160 - The Cost of War

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Once all the Corruption had been filtered, Qin Yun rose to his feet and approached the barrier once again. He peered into the flailing creature's eyes. They were devoid of any light, just two bottomless pits. The more he looked into the abyss, the more he felt his sanity waver. This Corruption was old—older than anything he had ever witnessed in these lands.

“Talk to me,” he said.

However, the creature merely rambled on incoherently. There were no signs of intelligence, just a never-ending urge to consume. It was relentless, striking against the barrier despite its body being pulverized each time it touched, only to regain its form soon after.

An idea popped into Qin Yun's mind. He retreated. One step, then another, until he had his back against the structure. Only then did the creature stop, becoming dormant once again. Intrigued, Qin Yun stepped forward, and the beast sprung to life again.

It’s not scent or sight... How does it recognize the distance?

Qin Yun knew that despite possessing sensory organs, they were mere imitations. Its nose had no nostrils, and its eyes were completely black. There was not even a tongue in its mouth. Although its form was human, its skin was a purplish grey, and judging by the texture, it was very far from human skin.

Its arms were like vines, and its hair was made of countless slender tentacles, all moving independently, yet they seemed to sway in the non-existent wind. It was unlike any kind of creature Qin Yun had seen before, an amalgam of many different species, a mockery of life.

There are even scales on its legs and fangs on its feet. The Corruption didn't just feed on humans; spiritual beasts and plants were also not spared. It assimilated their features, able to recall them whenever it wished, but not their intelligence. Why not?

Qin Yun couldn’t understand. Why couldn’t it develop intelligence when so many other species could? He supposed the answer would be found in one of the countless books in his possession, but first, he wished to get the lay of the land.

Looking up at the structure, Qin Yun found it resembled none of the architecture indigenous to this land. While most were Eastern inspired, this building was a large mansion of wood, laid on a foundation of stone—something more European inspired, yet not quite there, for there were many other cultures intertwined into this structure, none of them native to this land. They were foreign—just as he was. He even recognized some of them.

“Where did you come from?” he muttered.

Somehow, the structure reminded him of the creature outside the barrier—an amalgam of different eras and locations, even different worlds, all compacted together into something that didn't fit anywhere. He knew not how they came to be, but he had a feeling this was merely coincidental. None of this was meant to be.

The more he stared at the building, the voice in his head began to speak. It was as if something was calling to him, yet he didn't recognize the language. His mind told him he should know, yet he didn't, almost like a veil was draped over his memories, sealed away yet just out of reach. Only when he felt a striking headache assault him did Qin Yun finally turn away.

“Is that why the Heavenly Dao wanted me here? Am I somehow linked to this place?”

Qin Yun paced back and forth, unsure of how to proceed. He knew in his gut the answer to all his questions was to be found in his missing memories, those of his lifetimes in this world he had forgotten.

At first, he believed the Heavenly Dao was responsible, but now? He wasn't so sure anymore. Why would it go to all this trouble to remind him if it could merely give them back—

"—or maybe it can't," Qin Yun muttered. "Maybe it wasn't the one that sealed them away..."

Qin Yun shook his head, driving away the countless questions without answers. Instead, he chose to be more proactive. Seeking answers was all good, but it wouldn't change his situation. He was stranded in a strange land. Far away from where he started. He had no way to return, no link back to his world—at least, none that he knew of.

"Well, let's not lose hope. I doubt this world was made so inconvenient to have no way to travel between each petal. Problem is—" he paused as he scaled the wall, fingertips digging between the stone while pushing against the ground until he reached a high spire at the top of the building. "If anyone managed to leave this place, surely they destroyed whatever means they used to do so."

The building wasn't that high, just three stories high with a single spire overseeing it all. Qin Yun clung to the summit, and despite the grey fog covering the land, Qin Yun could see quite far, for there were no mountains to block the way.

The world was flat—unnaturally so. All mountains had been eroded by time, ground to dust, only to fill the seas and ravines until all that remained were endless plains as far as the eye could see. There were no landmarks to guide the way, only fields of bizarre flowers covering the land and the mysterious building still standing with the shimmering barrier around it.

“I wonder how long ago this world fell.”

Qin Yun talked to himself, hoping only to retain his sanity. He knew all too well what loneliness could do to a man. Being a cultivator wasn't enough to change a human being's essence. They were still affected by human desires, despite many deluding themselves into thinking otherwise, trying to become more than they were meant to be.

The land was calm and peaceful, inert—eerily so. There were no signs of movement, no wind, and no life of any kind. Even the countless flowers weren't technically alive or dead. They were something in between, carefully toeing the line between the two extremes. It was all but an imitation of life, an echo of sorts. And without any outside stimuli, they became dormant, waiting to awaken again.

"This might be why the upper level hasn't fallen yet," Qin Yun mused.

Seeing the inactivity filling the land and the massive gap between each of the lotus petals, Qin Yun believed that once a petal fell, the Corruption would remain contained within, unable to travel through the void. With no more prey to satiate it, the Corruption mainly became dormant, but not all the way.

Just a matter of distance, Qin Yun thought as he looked down at the vile grey creature.

While it looked as if it became still, the creature was still moving, albeit extremely slowly, almost as if it was conserving its strength. There was still so much he didn't know, but his instinct told him the reason why the massive amount of Corruption took all the same form—the one of flowers—was no accident. It had a specific purpose.

He had a hypothesis, but it was too soon to tell.

Qin Yun leapt down from the roof. His feet dug into the dusty soil as he landed a few meters away from the building, waking the strange creature. It began to strike the barrier anew, destroying itself with each hit, but Qin Yun paid no attention.

Instead, he bent down, taking a handful of this soil into his hand. He had been so absorbed in taking in this new environment that he had forgotten to examine something so simple.

This soil wasn't made of dirt but of something dryer and more barren. It wasn't exactly sand, as it didn't feel like ground mineral but more like some kind of inert organic matter. The dirt was grey, just as everything else was, but the ground on this side of the barrier was much paler than the soil the weird plants were growing on.

“Ash?” Qin Yun muttered, pupils widening as the soil touched the tip of his tongue. “Not quite...”

Qin Yun felt the Corruption laced within, yet it felt dead. Qin Yun could taste the remains of organic matter, yet it was so far gone that it was almost all dust, strangely resembling how books had crumbled once he tried to open them.

Wanting to test a theory, Qin Yun threw this handful of dust out of the barrier, only to see it darken and somehow come alive. Dark grey particles soon escaped from the dust while the rest fell to the ground, integrating back into the soil. Those remaining particles flew in the air and entered the creature's mouth as it still mutilated itself by banging on the flickering barrier.

“So it’s as I thought,” Qin Yun sighed. “This sterile field acts as some sort of domain able to counteract the Corruption. However, as it isn’t alive to begin with, all it can do is render it inert. Is that right?”

Qin Yun raised an eyebrow, looking straight into the two voids that served as the creature's eye sockets, but as expected, this wild animal flailing around did not react.

"Just a beast driven by instinct," Qin Yun added, shaking his head. "It's hard to conceive that such an expansive world is on the verge of crumbling, all caused by these foreign invaders. The Corruption doesn't seem driven by malice or the will to dominate this world, but only a single instinct, like any living being—the urge to procreate and survive. It almost feels like a natural disaster, isn’t that right, my friend?”

Qin Yun was now just a few inches from the barrier, close enough to see every detail of this strange creature. Yet, Qin Yun only watched the slight shifts in its facial features, trying to find any signs of intelligence hidden behind those empty eyes, but as expected, there were none. The beast only struck more savagely, destroying itself and then regenerating the closer Qin Yun stepped.

“A corrupted chimera," Qin Yun muttered, entranced by the form the creature had taken. "How about Kai, short for Chimera? Aren't you grateful I gave you a name?"

Qin Yun took another step. He was now touching the edge of the barrier. He could feel the vibration of the partition between them both as the creature struck with all its might, driven by an insatiable urge to consume. And yet, Qin Yun felt no threat from it, for he doubted its current state. He didn't believe a world-shattering phenomenon, such as the spread of Corruption, could rival the Heavenly Dao in the world where it drew its strength.

"Don't you think it strange?" Qin Yun asked, offering a smile. "Of the many leaves and petals that make up this world, only four remain. They may be the most important ones, closest to the Well of Souls, but that isn't enough to stand against the Corruption, not when it has already devastated this many realms. And yet, they are now at a standstill, evenly matched even. What could possibly have prompted such a change?"

Qin Yun paused, observing the creature's reaction. He frowned slightly. While it still mutilated itself against the barrier, Qin Yun could see that the force behind those strikes had lessened, if only somewhat.

"Think about it. The Corruption gains strength as it assimilates more, while the Heavenly Dao does so from the faith of the living beings within these worlds. Isn't that contradictory? How could Corruption acquire a foothold in these conditions? The Heavenly Dao was surely at its strongest when the lotus was whole. How could Corruption possibly contend against it then they are now at a standstill?"

Qin Yun paused again, letting his words hang in the air, then smiled as he noticed a dim flicker deep within the creature's empty orbits.

"If the Heavenly Dao can be considered far from its prime, then it only shows that so too should the Corruption. Along the way, as it ravaged land after land, it somehow lost something important. Where could it have gone? You know what I'm talking about, little creature."

Qin Yun pressed his hand against the barrier and then walked through it. The creature suddenly stopped flailing around and took two full steps back, yet Qin Yun wasn't surprised, for he had already surmised it would do so.

“For whatever reason, you lost a part of yourself, didn’t you?” Qin Yun smiled. “Tell me, oh pitiful beast! The Heavenly Dao wasn’t the only one to suffer in this war. Where has your intellect gone?”

Just as those words left Qin Yun's mouth, the creature, now deemed as Kai, pounced forward, wrath twisting its features.

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