Dream Sword

"So it really was this heavily guarded... even more orderly than I'd imagined."

An Jing had sensed as much before, but now he could see that even a hidden training ground in some secluded sect's mountain wilderness couldn't explain defenses planned on this scale. This was clearly designed to withstand an army's attack.

Xuanming Manor was enormous, with its overall layout resembling the characters 田, 一, 申, 一, 田.

At the center of the 申-shaped section stood the Medicine Pavilion. The place where the children trained lived took up less than a quarter of it.

The two 田-shaped sections lay halfway up the slopes on either side of Xuanming Manor. Quite a few medicinal herbs grew there, and during training, An Jing could see people working the fields.

Behind Xuanming Manor lay the back mountain, with its waterfall and deep pool—one of the manor's water sources. Beyond that was a vast canyon. From Instructor Li and the others, An Jing had learned that it was called Xuanming Valley, and that the manor was named after it. The valley was very deep, but he had never seen it with his own eyes.

An Jing moved silently through the darkness.

Although all the instructors had reached the Internal Breath realm, their martial skills weren't especially impressive. After all the subtle probing he'd done over time, An Jing had learned that every one of them had been a "failure" in the tests of the past.

What exactly counted as failure probably depended on whether one awakened a Fate Grid in the end. Even without one, though, they could still cultivate their Internal Breath until it surged like a tide.

At the county level, that was already strong enough.

There may still be a few instructors on patrol. Better to be careful.

An Jing never underestimated his opponents. He circulated his fully mastered Linyuan Qi-Nurturing Stake, drawing his aura inward until it was almost nonexistent.

Not only that, but his muscles tightened all over, holding his body in precise balance with a force that was even more compact and restrained, ready to unleash the strength he had stored throughout his body.

It was no wonder An Jing had guessed that Xuanming Manor was a place for raising assassins and expendable fighters. This cultivation method was perfectly suited to infiltration. What was more, after nurturing his qi, he could unleash Armor-Piercing True Energy; the two techniques combined to produce a terrifying burst of power in an instant. It was a genuine way of staking everything on one strike.

This method of martial cultivation was exceptionally advanced. Ordinary martial arts schools in the city couldn't teach it. With An Jing's experience, he knew this explosive, life-or-death technique was good enough to serve as the trump card of some renowned school.

If they could teach skills like this, they shouldn't be so short-sighted... They'd spent so much money buying children to teach them martial arts. It made no sense to kill them off on a whim...

And those instructor-riders, servants, and attendants seemed to be the children who had been eliminated from training in the past... Without a Fate Grid, they were eliminated in the end. Those strange beast meats and medicinal liquids were probably meant to catalyze Fate Grids—or bring people close to awakening one?

Fate Grids, Fate Grids... Could they really be artificially catalyzed by other means? Something about it just didn't feel right...

Though he murmured to himself, even now An Jing was reluctant to suspect Xuanming Manor.

After all, in these troubled times, Xuanming Manor had still saved many people.

Perhaps he himself wouldn't have needed their rescue, but the other children had indeed been given a chance to live because of Xuanming Manor.

Moving as quickly as he could, An Jing surveyed the restricted areas below him. But overall, there was nothing unusual.

The buildings mostly held medicinal herbs and other ingredients, or books and illustrated records. Some were empty. People might have lived in them once, but no one had been there for at least seven or eight years.

Of course, the fact that no one had been there for seven or eight years was strange in itself. Why were those buildings empty? Had Xuanming Manor once had more students?

Seven or eight years ago... ten years ago... wait, that period...

An Jing's pupils contracted slightly. The Hanhai Demonic Calamity?

Right! During the Hanhai Demonic Calamity, just as with the Frost Calamity in the Northern Frontier today, there would have been many Children of Calamity. The Hanhai Demonic Calamity had been far more devastating than a cold-weather disaster of heavy snow and bitter chill. Xuanming Manor must have been able to find more Children of Calamity willing to sell themselves!

Once he'd thought it through, An Jing found that there was even less that seemed out of the ordinary.

If anything, the only strange thing was that he couldn't find anyone.

Could they really have been sent down the mountain already?

An Jing was a little baffled. If Zhang Ying hadn't been one of his little brothers ever since the second day after she arrived at the manor, he wouldn't have wanted to find her in the first place.

But now, he had searched the entire main manor and found no trace of her.

With a quiet sigh, An Jing decided to head back. "Forget it. I'd better get back to sleep. I still have training tomorrow."

But just as An Jing turned to leave, he heard a strange sound.

It was like the sharp cry of a bird, or a person's scream. It lasted only an instant, then vanished.

"What was that?"

An Jing immediately turned around and looked toward the sound.

It had come from the Medicine Pavilion.

"What was that sound..."

Curious, An Jing slowly approached the Medicine Pavilion.

But just then, a strange voice rang out.

[Stop...]

The voice was clear and unfamiliar. It seemed to belong to a woman—bright and lively, like a bird's song or a clear spring flowing.

But... there was something else in it, something more resilient, more keen-edged.

Like... the ringing of a sword vibrating!

In a solemn, cautioning tone, the voice said: [Halt]

Who?!

An Jing stopped abruptly. He halted his approach to the Medicine Pavilion and glanced around in astonishment, but saw nothing.

The stars and moon shone bright, and moonlight veiled the world like gauze. Beneath the night sky, everything was utterly still. No one had been roused, and not a trace of the sound remained.

It all seemed like an illusion, a moment of mishearing.

Yet the word "Halt" still echoed in An Jing's mind, like a reverberation among overlapping mountains. It remained perfectly clear, never growing hazy as it echoed, only fading away little by little.

The voice, so full of warning, instantly calmed An Jing's restless thoughts. A feeling of peace and clarity spread through him, like a cold raindrop falling from the sky. The moment it touched the Heart Lake, it cleared everything, and the rippling water became still as a mirror once more.

Did someone help me?

After calming down, An Jing took several deep breaths and stared at the Medicine Pavilion before him. He realized how rash he had been.

The Medicine Pavilion was different from everywhere else. It was always brightly lit, with hanging lanterns and numerous oil lamps illuminating every inch of it as if it were dusk.

If he went any closer, he would certainly be discovered.

...He couldn't get any closer. But who had that voice belonged to? Why had it warned him to halt?

Why had it warned him at all?

What exactly were the adults at Xuanming Manor doing? What were they plotting?

Slowly exhaling, An Jing pressed down the agitation and lingering fear in his heart, then turned to leave.

Clearly, this wasn't the time to keep investigating. And now that he'd realized how rash he'd been, he knew he needed to make more preparations.

In the end, he returned to the dormitory and lay back down.

In the silence and darkness, still full of questions, An Jing fell asleep once more.

In his dream, he saw hunger. He saw beasts. He saw fangs honed to razor sharpness, the sound of grinding teeth and roars, and flesh slick with blood, bones, and a heart still beating.

They endured. They waited.

It wasn't time yet. They whispered.

Not now. An Jing spoke in his dream.

At the very end, An Jing dreamed of a cold glimmer.

He dreamed of a sword.