Interlude: The Silkworm/The Centipede Princess/The Damned Archer (Patreon)

Hello. It's me. Plutus. He who cultivates the Dao of Delays. I'm sorry for this week and this chapter in particular given how long its taken. This arcs chapters have taken longer to write as I have a vision I'm trying to make sure fits together. Added to that, this chapter is longer than usual, adds Bao Si's POV for the first time, and is also the first Multi-PoV that I've ever done so it took longer. Went back and forth a bunch. Please let me know what you think in the comments. Also if anyone ever wants to keep up to date with news or Delays then check out the Discord, although you'll need to connect your Discord to Patreon if you want to access the Patreon only channels. Anyway thanks for your patience this week. Cheers!

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Friends. Fame. Fortune. What more did a man need in life? They weren’t necessarily things that required one to travel and adventure to retrieve. If Xie Jin holed up in the Basin and quietly cultivated till he became a Crystal Transformation, then all three of those things would inevitably flock to him.

But what was the point of a life lived like that?

There was a whole world out there. Places far and near that occupied the same threads in the tapestry of history as Zumulu did but wove entirely different pictures from them. There was so much amazing depth to their home that many declared they would never leave it and were not interested in any other place. Xie Jin had butted heads with these elders more than once. Who in their right mind would stand in front of art and only look at one corner of it rather than the whole? Zumulu was so amazing already. What of the rest of the world? His grandfather had chided him on his opinion before, that he wasn’t seeing the trees for the jungle. Xie Jin would counter that even in colorful Zumulu with its myriad flora, fauna, and forms. The trees still looked the same.

Though he had to admit, it could still surprise him every now and then.

It had been a rough start to the Trial. The forests were lethal, and the air poisoned the lungs. Brother Chen and Bao Si were nowhere to be found. That Garrison bastard had really misled them. It wasn’t surprising, really. Trust the Empire not to know how to interpret his people’s ruins. For any other Qi Realm, it would be a bad situation. Fortunately, Xie Jin was far from being a normal Qi Realm. This place was almost like a second home. He breathed worse poisons while cleaning his grandfather’s sheets. As for the trees, knife leaves? Hardly unique. Teeth leaves were worse. He’d collected two interesting durians he’d found. Their chemical gas was okay. He’d made similar during his etiquette classes when he was younger. They’d make good makeshift bombs once he infused Gu poison into them.

He would need it. There were too many Liquid Meridians crawling around. The bastards were practically occupying the pyramids. Besides observing how they worked at a distance, Xie Jin steered clear from them. He would just find some closer to the center. He doubted those high and mighty Garrison bastards were paying attention to the pyramids anyway. If they did then they’d know that where the stone oroboros’s heads met tails represented North and South. Using that combined with his Gu and it didn’t take Xie Jin long to figure out the direction the center of the trial was in. He did run into a weird barrier on the way but it wasn’t blocking him. Probably another feature of the trial, he’d leave it to the Liquid Meridians to figure out. He made his way deeper into the trial grounds and luxuriated in the rising ambient qi.

There were way more available pyramids here. Conversely, that meant he had no one to challenge to complete them quickly. Waiting them out wasn’t entirely bad, at least until his Gu alerted him to an approaching Liquid Meridian, and he was forced to bug out. He was fortunate enough to wait out the timer on a few pyramids, however, and got some decent rewards. The edibles were eaten immediately for his advancement push. The non-edible and not immediately useful were stored away. It would hurt to be forced to give them up to the Garrison once he left the Trial, but it was a trade-off he was willing to accept. They weren’t that good anyway. The best rewards would come from actively challenging people, not waiting. In a way, it was representative of Xie Jin’s own beliefs. Truly the ancients were wise.

Hopefully, Brother Chen and Bao Si were faring better than him. With their strength, they were in a better position to benefit from the Trial than he was. It was a bit frustrating that he’d have to scavenge his way between stronger cultivators so that he could advance, but such was life. He could only blame himself for the sin of being weak when he needed to be strong. Fortunately, Lady Luck still loved her weaklings. He found an occupied pyramid and, miracle of miracles, it was occupied by a Ninth-Layer Qi Realm.

Perhaps he, too, was the first Qi Realm the woman had seen thus far because she seemed relieved at the sight of him ascending the pyramid. Her bones marked her as a native. The butterflies decorating it spoke to her being from the Eastern jungles. Her stance and butterfly swords marked her as a warrior. Xie Jin would oblige her. His sleeve glowed purple. The women lunged, feathery blue qi dancing its way up her blades. Xie Jin leapt, his hand swinging. They met in the air for a brief before their jumps carried them past each other. Xie Jin adroitly landed at the top of the pyramid. The woman’s body landed heavily on the steps, covered in a swarm of purple insects, and rolled down. Her blade work was fine, but it was no match for his Swarm Control Skill.

Xie Jin turned his back on his fallen foe and went in to claim his prize. The light pillar collapsed unto itself, and the silver light collected around the altar. Xie Jin’s breathe hitched as a perfectly round, glass-like fruit with five perfect leaves materialized.

“Liquid Core Fruit.” He couldn’t keep the awe out of his voice.

This was it. His big break. He would become a Liquid Meridian and stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Brother Chen. He could hold his head high in front of his grandfather and say his way was not wrong—look at how he advanced. He gingerly took the fruit in hand.

The warning of his Gu came too late.

Not that it didn’t sense the incoming presence in time. It absolutely did. It just didn’t matter. By the time his Gu warned him, the cultivator had already closed the distance and appeared atop the pyramid. A vicious, animal-like qi washed over him, causing every single nerve to stiffen and every sense of his to scream at him to run.

The Ninth-Layer Garrison cultivator smirked and crossed his arms. “I thought I smelled something good, and I was right.” He sniffed the air. “Not you, though. Poisonous little bugger, ain’t you. Really did a number on that bird outside.”

Xie Jin quietly ordered his Gu to slink away while he adjusted his grip on the Liquid Core Fruit. The Garrison monster’s eyes were riveted on the fruit. Fat drops of red liquid qi dripped from him as if he were salivating, falling on the stone bricks and hunting for prey before turning on themselves.

“I am Captain Lu Aotian,” the Liquid Meridian suddenly declared.

Xie Jin struggled not to gulp. “In these sorts of situations its a bit suspicious to declare your name first. Someone might think you’re going to kill me.”

Lu Aotian nodded. “I am.”

Xie Jin measured the distance of his Gu. “But why?” he asked. “I haven’t done anything. If it’s the fruit you want, I have other things to exchange for it. If you let me refine it in peace, then I promise to be like a dog and horse for you throughout the entire trial.”

“You misunderstand,” Lu Aotian patronizingly said. “I’m not going to kill you for the Liquid Core Fruit. I’m going to kill you because you’re going to run and make me chase you. Don’t even lie to me. I can see it in your eyes. Rats like you all have the same face. I’m just saving myself a few seconds by getting it over with."

He took a single step.

“I’m a Black Bone Shaman,” Xie Jin blurted out.

Lu Aotian paused. A real look of consideration crossed his features. “A Black Bone Shaman? Interesting.” He took another step. “I’ll just have to kill your Gu first, then. Call it out.”

Xie Jin forced himself not to move. Just a little bit more…. “If you don’t leave me any room for escape, then I’ll just kill myself and curse you. You’re Trial will be ruined, maybe even your life.”

Lu Aotian took another step. “You said so yourself. Maybe. If it were any other Liquid Meridian, then I’m sure they’d be scared, but our power difference is too high for you to be sure. I’m a cut above the common rabble, you see. My father is Commander Lu of Stonebridge.”

Beast Disaster Lu, the Crystal Transformation Realm. No wonder he was taking his time. The son was just as much an animal as the father.

“Well? What is it you want to say?” Lu Aotian asked.

His Gu was ready. Purple miasma bloomed around Xie Jin, and he raised his middle finger. “Fuck you.”

Lu Aotian accelerated, but his hand clawed through nothing but air. Xie Jin appeared outside the pyramid and immediately started running away. Through his connection with his Gu, he could feel the danger it was in as it avoided Lu Aotian’s angry liquid qi and fled. The Substitution Technique was an advanced and little-utilized application of a Gu’s theft ability but just like any other Shaman skill once the right moment was found it was impeccable.

Unfortunately, he was too weak, or else he would have been able to fling himself a greater distance. It was only a matter of time before Lu Aotian found his trial and caught up to him. At that time he’d be well and truly screwed.

He looked at the Liquid Core Fruit.

He needed to advance.

——————

Age. The only thing that killed more cultivators than cultivators themselves. It hung like a heavy chain around every neck, and each new year only added another link. Cultivating to higher realms allowed a cultivator to carry that weight far easier than someone who hadn’t stepped foot on the path. Being able to bear that weight, however, did not make it any less heavy. A cultivator’s lifespan was a hard-earned reward given upon their reaching new heights of power. The stronger the qi, the longer the life—100 years for a Qi Realm, 200 for Liquid Meridan, 500 for Crystal Transformation, and 2 thousand for Star Core. Those were averages, however, not absolutes. Injuries and quality of qi had the final word on how long a cultivator lived, and certain natural treasures and powers could see a cultivator’s lifespan drastically increase.

Like Xi Wangmu’s Longevity Elixirs.

At Grandpa Xie’s behest, Bao Si had sat in the meetings between the clan’s elders as they conferred regarding the Peach River Sword School’s invitation to meet. The junior River Swordsmen who had relayed the message had been vague on the specifics as to why they were invited, but the identity of the sender was enough for them to guess. For the face of Xi Wangmu and the history of the Peach River Sword School, they were compelled to meet with them. Grandpa Xie had been very clear however, there were to be no deals to be made, especially with her Master being incommunicado, even if the Peach River Sword School offered a longevity elixir. Grandpa Xie, in his wisdom, had foreseen what they would say in advance as well as the means they would use to convince her.

Unfortunately, it was for the sake of that wisdom that Bao Si ignored his warning and sat down to negotiate with Xi Wangmu. Grandpa Xie was approaching the end of his life. How many years he had left she couldn’t say. Everyone knew it was coming however, and everyone was dreading and preparing for the day it did. Grandpa Xie had served as a source of sage wisdom and stability in the tribe for centuries. Without him, their recovery after the Empire’s invasion would have been nowhere near as smooth. Losing him now would mean losing a top combat power and font of experience, a serious blow to the tribe’s strength. There were also emotional reasons, of course. Grandpa Xie had raised her since she was a little girl and taught her what he knew. Any moment she could buy for him was incomparably precious. Emotional reasons alone, however, were no way to make decisions for the tribe. He had taught her that.

She was beginning to see his point. She’d made too many emotional decisions recently, and now look where it got her. She was going to wring Xie Jin’s neck once she found him. The fool was probably having the time of his life right now. Gallivanting across the Trial and pretending he actually shared anything in common with a dead culture on the opposite side of Zumulu. He was probably even risking his life exploring those damned pyramids. It was him. Always him that she had to worry about. After all, Grandpa Xie would be sad if something ever happened to him. At least she knew Chen Haoran could take care of himself. Ever since he’d gone from something fun to something serious his strength had been a concern. In these circumstances, however, he was more reliable than Xie Jin would be. Linking up with him was a priority.

At least, it was until she ran across a barrier. It was suspicious. Incredibly so. They were already in a Secret Realm. Why the need for an additional barrier cordoning off a separate area? She sent her Gu out to scout further down and found that the concentration of ambient qi grew higher further away from the barrier, so it wasn’t like it was in a particularly powerful area. Her question was soon, unfortunately, answered when a wounded Garrison Liquid Meridian appeared on the other side of the barrier. When he saw Bao Si, he seemed to see salvation, and he ran over and began pounding on the thin energy pane.

“Help me!” he urged. “Go find the other soldiers. Tell them its a trap—”

Bao Si looked coldly on as the soldier’s chest burst open and splattered blood and viscera across the barrier. A long, thick vine trailed from his chest and back into the jungle, where his killer revealed himself. He was covered head to toe in vine-woven armor. Atop the armor were even more vines wrapped around it, stemming from two lotuses that sat atop his shoulders: one ice blue, the other a fiery red. His Ninth-Layer Liquid Meridian cultivation did not target her but his using of qi weighed on her shoulders all the same.

Bao Si’s Gu slid out from her sleeve and hovered in front of her protectively while her tattoo writhed.

“Oh? A Black Bone Shaman?” The impossible vine man said. He pressed a fist to his chest and bowed his head. A Southern Jungle tradition. “It is an honor to meet a shaman from such a prestigious order. I must profess I did not expect to meet one here today.”

“Nor did I expect to meet a Rattan Armor soldier,” Bao Si neutrally replied.

How could she? If three things could be said to be unique to Zumulu, then it would be the Tenth Green Hell, Gu, and Rattan Armor Soldiers. The method of crafting the armor was a technical affair, part Technique, part real skill, with the craftsmen also growing and harvesting the Rattan vines used. This knowledge was precious, only passed down within families from parent to child, all to create a class of soldiers that could overcome the biggest strategic issue in mobilizing Liquid Meridians and create proper armies of them again rather than small warbands and loose, scattered formations. They were the highest standard of soldiery in Zumulu, even at times bringing the overmighty Orchard cities of the Peachwine to heel.

Naturally, the Empire made sure to kill every last one, loot their armor, steal the secrets of their crafting, then kill anyone else who knew how.

So why was one standing in front of her?

It was a question with an obvious answer.

“How are you related to Xi Wangmu?” she asked.

“Did the Queen Mother send you here?” The Rattan Soldier suspiciously asked before shaking his head. “No, impossible. She would have stopped this if she knew.”

“What?”

Knife trees rustled behind her followed by the sound of leaves sinking into the earth. Bao Si turned around to find a red-clothed Third-Layer Liquid Meridian emerge from the jungle. A cat-sized Mosquito Gu buzzed in the air around him.

“To think there was another fellow shaman so close to me. Should I count myself luck—” He stopped dead in his tracks and stared with wide eyes at the Rattan Armor Soldier and the bloody corpse at his feet. He then looked at Bao Si’s Gu. “You—you….”

“Ah. My apologies.” The Rattan Soldier easily passed through the barrier. “I’ll take care of this now, Lady Shaman.”

Bao Si pinched her brow. “Don’t say it like that. He’s going to misunder—”

“Murderers!” The Gu Department Shaman bellowed. He fiercely glared at Bao Si. “Is the Black Bone Tribe rebelling against the Empire?”

Well. Not a complete misunderstanding, really. Bao Si sighed. Her centipede tattoo writhed and crawled up and down her neck.

Then it peeled itself off.

Ink filled in and expanded into black carapace. Tiny etching of 177 pairs of legs lengthened and dagger-sharp. A metal-like gleam shined through sharp mandibles and an unearthly purple glow filled its tattooed eyes. The centipede released an ear-grinding screech that no bug should ever be able to make, and its aura rose, blowing away dust and dirt around her.

The Shaman paled. “How—how can you control a Liquid Meridian Realm Gu!?”

“Lady Shaman?” The Rattan Soldier said. Curiosity, not fear, was clear in his tone.

“Stay out of this,” Bao Si ordered him.

Despite having no reason to do so, the soldier nodded his head and stepped to the side.

The Shaman paced backward. His Mosquito Gu’s proboscis elongated to the length of a lance and dripped with blood. “Do you really think you can cross realms and fight?”

“I don’t plan on crossing realms,” Bao Si said. “I plan on advancing.” She pointed to the Shaman.

“Devour.”

——————

No matter what anyone had to say about the matter. Duan Ye would maintain with his dying breath the truth and nothing but.

He had shot him.

As a Seventh-Layer Liquid Meridian he was not like the lower layers that were made to drill and march in formation. His strong cultivation and arrow technique had seen him join the skirmishing force to pick off the critical Metal Element users and harry the high-layers of the Garrison while the regular forces ground them down. At first it had been going well, critical Garrison personnel had been dropping like flies and were fleeing like the dogs they were. He’d heard some soldiers gleefully exclaiming that they were successful beyond their wildest imaginations. Duan Ye allowed them their idiotic statements for the sake of morale. Their success was not a surprise. It was expected. Only fools and amateurs allowed themselves to be that surprised. They were merely reaping the benefits of a well-laid plan, nothing more, nothing less.

He was not lucky enough to slay the formation expert, but Duan Ye was proud to say that it was his arrows that laid low two Metal Spirit Roots. It was by happenstance afterwards that he loosed an arrow at the fleeing back of a random unaffiliated cultivator. He was an easy spot against the red uniforms of the Garrison and he’d recalled the Second-Layer had somehow noticed their presence at the last moment when they first ambushed the group. That sort of scouting ability could prove annoying even in the hands of a trifling ant so getting rid of him would be further credit. Duan Ye had already moved on after watching the arrow hit its mark and it was only after one of his fellow archer and competitor for glory ribbed him over not checking his marks that he realized the ant had survived and escaped, which was ridiculous to Duan Ye.

He had shot him.

It was a minor irritation all things considered. The ant would end up dead either way under their encirclement but him not dying was an affront to Duan Ye’s skill. The other archers might not have dared say anything where he could hear them but their mocking thoughts couldn’t be hidden from his keen eyes. Every arrow they fired after the ant during the chase had been an insult toward him. He was thankful the ant’s strange spirit beast blocked their arrows and dispelled their attempts to steal his prey from right in front of him. Duan Ye scoffed at them for their failure. The more difficult the ant was to kill the better he looked, lessening his own failure and magnifying his triumph when he finally killed the ant.

Once they’d trapped the Garrison dogs against the barrier it was only a matter of time. Their futile attempt to stall for time were brushed off by their superior soldiers. Duan Ye’s had to pick his shots carefully, he’d sent one to the ant and focused the rest on the stronger cultivators assaulting the emission node. No reason to let the enemy potentially escape. He found the ant still standing so he sent another. Then another. He’d underestimated the damn spirit beast’s liquid qi. It was really quite an annoying defense. The first snicker from the fools he’d just insulted was the last straw. He flooded qi to his arrow and engaged his Hidden Dragon Arrow Technique. Seeing it shoot across the battlefield and nail the ant in the head and carry him back into the barrier was cathartic.

At least it was.

Why did the ant get back up again?

He had shot him.

Duan Ye’s eye’s stung as the world flashed white.

His temporary blindness only enhanced the screams and bone-chilling sound of falling bodies and when Duan Ye cycled his qi and restored his vision he was treated to the horrifiying site of their vineshield wall chopped to pieces and the front line of their formation decimated.

The ant. Ant? Was charging toward them wielding a pure white sword. Why was he fast? The fallen front line began dying and losing control of their qi. Their Final Floods were absorbed by their armor and fueled the growth of masses of grasping vines that formed a new wall. The cultivator raised his sword and sword shadows scythed the earth and vines like they were naught but air. Their Water Spirit Roots flooded their liquid qi to form a barrier to block the clearly Metal Element attack. Why was it so strong? They had two hundred Liquid Meridians. The enemy was only a Second-Layer Liquid Meridian Realm. Even if his power was exaggerated beyond belief, alone there was no way he could defeat them.

He wasn’t alone.

Dogs that they were, the Empire’s soldiers were much like their masters in that they never let go of opportunity once they had it in their jaws. Their Earth Spirit Roots were quick to flood their own liquid qi, not enough to overwhelm their shield but enough to disrupt it in certain places. The cultivator was quick to capitalize on the opening, swinging his sword down like an executioners blade and releasing a long scythe of white energy that cleaved through liquid qi and armor alike. The cultivator dove into their ranks without care, surrounded by white shadows that obscured his face.

“Kill him!” His rival roared, drawing his bow back to its limits.

Their archers were impeccable. Their aim beyond reproach and their speed such that every second they released three arrows. Their Rattan Armor soldiers were brave and disciplined comparable to their forebears whose heavy legacy they shouldered. In the face of the incomprehensible they raised their spears and stepped forward to slay it.

White sword shadows flashed and split their archer’s arrows. Their soldiers spear fell on his flesh and broke. His pace did not stop in the face of man or vine. Where his sword swung a farmers harvest was reaped and the proud Rattan soldiers were like so much wheat. The Ninth-Layers around Duan Ye cursed and abandoned their bows to move in and deal with the cultivator personally. They were met by the Ninth-Layers of the Garrison. A bear-like man and one of pure fire flanked the cultivator, behind him the Garrison rushed into the gap and tore into the Rattan Armor Army with techniques.

“Duan Ye!”

Duan Ye instinctively knocked another arrow and filled it with qi.

Hidden Dragon Arrow

It flew like a green blur, invisible to the naked eye. Duan Ye had never shot a finer arrow in his life.

The cultivator twitched his sword and his proud arrow was split in twain. Both halves flying off and digging trenches in the earth behind him. The cultivator snapped his head over and his ruined face locked eyes with Duan Ye. His sword flashed and there were suddenly no more soldiers between them.

“Duan Ye! Shoot him!”

“I shot him,” Duan Ye said. He knocked another arrow.

The cultivator sprinted over, liquid qi pouring off him like a writhing dragon. A dragon’s roar filled Duan Ye’s ears and his grip slipped. A sword shadow flashed in front of him. His Profound-Rank bow was sliced cleanly in half. The hands holding it fell from his wrists. Duan Ye stumbled back, liquid qi and blood bleeding freely from his stumps that, for some unholy reason, he could not stop. The cultivator pounced and grabbed Duan Ye’s throat carrying them into the jungle in one bound. Behind them, Duan Ye could see his rival’s headless corpse. Why? How? As the Rattan Army and the Garrison disappeared from view, he could only wonder how this was possible.

He had shot him.