Dao of the World Walker (Xianxia) Book 2

”I really think we need to call Senior Brother Fan Xiao and the others,” Yang said quietly, his eyes fixed on the wall.

Both Senior Brothers Yuan Shen and Zhen Hao materialized at his side immediately. ”Are you alright?” Senior Brother Zhen Hao asked, his hand resting near his sword hilt. ”What did you find?”

Yang didn’t need to explain. The moment their eyes tracked his gaze to the faded mural covering the wall they knew.

It barely took a second before Senior Brother Yuan Shen had a talisman shoot out of his hand, and even less time before a rush of displaced air announced the arrival of Senior Brothers Fan Xiao, Qing An, and Song Weilong behind them. Yang turned to find all three of them scanning the room first before their attention settled on the mural.

”What do we have here?” Senior Brother Qing An stepped closer and let out a low whistle as he took in the scene depicted in the mural. ”Looks like we found our clue.”

Senior Brothers Fan Xiao and Song Weilong stepped up beside him, their expressions hardening as they processed the scene.

The image was clear enough even in its faded state. A woman laid on the altar, having her throat slit as her blood ran down the carved channels of the temple platform they had been standing on since they arrived.

”Not very useful to us, is it,” Senior Brother Yuan Shen remarked dryly, casting a theatrically hopeful look around the room. ”Unless someone is volunteering.”

”We are not sacrificing anyone,” Senior Brother Fan Xiao said, his eyes still on the image.

”It looks as though the whole city participated in these ritual,” Senior Brother Qing noted, stepping back to trace the sprawling crowd depicted along the bottom of the mural. ”Or at the very least, stood witness.”

”Not necessarily,” Senior Brother Song Weilong countered mildly. ”Paintings and other forms of imagery are prone to exaggeration and idealization. What the artist chose to depict and what actually took place may not have been the same thing.”

”I lean toward it being entirely accurate,” Senior Brother Yuan Shen interjected thoughtfully. ”Zhen Hao pointed out earlier that almost all windows throughout the city are oriented toward the temple, from the smallest dwelling to the largest ones. Every home faced the temple. This was a civilization built around absolute worship, and I think the ritual shown here was at the centre of that worship.”

Senior Brother Fan Xiao looked at the mural for a moment longer. ”I would agree with Yuan Shen. There is something eerie about this city and systematic human sacrifice would easily account for such residual malice. Blood leaves an indelible mark upon everything.” 

He turned to look at Yang, Senior Brother Zhen Hao, and Senior Brother Yuan Shen. ”All three of you are coming back to the temple with us. I am no longer comfortable leaving you to explore independently.” His gaze moved to Senior Brother Zhen Hao and cast a pointed look at him. ”And do not think I am unaware whose brilliant idea it was to venture underground without notifying me first.”

Senior Brother Zhen Hao opened his mouth to offer a quick defense, thought better of it under Senior Brother Fan Xiao’s heavy stare, and promptly clicked his jaw shut.

Before departing, Senior Brothers Fan Xiao, Qing An, and Song Weilong methodically scoured the rest of the subterranean hall, their spiritual senses probing every inch of the stone. 

Senior Brother Song Weilong paused as he stepped up near Yang. ”Did any of you find anything else worth note?”

”I did.” Senior Brother Yuan Shen produced the clay tablet. Senior Brother Song Weilong reached out and took it, tracing his fingers over the etched characters. ”This is a different language from the primordial script carved on the temple.”

Senior Brothers Fan Xiao and Qing An leaned in to inspect the tablet. ”It appears to be derived from the primordial script on the temple. A later development, perhaps. Something that evolved from it.”

Senior Brother Qing An pointed to several characters on the tablet. ”These ones repeat quite frequently on the eastern statue base.”

”Even so,” Senior Brother Song Weilong let out a faint, resigned sigh and handed the clay tablet back to Senior Brother Yuan Shen. ”The temple alone has thousands of distinct symbols and no common linguistic family we can draw upon for comparison. This is a different world with its own language system built on its own primordial script. Without a reference point the tablet cannot tell us anything useful. It is practically useless for our current needs.”

”We can only work with the mural,” Senior Brother Fan Xiao declared. He turned to Senior Brothers Song Weilong and Qing An. ”The three of us will go through the rest of the city quickly and check for additional murals or paintings before we leave. The others wait outside.”

All six of them climbed the stairs and emerged back into the orange-blue light of the realm above ground. Senior Brothers Fan Xiao, Song Weilong, and Qing An vanished into the ruins at a speed Yang could barely track, disappearing between the columns and walls within moments.

Yang took out his flying carpet, settled onto it cross-legged, and took out the needle case. If he was going to wait, he might as well use the time.

Senior Brothers Zhen Hao and Yuan Shen climbed up onto the carpet on either side of him.

”You really are dedicated, Junior Brother,” Senior Brother Zhen Hao said, watching the single needle rise from Yang’s palm and begin its uneven circuit. ”Try two. You seem to have the single needle well enough under control.”

”I lose the connection when I divide my attention,” Yang said. ”One needle and standing still is what I can manage.”

”You cannot wander around here freely anyway,” Senior Brother Yuan Shen said. ”And splitting your focus between two will improve your control when multitasking. Try it.”

Yang opened the case and took out a second needle. Senior Brother Yuan Shen reached over and picked it up, turning it between his fingers for a moment before handing it back.

”Senior Brother He Su Ye was very generous,” he said. ”These are made of refined true gold.”

Yang looked at the needle in his palm with renewed interest. ”What is true gold?”

”A very rare metal used exclusively by high level artifact crafters.” Senior Brother Yuan Shen said, nodding towards the needle. ”Take good care of it. Needles of this quality are good enough that they may serve you through your entire cultivation journey without needing to be replaced. Most cultivators have to upgrade their tools as they advance. These will not require it.”

Yang held the two needles in his open palm and thought about that. He had not fully appreciated this gift at the time but he made a note to thank Senior Brother He Su Ye properly when they returned.

He focused his spiritual sense and attempted to establish a connection with both simultaneously.

The first needle responded instantly, lifting off his palm. The second, however, resisted, requiring twice the mental exertion. Managing both streams of spiritual intent felt like trying to draw a circle with one hand and a square with the other. Slowly, both needles floated into the air, but their trajectories were wildly erratic, one glided smoothly while the other wobbled and dipped the instant his focus shifted to the other.

Senior Brothers Yuan Shen and Zhen Hao watched and offered corrections in turns, pointing out when he was overcompensating on one side, when his connection was thinning and about to break and when the problem was focus versus technique. The instructions were very specific, and Yang found himself gradually improving.

Yang had no sense of how much time passed. He was still working with both needles, the control improving incrementally with each attempt, when movement at the edge of his vision drew his attention and he looked up to find Senior Brothers Fan Xiao, Qing An, and Song Weilong returning.

With a flick of his wrist, Yang recalled the golden needles back into his storage ring.

”Did you find anything?” he asked.

Senior Brother Qing An nodded. ”A few more murals. None as well preserved as the one you found, but clear enough.”

”Did they show the same ritual?” Senior Brother Zhen Hao asked.

”Most of them showed variations of it,” Senior Brother Fan Xiao said. His expression was not pleased. ”The sacrifice depicted was different in each mural, which tells us this was practiced with regularity rather than being a single historic event.”

The mood across the group turned into something grimmer.

”There are indications that the sacrifice is connected to activating the temple’s underlying mechanics,” Senior Brother Song Weilong said. ”That it opens or activates something. But the murals are not precise enough to tell us exactly how or what.”

”Exactly?” Senior Brother Yuan Shen repeated, with a raised eyebrow at the word choice.

Senior Brother Qing An’s lips stretched into a dry, knowing smile. ”We have some ideas.”

”Which we will be testing immediately,” Senior Brother Fan Xiao said, cutting off any further talk. He summoned his sword. ”Back to the temple.”

Senior Brothers Yuan Shen and Zhen Hao stayed on Yang’s carpet rather than summoning their own swords, Senior Brother Yuan Shen gesturing for Yang to ferry them back up while Senior Brothers Qing An and Song Weilong flew alongside. They landed on the temple platform and stepped off on the carved sandstone. Senior Brother Fan Xiao was already there, standing in the centre of the altar looking down at the carved ground in deep thought.

”If you are considering who to sacrifice,” Senior Brother Yuan Shen said casually, ”I nominate Zhen Hao.”

Senior Brother Zhen Hao gave him a wounded expression before he turned to Senior Brother Qing An. ”No, but in all seriousness. What is the actual plan?”

”Not a sacrifice,” Senior Brother Qing An said. ”We are hoping blood will be sufficient to activate it. The altar’s channels are carved to carry liquid toward specific points. Whatever the original ritual involved, blood was central to it. The question is whether the altar cares about the source.”

”Whose blood?” Yang blurted out immediately, it was not that he was worried about himself. He knew about the personalities of his Senior Brothers enough to know that if it came to using blood he would be placed last in line but he didn’t worry for his Senior Brothers any less, and the thought of any of them spilling their own blood for an unholy, ancient altar filled him with deep unease.

He looked between them. ”A civilization that revolved around human sacrifice does not sound like a place we should be experimenting with lightly.”

”Rest assured, Junior Brother, it will not be a single drop of our blood,” Senior Brother Fan Xiao said calmly.

He reached into his storage ring and produced a glossy black case from it, He took out several vials.

Senior Brother Yuan Shen appeared at Yang’s side. ”Did I not say, just a few hours ago,” he said, in a conversational tone, ”that there is nothing wrong with making use of what an evil cultivator leaves behind?”

Yang stared at the vials, realization dawning on him.

”Back away from the carvings,” Senior Brother Fan Xiao said. The group moved until they were all standing on plain sandstone well clear of the carved channels.

Uncorking the first crystal vial, Senior Brother Fan Xiao inverted it over the center of the carved floor.

Yang watched in horrified fascination as a bright, oxygenated crimson blood poured forth, far more liquid than the small vial could logically hold and began to flow steadily through the ancient stone grooves carved into the floor.

Join my Patreon to read 10 advance chapters.