68 A cloud of resentmen

Zhao Fanyu's mind was such a muddled mess, he didn't know left from right, up from down, and his whole body was as heavy as lead.

"Is this really necessary?" Voices were like sounds that floated in the air without any true meaning.

"Are you that eager to live out a fate crueler than death? Have you forgotten what he's capable of?"

"..."

"Hurry up. You can't expect me to be wiping your asshole each time now can you?"

There were footsteps and someone grabbed a told of his jaw. There wasn't much force, but he couldn't move even an inch against it. And though Zhao Fanyu's eyes were open, his vision was unseeing. But there was a sense of familiarity with the person in front of him...but he couldn't unravel more details than that.

A thick, bitter liquid was poured down his throat. He coughed but even that was too weak to expel the strange medicine from traveling into his body.

"Hold his mouth closed! Do you want him to spill it all out and mess up the dosage?"

There was grumbling and the rustling of cloth, a hand was pressed to his mouth and nose. Zhao Fanyu couldn't breathe and dumbly, he swallowed all the liquid. It sloshed down his throat and nausea overtook him almost immediately. The last strings of his consciousness faltered.

Before his mind tumbled back into darkness he was left with a single, acute thought; just how was he so foolish to let his guard down a second time and allow himself to be betrayed so easily? Again!

…

They didn't wake up early the next morning and Liu Sumeng couldn't tell if he was irritated or calm. His back, still sore, no longer scratched and creaked painfully at every breath and he felt extremely well rested, if only a little sweaty.

He was alone in the cabin and heard the sound of chattering outside.

"I'll have you roasted for breakfast! Get back here useless chicken!" Yuan Xuelan's voice was shrill and boyish.

"What foul words you have on your lips! How dare you call this divine one a chicken!? Surely you are blind! I cannot be roasted, are you a fool as well? You cripple! Imbecile!"

When Liu Sumeng exited from the cabin he was met with a funny scene of Yuan Xuelan waving Silei around as though it were a flyswatter. Huo Tang spewing little puffs of fire at him in retaliation. He could only imagine what incited such a childish scene but Liu Sumeng took the moment to enjoy the show.

But when Yuan Xuelan noticed the Ivory Sword Saint standing there he instantly straightened up and cleared his throat, hiding his sword behind him, "Sumeng. You're up."

The Ivory Sword Saint watched, intrigued. He nodded in response.

Yuan Xuelan, pretending like nothing had happened, schooled his expression and sheathed his sword, "So where in Loupu are we headed?"

Liu Sumeng wasn't entirely sure but he had a vague idea, "Zhao Fanyu was captured in Loupu province. We need to find his trace."

Unlike Yuan Xuelan, Huo Tang was still frustrated at whatever earlier argument there were having and was trying to peck at her offender, "You! Don't ignore me, foolish boy!"

But Yuan Xuelan kept swatting her away and said, "Huh? Loupu Province isn't a small place you know? Don't you have an idea about where to start?"

"He was traveling from Haishang to Wangyun Peak. We can retrace that road."

The young cultivator crossed his arm in thought, "Hey, isn't Hidden Mist Manor on the way? Let's go there!"

Liu Sumeng pondered the idea. It didn't seem so bad. The cultivators there would probably have more of an idea of what was going on in their province than they did.

Upon hearing the Ivory Sword Saint's agreement, a playful twinkle lit up in Yuan Xuelan's eyes. He pointed out, "This is just like last time, isn't it?"

Liu Sumeng wasn't entire sure about that. Somethings felt different, like Yuan Xuelan's height and the timber of his voice. The summer heat as well. "Maybe."

"Hm." Yuan Xuelan said nothing and accompanied him down the winding roads. The air between them was so calm that Liu Sumeng almost forgot that they needed to hurry.

He unsheathed Mingshui and hopped on. "Hey wait up!" Yuan Xuelan laughed as he drew Silei after the Ivory Sword Saint. What was supposed to have been an urgent race to a dire situation turned into one that was unusually sweet and pleasant. Yuan Xuelan smirked and challenged him to a race, and who was the Ivory Sword Saint to deny him? He smiled that smile where his cheek was almost dimple but didn't.

Perhaps Liu Sumeng should have scolded himself but he didn't. After months-long of having his nerves twisted and patience worn down, a brief moment of freedom and lightheartedness felt like a long sigh of relief. And Yuan Xuelan glowed with laughter, Liu Sumeng saw that his world was glowing too. He could breathe again.

But the wonderful feeling dissipated back into dreary reality when they arrived at the closest village. A dark overcast overshadowed the mood. There wasn't war yet present in these parts but there was clearly something wrong.

The villagers wore gray expressions and dragged their feet across the street without spirit. There were so few people out as well. Yuan Xuelan and Liu Sumeng strolled along quiet in their observation, noting all the oddities that surrounded them.

A poor man that wore tattered clothes and had thinning hair clumped together with grease cried out as they passed him. His eyes widened, as if snapping out of a stupor, "Y-Young Masters!" He yelled and dove at their feet, prostrating before they could even react to his outrageous behavior. "Oh Young Masters…! Have you come to exorcise the ghosts? Please…please…"

The two cultivators shared a look. Yuan Xuelan frowned and crossed his arm, "Just what's going on here?"

"The ghosts…the ghosts." The old man groveled incoherently at their feet. The other villagers were slowly taking note of them as well, their eyes equally as haunted as the old man's.

It was then a cloud of resentful energy swept through like a dense cloud and the two cultivators immediately drew their swords. "What the heck!" Yuan Xuelan clicked his tongue, "Just what is going on here?"

The villagers perked up, having felt the energy that was so oppressive even without a golden core they could feel danger approaching. But the villagers did not flee in panic. Instead, they wore expressions of despair and resignation before ducking back into their homes. The old man only looked up, eyes listless without hope. "They're coming…"

And in the distance echos of groans approached. Each road, they appeared, decayed arms reaching forward, feet dragging along the ground. There were only one or two inching closer from each street but slowly, a huge crowd like a giant ocean of rancid corpses appeared, growling and grumbling as they shuffled forward.

"I'll take this side!" Yuan Xuelan was quick to action and rushed forth and Liu Sumeng was no worse, dashing to the opposite end and brandishing his blade.

The corpses, while numerous, were only low-leveled ghouls that were easily shredded through. And before long there lay nothing but heaps of gore that cluttered the streets. The villagers poked there heads out and saw the waste that scattered across the ground, lumps of flesh and putrid blackened blood. They had no joyous words of thanks to give the two cultivators.

It was as though the cloud of resentment had lingered so heavy and so long that the inhabitants, although living, had the life drained out of them. A girl, thin with twig-like arms looked up at Liu Sumeng with hollowed eyes, "Why didn't you come sooner?"

Liu Sumeng struggled to respond. The sea of carnage lay before him, so familiar to memories that haunted him. The reality that awaited each battlefield.

Luckily, Yuan Xuelan was there to ask, "How long has this been going on?"

The girl blinked, "A week?" A pause. "I don't know."

Yuan Xuelan frowned and then looked around but no one else was willing to speak to them, their spirits too down, emotions vacant.

Liu Sumeng looked around and wondered, "Why did no one help?"

The villagers had no answers.

Struck with pity, the Ivory Sword Saint began clearing out the corpses that attracted flies and crows and the putrid scent of rot.

Yuan Xuelan grabbed his wrist, "Hey. The villagers will be able to do this on their own, we should go."

But Liu Sumeng shook his head. His heart was sullen and unsteady. He remembered a life where he walked away from many scenes of similar to this one, where he stumbled away from bloodshed without looking back. A darkness had festered in his heart then, and now.. "If we can help, we should."

"...I thought we had somewhere to be? What about Zhao Fanyu?" Yuan Xuelan frowned with a raised brow, like he was trying hard to understand but couldn't.

"..." They did have somewhere to be. Priorities were a lot easier back when all he cared about was revenge and the emperor's glory. Liu Sumeng knew in his heart they should make haste, but still, "We'll do what we can."

Yuan Xuelan made a face but he had no words of complaints as he helped Liu Sumeng clear the streets of the fallen ghouls. They only moved on when all the bodies and parts of bodies had been moved, dumped in a grave where they could finally lay to rest. After leaving instructions to cremate the parts just in case, Liu Sumeng and Yuan Xuelan finally resumed their journey farther into Loupu province. They prayed that the other towns on the way were not experiencing similar issues…