One-Eyed Monster

Kuyi Tulan and the Great Mentor had been conversing for some time. The duration wasn’t excessively long, nor was it brief, but it was enough to give rise to much speculation among the others. Essentially, while the two of them spoke, everyone else was lost in thought. After all, those harmed by Kuyi Tulan held no hope for him, while his followers harbored no doubts. Neither side could convince the other, resulting in a stalemate as they watched to see if the Great Mentor or Kuyi Tulan would be the first to sway the other.

Among the group, one person was particularly furious but had been suppressing his emotions. He curbed his anger to give Great Mentor Guzan space; after all, Kuyi Tulan was the Great Mentor’s disciple, and he couldn’t rashly attack him. Furthermore, he himself had expended too much energy and wasn’t in a position to act recklessly.

This person was Stan Sol. To him, Kuyi Tulan’s Alchemy Workshop had taken Dastan, a warrior from their family.

He desperately wanted to know Dastan’s condition but hadn’t voiced his question out of respect for the Great Mentor. He felt an opportunity to ask would eventually arise, and he couldn’t simply brush this matter aside. Dastan was a comrade from his family; he couldn’t ignore the plight of one of his own.

Stan Sol had no interest in the dispute between the Great Mentor and Kuyi Tulan. He, too, hungered for power, but his family—the Sol Family—would not seek powers foreign to them. This was the greatest difference between the Sol Family and the Gaoju Family; the men of his family wouldn’t easily accept such strange powers.

Still, Stan Sol listened attentively. He had his own views on these matters.

Everyone craved power, but not all powers should be coveted. There were some powers on this continent best left undisturbed—for instance, the power of the Water Spirit. Such mysterious beings typically existed beyond human perception, and coveting their power was often not worth the cost. Stan Sol had witnessed many families pursue shortcuts into the Water Spirits’ domain, only to face extinction. The Water Spirits could lay curses; those who invaded their territory would invariably face retaliation, often twofold.

From Kuyi Tulan’s words, Stan Sol deduced that Kuyi Tulan feared no power. While not blindly accepting all unknown powers, he was still taking a dangerous path. Dealing with unknown powers was like playing with fire: success brought joy to all, but failure meant disaster for everyone involved.

However, Stan Sol understood Kuyi Tulan’s mindset; those who feared loss often acted this way—reckless and fearless. That was how people terrified of losing something behaved when they encountered a chance to change their own power. Stan Sol himself had experienced something similar; his own ability to express himself had been lost in his pursuit of power... so he could understand Kuyi Tulan’s state of mind.

But he could not forgive what this man had done to Dastan. No matter how tragic or pitiful Kuyi Tulan appeared, Stan Sol could not forgive the harm inflicted upon Dastan. The loss of freedom, the near loss of sanity—such damage was irreparable, no matter how many apologies were offered.

Stan Sol looked at Kuyi Tulan. The instigator of all these troubles, the creator of the Guru Mountain Monsters. Kuyi Tulan seemed to have many identities, but Stan Sol focused only on the part that fueled his enmity. For him, the time for reckoning had arrived.

Stan Sol sensed it was almost over; the Great Mentor and Kuyi Tulan couldn’t continue their discussion much longer. Even if Kuyi Tulan wanted to keep talking nonsense, the others surely wouldn’t allow it to drag on.

Unfortunately, Stan Sol was too naive. He hadn’t anticipated the profound bond between the Great Mentor and Kuyi Tulan. Nor had he foreseen the deep reverence the other monsters held for the Great Mentor.

Everyone had their own reasons for respecting the Great Mentor, so they would unconditionally support whatever he chose to do.

Everyone has the right to choose; that statement is undeniably true. Yet, not everyone acts according to their own will. Sometimes, people voluntarily relinquish their right to choose... Just like now: though open communication was possible, they chose not to heed their inner feelings, completely abandoning their own desires, all while appearing perfectly at ease.

But Stan Sol was different; he wouldn’t remain silent indefinitely. He had to find out what happened to Dastan. He just needed the right moment to ask, otherwise his question might be swept away unnoticed, failing to command attention.

Presently, the Great Mentor and Kuyi Tulan were still mired in the issue of choice.

”The choice you speak of is your own, isn’t it?” the Great Mentor retorted to Kuyi Tulan. This disciple of his had been a considerable headache for a long time. So headstrong, refusing all counsel—if he continued down this path, he was surely headed for ruin. Kuyi Tulan was a rare genius whose achievements in Alchemy could have been immense, yet he had deliberately chosen a crooked road, one where the destination was obscured.

”In times of crisis, everyone must be prepared to contribute to the Empire, anytime, anywhere. Mentor, wouldn’t you agree?” Kuyi Tulan’s perspective was always grand, invariably connecting matters to the wider world.

The Great Mentor replied, ”You’re not wrong. These are indeed not peaceful times; war could erupt at any moment. The Empire’s territory needs to be defended; we cannot allow it to be encroached upon again.”

Kuyi Tulan continued, ”What I, your student, am doing is precisely to defend the Empire’s territory. I hope to achieve the greatest defensive capability at the lowest cost. The Purification Plan was devised for this very purpose.”

”I have reviewed your Purification Plan, child,” the Great Mentor said. ”In my farewell letter, I made it very clear: what you are creating for the Empire is not an army—it’s a machine!”

Perhaps this was the crux of the disagreement between the Great Mentor and Kuyi Tulan. The Great Mentor felt that Kuyi Tulan was gradually losing his humanity, caring only for what he himself wished to obtain, with no regard for anyone else.

Kuyi Tulan, however, had his own perspective. Facing the Great Mentor’s critique, he argued eloquently, ”I am doing this merely to reduce the cost. If the Purification Plan succeeds, we will possess an elite, fearless Guardian Army. At that point, we will be invincible, no longer fearing invasions from other empires.”

”An invincible army devoid of emotion—is that not a machine?” the Great Mentor countered.

”Mentor,” Kuyi Tulan pressed, ”if everyone thought as you do, we would forever remain weak. On the battlefield, can we truly afford sentiment?”