Chapter 15- Gone But Not Forgotten

Tian was lightheaded from the shimmering, twisting agony of the demon’s finger. It had reached a point of obliteration, where the pain simply overwhelmed rational thought and demanded that the panicked animal do whatever was necessary to escape. Weighed against that was the increasingly loud chant from the Hell Suppressing Sutra. As the curse qi intensified within his body, the Sutra grew louder in his ears and worked more quickly. Tian had been counting on it- a calculated risk in the midst of danger.

He had to rescue the child, kill the heretic, save Sister Liren… too many things to keep straight, too complicated for him to handle perfectly. At the heart of it was the demon’s finger. It reeked and shimmered with curse qi, struggling to do terrible things. It could not be destroyed or tamed. It could only be obeyed or suppressed. Tian was the vile thing’s natural counter. But not without cost.

His eyes were wide open, and saw nothing. He was an empty vessel that simply breathed. The Advent of Spring and the Hell Suppressing Sutra worked in tandem to refine the demonic qi tearing apart his body and mind, but in order to protect that mind, the droning chant drowned out all other thought. The chant was just sounds without meaning to one in the state of no-mind. But something in him heard those ancient holy words. Some instinct, some desire for the serenity he saw in his father.

Tian’s left hand reached down and pulled the rosary from his belt. He let it fall, hooking it with his thumb as he grabbed the demon finger with the other hand. He didn’t try to pull it out. The hand holding the rosary came up in front of his face. Parallel to his nose, hand bladed, thumb tucked against his palm. Something to focus on, in a state where thought could no longer exist.

His eyes slowly closed. There was only repeating breath. With every repetition, the cycle got slower and longer. Each indrawn breath filled his lungs past what a mortal would think they could hold, and each exhalation lasted longer than a mortal could survive. The smell of lotuses intensified around his body, then filled the room with divine fragrance. Where the demon finger pierced his chest, black necrotic flesh was hemmed in by a thin band of shimmering golden flesh, white smoke faintly rising from the confrontation.

This was the scene that the Red Plume Soldiers found when they came storming in. They stopped dead at the door for a moment. Frozen by the scene, the smells, the feeling of the concentrated qi in the air. Then they pressed in, rushing for Xiaobai. Each was a volunteer, willing to die for the General. Once they had her, they bowed towards the ‘corpse’ and retreated.

Next in was Hong Liren, accompanied by two old men. One was dressed in courtly robes, the other wore the same iron scale armor as the cavalrymen. They too stopped suddenly at the door.

The cavalryman grunted, looking unmoved but keeping his voice soft. “What do you make of it, old Zhou?”

“Like the… honored visitor said. He isn’t dead in a technical sense, but do you feel that qi?” The Civil Servant’s voice was no less soft, but his old friend could hear it trembling with rage.

“I can smell the flowers.”

“Lotus Return Seven Severings. There is no doubt. This Venerable…” The scholar chopped out each word like he was cutting iron nails. “Next time I see someone claiming to be an ascetic, I’m going to punch them in the fucking neck.”

“Language, Censor.” The cavalryman sounded like he would have chuckled under other circumstances.

“Fuck that, what else could it be? The yang qi full of wood and water, the scent of lotuses in the air, the plainly young flesh that is burning itself alive to bind sin!” The old man in courtly robes looked ready to spit with fury.

“All those accumulated years of power. Decades, centuries, spent cultivating the lotus within. Burned in a single night. My scouts reported that he was level six when he fought the mercenaries. Ji was only level five. How far was he willing to burn himself down?” The cavalryman asked, voice still soft.

The censor pointed. “That far. That’s how far he is willing to go. No wonder he said he was willing to die without a name or a grave. My tortoise shell exploded this afternoon, and on the largest piece was the character VIRTUE. The city’s fortune will be purified by this sacrifice. There won’t even be ashes left of his corpse at the end. All for a city he had never seen, and a girl he had never met. Meanwhile, we let our feet be nailed to the palace floor due to politics. Due to interests and face. We have been too soft, Old Bei. We have been too understanding. Our duty is to the kingdom, not to local interests. Suffer not the heretic to live. Not one more day. Not one more hour.”

The cavalryman nodded slightly. “The Ma boy already has the kids on their horses. You just tell them where to ride.”

“No fear. I have a list.” The Censor pulled out a scroll from his storage ring, then looked over at the visitor from Ancient Crane Mountain.

“Hong, you said your name was. Any relation to the Burning Heavens Chamber of Commerce?”

“My family… once owned such a Chamber, Censor Zhou.” Hong had been keeping quiet and letting her elders reach their own conclusions.

“Shame what happened to them. Damned shame.” The cavalryman nodded. Hong just bowed her head.

“You said he wanted you to carry his body away from the city?”

“Yes. He said he would… seal the demon, but that ‘A little monk should be humble. Carry his empty flesh far, far away, lest he harm the innocent by overestimating his strength.’”

Censor Zhou swung his fist out and shattered the doorframe into dust. “My hand slipped.”

“Your hand slipped.” The cavalryman agreed.

“Go. We will speak to the others from your sect about this. There will be consequences. But we won’t disrespect his sacrifice by talking about it here. Take his body and run north. Keep running until the body evaporates. I expect all that will be left is the finger and the rosary, damn it all to Hell.” The cavalryman pointed in the direction she was to run in.

Hong bowed and gently scooped Tian off the ground. The old men marked how the monk seemed weightless in her arms, and hid their shivers. She bowed again, and kicked an exterior wall out. She jumped, landing light as a feather on the ground.

“Clear a path to the North Gate! Clear a path and salute the Martyr Venerable!” The voice of a general roared out from the mansion and covered the whole city. Iron clad cavalry pounded down the thoroughfares, driving pedestrians into the alleys or back into their homes.

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

Word had reached them about what happened. The City Lord’s daughter, the General’s granddaughter, Little Bai, had been stolen by evil cultivators. A good monk burned away his immortal life to save her. And now his body was being carried out of the city, sealing the demonic weapon. One last service for the people by a monk without a name.

The cavalry had no tolerance for slowness or disobedience. Not tonight.

Hong set off at a gentle jog, running faster than the fastest horse in the army. Her every step touched softly upon the road but the sound of her footfalls reverberated as though a mountain had descended. Hong ran for the north and the steppes, watched by a wide eyed city. A legendary immortal, carrying a legendary monk. It was a night that no one in Burning Flag city would forget.