Chapter 5- Qualifications of a Clenched Fist and an Open Palm

There were considerably fewer test takers assembled at the mouth of the valley. Elder Deepwalker gave them all a sardonic look, or what Tian interpreted as a sardonic look. It could be hard to read a Crane’s expressions, but once you learned to study the whole body and not the face, you did pick up a few things.

Elder Rui was still here, as was Elder Redmane and the crow Burning Heaven had identified as Senior Brother Brightheart. Brightheart’s companion, the cheerful looking daoist, was still on his back, though looking considerably less cheerful. No one was looking well. He turned to face Liren. She wouldn’t meet his gaze, turning away, raising her hands between them.

“Please. Later.” Liren’s voice was twisted and choked. Tian blew a slow breath out and turned away. The illusion said she was picking at the cracks in Liren’s heart, and those had always been plain. Tian knew he was one of them. Perhaps the largest of them. It wasn’t hard to imagine the cruelties inflicted on her by illusions wearing his face and speaking with his voice.

“A round dozen of you left. That’s a bit high. Well tempered dao hearts, this generation. Not bad. I suppose that little rascal did throw out a lot of the bums, which helps.”

Tian had to really focus to find who was speaking. It was a light, pleasant voice, even if the tone was indifferent. The “Not bad” carried the weight of someone watching a student practice their basic three hundred characters. “Oh, you wrote ‘Mountain’ very tidily. Not bad.” He eventually spotted a sparrow sitting on a branch. It was a rather cheerful golden-yellow color. He wondered if she would be interested in some seeds, then quickly amended the thought.

He only had Earthly Realm food, no different than mortal fare. He’d rather not offend the Emissary with what she would consider trash. Especially if “That little rascal” referred to Starsieve. Just how powerful were the hegemons of the mountain?

“Powerful beyond your comprehension, and they are far from the peak of the world. You are trying to judge the height of a mountain based on all the anthills you have seen, never having looked into the distance and seen the myriad other peaks. It’s not that I’m more powerful than Starsieve was. I’m not. It’s just that I remember when he was still a wet behind the ears novice, picking which path to follow by tossing a stick in the air and going whichever way it pointed.”

The little golden sparrow turned towards him and flew to a closer branch, even as she remained exactly where she was before. Another illusion, cast seamlessly. It didn’t even slow the real Emissary’s speech.

“Since we have a few too many, we’ll switch to everyone’s favorite way of picking who’s best. Violence. I’m tossing you all into an illusion and throwing enemies at you until you reach your limits. Those who can exceed their limits, or at the very least show me something that impresses me, will come with me to the Windsong Pavilion to pay your respects. If one or two of you pass the Misteress’ inspection, you will be presented to the Grandmaster.”

The golden sparrow looked over the crowd for a moment. Tian had the oddest feeling that she was waiting for something.

“I am waiting for something. The right moment. It’s now!” The illusion cut off the final word with a starting shout, and he found himself on the red sands of the wasteland once again.

“I miss Liren. Which is odd to say, given that I’ve been arms length from her this whole time. Any chance we can do a shared illusion trial?” Tian asked.

The sparrow answered in the form of two heretics emerging from the sand. He could feel the elements flowing through them, see their breaths stirring the cloths wrapping their face, see the myriad nicks and imperfections that scarred their weapons. Each distinct, each reeking of slaughter. They didn’t waste any words. They just struck.

For a fleeting moment, it felt like coming home.

The two attacked from front and back. One stabbed high with a spear, the other dashed close with a pair of stout daggers. Tian didn’t wait to see where he would try to stick them. He jolted to the left and flung out his hand. It would take very keen eyes to see six needles come flying out and split into two groups of three. The results didn’t take keen eyes at all. Ragged holes opened in heretic foreheads, as the bloodied darts returned to his hand.

The next wave had three heretics, two wearing helmets. Tian dashed out of the encirclement, the rope dart sliding into his right hand as his left threw out the imperial heavenly swallows once more. A halberd with crescent moon axe blades on either side chopped for him, as an axe and shield wielder rushed to close distance. Circling around the back was an archer, waiting for his shot.

Tian sent all six swallows darting for the archer as he wrapped the dart around the edge of the shield and moved to put the axeman between him and the halberd. Three complex actions at the same time, each requiring a thread of attention. Each carried out flawlessly. The last two years had been a time of intense accumulation and consolidation. His techniques were polished, he had the experience, he knew his equipment intimately. The three heretics couldn’t hold up.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.