A Pawn's Passage

After walking for nearly an hour, the light ahead suddenly brightened.

Deep within the forest lay a circular clearing, with a gigantic black tree at the very center.

This tree was far larger than any of the others. No trees grew around it, which was why the clearing had formed in the first place. Its canopy was likewise vast enough to block out the sky and sun. However, there was a ring-like gap between its crown and those of the surrounding trees, allowing shafts of daylight to filter down.

The black tree was grotesquely twisted, resembling a hunched old man. Its trunk looked like countless vines braided together and forcibly twisted by some immense external force. Beneath the black bark were faint traces of crimson streaks. Innumerable roots protruded above the ground like massive blood vessels, and it almost seemed as though blood was slowly flowing through them.

Human-faced fruits also hung from the tree’s branches, each as large as an actual human head. Their facial features were no longer vague and indistinct, but clear, detailed, and lifelike. They looked like severed heads hanging from every branch. It even seemed like the heads were still alive.

The leaves were a deep ink-green, so dark that they appeared almost black.

When the wind blew through the branches, they rustled loudly, sounding like the applause of ghosts.

Qi Xuansu and Madam Wu did not rashly leave the forest path and enter the clearing. Instead, they concealed themselves within the darkness of the woods and observed the solitary black tree from afar.

In a low voice, Madam Wu said to Qi Xuansu, “If I’m not mistaken, countless corpses are buried beneath this tree. If you lift any one of those roots, you’ll probably find a body underneath. If you chop the tree with a blade, I’m willing to bet blood will start spurting out.”

Qi Xuansu replied, “Why would I go and chop it? Is this a humanoid insect nest?”

“Definitely not,” Madam Wu said with certainty. “A humanoid insect’s nest is usually divided into two layers. The outer layer looks almost no different from an ordinary human residence. In fact, it can even have an immortal, ethereal atmosphere for deceiving people. Otherwise, the humanoid insects back then could never have infiltrated the Daoist Order. The inner layer, where they lay their eggs, is like being inside the body of some enormous creature. Everywhere you look, there are masses of flesh, slime, and silken strands. Everything—the ground, the walls, the doors of the residence—is made of flesh and membrane. It’s absolutely revolting. I have no desire to ever visit such a place again.”

Although Qi Xuansu had seen Master Wan’s true form and had become somewhat desensitized to such horrors, viewing something from afar was one thing, while coming into close contact with it was quite another.

Qi Xuansu chose not to inquire further, as there was no reason to make himself uncomfortable.

A place comparable to the outer regions of the Ghost Kingdom was naturally highly suspicious. Anyone could tell that something was wrong here. Therefore, Qi Xuansu and Madam Wu decided to lie in wait and see what might appear. Perhaps they would uncover something useful.

The two were extremely patient, waiting in silence for roughly two days. Their method of passing the time was simple—closing their eyes and meditating.

Around midnight, Madam Wu whispered, “Someone’s coming. Stay hidden.”

Qi Xuansu immediately concealed his presence, becoming as inconspicuous as a weathered stone. Madam Wu had her own methods and required no assistance from him.

A figure descended from the sky. Though it appeared to be human, it more closely resembled a walking skeleton. It wore a billowing black cloak and carried a giant, long-handled scythe. Occasionally, glimpses beneath the cloak revealed wrinkled, scaly skin covered with tumor-like growths and black cracks. In some places, white bone was exposed, while shriveled muscles still clung to parts of the body.

Qi Xuansu had seen this person before.

This figure had appeared during the Battle of Monclova. He belonged to the Western Daoist Order’s military hierarchy as a chosen servant of an ancient god.

The concept of a chosen servant was somewhat similar to the Daoist Order’s Spirit Guards. The difference was that chosen servants received divine power from ancient gods, whereas Spirit Guards were empowered by the Daoist Order.

The Daoist Order possessed vast resources and could support enormous Spirit Guard legions. The ancient gods were not nearly so rich in divine power, so the number of chosen servants remained relatively limited. The chosen servant’s strength depended entirely on how much divine power their patron god provided. At their strongest, they were only slightly inferior to an ancient god’s divine incarnation.

However, a chosen servant could not be fully equated with an ancient god’s incarnation, nor with a vessel for the god. The issue of accommodating the ancient god’s will remained. No matter what, divine power wielded personally by the god was always more potent. Others could never quite match the original.

The advantage of chosen servants was that the ancient gods could take a back seat and leave matters to their agents. Since chosen servants had independent wills, the gods themselves could remain detached. For example, when fighting against the Steam Evangelical Sect, sending a chosen servant was effectively the same as an ancient god. To the ancient gods, such conflicts were merely opportunities.

Even though Qi Xuansu did not recognize Samuel’s holy emblem, he knew that among the Fallen Apostles there was one renowned for wielding a scythe.

Since this figure also wielded a giant scythe, Qi Xuansu had initially assumed he was somehow connected to Samuel, the Death Apostle. Later, he learned that there really was a connection. This very scythe had been taken from one of Samuel’s chosen servants after the man had killed him. Since the weapon’s affinity aligned well with his own powers, both embodying aspects of death, he had adopted it as his personal armament.

Samuel was unable to descend directly into the mortal world. Left with little choice, he could only dispatch another chosen servant to reclaim the weapon.

This person was Utu, Ixchel’s chosen servant.

Even the divine domain of death could be divided into different aspects. Kukulkan’s authority over death emphasized the process of dying itself and connected naturally to his domain of war, as war led to slaughter, and slaughter led to death. Ixchel, on the other hand, was a moon goddess who also had partial authority over death. But hers concerned the world of the dead, the repose of departed souls. The connection lay in the idea that the dead awakened beneath the moonlight and that spirits wandered at night. Thus, Utu’s appearance resembled a corpse after death.

By comparison, the divine authority of True Lord Siming encompassed both aspects. Death was his primary domain, whereas Kukulkan and Ixchel merely possessed secondary associations with death.

In the era of the Holy Xuan, Earthly Immortals traveled all over the world, shaping the course of human affairs. Today, Earthly Immortals remained powerful, but Godly Immortals had quietly risen as well, becoming a force that could no longer be ignored.

Qi Xuansu was not too surprised by this. He communicated with Madam Wu through his mind voice, “The waters are getting murkier by the day. Now, Ixchel has entered the game as well. Rumors say that Ixchel is the true power behind the Heron Society and that Hun Ahau is one of its important members. Now, Utu, Ixchel’s chosen servant, has appeared at the Hun Manor. It seems the Heron Society has finally revealed itself.”

Madam Wu replied, “Don’t jump to conclusions yet. Let’s keep watching.”

Utu rested the giant scythe on his shoulder and circled the tree once. He then knocked down a human-faced fruit and casually began eating it. The fruit contained two kinds of fluid. The outer layer bled red liquid, while the interior contained a white substance resembling brain matter. The sight was thoroughly disgusting.

After finishing the fruit, Utu leaned against the tree trunk, holding the scythe in his arms, seemingly waiting for someone.

Hidden in the darkness, Qi Xuansu and Madam Wu likewise remained silent, waiting alongside Utu.

About two hours later, an elderly voice said, “Utu, you’re quite punctual.”

The words were spoken in the Central Plains’ official tongue.

Due to the Western Daoist Order’s policy of sinicization, Utu also spoke standard Central Plains speech. His accent was remarkably authentic, carrying the unmistakable accent of the Imperial Capital.

He said, “Stop hiding in the shadows. Show yourself.”

As soon as he finished his sentence, a vermilion sedan chair swept through the air. It was carried by four young attendants—two boys and two girls—walking across empty space itself.

Seated cross-legged within the sedan chair was an elderly man dressed in luxurious blue robes embroidered with flood dragons emerging from the sea. His complexion was rosy and healthy, while his snow-white hair cascaded loosely down his shoulders.

Upon closer look, the four attendants were not living people but paper effigies. The craftsmanship was so exquisite that they seemed almost alive.

This was a distinctly Central Plains style of artistry, entirely different from the effigies of the Southern Continent. However, since the estate itself was built in a traditional Central Plains style, their presence did not appear out of place.

Qi Xuansu watched the scene in silence.

A thought suddenly occurred to him. If the East were to decline and the West were to rise to dominance, would the lands of the East become filled with Western-style buildings? Would everyone wear Western suits, eat Western cuisine, observe Western etiquette, study Western languages, regard the West as the pinnacle of civilization, and consider the ability to travel to Western nations a mark of prestige?

Most likely, they would.

Admiration for strength was human nature. Strength was often seen as “right.” Though the Holy Court has slaughtered countless people, as long as it remains powerful, there will always be those willing to excuse its actions and argue in its defense.

After the extravagantly dressed old man landed, he merely flicked his sleeve. The paper attendants and the vermilion sedan chair immediately began shrinking until they were no larger than marbles. The old man casually stored them in the embroidered pouch hanging from his waist. Were it not for the sinister atmosphere of the place, the display would have seemed quite ethereal.

Utu and the old man then began a private discussion. They were highly cautious. Even after choosing such a remote and eerie meeting place, they still erected barriers to prevent eavesdropping.

For Qi Xuansu, forcibly overhearing their conversation was not particularly difficult. The real challenge was doing so without being detected. Utu’s strength was not to be underestimated. Although he was no match for Madam Wu, in terms of cultivation level alone, he was in no way inferior to Qi Xuansu. The old man was clearly no ordinary figure either.

Neither Qi Xuansu nor Madam Wu chose to take the risk. They continued suppressing their presence and simply observed from a distance.

Although they could not hear the details of the conversation, they could clearly see the men’s actions. Utu lifted one of the giant roots and dug up three corpses buried beneath it. The old man repeatedly shook his head, after which Utu buried the bodies once more.

The old man then plucked a human-faced fruit from the tree and took a bite. He slowly savored it, smacking his lips thoughtfully while continuing to shake his head. It did not seem as though he intended to eat it. Rather, he appeared to be testing its flavor.

Seeing this, Qi Xuansu asked Madam Wu with his mind voice. “Madam Wu, didn’t you say human-faced fruits weren’t particularly useful? Why do these two look like they’re growing the tree?”

Madam Wu rolled her eyes. “I’ve never grown one, and I’ve never eaten one. I just happened to recognize the thing. How would I know?”

Qi Xuansu said nothing further and fell into deep thought.

Among this chain of events, some incidents seemed coincidental while others clearly were not. Yet taken together, it felt as though an invisible hand was steadily pushing Qi Xuansu forward.

At that moment, Utu swung his giant scythe and knocked down more than a dozen relatively mature human-faced fruits. This was merely Qi Xuansu’s guess, but it seemed that the clearer and more distinct the facial features became, the more mature the fruit was. The ones Utu harvested were almost indistinguishable from actual human heads.

Afterward, Utu and the old man split the harvest evenly between them, each taking half of the human-faced fruits before departing in separate directions.