Shattered Lands: Book 8 of Painting the Mists

by Laplante, Patrick

  “Let’s go,” Cha Ming said. “We don’t have much time to waste.” Judging by his weary state, he’d also seen his fair share of fighting.

  “My friend,” Feng Ming said, running up to him and giving strong hug. “You’d vanished.”

  Cha Ming changed once again, this time into a heavyset middle-aged man with slightly grizzled hair.

  “I don’t exist,” Cha Ming said. “I’ve never been here.” He looked uncertainly toward the Taotie. “We need to move now. Those transcendents are up to something. They’ve withdrawn from the battle and have taken out a powerful treasure. If we don’t leave now, we might not get another chance.”

  Feng Ming looked toward the battle in the east. He saw the head of the guard and the others joining them, and there was some confusion among their ranks. He saw Prince Shen, the real one, fighting the Taotie with everything he had, yellow chestplate and all. He saw a familiar black spear. His lucky spear.

  “Cha Ming?” Feng Ming said, hesitating. “Could you do me a favor?”

  Up ahead, the Taotie opened its mouth and roared. Its soundless might reverberated throughout their bodies and souls.

  “What happened to your eyes?” Feng Ming asked, curiously glancing at Cha Ming as he led the way toward the last place he wanted to be—right next to the battle, at the base of the Taotie’s feet. They were nearing those who fought it at the center of the devastation. There were no civilians, as those who hadn’t fled had already been killed by the shock waves of the battle.

  All around the beast, wicked tentacles flailed about, latching on to anything it could. And all around it, a strange emptiness presided. The walls that had fallen, the earth that had been churned up by the impact of its heavy feet and claws, the weapons that had fallen to the ground from felled combatants—none of them remained. They’d either been swept clear by the other fighters, who knew full well what would happen if they left tasty morsels for the beast to devour, or had been swept up by the tentacles or their tendrils, which roamed the battlefield in search of prey.

  The area around the Taotie was fuzzy, for he couldn’t open his eyes. Not only would opening them do nothing productive, but it would also release an intense devil-sealing pressure in a land chock full of devils. There were many of them among the transcendents who fought the Taotie. The creature itself was an outline of darkness so deep that he could almost make out shades from the emptiness.

  “We don’t have much time,” Cha Ming said. He tilted his head toward the chanting transcendents up above. A black grimoire now floated between them, black runic characters floating up from its grisly leather-bound surface. Each rune let off a thick ochre glow that his soul could make out, despite not being able to see. The ochre glow made his spirit shiver in fear; it was clearly not of mortal origins. The transcendent devilish might glowed brightly, and the Taotie, which struggled madly to approach it, also seemed to fear it.

  “This way,” Feng Ming said, floating over to a collapsed building.

  Cha Ming kept up his combat formation, using tricks of light to shield their surroundings. Though not as skillful as Zi Long’s illusions, he could still use his transcendent force and formations to effectively mask their group. There, they waited. Feng Ming, Gong Xuandi, and Cha Ming simply stood there, waiting for an opportunity.

  “So what’s the plan?” Cha Ming asked, taking a moment to recover qi and soul force.

  “No plan,” Feng Ming said. “We’ll wait here for an opportunity. I refuse to believe that my lucky spear actually wants to stay with that guy.”

  Far above them, the crown prince of the Ji Kingdom, Prince Shen, was spearheading the fighters from his kingdom. They were laying down their lives to push back the Taotie, whose power was clearly growing with every passing second.

  “Great,” Cha Ming said. “You know, if you weren’t so damned lucky, I’d abandon you in heartbeat.”

  “But I am lucky,” Feng Ming said smugly. “A chance will come. Don’t worry.”

  Cha Ming shook his head, his guts green with regret. “I should have stolen it when I had the chance. It was just sitting there, in the Wang family vault.”

  “You saw my spear? And you didn’t take it?” Feng Ming said, glaring.

  “Look, it wasn’t at the top of my priority list,” Cha Ming said angrily. “I had an organization to infiltrate, deception to plot, a priceless treasure to steal, and a weapon to invent then sabotage.”

  “So that weapon I set off…” Feng Ming said hesitantly.

  “You’re the one who set it off?” Cha Ming said, slapping his hand against his forehead. “I should have known.”

  “Stand a little to the right,” Feng Ming said suddenly.

  Cha Ming frowned but shuffled over.

  “A little more.”

  Cha Ming obliged.

  “Sorry, I didn’t want you standing there. Bad feeling and all.”

  “So we’re just supposed to stand here and wait for it?” Cha Ming said. “What, will it just fall out of the sky?”

  Up above, the battle intensified. The chanting grew louder, and the ochre runes began swirling above the Taotie. The transcendents split up into twelve main groups, and one of them, their leader, shouted at the non-transcendents to keep interfering with the beast.

  A massive lightning storm was gathered above the transcendents, attacking their group every so often with calculated bolts of lightning. They were warning strikes, meant to strike fear into them but not kill. Clearly, even the heavens held back as the devilish transcendents chanted to contain the creature. Though the heavens were unthinking and merciless, even they seemed to know fear. They simply stood at the ready, and as the transcendents increased their power with the volume of their chanting, they increased in size as well. The bolts the storm sent grew more powerful, sometimes searing a cloak, sometimes burning an arm.

  “Now!” the lead transcendent said. “Pull back!”

  “Pull back!” Prince Shen yelled, echoing the command. His men flew away, and he held the rear for a fraction of a second longer. They dived and swerved, avoiding the beast as it tried to catch them with flailing tentacles. Fortunately, it was distracted by the glowing ochre lights above it. It reached out for them, only using a few stray appendages to swat the stragglers.

  One of those tentacles, to the prince’s misfortune, struck true. It hit him in the back just as he was about to reach safety.

  “My prince!” the head of the royal guard yelled, diving to save him. He caught the prince as he fell, Shen’s armor disintegrating from the dark energy that siphoned away at it. His face was as pale as a sheet. No one thought to retrieve his spear.

  That same spear fell tip first into the ground beside Cha Ming, right where he’d been standing before Feng Ming had instructed him to move over. It disappeared as it entered their concealment. Cha Ming raised an eyebrow as Feng Ming picked it up, inspected it, then nodded. “Good ole lucky spear,” Feng Ming said. “Since I lost the Magma God’s Spear, I can’t well return home unarmed. Though,” he said, shaking his head, “it’s unfortunate I lost my father-in-law’s weapon. He’s going to kill me when I get back.”

  A second spear flew down from the battlefield, this one from an unlucky marshal in the Ji Kingdom’s forces. It was a golden spear with red patterns, fire aligned, glowing bright with merit glow.

  “Ah,” said Feng Ming, picking it up.

  “This is too much,” Cha Ming said, shaking his head ruefully as Feng Ming stowed the new spear, the replacement for his Magma God’s Spear.

  Prizes in tow, they flew through the streets away from the carnage. They rushed through the city gates, which were now unguarded due to the chaos, flying past unwitting guards who could only gawk at their passage. They continued flying even when twelve shining pillars of ochre light descended on the creature, locking it in place. Runes glowed on those pillars as they formed chains that bound it, stopping it from moving. They contained its devouring powers, which couldn’t quite feed on the transcendent energy
they were composed of.

  They were safe. They’d accomplished their missions and left the city undetected before Zhou Li arrived. In Cha Ming’s eyes, blind as they were, that was the very definition of success. He only wished it didn’t taste so bittersweet.

  Epilogue

  Tick. Tick. Tick.

  The clock in Wang Jun’s office marked each agonizing second as it passed. He sat before Elder Bai and Wang Bing as they went over their morning reports. It was painful to listen, not because of the results—they were doing well—but because of what he’d rather be doing: finding Hong Xin. The fact that he’d finally found her after all this time only to lose her again was both infuriating and depressing. It felt like some god of mischief had a grudge against him, forever filling his life with painful twists and turns.

  Elder Bai was reaching the end of his monthly report. At long last, they’d finally surpassed Wang Ling’s asset base. “I’m not sure whether it was more due to our aggressive growth lately or his aggressive losses, but results are results,” Elder Bai said proudly. His face fell when he saw Wang Jun’s distant expression. “Should we schedule this meeting for another time, perhaps? You don’t seem as ecstatic as I’d imagined.”

  “This meeting time is fine,” Wang Jun said. “Please, don’t worry about me, I’m just tired and overworked. I have many things weighing on my mind.”

  Elder Bai didn’t know about Hong Xin or her identity as Headmistress Hong. Neither did Wang Bing.

  “Since it’s a day for happy news, I thought I should let you know about my good news,” Wang Bing said. She sat there, waiting with her hands folded in front of her cup. He noticed a jade ring on the fourth finger of her left hand.

  “Congratulations,” Wang Jun said, smiling lightly. “I can’t say I caught his name earlier.”

  “Of course you didn’t,” Wang Bing said. “I didn’t tell you, as I didn’t want you sneaking into his house at night threatening his poor little life.”

  “Surely you can tell me now?” Wang Jun said. “I wouldn’t be so cruel as to take away your husband now that you’re already married.”

  She hesitated, then nodded. “He’s a designer named Han Shui. He makes the most wonderful clothing out of the finest demon silk.”

  “Make sure to buy yourself a congratulatory gift from me,” Wang Jun said.

  “Already have,” Wang Bing said. “The shoes are very nice. Thank you.”

  Elder Bai coughed uncomfortably.

  “In any case,” Wang Bing continued, “it’s clear that you have something on your mind. I just thought I’d give you some extra happy news this morning. You know, aside from the fact that we’re winning and all.”

  “Thank you, both of you, for all your hard work,” Wang Jun said. “I know it’s meant many long hours, much time away from your families, and extra elbow grease. You’re the best team a man could ask for. I’m proud of you.”

  They both nodded as they packed up their things and shuffled out of the office, leaving Wang Jun to his thoughts.

  Tick. Tick. Tick.

  The clock’s sound, previously a mundane backdrop in his plain office, infuriated him with every passing second. “Shadow?” Wang Jun asked. There was a small delay before the shadow emerged from his own figure, facing the light instead of shying away from it. “What have you discovered?”

  Still nothing, the shadow said. I found the culprits. They are all Spectral Assassins of high rank. But from what I can tell, this wasn’t plotted by the Spirit Temple. It was a contract, nothing more. An expensive one.

  “Still nothing…” Wang Jun muttered. A knock came at his door. The shadow, knowing exactly what to do, moved away from the light and imitated Wang Jun’s pose. “Come in.”

  “Young Master Jun?” a quavering voice said.

  Wang Jun looked up and saw a younger man with blond hair. A lesser member of the Wang family, so he was relegated to messenger duty. “The Patriarch has requested your presence.”

  “I’m not interested,” Wang Jun said, waving him away.

  “He said you’d say that,” the messenger said, “so he asked me to tell you he had very special news to share with you, news that would overjoy you.”

  Wang Jun frowned at that. Just what game was the Patriarch playing, today of all days? Would he dangle the leadership in front of him like a carrot, only to snatch it back due to a technicality? He sighed. “Tell him I’ll be right there.”

  The messenger nodded and left. Wang Jun traced the boy’s progress back to the elder council room, where he said words and left. Unfortunately, Wang Jun couldn’t quite make out who was there. The room was distorted, a powerful presence obscuring everything. His eyes widened. Could it be?

  The room around Wang Jun melted, merging into shadows. The messenger boy yelped as Wang Jun emerged from the ground beside him. Wang Jun ignored the boy and marched toward the double doors to the elder council, pushing them in. Rage filled his eyes when he saw what was there: the Patriarch sipping tea at a table. A woman in purple sat to his left.

  Hong Xin.

  A collar had been placed around her neck, and her eyes were red from all the crying she’d done. There were red marks on her wrists where her manacles had dug into her flesh as she’d sought to escape. And her cultivation—no, the lack thereof—stood out especially. He shook as he realized that it had completely vanished. There were many devices that could hide such things, and many qi-restraining devices that could hide the cultivation of a captive. Such tricks had no effect on him, however. She wore no qi-restraining devices, for her cultivation was completely gone.

  “What. Have. You. Done?” Wang Jun said, stepping forward. Each step crashed soundlessly, cracking stone and splintering wood. Every shadow in the room danced as they leaned in toward his target, Patriarch Wuling.

  “Tut-tut-tut,” Patriarch Wuling said, holding up a black dagger.

  Wang Jun shook again. This wasn’t a normal dagger, but a soul-stealing sacrificial dagger from the Spirit Temple. Anyone killed by it would have their soul bound to the wielder, to do with as he pleased. That included locking it away, never to see the cycle of reincarnation again.

  “How dare you,” Wang Jun said. “First you send me on a wild goose chase. Then you give me an impossible challenge. Now, you kidnap her? Where has your humanity gone? Are you still even human?”

  “Stop right there where I can see you,” Patriarch Wuling said, standing up. “And before we continue, I’ll have you know that I’ve fed her a poison, one that requires a rare antidote every day. I have commissioned the Spirit Temple to curse her three separate ways, all three of which detect tampering. The Ancestor himself, at great expense, has also placed a life-dependency bond on this woman. Should Wang Ling die, she will die with him. Furthermore, this isn’t a trigger, but a constant feed. Absence of his presence sending a constant signal to her will result in her death, so cheap hiding tricks before stabbing him in the back won’t work.”

  He walked out from behind the table, leaving Hong Xin on the chair. She seemed absentminded, not quite there. Was she drugged? Was she incapacitated so she couldn’t convince him to abandon her? That only made him even more angry, and it took the entirety of his self-control—along with the reminder that if he killed him, Hong Xin would likely die—not to stab the man in the throat.

  “You,” Patriarch Wuling said, “have been very a bad boy. You’ve been operating in the shadows, threatening, killing, blackmailing. You’ve also been operating a legitimate business, one that brings in so much money that half the elders are willing to back you.”

  “So you decided to collect a hostage,” Wang Jun said bitterly. “To rein me in.”

  “It wasn’t those things I mentioned that forced me to do this,” Patriarch Wuling said, gritting his teeth.

  Wang Jun could see them now, clear signs of agitation and stress. Something had happened recently, something that was outside of his control. Moreover, he could see several hundreds of bloodred threads connecting the man
to another entity. Some were thin, but three were thick, unbearably so. It was a thread of karmic debt, and the debt he owed was massive.

  “You’ve done some things, planned some things. I don’t know how you did them, but these things happened, and our entire family is in jeopardy.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Wang Jun said.

  “DON’T BOTHER WITH YOUR LIES!” Patriarch Wuling yelled in a rare outburst of emotion. “There was the business with the Spirit Temple in town. Fine. You killed a few Spectral Assassins, and that’s something I can compensate with money. You decided to kill a few nobles, blackmail some others. I can live with that. What I cannot live with is you messing up three hundred years of careful planning.

  “You sent someone. I don’t know who, I don’t know how. But someone snuck into our Southern businesses and somehow managed to destroy a heavens damned Spirit Temple, Shepherd included, an entire Blood Master Monastery, traveling transcendent included, destroy half the Ji Kingdom’s army garrison, broke Bastion Wall, and provoked a fight between a demon monarch and the king of the Ji Dynasty, who is now mortally wounded.

  “And finally, blew up half his palace, killing very important political figures from around the South in the process. That doesn’t even count the vast resources we invested in the Blackthorn Conglomerate that were raided from the vault. There is no karma leading back to a perpetrator. Our agents are dead. Karma only flows one way, and that’s to me and Ling. And you and I both know that there’s no one else on this continent who can do this except for you and that wretched, freeloading master of yours.” After letting it all out, Patriarch Wuling took a deep breath, let it out, and cracked his neck. “From now on, you’re on a leash.”

  “You will free her,” Wang Jun said.

  “I will not,” Patriarch Wuling replied. “I’ve also identified her family members, dredged up your past history with her. Some of your mutual acquaintances are beyond my reach, but I swear to the seven lords of heaven and the seven lords of hell that if you so much as step a toe out of line, I will kill her and everyone she’s ever known. Do I make myself clear? You will listen to Ling, help him where he’s lacking, and coordinate with him. You are to do as instructed, like the most loyal dog to the most caring master. Do you understand?”