The Shining Mountain Sect was a small organisation in the Black Tiger Kingdom, which was in turn a small kingdom. Still, though small, they were both essential players in the greater symphony that was the Heavenly Phoenix Empire.
And, being essential, they had their pride.
Such thoughts played through Shi Xiong’s head as he tuned his pipa under a midnight sky. The pear-shaped instrument was as much a part of his body as his fingers, his heart, his breath, or his core. With each adjustment, the pipa approached perfection, and the time of Shi Xiong’s performance drew close.
Clouds leaked snow as they swirled overhead and congregated around the peak of the mountain where he sat on a small cliff side surrounded by trees. Before him, cleared of snow and exposed as ugly, barren rock, lay the hidden entrance to the demonic facility.
Just thinking about this vile presence lurking in his glorious sect almost made him break one of his strings.
But he evened his breathing and cycled qi from his core and continued tuning.
In truth, the tuning wasn’t necessary. He had played the pipa for a hundred years, ever since he first dragged tiny fingers across the strings when he was but a toddler. His skill had reached such heights that he could bring grown men to tears on a pipa that was out of tune, heat-warped, and underwater.
His pride pulsed in time with his heart, in time with his core, in time with the winds blowing snow across the peak.
He nestled deeper into the rock as he sat cross-legged on the mountain’s cliff and cradled the pipa like a living child — for what else could it be to him? The wind swirled around him, and he waited for the perfect moment to begin.
His sect lacked a Nascent Soul cultivator with the soul-touched power to break open the hidden formations with no more than a snap of their fingers. The Shining Mountain Sect had only a handful of Core Formation elders, and of those not secluded in closed-door cultivation, only two were equipped to even attempt cracking open this hidden atrocity.
Shi Xiong, master of the pipa and musical genius, was one.
The other approached the exposed rock from the snow-draped trees, his steps as quiet as a brush on a page. The wind touched him, and he rustled like someone leafing through a book. Guo Zimo, the Talisman Master of the Shining Mountain Sect.
His detection talismans had first alerted the sect to the tumor festering in their peaks. He moved with deliberate steps, his body covered head to toe in talismans of protective, offensive, and esoteric nature. He was like a reptile, with each talisman forming a scale of paper and elegant calligraphy. Even his hands, his shoes, his hat, and his face were covered in talismans.
Many of the elders called him paranoid behind his back, but such rumors died when he informed them of the demonic presence.
The Talisman Master stood beside Shi Xiong and gave a respectful bow.
“Elder,” Guo Zimo said in his quiet, nondescript voice.
“Elder,” Shi Xiong said. “Shall we break open this womb of evil?”
“I await your lead.”
Shi Xiong bent his head, and his porcelain fingers carefully plucked the strings. The notes came as clear as a mountain spring, but so far apart, so drawn out that the song almost collapsed before it formed.
His dark hair hung over his face as he bent over the pipa, his body contorted with effort, despite the languid plucking that echoed out into the cloud-soaked sky.
As the wind blew overhead, the notes came faster. Each ringing sound called on the qi in the environment, assembling and engineering an array that slowly built in pressure as it pressed against the formation hidden in the rock.
The song lurked somewhere between mathematics and magic, and not even Shi Xiong could say with truth what it was, for this was not a technique he ever studied, or a tune he played before. No, this was his pride of the Shining Mountain Sect, and his century of talent, and his qi, and the elusive whispers of his dao, coming together to form a pillar of pressure that stretched from the rocky cliff to the clouded heavens.
Guo Zimo stepped into the spiralling qi as though he were a part of a dance. His movements were like the sweep of a brush as he pinned talismans to the rock. Each slip of paper flapped in the breeze, and the characters glowed with the ambient qi. He worked quickly, stepping in beat with the building music, and placed the talismans down in a spiral as he moved inwards toward the center of the hidden demonic formation.
For any other task, such a wealth of resources and qi would seem overkill. But the two Core Formation cultivators needed to expend vast effort to reach the equivalent of a Nascent Soul cultivator. Only through the climbing song and the spiralling talismans could they brush upon the soul of the world and demand the mountain open.
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But this was the Shining Mountain Sect, and they were not afraid of effort.
The music spiked into a frenzy as Shi Xiong’s fingers flew across the strings. Clouds rumbled and roiled. Moonlight slanted through the gaps like sharpened spears to stab at the cliff face.
Guo Zimo stood, waiting, as the pipa reached a crescendo.
The swirling pillar of qi grew ever denser. Rock cracked under the weight, and the air trembled. If a mortal could have survived being near this ritual, they would have seen the qi take on the glow of the moon and the shape of a shining mountain inverted in the sky. Only, instead of stone, this mountain was built of light.
The tip of this great illusory peak pressed against the rock that hid the demonic formation.
With a leap, Guo Zimo cleared the spiral of talismans and landed beside Shi Xiong.
Blood ran down the strings of the pipa.
The air wept tears of qi.
Any moment now, the song would collapse, and the qi would be released. Even two Core Formation cultivators could be damaged by such a backlash. Possibly, even killed.
But they needed as much as they could gather if they were to succeed.
Shi Xiong could hardly breathe. His core pulsed in time with the tune, the notes coming so close to each other it was one dancing whine. The song sucked at his strength, and his eyes drooped.
One more note, one more note, one more note, one more…
A string broke.
The twisting qi trembled.
Guo Zimo clapped his hands, and the spiral of talismans burst into blue flames.
Silence dominated the cliff as the illusory mountain sucked up the conjured qi and became real.
If only for a moment, an inverted mountain hovered above the sealed demonic formation, and gravity thrust it down.
Rock exploded into dust as a shockwave raced down the mountainside.
Guo Zimo burned numerous protective talismans to erect layered shields around him and Shi Xiong.
The musician sagged against the other elder, no pride in his movement as he was barely able to stay conscious. Still, he followed the explosion with his vast spiritual sense.
The monstrous wave of qi and demonic formation infused dust blasted down the slope, clearing away trees and shredding animals unlucky enough to be in the path of such destruction. The entire mountain would need to be cleansed after this eruption.
The dust and rock settled at the base, but the wave of qi continued until it pushed out beyond the edges of Shi Xiong’s spiritual sense. Making a note to send disciples out to inspect the areas managed by the sect, the musician returned his attention to the matter at hand.
The air cleared, and there was no inverse mountain. There was barely a cliff face. The trees were blasted away, and where there had been an ugly section of rock… There was simply a deep hole.
Shi Xiong sent his spirit sense forward and found a void waiting for him.
“Did we succeed?” he asked.
“The facility is open,” Guo Zimo affirmed. “Well done.”
Shi Xiong smiled.
“Good, good…”
“Rest here, elder,” Guo Zimo said. “I’ll send for the disciple.”
“No, there’s no time for rest, I’ll —”
“I’ll eat you!” a voice screamed from inside the pit.
Shi Xiong groaned as he leaped to his feet. He dismissed his damaged pipa and summoned a new instrument from his storage ring.
A large hand grasped the edge of the hole in the rock, and a monstrous, bloated beast climbed forth. It almost looked human, except for bleached skin and long, ragged hair as black as coal. Eyes larger than cartwheels stared at the elders.
“Delicious!” it said in a voice that was many voices. “Delicious freedom! Delicious meat!”
Qi radiated from the beast, placing it firmly in the Foundation Establishment realm. But the qi burned like a fire, flickering, and Shi Xiong couldn’t determine the exact rank… almost as though he were detecting a crowd of people and not just a single being.
His stomach turned at the implications.
“What is that?” he said.
“A demonic experiment,” Guo Zimo said calmly. “Please, elder, allow me. You have done enough work tonight.”
Guo Zimo plucked a talisman from his shoulder and tossed it through the air.
The wind should have snatched the slip of paper, but it flew as true as an arrow and landed softly on the monstrous creature’s forehead.
“Tiny paper can’t hurt us!” shouted the beast with a voice that caused an avalanche on a distant peak. “You are just meat for us to —”
Guo Zimo clapped his hands, murmured a small prayer, and bowed.
The talisman burned in a rush of blue fire and activated the Nineteen Blade Inferno Killing Array.
The monstrous creature went still as gleaming lines opened up along its flesh. Light poured from within as blood seeped out. The monster crumbled into gigantic cubes of meat. Before the chunks could touch the ground, they blazed with incandescent fire.
After the flash of blinding light, only smoke remained.
The wind swept away the smoke and revealed the gigantic hole leading into the demonic facility. Inside the hole, a staircase spiralled down into the darkness.
“As I was saying,” Guo Zimo said. “I shall send for the disciples. There is much for us to investigate.”
###
Somewhere in Twisted Pine Valley, Qian Ling stopped running. Breathing heavily, she leaned Mu Min against a tree.
“What is it?” Mu Min asked her, barely able to stand, but slowly regaining strength as she cultivated. “Why did we stop?”
Qian Ling took a moment to arrange her thoughts.
“I ran because I thought the hidden master was a demonic cultivator… but now I’m not sure.”
“What are you saying?”
“I want to go back and check,” Qian Ling said.
“That’s a terrible idea.”
“I know.”
“Even if he’s not a demonic cultivator, we don’t know who he is. If he were truly as powerful as we believed, why would he consort with a demonic spirit beast instead of just destroying it? This is a matter for a core disciple or an elder. Not us.”
Qian Ling shrugged.
“I know what you’re saying, but I… I want to be sure before I make a report to the elders —”
A wave of qi rushed through the pines. Qian Ling might have almost called it the wind except for the way it writhed against her skin like wet maggots.
Mu Min gasped as the demonic qi hit her, and her injuries flared. The qi bandages Qian Ling wove earlier blackened and smoked.
The wave of qi raced past and continued in the direction of the pagoda.
better idea.
