Simon Euaerizo, called Qirong by dead men, waited for his prey in a concealed trench hidden in the hills above the Opal Way.
The Opal Way was one of the lesser roads near the Scorpion Road, connecting towns north of Waycastle Thrake and Seven Heavens Trade City. By the standards of the Optamatoi, anywhere near Seven Heavens Trade City was cosmopolitan. Even in the wilderness, such as here in the foothills of the Colossus Steps, if you did meet someone by chance, you were as apt to encounter a foreigner as a Bronze.
Foreigners thought this the desert. Sure it was, by their standards. To Simon, it was a fat land, a stranger to hardships. Barrel cacti thronged even in the open flats, and permanent streams carved out gullies where thickets of sycamore and thorn gum trees grew. A patient person could farm here without condenser arrays, just using crude irrigation ditches. Experienced traders and even some of his Bronze companions imagined they knew the real desert. They couldn't even conceive of the barrier wastes in the former Cannibal lands, plains of rock and dust so devoid of qi the air couldn't be breathed.
The latest caravan passed out of sight where the road turned miles to the west, no sign of the targets yet. This was his third day here, he and his companions were prepared to wait days more for the quarry. In his storage ring he had several letters from Lipita Delphi. He'd read them several times this trip. He'd started correspondence with her after mentoring her for a few years. Her latest was that she'd returned from a successful expedition to the Yuan Secret Realm. However, her encounters there with Righteous Path practitioners vexed her. Sufficiently that she asked a bald question.
If they are the Righteous Path, then what is righteousness?
Different answers lurked there. What was righteousness to the Righteous path and what was righteousness really? He was particularly biased on the second question, so he had to answer carefully.
The Righteous called the Bronze Demonic, Unrighteous, because they were heretics. This is because they used heretical means: divination, poison, curses, corpse desecration. But these tools for survival, what did using them in particular matter? What was more righteous about cutting a man's throat than poisoning him? Why did a dead man's flesh and bone have to be buried or burned? For the crime of using the tools at hand to survive, the Golden Devils were feared and hated in equal measure. No, this way of classifying actions made no sense to Simon. The point, the usefulness, had to be the dividing line itself. Some were inside the tent and respected, others outside and reviled. That was that.
There was unrighteous, and there was
unrighteous, however. Former
archegetes Alexios said "The Heavens do not dictate justice. It comes from the hearts of men." But some hearts should be ignored if you had any sense. In his youth, as a fine young Cannibal, his heart was certainly different.
Even as a mortal Cannibal princeling, other mortals had been pets, tools or food to him. Babies were delicious, right up there with pickled ginseng grubworm and annihilator root soup. The memory didn't disturb him over much, he hadn't known any better at the time. Having people of all ages at the mercy of his every whim had stimulated his confidence in some ways. Once he'd had a man's torso carved open just to watch his organs working, then had him healed because 'he's been a good sport'.
A hell of a thing to live in fear. That's what it really was to be a Battle Blood Cannibal. Constant fear of every living thing you couldn't control, punctuated by the joy of domination, every other positive emotion stamped out. The Cannibals embraced the self of body, following individualistic Dao. It took him years to lose the fear after leaving the Cannibals.
To Bronze settlers in the Shining Mountains, like the Euaerizoi that adopted him, children were like gold. Their family small, their patriarch Justin a foundation-builder mere centuries old. They mistook the cause of his fear for something else, and he let them do it. They loved him anyways. The Bronze faced facts, of course. His cultivation ability made him immensely valuable to the family and they didn't hide it. But even his adoptive siblings with no talent were loved and grew up to live full lives. Every mortal was their own person, and killing was considered wrong most of the time. Such lavish infrastructure was provided for entirely mortal families, yet they never harvested them. They didn't eat them ever, even when they died of natural causes.
What will, what discipline, to let such power go! And for what? It puzzled him for years. When he first saw the Hoplite formation used, he finally understood, and his fear left him. Mercy and justice towards the mortals was practice. The Cannibals could never know anything larger than the self of body, their entire way of life made it impossible. The Bronze embraced the greater self, the group self, in their everyday lives, so they could become the Hoplite with ease. And it wasn't just for practice. At every level, their people only had to worry about threats from outside, didn't have to resort to oaths to heaven or domination to make everything work.
Their sacrifice was tangible, the benefits harder to see, but enormous. The fruits of righteousness. Was not this harmony and peace of mind a wondrous path?
That was his Dao of Bronze, and why he was biased on the question. He could just bluntly tell her that righteousness was expanding her sense of self to include the least of us, but that was pointless. He was tempted to just tell her to make her family proud, her mothers were sensible examples. But he remembered his first family. He could become the evilest beast in the Realm, and his birth mother would have cheered all the harder. No, he'd take a different way...
A sudden commotion to the east brought his attention back to the Opal Way. A caravan of about thirty people was being attacked by less than a quarter their number. The assault was fast, the seven attackers rushing in on foot from across Simon's position, tearing through the travelers with ease. The caravan was a mix of mortals and weak cultivators, none more than 5
th Heavenstage. Against what appeared to be three Foundation Establishment raiders and four attacks none below the 6
th Heavenstage, they put up as much fight as wet paper. Simon refrained from intervention. To act to save these few would condemn others for no good reward. They were here to strike at the root, not trim the branches. Watching the travelers die was uncomfortable yet necessary.
The raiders quickly picked over the spoils of their attack, moving quickly to avoid interruption. They didn't linger much, taking a few choice goods that drew their eye but focusing on the bodies, loading them onto the mounts of the unfortunate caravan. Simon marked one of the Experts who used earth manipulation to conceal the detritus of the assault, burying what could not be carried. They'd been tracking the group for a while, but picking out their trail had been difficult. The terrain alteration he'd suspected was now confirmed. Soon enough the raiders were on their way heading north east away from the Scorpion Road into the deeper Desert with quiet shadows in tow. Manuel Raoulaina flashed Simon a high sign and a savage grin, but they all maintained telepathic silence as they'd agreed beforehand.
A couple of hours later the prey slowed in rough territory at the foot of the mountains. The path they'd taken skirted several natural dangers, mostly the territories of Spirit Beasts but also a few of the more esoteric dangers of the Organ Meat Desert like Thirsting Sand and Mirage Haunts. In the end they'd ended up in a cunningly concealed encampment based out of a cave in the hills. The group Simon was trailing had met up at the hideout with several others totaling twenty-two in all, five Foundation Establishment experts and the remainder Qi Condensation. The three Experts he'd trailed seemed inferior to one foundation-building resident in the camp whose strength flared like a comparative beacon. Given how things went with Blood Path practitioners, he had to be their leader.
Their nature was easy to discern given Simon's familiarity with blood path practices. The bodies transported so far and the subtle stench that lingered briefly where they'd passed gave it away, well, that and the human haunch on a spit in the camp. The sentinels standing guard who greeted the arriving group had no notice of the stealthy observers who'd circled around to approach from the sides. Settling down in concealment on a hill to the east, Simon waited for the sun to set.
The raiders were fairly undisciplined. They were cunning enough not to hunt where they slept, and keep several obstacles between their camp and the most traveled areas nearby, but their security at home was poor. They only had three guards posted and all were among the weaker cultivators in the camp. One particular incompetent kept looking back towards the fires of the camp when he couldn't have been sufficiently beyond mortal limits to not have his night vision affected. It seemed the briefing he'd received from the 353
rd Legion was correct.
Something had come down from Turtlebone Mountain and caused enough of a disruption in its advance towards Waycastle Thrake that the cordon around the Blood Mask had been broken. In the weeks afterward, raids nearby had increased and everything pointed to a Blood Path presence. Most likely caused by something escaping the inheritance artifact. Scouts and headhunters had been assigned missions to clear out the infestation so here Simon's group was to purge a nest. It said something about the danger of leaving the Blood Path unchecked that teams of veteran legionaries with specialist skills, like Simon, had arrived so quickly.
Technically, his team of five had even numbers in foundation-building cultivators, but the enemy leader was tougher than any of them, and there were enough Qi condensation hangers-on to count for something. There was no room for sloppiness.
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Shen Du scratched at his arm, bored and unhappy to be on guard duty. He'd missed out on the excitement of the raid and he was hungry, having gotten boss Gan mad last week. Saliva gathered in his mouth as he thought about the haul the hunting party had brought back. Was it too much to ask for an arm to nibble on? He could probably reach 4
th Heavenstage if he got just a little portion to eat. He'd joined up with Gan because the promise of becoming a cultivator and a powerful one fast had been better than dying as lowly gang thug in Seven Heavens. Yet here he was, a cultivator sure, but still doing the scut work.
"Damn Fu, telling on me. I'll get that bastard real good soon. He'll see. You don't mess with me and get away with it." He grumbled to himself when a crackle in the darkness snapped his head to the right. Now Shen was no fool so he didn't just call out into the dark but he also wasn't going to raise the rest of the camp without being sure there actually was something out there. Being mistaken about that might actually get Gan to eat him like she'd threatened. Picking up the spear that had been at his side as he sat on a convenient rock, he held it in both hands and advanced forward. His sight was better than ever now as a cultivator so he peered this way and that trying to identify the source of the sound.
Seeing nothing he called out to the other two sentries set out in a broad arc that covered the approach to the cave that was the raider's hideout. "Oy, Wu Lan, Gu Ten. You lazy bastards notice anything?"
Silence.
"You bastards, stop lazing about and talk. Anything to see?" Shen Du called out again only to receive the same absence of reply. Now the hair on the back of his neck prickled. Something was wrong and it was probably a good idea to rouse the rest immediately. Turning back towards the camp and the cave beyond, he'd just opened his mouth to holler fit to raise the dead when he choked, silenced.
Like a spectral apparition from the beyond, a shadowy figure met his stunned gaze as he completed his motion. Any cry of alarm was silenced as someone put a chokehold on him from behind. Spluttering he flailed at the arm choking the life out of him, dropping his spear in his panic. This was about as successful as beating on a ring of iron. All the while, the shadow watched. Slowly fitfully his struggles ceased over long moments. His last blurred sight was of the figure somewhat coming into focus, likely dropping whatever cloaking technique it - no he - had used to get so close without notice. The bronze skin was a dead giveaway of the identity of his killers.
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Gingerly, Thekia placed the corpse on the ground in front of Simon, while the others debated last-minute tactics with hand signals. Blood Path heretics were very good at smelling blood, so hunting a Blood Path group, you had to avoid creating open wounds or you'd spook them. The two other sentries had been similarly disposed of. The next stage of the operation was unlikely to go as smoothly as this had. The three deceased meant they had nineteen bloodthirsty raiders remaining, five of whom were within the same great realm, versus five Bronze. He thought back to Lipita's question about righteousness. It was time to introduce these cannibals to the Golden Devils answer.
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Gan Fuxian woke up to smoke choking her. Staggering up from her bed roll towards the entrance, she felt the world spin around her. The cave her raiders had claimed for themselves was fairly large. After Tu Long had worked on it, it was wide enough to contain all twenty two of them, along with their stuff, easily. But now it was a confusing obstacle course as she stumbled over and through hurdles. What was going on? Were they under attack? Why wasn't anyone else up?
When she got closer to the entrance she got her answer. A solitary intruder was standing at the cave mouth, behind him several heaps of firewood lit ablaze, the source of the smoke filling the cavern. Like a wraith he danced in the smoky air wielding a smoking incense burner, easily evading the clumsy strikes from Apion Zhou's fists, Leng's sword and the sluggish earth spears Tu Long struggled to create. Something was very wrong. Her lieutenants were Foundation Establishment like herself, if only in the Fortified 1-Pillar stage. They should not have been in so much trouble with one person, especially when she could tell that he was in the same realm, weaker than her own 6-Pillar cultivation. Coughing spasmodically, she looked down and saw a prone body curled up in the rigor of death. The smoke had concealed the floor around the cave mouth littered with the bodies of her raiders.
The smoke, it had to be. It wasn't just smoke, there was something in there that had killed the Qi Condensation dregs and was crippling her weaker subordinates. Even as she watched, the intruder wielded the burner like a flail and brought the lit container down on Feng's head to the sizzle of heated flesh and wet crack like a crushed melon. Apion Zhou tried to dodge past the cave entrance to flank him, but was blocked by a wicked kick. The intruder pressured Tu Long with his distractions reduced. Now Gan could make out his features, bronze skin and blonde hair- strong Bronze blood, likely a centurion. He felt like a 4-Pillar Foundation expert. Hunting them alone?
Tu Long knelt, eyes bloodshot and slapped her hand against the ground. The cave floor in front of her rippled and turned into a sucking morass of mud in an attempt to slow the silent killer. Caught in the trap, the Devil smoothly reached down to his side, pulled out a jade slip and tossed it at Tu Long. Weakened as she was by the poisoned fumes, Tu Long managed to roll and evade the slip but didn't move far enough. A bright blast picked her up and hurled her backwards toward where Gan was standing. Apion Zhou used the opportunity to maneuver behind him.
Gan felt her cultivation base gain a handle over the invading poison as she scoured her body with qi. She'd recovered enough to no longer be gasping in enough time to see Apion fleeing out the exit.
Glaring at the Devil still stuck in the mud trap, she barked out. "You're going to regret coming here, goldie. This honored Gan Fuxian will rip out your tongue and eat it. Your flesh will be my stepping stone to greater power, fool."
"The name is Simon Euaerizo, come for me." Cold and unperturbed, the exterminator flared his cultivation base climbing out of the mud pit.
"When I feel like it." The technique she'd been building finally activated, qi woven into the pattern that the Mask had imprinted in her. Blood burst from her mouth and wrists in a spray of tendrils. Dodging adeptly, the Devil backed away towards the entrance only to find he wasn't the target. The hunting appendages created by the Grasping Essence LifeStealer plunged into the bodies of Feng, Tu Long and other raiders lying on the floor. A sweet rush of power filled her veins as she drank deep of them. Tu Long was the greater bounty, still living as she was exsanguinated and souldrained but the other corpses provided their bounties. She felt her strength swell, to the point she had to force herself not to break through to core formation. Now the smoke was naught but an insignificant irritant. Now the rest of this encounter would be simple. She could use his corpse to rebuild her gang while she tempered her soul for tribulation.
WIth an exultant roar she rushed forward cracking the ground beneath her from her strength. With an effort of concentration as she charged, she formed the Hungering Demon's Axe from her blood empowered to never before seen heights. Surprisingly the Golden Devil didn't seem panicked at her empowerment. His shield met her charge and he was launched backwards, thrown clear from the cave. Laughing uproariously through the fires, she rushed after him. She couldn't let him escape.
There he was on the open hillslope away from the entrance, alone and exposed, not even running. He was set to meet her charge again. Gan was more than eager to provide it. When his defenses inevitably failed, the rending edge of her willed weapon would taste bronze flesh.
Suddenly, Qi swelled from within him and a glowing armored figure wielding bronze spear and shield enclosed him. A formation? But where were the others? No matter, this had to be an illusion. She roared as she charged forward and the glowing illusion leveled its spear.
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The hole torn in Gan's chest smoked furiously, flesh bubbling and regenerating as her earring glowed and she screeched in rage, her axe clanging furiously against the Hoplite's shield. The Hoplite stepped forward and stabbed her again and again, then more after she could no longer stand. The Hoplite dissipated as the Bronze cultivators finally fell out of formation. Simon's mind reemerged, savoring every recent memory of when they had been one.
"Hoo! That would have been bad if she had broken through!" shouted Sophia Choniates, a 1-Pillar Foundation builder. "Too much of a gamble, Simon."
"She wouldn't have," countered Valens, also a 1-Pillar Foundation builder. "She would have failed the tribulation. If she was ready she would have eaten the gang already, like you told me Simon?"
"That's right, that's just how these cannibal scum operate," said Simon. "I've seen it time and again. And now we have a peak foundation-building corpse to sell."
"Even so," said Manuel Raoulina, a 2-Pillar Foundation builder," you should increase our shares. Entering Hoplite formation
before dropping concealment was tough. And I'm the one who got the runner," he gestured to the body of the bare-fisted blood heretic.
"It's okay. You can divide half my share between you if you spend another week helping me develop my Rushing Psiloi Formation." Seeing grumbles and nods of consideration, it was enough for Simon. "Don't all agree at once now. Let's clean up the mess first."
The looting wouldn't take but an hour, return with the dead civilians and dead guilty a few more. When they finally got back to Waycastle Thrake he'd have a chance to write back to Lipita.
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Lipita Delphi gained a renewed appreciation of penpals during her convalescence. Most people couldn't come to her, but they could write. Her recovery had accelerated when her family brought a core expert to treat her; her meridians no longer felt like salt channels carved into open flesh and she could actually cycle from the spiritual qi in the Dawn Fortress without seizing like a fish pulled onto land. All the same, the quiet got to her in her room. She hadn't had many visitors apart from Victor Wulf, Kokkinos Laoshi and senior Gaius. She spotted an interesting name in her pile of correspondence. Simon Euaerizo had helped polish her combat ability in the lead up to her departure for the Yuan clan. That desperate maneuver she'd used against Kai Meng was a tactic born out of those sessions. Never give up indeed.
The way Kai Meng had attacked her and senior Gaius was infuriating. She'd written Simon and others
That encounter had been infuriating in the way she and senior Gaius had been attacked and she'd wondered about what it meant that virtue was seen in such acts. Having nothing else to do, writing inquiries to seniors was as good a use of her time as any and look, she'd received a response.
To Lipita Delphi,
…your mothers for me.
What can I instruct you about righteousness that you don't already know in your heart? Many claim it, but their actions prove their self-seeking vainglory. The sects of the Plains and the Mountains trumpet their principles, calling themselves the Righteous Path, yet they stand aside when innocents cry out. I won't tell you righteousness is naturalness and nonaction. I certainly won't tell you that righteousness is compassion, moderation and humility! I won't insist that it is
arete* either.
I believe righteousness is whatever brings harmony among the people. It is not necessarily always clean, or done in the light of day. Sometimes, you lend your strength to the betterment of others. It may require you sacrifice of yourself because the greater good demands it. It may require you sacrifice others. Perhaps I too am deluded, fooling myself to excuse my own deeds. But this is the difference between the lives I've lived. One as a slave in a world where fear and violence reigned for the sake of unlimited ambition. The other as a member of a family and a clan, where each work for the sake of each other, and courage and order abide as a result.
We are not perfect, as the ideal forms do not exist in this Realm. But disregard the opinion of hypocrites. Evaluate your own righteousness and know that it is worthy, regardless of what they say.
Yours,
Centurion Simon Euaerizo
*
Arete - Wikipedia
4046 words in the story count.
