121 A Familiar Face

It was a cloudy day in Quicksilver. The sun was completely obscured by the thick cloud cover, causing the city's appearance to change drastically. The colors, which were usually accentuated by the persistent sunshine, were now drab and faded. Metallic decorations lost their luster, and the public fountains no longer glittered with iridescent tones.

Cha Ming normally wouldn't have noticed this, if not for his destination. The Obsidian Syndicate's building was black as sin—no, that wasn't accurate. Cha Ming knew now that sin was yellow, and evil was ochre. However, he couldn't help but shiver when he saw the obsidian building and its black spires. In the sunlight, it would have been glasslike in appearance. But beneath the cloud-covered sky, it was blacker than the deepest shadows. An oppressive feeling of unease washed over him as he walked to the doors.

"May I help you?" a beautiful attendant in a black dress asked in a suggestive manner. Her tone implied that she would help him in any way he wished. Not wanting to get caught up in anything unnecessary, he presented his invitation. The woman looked it over while huffing in disappointment.

"Right this way, Master Du," she said, walking through the ebony doors. Her hips swayed as they entered an entrance hall as massive as the exterior suggested. A mosaic of black and white granite covered the walls. The white was there to accentuate the black—after all, the existence of light is what made the darkness so frightening.

They passed a dozen black-marble desks, each accompanied by an equally beautiful attendant. Each desk had a different symbol adorning it. One had an alchemical cauldron and another a talisman. One had a formation and another a hammer. These were clearly for requesting services from professions. There were many other symbols like pills, herbs, and ores. One was in the shape of a sword, likely for hiring mercenaries. The last one had a question mark.

Is it for miscellaneous services or for more questionable services? Cha Ming felt an itch, so he rubbed his eyes. Is there such a thing as allergies for cultivators?

They left the entrance hall through a pair of ebony doors. There, Cha Ming saw what looked like many storefronts. Various attendants waited on customers and fetched goods as requested. Others operated more like workshops, proudly displaying men forging weapons, painting talismans, or preparing pills. Of course, these things took place behind thick panes of protective glass. Any disruptions could ruin a creation. They sought to strike a balance between displaying skill and exercising practicality. His vision blurred as he looked on, which was curious given he had entered the bone-forging realm.

"Is everything all right?" the guide asked.

"It's nothing," Cha Ming said. "I finished my examination yesterday, and I'm likely just tired." He couldn't focus. It was as though he'd spent weeks awake and couldn't make out finer details.

"Very well," the guide said. "Each craftsman is provided with a storefront and assistants. They may also hire others to assist them, but naturally our businesses thrive on premium services. We have very few customers, but they are all very rich. Only those with sufficient means are allowed inside."

Cha Ming noticed that she didn't say status. As far as they were concerned, money equaled status.

"Right this way," she said once more, curling her finger for him to follow.

The thick feeling of unease from outside the building returned. As he passed a smith who was beating away recklessly at a sword, his eyes itched more than ever. It was as though they were closed and wanted to open. So open them he did. His Eyes of Pure Jade activated on reflex, revealing a much different scenery than he was used to. The blacksmith he had been looking at shone deep yellow, even deeper than other cultivators he had seen before. The woman who accompanied him, however, was not tainted with any specific hue.

Perhaps this is an outlier? Cha Ming thought. He had wandered the city quite extensively over the past two months, and this was the first time he had felt such an intense reaction from his Eyes of Pure Jade. His eyes darted back to the other shops, verifying their employees. Everyone was normal, save for a few customers with light yellow coloring.

"Is everything all right?" the guide asked once more.

Seeing Cha Ming nod, they proceeded to the next room. It was filled with various small courtyards. Cha Ming's incandescent force could not penetrate their doors. "This is our information center. You can purchase almost any kind of information there."

"What if I wanted information on one of your customers?" Cha Ming asked.

She looked at him quizzically. "That depends on a few factors. We will never report on matters of senior members, but junior members are fair game. For regular customers, it depends if they've purchased anonymity. Contracts are very important to us, so we will respect purchased anonymity. But you must understand that information is worth quite a bit of money. Purchasing anonymity comes at a cost that often exceeds the revenue we can generate from the information. Surely you understand this principle."

Cha Ming only vaguely listened. He spent his time looking for unusual signs. He found none, but the ominous feeling was still increasing.

"Here is Sigil Master Guo Jia's office," she continued. "He is in high demand; therefore, he is often out of office."

Cha Ming's attention snapped back to reality.

"What did you say the sigil master's name was?" he asked, trying his utmost to mask his facial expression.

"Guo Jia," she said. "Are you already acquaintances?"

"No," Cha Ming said, shaking his head. "I misheard." He rubbed a spot on his forehead that still stung from his enslavement. "Please continue."

They proceeded through the residential quarter where many members stayed. The décor was top notch, a few tiers higher than Cha Ming's accommodations at the Talisman Artist Guild. The guide continued to explain the several benefits he would receive should he choose to join the Obsidian Syndicate. Cha Ming had to ask her to repeat herself more than once, as he was distracted by the eerie yellow-and-ochre glow peeking out from many of the residence doors. He decided that this was likely the cause of his agitation. This place had at least a dozen devils and devil cultivators.

"Is there anything else I should see?" Cha Ming asked.

"Of course," she replied. "If you ever need hired muscle, you can always come to the Mercenary Pavilion for top-tier fighters." She led him to a stone building with a sign at the entrance. The sign only had a single sword drawn in bloody ink. It gave Cha Ming the willies.

"After you, sir," she said, holding the door open.

Cha Ming walked in cautiously. He heard raucous laughter and breaking glass. He smelled iron and blood. He saw a sea of orange, at least fifty foundation-establishment devils biding their time. He finally realized the Obsidian Syndicate's true colors, and the reason why his eyes itched so badly. His eyes had tried to warn him, but he hadn't listened.

The Obsidian Syndicate was a den of devils, and he had walked right into it.

***

"You seem uncomfortable," a grave voice said. Cha Ming looked up at the somber silhouette in black cultivator's robes.

"Not at all, Senior Partner Yang," Cha Ming said.

"You're lying," the man stated with a deadpan expression. "I hate it when people lie to me."

Cha Ming gulped. His incandescent force was useless in evaluating the man before him. Which made sense given that he was a transcendent cultivator. "I admit that I am uncomfortable. Not only have I never seen a transcendent cultivator before, but it's my first time seeing so many foundation-establishment and core-formation cultivators in one location. I confess myself impressed at the Obsidian Syndicate's foundation."

The answer seemed to satisfy the man, who leaned forward and spoke in a gentler voice. "It's natural that you feel this way. After all, you are young and inexperienced. But you are a talented man, and we greatly value talent. I promise you that if you join us, you will have substantial freedom, and your monthly stipend will be exorbitant. This has nothing to do with your current accomplishments but my estimate of your future achievements.

"Cultivation techniques, battle techniques, talisman formulas… these can all be yours at the snap of my finger. You will grow stronger at an unimaginable pace. And as a member, you will enjoy access to many of our restricted goods and services."

While it did sound tempting, Cha Ming was nervous for several other reasons. His greatest worry was the man before him. He knew that his true shape was much different than what the naked eye could see. Behind the mask of skin and bones was a monster through and through, an ochre giant with deadly horns that could crush him at any moment.

"I need some time to consider," Cha Ming said. "I imagine that these benefits come with obligations?

"Naturally," the man said. "Nothing in this world is free of charge."

"May I have a copy of the contract to review?" Cha Ming asked. "This is a very important decision."

The man chuckled. "Of course you can. But be warned that the document is cursed. It is linked to your presence, and should other eyes see it, we will know. If you choose to accept, sign it in blood. If you choose to reject it, burn it and we will be informed accordingly. However, if you should wish to lose your life… then by all means, let others see it. Do you understand?"

Cha Ming paled. "I understand."

"Great," the man said. "I like straightforward people. You have great talent. Make sure to take advantage of this important growth period, when your ambition is at its fullest. Don't be foolish and squander it like many idealists out there."

Cha Ming stored the contract inside a normal bag of holding. He didn't dare show off the Clear Sky World in front of a transcendent cultivator. Then he hid his agitation and proceeded outside the building under the supervision of his eye-catching guide. It was only once he left through those ebony doors that he dared breathe normally.

Using his incandescent force, he hid away from the throng of people on the streets and disappeared. A half hour later, he reappeared inside his residence at the Talisman Artist Guild. Then, locking himself away, he withdrew the black package containing the employment contract. He burned it without looking. There was no sense in dealing with devils. He would rather die a thousand deaths than chance corrupting his soul.

***

A week passed, and Cha Ming entered a period of seclusion. He took full advantage of Jun Xiezi's painting, Samsara, to practice the talismans he had already learned. By the end of the week, his success rate in painting these talismans exceeded fifty percent. He knew that it would be impossible to improve them without substantially improving his crafting skills, so he decided to diversify his attention to other least-grade talismans. It didn't take long for him to master a wind talisman, Void Rend Talisman, and a lightning talisman, Nine Heavens Lightning Talisman.

Eventually, Cha Ming's emotional stability recovered, and he created another batch of poetic talismans. These were his trump cards, key items that would preserve his life in times of danger.

Talisman crafting aside, Cha Ming continued his usual efforts at cultivation. He advanced slowly but surely, gaining steady ground at a rate that would make many envious. Still, he knew it wasn't enough. A storm was brewing in the Song Kingdom, and it was only a matter of time until it erupted.

***

A storm raged in the Silverwing Mountain Range. The thunder woke Huxian from a deep and pleasant dream. In this dream, he was a master talisman artist. Many people respected him, and he developed his craft at a frightening pace. In fact, his works had gained the attention of the branch guild leader, a powerful figure who could kill mostly anyone in the city without fear of repercussions.

Why do I keep dreaming I'm human? he thought. Isn't it best to be a demon beast? Besides, when I transcend, I'll be able to take on human form. There will be no disadvantages and only advantages to being a demon beast then.

"Master, you've awakened," Lei Jiang said dutifully. His surroundings were filled with static that caused Huxian's fur to stand on end. Which he was fine with him. Spiked hair was in fashion nowadays.

"Have you seen Silverwing?" Huxian asked the purple mouse. As usual, the tiny mouse shook its tiny head. "He'll come and see us when he's ready. There's no rushing someone when they're upset."

Who's upset? a voice yelled out to them mentally. The proud Silverwing was flying overhead, clearly showing off his glittering wings under the sunlight.

"You look different today," Huxian said.

The falcon swooped down toward the ground in an exaggerated fashion, stopping mere inches from the rocky peak of the mountain. As Huxian looked him over, he felt a faint presence that hadn't been there before. He also noticed Silverwing's silver feathers had doubled in number.

"You've made a breakthrough in the blood-concentrating technique?" Huxian said with a bewildered expression.

"That's right," Silverwing said. "This elder brother is a talent among talents. Naturally, a silly blood-concentration technique is nothing for me. It's only a matter of time until I break through the second, third, and fourth stages."

"You have no idea how talented you are," Huxian said. By all rights, it should have been impossible. He'd specifically chosen the least effective technique to gift the bird in the hopes of having it surrender to his will. But Silverwing had defied all expectations and succeeded where tens of thousands had failed. "Will you be breaking through to core formation soon, then?"

The bird shook his head. "I'm in no rush. Besides, I can vaguely feel that concentrating my bloodline before forming my core will give me many advantages later on. Also, I want to find out what these tasty inherited memories are."

"That's easier said than done," Huxian said, shaking his head. "You'll need to concentrate your blood to the fifth stage of your current technique to stand a chance. However, if you had a stronger technique…"

Huxian's voice trailed off when he saw the bird's angry glare. This was unfortunate, because he had been about to offer a stronger one with no strings attached. He'd lost far too much face, it seemed. How would his friend react if he knew that he'd been tricked the entire time? "…but it shouldn't be necessary. With your natural talent, it's not impossible. You need to make sure that you concentrate your bloodline to the point where you gain inherited memories before forming your core. Otherwise you'll never gain them in your entire life."

The bird snorted. "This bird naturally knows what's best. Just watch and learn. Either way, that's not the reason I came here. How could I possibly be so bored as to come show off to you guys?"

"Did something happen?" Huxian asked.

"The humans have come," the bird whispered.

Huxian's expression became somber. "How many, and how strong?

"A hundred in each of two groups, all foundation-establishment cultivators," Silverwing replied. "Some are the lowest of the low, while others are peak-foundation-establishment cultivators. There is also an existence at core formation. I'm too weak to evaluate him."

Huxian clicked his tongue. "How troublesome. Between our two peaks, we only have two hundred or so demon beasts. However, the humans are crafty. They have weapons, formations, talismans, and medicinal pills. We only have our claws and our bloodlines to rely on." He looked at Silverwing. "Would any of the sovereigns help us?"

"Unlikely," the falcon said. "Perhaps I can convince one or two if worse comes to worst. Fortunately, we have the advantage in terrain, especially with your mountain's geomantic boa."

"What about the monarch?" Huxian asked. The mystical owl was the mountain range's true hidden reserve. Sadly, he was unlikely to act just to save one mountain and some immortal jade.

"You know as well as I that he loves honor and face entirely too much," Silverwing said. "Unless a core-formation cultivator participates, he'll just shut himself away and watch us die."

"A pity," Huxian said. "What did their leaders look like?"

The falcon sniffed. "They are both disgusting characters. They make me shiver. One of them has black hair and red pupils. He looked at me once, and it burned me. The other one is a young man dressed in green who loves drinking tea. His hair is gold like the sun, with a few stripes of white. But even with my keen eyesight I had trouble seeing him. He's constantly surrounded in shadows."

Hearing this familiar description, Huxian's foxy muzzle opened into a grin. "Blond hair with white stripes, you say? What a coincidence, a friend of a friend of mine looks exactly like that."