Beware Of Chicken
chapter-ep

In a secure storage room in the Shrouded Mountain Sect, two Inquisitors worked in grim silence, dissecting a ruined corpse. Their bodies were completely covered in cloth, faces covered with protective masks, and defensive talismans on their bodies, just in case. Notes were written down, hypotheses created and counter techniques devised and discarded.

They worked with precision, their eyes completely focused upon the subject, for they could produce only the best results for their Masters and the Sect.

When they were done, they placed seals upon the corpse and called in their relief. Two new Inquisitors entered the room as the others exited, standing guard.

The room was silent and cold, but they were unaffected. They had the utmost vigilance in their duties. Lightning crackling around their bodies intermittently, ready to dispel illusions.

Until suddenly, their eyes went blank, though they still stood at attention, their lightning crackling.

The shadows of the room started to bubble and a woman slid out of them. Clad entirely in black, with a veil over her face, Qi suppressors worn upon her body. She took a moment to look at the guards and smirk in satisfaction. Of course the poison had worked. It was a technique of the Master’s. However, it did come with some drawbacks. Utterly useless in direct combat. The only reason it was working at all at the moment was the stable Qi of the room—if she even moved too fast, if a bare breeze ghosted across their skin, the technique would fail.

She carefully approached the corpse, acting with the utmost subtlety. Her fingers flashed through arcane signs and one of the seals peeled back slightly.

The woman let out a breath. The most delicate stage of the operation was over.

It was time to collect the wayward disciple.

The woman pressed her fingers against the corpse, directing her Qi to gather the remnants of Lu Ban and shake what was left of him out of his torpor—the woman paused as her sense extended through the corpse. It felt… odd. She pushed her ghostly Qi further into the body.

Pulling her fingers back, the woman stared at the tiny motes of oil and blood clinging to them.

“You’re… actually dead?” she asked, half amused and half incredulous. Really, he hadn’t internalized even the basest of Master’s abilities? The little bastard should still be alive.

There was only a tiny, lingering feeling, a grudge, and nothing more. Not enough to reconstruct anything. No true part of what was once Lu Ban.

The woman sighed in irritation. At first she had gone to Yellow Rock Plateau, the site of the impact. There had been nothing there but scorched rock. She had then checked the populace in the immediate surrounding area… and no peasant had suddenly decided to up and leave after coming back from the mountain, Lu Ban’s essence having taken them over.

She had expected that, even if captured, he would be able to survive after feigning his own death. One who had learned the Twilight Cuckoo’s Triumph was said to have a hundred lives.

The woman scoffed. A waste of resources and time.

She placed the little piece of grudge residue in a vial. Perhaps it could still be useful. A poison for a father? Zang Zeng of the Shrouded Mountain Sect, poked and prodded to avenge the wrongful death of his son? That could work. Still, how utterly disappointing, to come all this way for what amounted to nothing more than a simple ingredient. She placed the vial within her robes. Master would have been disappointed.

He had once had high hopes for Lu Ban.

It took over an hour to replace the broken seals to perfection, exactly as they had been upon the corpse. She swept the room for any sign of her passing. Then, she melted back into the shadows.

The men’s eyes returned to focus. Their watch resumed, uninterrupted. Then, six hours later, they were relieved in turn.

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The village of Hong Yaowu was beginning to bring in the last of the harvest. The trees looked to be starting to turn, and the air had notes of cold in it. Mist clung to everything. Summer was finally ending.

Xong Ten Ren and his wife worked together, without their sons, for the first time in twenty years. They dressed the hides and sorted out cuts of dried meat.

It was a bit lonely, but their boys had said that they would be around soon.

And that was enough.

The day had been a quiet one so far, a routine that they had done for decades.

Then there was a bit of commotion at the road leading to Verdant Hill. The children noticed the stranger first, but unlike when Jin had arrived, they were apprehensive. A form slid out of the mists, gliding like a wraith along the ground. A large hat on her head, like fishermen wore, contrasted heavily with the robes of finest silk draped over her frame, yet the strangest thing about the mist-clad woman was the bulbous contraption on her back, the vents on it glowing with heat.

She strode in without hesitation, unstoppable and indomitable, moving with absolute purpose much like an incoming fogbank.

The people stared with trepidation at this stranger, and she paused in the center of the village. She pulled off her hat, revealing beautiful, sharp features and wavy hair.

Several people gasped at her beauty as her eyes scanned the villagers. Ten Ren watched curiously… until her searching gaze landed on him.

The woman’s eyes narrowed and her march resumed, striding directly towards him and his wife. She ignored absolutely everybody else, and several people stepped out of her way as she neared Ten Ren’s house.

The woman stopped in front of them.

“Are you Xong Ten Ren and Nezin Hu Li?” the woman asked imperiously. “The parents of Xong Gou Ren?”

Ten Ren swallowed at the haughty expression on the cultivator and the blunt question. She had a presence about her, a physical weight that could not be denied. He noticed one of the villagers start to slink in the direction of the road to Jin’s house.

Ten Ren licked his lips. He made a motion to his wife; should things go wrong, she would attempt to run. “I am Ten Ren. Who asks for me?”

The woman nodded… and then bowed at ninety degrees.

“This Liu Xianghua asks to court your son!” her voice boomed. “Allow me to call you mother and father!”

There was silence in the village.

Hu Li dropped the hides she was holding.

Pandemonium erupted.

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Two old men stood upon a mountain. Their faces were carved from stone as they rested together.

Shen Yu handed Brother Ge a scroll.

“Unfortunate,” the man muttered, staring at the crossed off locations.

Even with Shen Yu cutting loose, the Demons were annoyingly tenacious and they’d gotten good at hiding. From inhospitable mountaintops to poisonous bogs, the two had ventured everywhere they could think of, laying waste to their enemies as they went.

It had been surprisingly liberating, almost like old times. Ge by his side, going on a grand adventure.

They had even found a Silver Yin Lotus! They had shared a cup of its dew together, finding a treasure that had eluded them all those years ago. Shen Yu chuckled. To think that failed quest would be a mere side note on this one.

It was still taking a very, very long time. Too long, Shen Yu worried.

“Are you sure your man will find him?” Shen Yu asked.

“I have faith in the Senior Disciple. He withstood the full force of my intent without flinching. He will not rest until he finds him—”

There was a swirl of shadow and a messenger stepped forth, dropping to one knee before them and raising up a message tube.

“Masters. This one brings word from a Disciple Lu Ri. He has accomplished his mission and returns with a missive from Jin Rou.”

Shen Yu’s eyes widened. Elder Ge nodded, vindicated.

“See? Speak of a man and he shall appear.”

“Lu Ri, you said his name was? I shall reward him personally for this,” Shen Yu declared.

He held out his hand and the message tube was carefully placed in his hand.

Shen Yu wondered what it would say. Rou had been injured badly as a result of Shen Yu’s advice and the Cloudy Sword Sect. Would the letter be full of vitriol? Would it be a condemnation? He would not blame Little Rou if it was. Shen Yu opened the tube—

And horse dung popped out, some trick causing it to spray all over his robes.

Elder Ge and the messenger froze as Shen Yu stared at the droppings. The smell hit his nose as he picked up a scrap of paper that had come out with the dung, a stylized smiling face upon it.

His stern facade cracked.

Shen Yu began to howl with laughter.

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