He kept on looking straight ahead.

“It’s certain death,” she said.

“No. It’s uncertain death,” Jieyuan said.

He paused to work out the words, trying to get through the sluggish haze his mind was in. It was like wading through syrup, and the way his was attention divided between the conversation and the cloudcraft didn’t make it any easier.

“What’s… What’s certain is that if we head anywhere else, we’ll get caught,” he went on. “If we head there, we aren’t. And… And there was that bit that Viridian Eye fellow, Houliao, said about seeking the Viridian. I think that’s what he was talking about.”

“Viridian Death Cultists are insane,” Meiyao said. “And nobody’s ever come out. Not even yellowsouls.”

“I said it was our best bet,” Jieyuan said. “Not— Not that it was a safe one.” He felt a little better already, more alert, his augmented stamina already working for him. “But if you’ve got any other ideas, I’m all ears.”

Meiyao fell silent.

But then Daojue spoke—though not about their destination.

“Enemies.”

Jieyuan couldn’t turn around—had to keep looking ahead to steer the cloudcraft—but Meiyao did.

Then she cursed under her breath—something about chipped crystals and rotten wood—and the chroma barrier dropped as she stepped away, taking position just behind him.

Wind buffeted at him again.

“How bad is it?” he shouted over it.

“Four cloudcrafts,” Meiyao shouted back. “No—five.”

There was a sharp ring—and Jieyuan saw bits of crystal fly past his head. Daojue, then, shattering a gleamstone projectile.

They were close enough to the Dome that it swallowed the view—everything ahead a vast, softly glowing expanse of green. But it was an illusion—its sheer scale rendered distance meaningless. They weren’t even at the Outer Forest yet. Still several dozen miles to cover.

It was absurd, the size of the Viridian Dome. He’d had an idea of it—had seen it in drawings, in maps drawn to scale—but seeing it from this close made it real. Or rather, unreal, completely screwing his sense of depth and distance. It hardly even looked like a dome anymore—more of a wall. A massive, never-ending wall.

“DOWN!” Meiyao suddenly shouted.

Jieyuan almost turned back. “What?”

“We can’t”—something he didn’t catch—“not in the sky—LEFT!”

Jieyuan didn’t hesitate, veering the cloud hard.

A blinding beam of light screamed past—a line of pure white, cutting a swath through the sky.

Jieyuan recognized it—a Radiant Light Blast, from the talisman.

Not good. Gleamstone weapons were bad enough, but Daojue could handle them with Gleaming End. A Radiant Light Blast, though—there was no blocking that. It would obliterate them.

“LOWER!” Meiyao shouted. “CAN’T FLY IN!”

Jieyuan didn’t ask questions. He angled the cloudcraft down and they started dropping altitude fast.

It was then that something appeared in the distance. Glowing dark green spots, stark against the lighter shade of the Viridian Dome. One, two, ten—hundreds—thousands—they poured out from the Dome like a flood. Jieyuan squinted, trying to understand what he was seeing.

Then came the screeching. Ear-splitting, so high and loud they dwarfed the howling of the wind. Thousands of echoing screeches, resonating off each other, rising even higher.

The spots grew larger and larger by the second, larger and clearer—and then Jieyuan saw them clearly. Birds. Massive, winged beasts—each one easily three times the size of a man—with glowing feathers, beaks, and talons.