Chapter 46

  Antechamber (II)

  So, remember how I was envious about the climb? And the richness of the mountain slope?

  Yeah. I am apparently quite preemptive about things, as I should have saved all my seething, all my jealousy, and all my bitterness for this very moment.

  Because, by God, I can't put into words just how beautiful this place is.

  Six distinct pavilions, decked out with ornate decorations, crowding around a central plaza with a beautiful, statuesque fountain spewing Spirit Water directly from the source; the unrelenting scent of herbs and flowers nestled behind the pavilions in individual gardens; the perfectly paved ground that was pleasant to walk on; the critters--oh God, so many birds, rabbits, even deer just existing everywhere you looked...

  And then the crown jewel, the Hall of Masters as it was called--a six-story pagoda hovering just a few feet from the ground, gently wobbling up and down like a hum in meditation.

  At its feet was a mist-veiled courtyard, a gentle haze stirring the world around it. Upward it went, its flying eaves and sweeping roofs layered in perfect symmetry. Each upward tier was further recessed, like an immortal ascending, straining skyward as though drawn to the world beyond the skies.

  The ridges of the roofs were further decorated with stylized ornamentation of various beasts and animals--fish, tigers, tortoises...

  At the second-to-last tier were a pair of twin balconied watch platforms jutting out, held up by convoluted bracket complexes. Lantern braziers hung loosely, unlit in midday, untethered to anything--they looked like immortal spirits detached from the pagoda itself, standing watchful over its structure.

  A mountain further stretched behind it, curving out crescent-like as though hugging it and hiding yet another peak behind it.

  Yeah.

  Awe, desire, greed, envy, jealousy... it was like a firework of emotions exploding from within me. Compared to this, I lived in a literal pigsty.

  Then again, compared to this, most Elders likely did.

  There was a bit more 'person presence' at the peak, though not by much.

  "This way," the servant escorted us.

  Dai Xiu was far worse off than me; there were stars in her eyes, and she looked dazed by the mere sight of everything. Long Tao, on the other hand, literally looked like he couldn't care less.

  In fact, I had a sense he was holding back a lazy yawn, his eyes mostly focused on the passing disciples as though he were checking out his competition--no, not competition, but rather prey.

  Makes sense.

  That old monster has probably seen palaces beyond this ken, so far beyond, in fact, that this place would take the role of the pigsty.

  Though I did say that most of the magic of this world lay in its nature, and though I still believe that wholeheartedly, there was now at least one structure to briefly make me doubt it.

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  The architecture itself wasn't particularly magical, mind you--it was very much your standard-fare Eastern-style pagoda, not unlike many to be found back on Earth. But the few fantastical elements and the juxtaposition with the world around it made it seem larger than life.

  Unfortunately, that wasn't where we were headed.

  Instead, the servant took us to the right and into one of the two-story pavilions. It was charming in its own way but more resembled stables next to the castle in front of it.

  The interior was quite... ordinary. Halls tearing out into simple chambers, wallpapers separating them. We were led further and further in, and then even downstairs two levels, until the temperature dropped considerably.

  Torches lit up the view, the descent slow and steep, until we broke out into a rather robustly built tunnel lined with supporting wooden beams holding up its nearly seven-foot-tall ceiling.

  It was just about ten seconds of casual pace later that the tunnel opened up into a vast chamber--round, tall, and domed. Instead of torches, what illuminated it were rocks embedded in the walls, almost seeming like LED lights strategically hidden in the building's facade.

  What drew the eyes, however, was a churn of Qi centralized to the entire chamber. A small moat of water grafted an isolated island of sorts, and atop that island was a... well, it was difficult to pinpoint exactly what it was.

  It wasn't a... structure, I don't think. Stretched swirls of manifested Qi rounded it like howling winds, forging a haze that forbade the peek of the eye. There were vine-like tendrils protruding from the ground, dancing around it like men at worship, dyed in perfect azure.

  And it forged a chill in the air that actually forced me to use Qi to dispel it.

  Unlike me, however, who had this instinctual fear toward the place as though it would swallow me if I entered, the pair of my disciples seemed almost bewitched. Even Long Tao took a moment to collect himself, a frown quickly emerging as though he couldn't believe it.

  "You're here," the voice of Elder Qin brought us all back to reality. The man emerged from the shadows, appearing like a ghost with a smile.

  "Elder Qin," I greeted.

  "Elder Lu. You looked particularly flushed," tsk. This old guy really had a way with the tongue (plus, that self-assured smirk was kind of annoying...).

  "Encumbered indeed, Elder Qin," I fired back, though I only got laughter in return.

  "Ho ho, witty, witty," the old man replied, stroking his chin. I never really understood that, but if I'm to fit into this world... it seems like I'm going to have to learn how to stroke my chin to make it seem as if in deep thought. "Sect Master is unfortunately otherwise occupied, so he asked me to be here. How is the girl doing?"

  "I don't know about the 'girl' part," I shrugged.

  "Hm," Elder Qin nodded. "That girl always gave me the creeps."

  "..."

  "What kind of a child never cries or laughs? Ghost kind, I say. He was asking me to handle her before you showed up."

  "..."

  I hate this guy.

  No, really; this guy's personality is all over the place.

  "Ho ho, don't look so mad; you are vastly more qualified to take care of children than me."

  "... why? Is your hobby murdering kids? Because that's the only way I am even remotely more qualified."

  "That there yonder is Antechamber," he paused for a moment, his eyes shifty, and finally just... moved on. Tsk. "Within it is something... else. Something that stirs and unwinds. Your disciples can enter one by one; however, due to their limited cultivation, they can only spend three seconds in there."

  "You promised ten." I reminded.

  "In total, yes. For now, however, no," it didn't seem as if he was trying to stiff me, but that it was a genuine point of concern.

  "Long Tao, go first," I said; the old monster could probably figure out a way to stay in there forever, so if it's super beneficial and it doesn't suck up any resources...

  "... yes, Master," the old thing must have read my mind because he looked at me oddly for a moment before walking over the singular bridge over the moat of water.

  "Have you been in, Elder Qin?" I asked.

  "Once," he nodded. "When I was sixteen, I believe. I'd just broken through to the Foundation Establishment Realm, and, being the youngest in the sect's history to do it, the Sect Master at the time rewarded me."

  "What was it like?"

  "... it's different for everyone," his voice turned low and resonant for a moment as he reminisced. "It has this magical way of draining your sins and forcing you to face them. That is why practically nobody over the age of twenty is allowed unless they have a perfect grasp on their heart."

  ... hmm.

  Wait a second.

  Sins?

  That old monster has likely sinned as much as the entire rest of the sect combined, even those demonic bastards! Oi, you won't die, Long Tao?! Please tell me that you won't die!