v5c57: The Truth Laid Bare Part 2

Zang Shenhe thought that she was stronger than this, as she wobbled on her feet. She thought that she had conquered the feeling of despair that crawled into her guts long ago. She thought she had mastered her own feelings of weakness, for she had been hardened against it at an early age.

She had been insulted, belittled, scoffed at, and ignored. Her ability, her loyalty, her identity itself had been in question, all because of the actions of another. Her aunt, Zang Wen. The traitor. The weakling, who had been beguiled by a fox.

“Strength Above All: To Protect What We Love!” Zang Yong roared as he went into battle. His smile was wide and his steps were fearless.

Everything about the woman was placed onto Shenhe. They said she was exactly like her, and so Shenhe had based her entire existence around proving that she wasn’t. She hardened her heart. She bore every insult. She strove to prove herself the best and most loyal member the Sect had ever seen in all its years of existence.

She had been the fiercest hunter. She had been a powerful cultivator. Her actions had always been beyond reproach.

Lightning punched through Yong and Nezuhua’s backs.

She told herself that every moment that she had endured had bettered her. And at the end of her road, she would be the best. She would know peace. Somehow, someway, she would defeat the shadow her aunt had cast and stand triumphant.

She thought that nothing could shake her. She thought that no matter what came, she would follow her path unflinchingly—for she was a member of the righteous Shrouded Mountain Sect, guardians of the Howling Fang Mountains, and she would follow their words

Strength Above All.

“We can still make use of its stunted fruit,” the Inquisitors said as they consigned generations of a loyal family to death.

It all started to come tumbling down.

Everything she had done, everything she had dedicated herself to, was a lie. She watched as a man she trusted betrayed his oaths, betrayed his people, betrayed his kin. She watched as a slaughter was perpetuated—a slaughter she herself had taken part in.

She saw her aunt be tortured, broken, for learning the truth— only to be saved by their greatest enemies

Blood filled her mouth and spilled past her lips. Her cultivation’s foundation trembled, barely holding together. Her ears were ringing with the Patriarch’s insidious words and whispers.

At that moment, Shenhe realised she would never wash away the stain. She could never. She was not a person to the Patriarch. She was a useful sword to be used and abandoned as necessary—or she would simply be killed, if the Patriarch had thought her a threat.

Worst of all was the fact that she could not refute what she was seeing. The Lightning Qi within was almost gentle as it caressed her own. It told nothing but the truth. But even without it… even without it, Shenhe knew. Shenhe knew it was true. The pauses in conversation when she asked certain questions. The casualty figures of the Che clan. All the little things that she had purposefully ignored, or told herself that she didn’t have all the details about.

The vision ended with the Patriarch ordering another promising individual killed for getting too close to the truth.

Shenhe fell to her knees. Her lightning sparked feebly around her. She dimly heard the shouts of outrage from the disciples, their cries demanding answers about this secret conspiracy.

Or rather… perhaps not so secret a conspiracy. She turned to her fellow Elder. Zeng had a grimace on his face, but there was no true surprise in his eyes.

She spat out the blood that was in her mouth, focusing entirely on Zeng.

“You knew,” she snarled. The other man looked at her. The man who had so often been the source of her woes. He was clearly deciding on what to say to her… but he evidently decided that lying in the presence of Lord Shen Yu was foolhardy.

“Some,” he stated simply. “Not all. I knew of the origins of the Sect, and about the Che clan.”

The words were damning. He had known. She wanted to scream and rage and tear the crippled bastard in two.

He had known that what they did was based on a lie and yet…

“…Why?” she whispered.

“Why what?” the other man asked.

“Why did you do nothing?!” Shenhe demanded.

The Shrouded Mountain Sect was a righteous sect, defenders of the Howling Fang Mountains against the foxes. They were above others because of their actions.

“And do what?” Zeng asked derisively. “Go openly against the Patriarch and die? Make amends to beasts? Admit we were wrong to people who would see us destroyed? Did you forget the war? The Foxes have as much blood on their hands as we do. So what if it was a lie? The Shrouded Mountain Sect was strong. Mighty. We had the best resources and the most power in the province. Should we give it all up, everything our family has achieved, for a war won in the Age of Heroes? Strength Above All. Those are our words.”

The words were cynical. They were words that she had heard hundreds of times. And she supposed the words were the end point of their Sect’s abbreviated mantra.

Strength above all, no matter what.

“So that’s it? In the end all that you are is a greedy coward, just like your entire line’s sire,” Shenhe snarled.

Zeng’s entire body tensed and rage filled his eyes at the comparison. “I am no coward!” he roared. “I did not flinch from my end! In fact, I would be glad for it now rather than hearing this, seeing this. Our Sect is destroyed—my sons are likely all dead. Neither of us have anything any more. We shall be swallowed up by others who envied our position. The last fading glow from a bolt of lightning.”

Despite his bluster, his words were bitter. Shenhe heard the worried muttering from the disciples. That they were arguing in front of their subordinates like this was shameful. Doubly so since the Cloudy Sword Sect was watching them. All the humans and all the animals were here. It was all out in the open—a scene better suited for thundering rain was instead lit by the bright light of the early winter sun.

All of their disciples had fought so hard and lost so much, only to continue losing everything. They looked lost. Most of them still bore the wounds of their battle, and now… they were being told it was hopeless.

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The fire and the hate burned out of Shenhe’s stomach. Her Qi still roiled and sparked.

“Is your sect destroyed?” Bi De asked. His voice made them all startle. The red-haired man had his arms crossed. “Last I saw, the Patriarch was on the precipice of defeat, with the rest of the sect rising against him—and though we fought once… I don’t think Sheng would be killed by something like this. The Shrouded Mountain Sect stands… but at the precipice. There is still time to save it, if you believe it is worth saving. You should make your choices—for the decision you make now will come to define you.”

With those words, the members of the Cloudy Sword Sect quietly left, leaving them to ponder the revelations they had been given.

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Shenhe wandered about in a daze. She had asked Lady Meiling if they were confined to the fortress, but the woman had shaken her head and had simply told her to stay away from the house.

No others had taken her up on the offer. They were too injured, too weak, and too shaken. Most just wanted food, sleep, and to wake up, to have found all of this to have been but a bad dream.

Something Shenhe herself desired.

Yet it was a hopeless dream. This was reality.

She trudged slowly through the snow in a circuit. Followed and watched, of course, but she didn’t care. She had nothing to hide. Her cultivation was too unstable to do any damage even if she wanted to at this point.

A lifetime of work, all for a lie. It was honestly funny in some ways.

A choked sob found itself coming from her throat. The sun ascended in the sky, and she slowly found herself wandering back towards the fortress.

She paused on a hill overlooking the fortress. Lord Shen Yu was seated with a babe in his lap, looking at a single corpse they had pulled from the pile. Most of the other Cloudy Sword Sect members were around it and seemed to be preparing a formation at the direction of Lord Rou.

Bi De stood on one side of the pile, and the orange-haired girl on the other.