Fifty li north of Chier County City lay a secluded valley. A clear stream ran through it, wildflowers grew along both banks, and a small waterfall murmured farther in, making for a tranquil setting.
Linley and Wharton settled down there.
Deep in the valley was a natural cave, its entrance concealed by vines. The brothers tidied it up and spread some dry grass inside, turning it into a temporary home. Haeru dozed at the entrance, while Bebe darted around catching field mice and wild rabbits for a treat.
"Brother, how long are you going to stay here?" Wharton asked.
"I don't know." Linley sat beside the stream, watching the water flow. "The next realm after Momentum is the Laws, but I can't even find the entrance. Grandpa Doehring said the Laws depend on insight. You can't rush them."
Wharton nodded, drew his heavy sword, Mountain Suppressor, and went to practice beside the pool beneath the waterfall. His swordplay grew simpler and simpler. Often, he spent an entire day practicing a single movement-a downward chop. Yet each time his sword fell, the pool exploded, sending water several zhang into the air.
Linley sat cross-legged by the stream and closed his eyes in meditation.
He recalled three years of fighting in the Mountain Range of Magical Beasts, the strike that had killed Clayde, and the look in One-Eyed Snake McKinley's eyes before he died. Flashes of his blade, blood, moments balanced between life and death... The scenes passed through his mind one by one, then slowly settled and condensed.
Sometimes he stood, drew Slaughter, and swung it through the air. He wasn't practicing techniques; he was searching for a feeling-the feeling of the blade moving with his heart, his heart following the blade, and blade, man, and heaven and earth becoming one.
The days passed, peaceful as the stream in the valley.
But the world beyond the valley was anything but peaceful.
On the evening of the seventh day, Linley was roasting fish when he suddenly raised his head and looked toward the entrance to the valley.
"Someone's coming," he said.
Wharton stopped practicing. "How many?"
"Six. Their auras are strong, at least the ninth rank. And... magical fluctuations. Light Element."
The brothers exchanged a look, then put out the campfire and hid in the bushes beside the cave without needing to say a word. Bebe and Haeru hid as well.
About a quarter of an hour later, six figures appeared at the entrance to the valley.
They all wore unremarkable gray robes, but their steps were steady and their auras restrained. They were clearly experts. Their leader was a dignified-looking, blond middle-aged man with a slender sword at his waist. A white gem was set in its hilt-the standard equipment of a high-ranking knight of the Radiant Church.
"Cardinal Lampson," Wharton whispered. "I saw his portrait in O'Brien's intelligence reports."
Linley narrowed his eyes. A Cardinal had come in person, bringing five ninth-rank experts with him-four knights and a mage. That lineup was enough to wipe out the royal family of a small kingdom.
They were escorting a prisoner.
The man was bound in chains, with magic-suppressing shackles on his wrists and ankles, and staggered as he walked. He was an old man with disheveled white hair and a face full of wrinkles, but his eyes were bright, like burning ghost flames. He wore a tattered black robe and bore signs of torture, scabbed blood mingling with grime.
"Mr. Sessler, pick up the pace." Lampson's voice was gentle, but it brooked no argument. "We need to reach the next outpost before dark."
The old man, Sessler, sneered. "An outpost? You mean the execution grounds. Since when have you godmongers dared to kill people openly?"
"Watch your words," a ninth-rank knight snapped. "You committed the grave crime of blasphemy. The Church is already showing mercy by letting you die with your body intact."
"Mercy?" Sessler threw back his head and laughed, the sound hoarse and grating. "Sacrificing living people and extracting their souls-that's mercy? Then wouldn't a necromancer like me be a saint?"
A necromancer.
Linley's gaze sharpened. He knew of the profession-necromancers studied death and souls, and the Radiant Church regarded them as heretics to be killed on sight. But necromancers also often possessed a wealth of forbidden knowledge, such as the mysteries of the soul and... the truth behind the sacrifices.
Lampson frowned. "Shut up. The Inquisition will pass judgment on your crimes."
The group continued deeper into the valley. Clearly, they intended to spend the night here.
Linley and Wharton quietly retreated to the cave.
"Brother, should we save him?" Wharton asked.
Linley didn't answer immediately. Saving a necromancer meant openly and irrevocably breaking with the Radiant Church. Besides, it was hard to say whether Sessler was a good man. Necromancers had a reputation little better than bandits.
But...
"Clayde said my mother was sacrificed." Linley's voice was low. "Sessler is a necromancer. He must know the truth about the sacrifices. Besides, the enemy of my enemy is my friend."
Wharton understood. "Then let's do it?"
"Let's do it." Linley's gaze was resolute. "We can take six ninth-rank experts. But we can't let them send a distress signal-the Church must have other outposts nearby."
The plan was simple: ambush them, kill them quickly, and leave no survivors.
The brothers split up. Wharton circled around to the other side of the valley, ready to attack from behind. Linley hid in the bushes by the stream and waited for his chance.
As dusk fell, Lampson and his party made camp in a clearing beside the waterfall. Two knights went to gather firewood, one went to fetch water, the mage set about arranging a warning formation, and Lampson personally guarded Sessler.
The moment had come.
Linley gripped his throwing knives, his eyes fixed on the mage. He had to take him out first, or there would be trouble if the alarm got out.
But just then, something unexpected happened.
Sessler suddenly raised his head and looked toward the bushes where Linley was hiding. Across dozens of meters, those burning eyes found Linley's exact position.
Then he smiled.
He silently mouthed the words: Make your move.
Linley steeled himself and hesitated no longer. All twelve throwing knives flew out, not at the mage, but at Lampson and the knight guarding Sessler-to pin them down.
At the same time, Wharton charged out from behind.
He swung Mountain Suppressor, bringing it down on the mage setting up the formation with the crushing pressure of Mountain Momentum. The mage reacted swiftly and conjured a shield of light in an instant, but Wharton's strike was far more powerful than he had imagined. The shield shattered like an eggshell, and the blade crashed down on the mage's head.
Splurt.
It was like smashing a watermelon. Red and white matter flew everywhere, and the mage fell without so much as a scream.
"Enemy attack!" Lampson roared, drawing his sword to block the throwing knives.
The remaining four knights swiftly formed a battle formation. Two protected Lampson, while two charged at Wharton. But Linley was already moving.
"Drifting Blood Momentum!"
Blade light like crimson moonlight swept across the stream toward Lampson. The strike was too fast, too tricky. Lampson only had time to twist aside before his left arm was severed at the shoulder.
A scream rang out.
But Lampson was a Cardinal for good reason. Even gravely wounded, he didn't forget to strike back. He thrust his slender sword with his right hand, dazzling white light gathering at its tip-the ninth-rank Light Element spell Holy Light Pierce.
Linley neither dodged nor retreated. He slashed horizontally with Slaughter. Blade and sword collided, and white light burst forth, too bright to look at. But Linley's blade was faster and fiercer. It sliced through the slender sword and cut into Lampson's chest.
Ribs broke, and his heart shattered.
Lampson stared wide-eyed at the blade in his chest, then at Linley. A rasping sound came from his throat. "You... are Linley Baruch..."
"I am." Linley pulled out his blade. "Give my regards to my mother."
Lampson fell, his eyes still open in death.
Meanwhile, Wharton had finished his own fight. The two ninth-rank knights couldn't last ten exchanges against him. One had his breastbone smashed by the heavy sword, while the other lost his head. The remaining two tried to flee, but Bebe and Haeru had already pounced-one bit through a throat, and the other tore open an abdomen.
Six corpses. Less than three minutes had passed from the start of the ambush to the end.
Sessler sat where he was, still bound in chains but smiling. "Beautiful. Clean and decisive. You remind me of myself back in the day."
Linley walked over and cut through the chains with his blade. "Why did you help me?"
"Help you?" Sessler worked his stiff wrists. "No, no, no. You helped me. I merely gave you a reason to act."
He stood up. Though weak, he held his back ramrod straight. "Linley Baruch, I know who you are. Before Clayde died, he sent word back to the Church with a communication spell. They say you're a 'blasphemer' who must be eliminated."
Linley frowned. "Then you..."
"I have a grudge against the Church." Sessler's gaze turned cold. "Thirty years ago, they killed my wife, saying my research into necromancy was blasphemy. But I know what they were truly afraid of was that I'd discovered the truth about the sacrifices."
Silence.
Only the waterfall roared.
Linley slowly put away his blade. "So you defected?"
"Yes. I fled with my research and switched to studying necromancy." Sessler looked at Linley. "For thirty years, I've been investigating why they sacrifice people with pure souls. In the end, I found out a little, but they discovered me and captured me. If not for you, I'd have been sent to the stake tomorrow."
Linley stared at him. "What did you find out?"
Sessler shook his head. "I can't say. That knowledge is too dangerous; the fewer people who know, the better. But I can tell you that the purpose of the sacrifices is some kind of... transaction. The Church exchanges pure souls for 'divine grace.' I haven't yet learned exactly what that is."
A transaction. Divine grace.
Linley recalled Clayde's words-he had sacrificed Linley's mother in exchange for greater power.
"Then how can you help me?" Linley asked.
"Help you?" Sessler smiled. "No, this is cooperation. You brothers are powerful, but you lack intelligence and knowledge of the Church. I, on the other hand, know how the Church operates, its weaknesses, and the backgrounds of its Cardinals, chief inquisitor, and Ascetic leaders."
He looked at Linley. "We have a common enemy. You want revenge, and so do I. If we work together, we both benefit."
Wharton walked over. "Brother, he has a point."
Linley considered it for a moment. "What do you want?"
"Protection," Sessler said. "The Church won't let me go. I need a safe place to continue my research. In return, I can help you grow stronger-necromancy has some forbidden techniques that can rapidly strengthen the soul. And I know where to find the relics of people with pure souls."
"Relics?"
"Yes," Sessler said. "Every person with a pure soul who is sacrificed leaves behind a 'soul relic'-an item bearing a portion of their soul power. Your mother's relic should still be in the Church's treasury. If you can get it, it would greatly benefit your soul cultivation."
Linley was tempted.
Something his mother had left behind... Even if it was only a relic, he had to get it.
"All right." He held out his hand. "We'll work together."
Sessler clasped his hand, his thin fingers strong. "We'll work together."
The agreement was made.
The three began disposing of the corpses. Sessler took a small bottle from his robes and poured out some black powder-the necromantic "corpse-dissolving powder." He sprinkled it over the bodies, and flesh and bones rapidly melted away. Even the clothes vanished, leaving only pools of black liquid that seeped into the soil.
"Clean." Sessler nodded in satisfaction.
Linley searched Lampson and the others for spoils. Their six interspatial rings contained large amounts of gold coins, magical materials, Light Element scrolls, and several Saint-level weapons. Unfortunately, the weapons had light attributes, so Linley and Wharton couldn't use them, but they could sell them.
"We've made a fortune." Wharton weighed the rings in his hand. "Brother, where to next?"
Linley looked east. "The O'Brien Empire. It's a nation of warriors, and the Church has little influence there. It's a good place for us to develop."
Sessler nodded. "The empire is indeed a good choice. But before that, I suggest we visit another place."
"Where?"
"Black Valley," Sessler said. "It's a gathering place for necromancers, and I have a few old friends there. We can replenish our supplies and gather intelligence. Most importantly, I can help check whether you're carrying any 'hidden dangers.'"
"Hidden dangers?"
"The Church has many methods." Sessler pointed at Linley and Wharton. "Soul marks, tracking spells, curses... You killed Clayde, and now you've killed Lampson. There's no way the Church hasn't taken measures. If you've been marked, they'll find you wherever you go."
Linley's heart tightened. That was indeed a problem.
"Where is Mist Valley?" he asked.
"Head northeast. It's about half a month's journey," Sessler said. "Don't worry, it's well hidden. The Church won't find it."
The brothers exchanged a look and nodded.
"Then we'll go to Mist Valley."
The three quickly packed and left that very night. Before departing, Linley took one last look at the valley where he had spent seven days. The stream still murmured, and the wildflowers still bloomed, but blood had been spilled and lives lost here. It would never return to its original peace.
"Brother." Wharton patted him on the shoulder. "Let's go."
Linley turned and followed his younger brother and Sessler.
Moonlight fell across the mountain path, stretching the three men's shadows long. The road ahead was uncertain, and their enemies were powerful, but they had a new ally and a new direction.
Sessler walked ahead, then suddenly spoke. "Linley, do you hate the Church?"
"I do." Linley didn't hesitate.
"Then remember that hatred." Sessler's voice was somber. "Hatred is a fire. It can burn your enemies and light the road ahead. But don't let it burn you up-your mother wouldn't want you to become a monster who lives only for revenge."
Linley said nothing and tightened his grip on his blade's hilt.
Yes, his mother surely wouldn't want that.
So he would not only take revenge, but also live, live a life of brilliance, and live as a member of the Baruch Clan should.
He looked at Wharton. His younger brother was looking at him too, his gaze resolute.
With the brothers united, they could cut through metal.
And with an experienced old mage beside them, they could walk this road.
As the night deepened, the three disappeared into the mountains.
Meanwhile, thousands of li away, on the Radiant Church's Holy Island, six soul lamps in a secret chamber went out one after another.
The priest watching over them turned deathly pale and scrambled out to report it.
"Lord Cardinal Lampson... has fallen!"