Dao of the World Walker (Xianxia) Book 2

He looked around desperately, now back to his full senses, terrified that he may have drowned Som and Saral, intoxicated by the power.

Only to freeze as his gaze shifted to the bank.

He saw a bunch of people kneeling down on the water’s edge. All staring at him as if they had just witnessed the second coming of Jesus himself.

He let out a relieved, ragged breath as his eyes found both Saral and Som, safe and sound but unfortunately also kneeling on the riverbank.

Judging by everyone’s expression it doesn’t look like they think him some kind of monster but being deified wasn’t ideal either even if it beat them chasing after him for draining their beloved little river dry, which he had not done; he confirmed as he glanced back and found that the river was flowing exactly as it had been before the bead got its grubby little paws on it. 

He stood and walked towards Saral, wondering what explanation he would give for this to disabuse whatever wild notion these people seemed to have formed about him. 

Drawing closer, he noticed Saral and some of the people getting back to their feet, Saral letting go of her hold on Som as she took a few tentative steps into the river herself to meet him halfway. “Nahar.” She whispered, looking him all over.

“Nahar.” Her breath hitched, and her gaze grew frantic as she grabbed him by his shoulders and stared at him, though her gaze seemed to be looking through him instead of at him. “You’ve been chosen. Sivlar has chosen you.”

“Saral. Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you or Som, right?” Yang asked and turned to look at the girl, when Saral kept repeating herself. Som, still wide-eyed, quickly scrambled to her feet and nodded. “I am okay! Saral dragged me out when Sivlar came to embrace you.”

“Embrace me?” Yang smiled grimly but didn’t deny it. 

Dealing with religious zealots is no joke; they could rationalize any and everything. Shaking his head, he decided to roll with it. At least this spared him from constantly having to fabricate excuses for his apparent quirks. 

But these people’s tendency to credit every anomaly to Sivlar’s will remained a cause for worry and potential problems. 

They wanted miracles and prophets for now, but if one day the sentiment turned, nothing would stop these people from seeing these same events with a sinister lens and declaring it evil or wrong. 

One can make plans and calculations for people led by emotions, logic, or greed, but blind faith was a completely different beast.

Saral finally seemed to have regained some of her marbles as she finally stopped repeating the same drivel, going quiet as she looked Yang over in reverence. “I’ve never seen Sivlar act so. Sivlar must have chosen you for a grand purpose.”

“He will lead us to greatness.” Someone’s voice came from behind. Yang saw a young man looking at him with devotion. 

“Nahar has been purified! That’s why Sivlar wiped his memories.”

“He must devote himself to Sivlar.”

“Do you think the Sivlar wish to have him?”

Yang almost shuddered at the last one. He needed to get this under control lest these people somehow begin believing he needed to be returned to Sivlar’s embrace permanently. 

“I felt the Sivlar as it blessed me.” Yang spoke with a grave adult cadence. He looked up into Saral’s eyes, making sure he looked like a glassy-eyed, single-brain-celled fanatic. “I need to devote myself fully to Sivlar and master water wielding, so I may serve its will.”

“Yes. You must obey Sivlar.” Saral nodded fervently before finally letting go of Yang’s shoulders and turning back to look at the people gathered around. 

“Sivlar has blessed us. Nahar has been chosen by Sivlar itself.”

And with that she took a few steps away from Yang and fell into a kneeling position, bringing herself to prostrate. Yang watched horrified as Som and the others followed Saral’s example, pressing their foreheads to the dirt.

Yang just looked down at everyone as he weighed his options, realizing that the situation was rapidly spiraling out of control.

“Rise. You must not bow before anyone but Sivlar. I may be the chosen one, yet I remain a servant of Sivlar just like everyone else.” Yang declared, making sure to come across as authoritative despite his voice sounding like the prepubescent little boy he was. He actually was impressed by his performance. If this cultivation thing didn’t work out, I could always take a shot at becoming a cult leader.

To his relief, they all stopped at his words and stood up, and Yang couldn’t help but appreciate that no matter the world, one can always rely on religious fanatics to follow orders blindly.

Saral again came close to him and spoke reverently, with none of the adults’ benevolence and condescension that was ever present between a kid and an adult. Now Saral spoke to him as an adult, one with authority over her, leaving Yang to feel a bit melancholy. “Nahar. How may I serve the Sivlar and its chosen one?”

Chosen one. He is now a chosen one. What’s next, a noseless man shooting lights at him with a stick. With his luck, he wouldn’t be surprised.

Whatever. He will take his blessings where he can. Not being treated like a small child and having a solid reason for his abilities would go a long way in helping Yang achieve his goals.

“Saral, I need to—” Yang looked around and went quiet looking at all the eager eyes and ears on him. Saral seemed to understand his dilemma. 

“All of you must go back to your work. The Chosen One must have space to fulfil Sivlar’s desires.”

Sister, can you not call me the Chosen One? That is just tempting fate to come murder me.

The crowd seemed to accept the need for privacy between their priestess and the illustriousChosen One and began dispersing back toward the village. 

“Som, you must also return. I will teach you tomorrow.” Saral spoke to Som, who seemed to think she was a part of all this. She looked disappointed at not being able to stay here to eavesdrop but obediently nodded and followed along the rest of the tribe members.

Once alone, Yang got to work. “I need to be able to spend more time with Sivlar where its waters are the strongest.” 

“Where the Sivlar is the strongest....” Saral repeated as she finally looked fully present now that she had something concrete to help with.

“It should be where the waterfall drops,” she said, looking towards where the crest of the waterfall could be seen.

“Then that is where I need to be to convene with the Sivlar,” Yang said, determined as he followed her gaze.

“Let me take you there.” Saral offered, and Yang accepted easily enough. He was eight and with no cultivation; having Saral to deal with any danger on the path was a good idea, at least on his first trip. Once he knew the easiest and safest way around, he should be able to go alone.

Saral led him deeper into the woods along the inclined path towards the roaring waterfall.

Yang looked around as they came across various small critters and vegetation that he hadn’t previously seen in any other worlds he had been to before.

Due to the proximity of the river, the whole area was filled with lush greenery, and soon enough they even left the cleared trail. Yang felt a slight ache in his legs as the path steepened further. He followed the determined Saral as she led him through dense foliage and heavily drooping trees. 

The thundering sound of the cascading water grew steadily as they got closer and closer, until it was practically the only thing he could hear. 

Saral stopped, and he came to stand next to her, seeing the wide and deep basin where the water seemed to be crashing down from the cliffs, hundreds of feet above.

Gazing at the roaring spray, Yang smiled.

This looks promising.

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