Reverend Ecstasy

Chapter 59: What is the Way?

Far beyond the White Immortal sect’s walls, at the western end of Dongli, stood an ancient gray mountain that peaked so high that it seemed to pierce through the vault of heaven. Flocks of cranes circled the mountain walls, the largest led the dance, but despite the wide size and wingspan discrepancies in their ranks, all flew in perfect concert. The larger the crane, the more lustrous their feathers became—so lustrous in fact that it almost seemed as if the leading cranes left a bridge of light for their juniors to follow. If this clearly mystical phenomenon revealed the cranes as a flying pack of mysterious beasts, none seemed to care for them. Better, the villagers that neighbored the mountain often took breaks from their strenuous activities to catch a glimpse of the beasts in flight—then left offerings at the mountain’s foot.

This mountain, the Soaring Crane mountain, housed the number two sect of Dongli and its ruling faction: the Li clan.

‘6,000 years ago, after excavating the Nine Paths of Yin and Yang from ancient ruins, a pair of Dao Companions led their clans to co-found the Dongli state and White Immortal sect. But after millennia of foreign oppression, the Li clan betrayed the sect, selling the Nine Paths of Yin and Yang to a secret faction in exchange for a fearsome offensive cultivation method: the Beast Illumination Skill. Subsequently, they founded the Soaring Crane mountain, became the Dong clan’s new oppressors, and briefly ruled before the appearance of the Zi clan and creation of the Yin-Yang Sword Array.’

Once co-rulers of Dongli, the Li had pride and history that few houses across the state could compete with. But after 1,000 years of the Dong and Zi clans’ complete domination, the Li clan and their Soaring Crane mountain were forced to admit that their short-lived glory would remain a firefly of the past. Coerced by the White Immortal sect, the Soaring Crane mountain not only failed to progress but also regressed on the resources and depth levels. Now, they could only count on three Nascent Soul stage experts and 13 Golden Cores. In comparison, the White Immortal sect had 24 Nascent Souls alone—all skilled formation masters.

Shrouded by the wings of three 100 meters-long cranes, the Soaring Crane mountain’s highest peak towered. A formation of 16 wrinkled men occupied it. All sat crossed-legged, with their hands shifting in arcane signs while their lips whispered incantations. Of the 16, 3 stood out. Shriveled yet vigorous, ailing yet awe-inspiring; dressed in black robes embroidered with a twin-headed white crane, the three men gave an air of extraordinariness and immortality—as if they stood closer to the essence of time and the Grand Dao than most men ever would.

The leader, an emaciated skeleton with trailing gray hair, raised his eyes at the sky. His Spiritual Sense spread out, crossing kilometers to glance at the malignant moon flashing above the White Immortal sect’s dark sky. “They’ve fired the signal,” the leader said—his voice a hoarse and grating strum of words numbed the listeners’ minds with each syllable—then lowered his eyes at a young man who, tied in chains, kneeled before the 16 elders.

“Lord Soaring Crane, there’s still time to give up. Though our current position is no different from cornered convicts, the Dongli state is our home. For centuries we’ve received tributes and offerings from townsfolk and villagers, some of whom don’t even have anything to expect in return. If only for them, how can we consort with the Dark Moon cult and Flower Plucking gang? If only for them, how can we lead these mad and ravenous dogs into Dongli and add a beast tide to our list of sins? Ancestor, wake up! I know how desperate you are to revive the Soaring Crane mountain, but this…isn’t the way!” The young man said, struggling against his chains with wild fury and obvious despair. His eyes trembled as his voice boomed out, and sweat trickled down his jaw.

The leader, Lord Soaring Crane, stared at him. Disappointment and sorrow intertwined in his gaze, and he shook his head.

“As the prime disciple of our core zone, you should know better than most how deep the gap between our junior generations and the White Immortal sect’s is. If only for that, we should take swift action. Yet, this is the least of our worries. Guang Fanghu and Zi Yao have wild and unbridled ambitions. Hanxing is a wolf in sheep clothing and supports their rampage in the shadows. Am I supposed to stand idle and watch as they bare their fangs at my elders’ lifetime achievement? Child, what is the way?”

“Child, what is the way?” This single inquiry knocked out the righteous prime disciple’s confidence. Indeed, while he believed with full conviction that cultivators’ struggles shouldn’t involve mortal lives, faced with this simple question, he had no answer to provide.

“True, our Li clan didn’t do right by our Dong brothers and sisters. But did they not make us pay back hundred-time what we owed? My father, brothers, and sons, whose heads all lay in Hanxing’s trophy room—were they not enough to quell the Dong clan’s hatred? But still, they will not stop, greed has replaced righteous rage, and your generation, that committed no crime, inherited the debts and consequences for your forefathers’ foolishness. Now I have an opportunity to choose between Dongli and Li. My state or my clan. I apologize to those I’m about to wrong, but since these are my only two options, I must secure a future for my descendants,” Lord Soaring Crane said. In his cool and articulated speech, one could find no trace of the “old crook” Lady Ziyun described him as. Rather, Soaring Crane seemed like a racing chariot trapped between two closing walls—and choosing where to crash.

Just like the Dong despised the Li, the Li despised the Dong—no, their hatred ran deeper—running as far as the sea of blood left by the Dong clan’s brutal retaliation. Lord Soaring Crane couldn’t in all good conscience call his elders victims. But after watching them getting butchered, one after another, and seeing his bloodline being cut off under his powerless gaze. After losing so much, so fast, his hatred had gone to the extreme. But now in his twilight years, numbness replaced it all—leaving factional duty to guide his every move.

Raising his eyes, Lord Soaring Crane glanced at a tiny white fox that hovered above the formation. Trapped within a sparkling energy cube, the white fox clawed and flung its ten tails at the energy walls, but failed to leave a dent. Worse, jolts of electricity punished each attempt. Yet the ten-tailed White Fox kept on striking for it knew, it knew, that once it stopped, death would soon welcome it.

Lord Soaring Crane liked this fox, but he liked the Li clan more, so he joined his hands in a mudra and aimed it at the fox. The fox’s red eyes trembled in fear. White flames surged from its fur, embroiling its tails, and lighting up the formation.

‘Of all legendary beasts, the dragon is the strongest, the kun the toughest, the phoenix the noblest, and the qilin the most auspicious. But while it can’t compare to any of these four, the ten-tailed White Fox is by far the most mysterious—both blessed and cursed by Heaven’s Will. Refine its essence, and by using your Beast Illumination Skill, you can lure a beast tide into Dongli and steamroll through the White Immortal sect.’ As he kickstarted the extraction, Lord Soaring Crane recalled the words of the Dark Moon cult leader.

A portal opened above the Soaring Crane mountain, enabling regiments of foreign experts to pour into Dongli.

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