[Book II Chapter 6] DYLAN: The Little Mistress

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As Dylan climbed, the air grew hazy. This was no ordinary fog. Its wisps wrapped the mountain, befuddling minds and sending trespassers back out in a daze. Even immortals would get lost. It’s impenetrable to those not recognized. Soon Dylan could no longer see the hand in front of his face and continued from memory alone.

He found the little mistress on the peak, sitting in a sea of clouds. Above the air was as free and clear as after a rainy day. There was never any wind when Lin Xiao cultivated.

Black hair flowing over her white robes, she looked angelic. Her eyes opened at his approach.

“Liu Mufei is no more.” Dylan reported.

Lin smiled, “That’s great. I’m glad you’re back safely!”

While sympathetic to his quest for revenge, Lin had been too young to remember that day. As a result, she was more relieved than joyous at his success. Dylan understood, yet it pained him, only strengthening his drive.

“As an apology for worrying you, I brought this.” Dylan said with smile. Lin’s eyes widened.

“You found a lunar iris!” She exclaimed, ecstatically admiring the bloom in his hand. The exquisite flower could fortify the cultivation of all esoteric affinities, including her own. Lin was gifted with life, air, and soul. That last one was rare and deep. The mists she conjured were more than mere vapor.

By a twist of fate, his master Han Xiao had succeeded in passing along his affinities to his daughter. Considering the rare combination, this was a miracle, one nearly marred by tragedy.

No written record of Heavenly Mist, the Sacred Cloud’s martial art, had been kept. It should have been lost to the annals of history with the death of its last practitioner. However, unbeknown to his late master, all his secrets had been witnessed by Dowart Fain. Since the sect had acquired the Ouroboros ring seventeen centuries ago, he’d watched them pass down and refine their teachings.

Those first few months after his escape, Dylan’s first task had been to transcribe this knowledge into a weighty tome. Not only the basic instructions, it contained anecdotes of various hurdles practitioners had faced and how they’d overcome them. In the worst case, she’ll have what she needs to continue.

Lin looked up, “Next time, may I come with you? I’m tired of this mountain top.”

Exhaling deeply, Dylan nodded, “The Godly Herb Garden opens in two weeks. You can accompany me then.” He watched her clap with glee at the news.

Lin Xiao was making excellent progress in her cultivation, more so than her predecessors. This was cause for celebration, but also apprehension. Her affinities and skills were too unique. If someone recognized them, they might examine Lin and see her father in her. Enemies of the Sacred Cloud Sect would learn of her existence.

Dylan had avoided this by keeping her hidden away, but this couldn’t last. Not only was this unfair to Lin, but it was an obstacle to his long term goal of restoring the Sacred Cloud Sect. I must become an immortal as soon as possible.

“I’m heading back to refine this.” Dylan put the lunar iris away. “I’ll be back to pick you up tonight.”

While strong for her age, Lin was still eleven. Dylan insisted she be accompanied back and forth to the peak.

“Before you leave, I have a question.” Lin proceeded to detailed her latest novel idea and peered up expectantly.

“let me think.” Dylan answered, words spoken so many times he’d lost count.

> Dowart began. > Dylan listen and carefully repeated the insight. He felt like a fraud every time, but Dowart opposed revealing the truth.

Dylan departed after satisfying Lin’s curiosity. As he slipped through the mist, he heard Dowart muse pensively, >

Dylan smirked. He’s really taken to his role as mentor. It’d been a shock when the old saint had first materialized all those years ago, but he soon found comfort in the presence of someone familiar with all he’d lost. He’d let Dowart Fain guided him to the Morning Dew Sect and had never regretted his decision.

The Ouroboros ring originally belonged to Dowart Fain, one the many treasured he’d accumulate through his career as an alchemist. His mastery had been famous across Sanwue, his profits fueling his cultivation. A necessity due to the difficult circumstances he’d faced.

Dowart was born with a connection with earth, air, fire, and water. In cases of split affinities, most chose their top two or three for which there existed a suitable martial art. Feeling this mean abandoning his potential, Dowart rejected this path. He was captivated by the notion of wielding the four primal elements, convinced any martial art which succeeded in fusing them would stand above all others.

In general, the more affinities mixed, the harder to achieve balance. That Dowart mostly succeeded is proof of his genius. Even in its current state, Four Element Transcendence permits me to keep up with the inner disciples of the major sects. Once complete, it will legendary.

Dowart’s downfall came in the depths of the limestone grottos. While searching for ingredients, he found a passage to a hallowed pool, a miraculous natural phenomenon which would enhance anything bathed in it. Sadly, he wasn’t alone. Another saint had already begun cultivating.

Without words, a clash to the death began. Both knew the value of this discovery. Whoever won would achieve immortality here. Although Dowart landed the deciding blow, it was a fight without victors.

Lying half submerged and dying, Dowart was unwilling to pass on. The goal he’d pursued his entire life remained incomplete, a reality he reject to his core. In desperation, he drew on his mastery of alchemy to fuse his consciousness to the divine treasure on his finger.

It shouldn’t have worked. At the time, the ouroborous ring wasn’t something with the capacity to house a soul, and Dowart should’ve been dragged into the abyss. However, the hallowed pool weakened death’s pull such that his stubborn grip was impossible to dislodge. Over the next thousand years, the Ouroboros ring absorbed the essence of that otherworldly water, slowly becoming a supreme divine treasure while enveloping the saint’s spirit.

When the first master of the Sacred Cloud Sect had sensed the hallowed pool’s dried remains, he’d discovered Dowart Fain’s notes inside the Ouroboros ring. Ever since then, they’d begun teaching Four Element Transcendence to those with the affinities to learn.

Eventually awaking, Dowart kept himself hidden, fearing what the Sacred Cloud Sect might do upon discovering his presence. Instead, he’d waited for one with the talent and affinities to realize his desire.

Dylan sighed. He intended to honor Dowart’s wishes and complete Four Element Transcendence, even if that mean losing a dear friend. I can’t keep him here out of selfishness.

Dylan approached the lake in a nearby lush valley. A large island stood in its center, with roofs visible through the vegetation. Water elementals rose to greet him, pillars of water in the dragon form. After an inspection, they went dormant again, leaving the surface rippleless.

Leaping across, Dylan made his way to his quarters but was intercepted by the man in his early thirties wearing an elaborate version of the sect’s flowing blue uniform. Kailen Shenmu, acting head of the Morning Dew Sect.

“The matriarch wishes to speak with you.” Kailen said.

“I’ll see her right away.” Dylan answered, nodding with respect.

As he walked away, Kailen called after him, “There’s blood on your robes.”

He grimaced without looking back. Officially, the purpose of his frequent trips was to collect ingredients, although some guessed there was more to it. This would not help.

He crossed a bamboo forest and reached a pond. Seated cross-legged on the water was a white-haired woman. While she must have a been a beauty once, her features sagged with age.

“How was your hunt?” She asked, glancing up.

“Seven left.” Dylan answered, bowing.

This saint was the reason Dowart had chosen this location. Mei Shenmu had been a close friend to a past leader of the Sacred Cloud Sect. She’d taken them in without hesitation and was the only one who knew the true purpose behind his expeditions.

Mei nodded then turned serious. “A Dark Age has begun.”

Dylan had heard this on the way back but didn’t know what to make of it. On one hand, he feared the dangers it might bring those close to him. On the other, the chaos would undoubtedly provide opportunities to strike his closely guarded targets. As for what it meant for the wider world… As long as the Morning Dew Sect and the little mistress survive, I don’t care.

“The last one obliterated a fourth of Sanwue. It was simply good fortune that spared us.” Mei continued. “As such, I would be grateful if you spend more time at the sect.”

“I’ll do my best.” While Dylan understood Mei’s concern, he didn’t like putting his revenge on hold.

Mei observed him carefully, “Kailen is just barely a saint, and, as you know, I am approaching destined death. You are our most dependable fighter.”

“I understand.” Dylan said.

For each individual, there existed an expiration date, a fated moment where the body would naturally fail. While skilled healers could eliminate illness and rejuvenate the body, they could not change this reality. Nothing short of high sorcery could. Ultimately, the only hope was to reach immortally in time. Mei had failed to do so, and had weeks left. She was extending this through constant cultivation, but she wouldn’t last long once drawn into battle.

After assurances he would keep the sect’s safety in mind, Dylan retreat to his quarters to spend the rest of the day refining his recent harvest.