Chapter 586: Cultivation is Creation - Chapter 581: The Hall of Shattered Reflections

I needed to move, but I also needed to be careful.

Tian was watching while at the same time thinking that he was actually Ke Yin, so if I used the power of the two suns here too blatantly, he would surely notice. So I did what I had been practicing while traveling to Stillwater City.

I let the red sun energy loose within my system, but I wrapped it within layers and layers of dream qi.

The silver energy of dream cultivation surrounded and masked the unique aura of the red sun’s power. To most people, it would look like I was using some demonic dream technique to bolster my powers.

The transformation began.

My right arm restructured itself, but instead of the red vines I was used to seeing, this arm was comprised of dark grey plants with veins of silver running through them.

The dream qi ran through them in patterns, making it appear as if this arm was nothing more than another creation of oneiric cultivation. Like the false nightmares we had fought previously, the vines had a sickly glow to them, and the movement of the plants had that strange, flowing motion unique to nightmares.

The transformation was complete. Now all I had to do was put it all together. And I had to be fast. Because I was sure now that whatever power Tian had just used to cut through my temporal energy, he would surely use again.

Now was the time to end this fight.

I performed Blink Step, but I fed it dream qi as well, masking it as some other technique of oneiric cultivation. I felt the world around me bend and warp, and I felt myself being compressed, and suddenly, I was no longer next to Tian, but instead, I was in front of Song Wei.

My nightmare hand smashed into the quickly forming silver sigil, and the temporal energy scattered like glass, shards of it flying everywhere.

Song Wei’s eyes widened in shock as he watched the power he had gathered dissipate into nothingness.

Shen Bolin had been preparing his own counter-law, much like I had done. His hands moved in intricate patterns, weaving dream qi into the sigils of “Law of Absolute Defense.” But he never finished because Tian had moved.

I didn’t see him do it, but somehow, Tian had drawn his sword. It was silver, glowing with the same energy as his techniques before. And he was fast. Faster than I would have expected from an Early Oneiric Sovereign. He crossed the distance between himself and Shen Bolin in a single step.

The silver sword swept through the air, cutting through the unfinished sigil of “Law of Absolute Defense.” And just like that, Shen Bolin’s technique was gone. His hands moved in confusion as the dream qi scattered to the winds, the technique failing before it could even finish.

Silence reigned in the chamber. All eyes were on Tian and me.

Song Wei looked stunned, and for once, he seemed incapable of putting together a single biting remark. Shen Bolin looked just as surprised, his hands still moving as if he were trying to re-form the broken sigil.

Pan Jun’s jaw was slack in shock as he stared at the two of us. “Did… did they just…”

Xu Feng finished for him with a whisper. “They destroyed Lucid Lawbearer techniques without being Lucid Lawbearers themselves.”

Xie Ling, the normally stoic and unemotional Xie Ling, looked dumbfounded. Her face was pale as she stared at us in shock. “That is impossible! Law techniques are…” she hesitated, then looked at me. “Oneiric Sovereigns don’t have access to those techniques on a fundamental level.”

“That red energy that Hou is using,” said Li Na, who I almost forgot was there. “It’s something else. Something that doesn’t care about the natural laws of cultivation.” She cast a glance at my arm as if it might bite her.

“That sword technique,” said Song Wei, looking at Tian. “Where did you learn that?”

The boy lowered his sword but didn’t sheath it. “I created it myself.”

I let the transformation dissipate as I returned to normal. The red sun energy in my arm receded, returning to my inner world.

“Fighting won’t get you anywhere,” I said to the two Lawbearers. “You two are evenly matched. The battle could drag on for eternity, and neither one of you will have accomplished anything.” I turned to the other survivors. “Neither one of you will live long enough to even see the lotus if you keep this up.”

“Brother Hou is right,” said Xu Feng, straightening himself from his kneeling position on the ground. “The longer we waste fighting amongst ourselves, the more vulnerable we are to attack from outside forces.” He looked from Song Wei to Shen Bolin. “Both of you understand this, right?”

Song Wei gave me a strange look. I could almost call it disappointment, but it wasn’t quite there. He wanted to continue the fight, but it wasn’t due to any sort of enjoyment. It was more like he was frustrated that Tian had ruined his plans so easily.

“And what would you have us do?”

“You both want the lotus,” I said evenly. “So I propose a temporary truce. We put an end to this childish rivalry for now, and we work together to get through these trials. Once we get to the core chamber, then you two can resume your little competition.”

“Absolutely not!” said Shen Bolin immediately. “You can’t trust Song Wei! I would rather die than let him have the lotus!”

“While the first three trials can be taken on individually,” cut in Li Na surprisingly, “the final two need a powerful team to get through. They can’t be taken on by a single person, not even a Lucid Lawbearer.”

All eyes were on Li Na as she spoke. She was small and thin, her arms wrapped around her stomach as she spoke. “I did a lot of research on this palace before leading this expedition.” She looked up at the two Lawbearers. “According to my research, most people who enter this palace and reach the core chamber do so with a team of people. They are strong, but not as strong as either of you. But they supported each other through the final trials, and that is why they were able to pass.”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Song Wei nodded. “The girl is right.”

“I would rather die than let you have the lotus,” Shen Bolin growled. “I will kill you if you try to take it.”

“There will be plenty of time for you to kill each other,” I said dryly. “Like I said before, once we get out of this nightmare-inducing death trap, you two can have your dramatic final showdown. But until then, I would appreciate it if you two would stop wasting time and energy on each other.”

Song Wei seemed to have accepted this, although it was obvious that he didn’t want to. “The boy is right,” he muttered. “Although it pains me to admit it, fighting amongst ourselves will get us nowhere.”

“So you two will stop?” asked Tian.

“We will keep a truce,” said Song Wei. “Until we get to the core chamber. Then we will see who is truly worthy of obtaining the lotus.”

“Fine,” grumbled Shen Bolin. “But know this, Song Wei: I will be watching you. If you try to take advantage of this situation and claim the lotus for yourself, this truce is over.”

“And likewise,” said Song Wei.

The tension in the room didn’t dissipate immediately, but it did go down a lot. This was obviously not an ideal situation for either of the Lawbearers, but they both recognized the necessity of it.

“So we are all going to be working together then?” asked Xu Feng, his round face showing a mix of emotions. “Eight cultivators banding together to take on this expedition?”

“For now,” said Xie Ling coldly. “Let’s not get too sentimental about this.”

“I’ll take a temporary ceasefire over dying,” said Pan Jun, still rubbing his arm.

We spent the next hour recovering and preparing for the next trial. The chamber we were in was relatively safe, at least for the time being, as there were no signs of any nightmare entities or other types of enemies.

I sat down beside Tian, who was cleaning his blade with a piece of cloth from his storage ring. “That was impressive,” I said. “The way you cut through his technique. I never knew swords could do that.”

“If you understand something deeply enough,” he said with a small smile, “you can cut through it no matter how much spiritual power it has.”

“Sounds like something out of a cultivation manual,” I said, glancing at him sideways. I wondered if he was thinking about Wu Kangming, his true self.

“I actually thought it was all just theory until today,” he let out a small laugh.

We sat in comfortable silence for a time before Tian spoke again. “Hou… can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“What happened to you after the fall? You said that you lost your memories, but…”

I stared at my hands for a moment. The truth was complicated to explain, and it was easy to get caught up in the details, but I told him what I could. I told him that Moon had found me at the bottom of Thornwood Deep. I had been injured, and she had been nice enough to take care of me while I recovered. But when I woke up, I had forgotten everything that had happened before. All I knew was that my name was Hou, and that I didn’t know anything about Tian or our travels together.

“It must’ve been really scary to lose all those memories,” he said softly when I finished.

“It was confusing,” I admitted. “Like I read a book and found out the first ten chapters were missing.”

“Well I’m glad you’re back,” he let out a small smile. “Even if you’re different now.”

“Different how?” my right eyebrow raised up in curiosity.

“You seem stronger and more confident,” he said. “It’s like you know exactly who you are and what you want. The Hou I remember was always searching for something but never quite finding it. You seem complete now.”

That was perceptive of him to notice, but he was right.

The original Hou, like Tian, hadn’t been able to cultivate, and that had weighed down heavily on him. In a world where spiritual power determined worth, it made him doubt himself and see himself as a second-class citizen. Unlike him, I didn’t have that struggle. I knew exactly what I was and what I could do.

“Near-death experiences can change a person.”

That was the best excuse I could give.

Fortunately for me, that seemed good enough because Tian nodded slowly and whispered: “True.”

While we were in the middle of our conversation, across the room, I noticed what the others had been getting up to. Song Wei and Shen Bolin continued their quiet argument. Xu Feng was helping Pan Jun get some more painkillers, while Xie Ling meditated in silence. As for Li Na, the only sign that she was there at all was the shadow that flickered across the stone floor.

“This is already going to be interesting,” I muttered.

“What is?” asked Tian.

“Eight cultivators banding together to take on this expedition,” I sighed. “What could possibly go wrong?”

“When you put it that way, it does sound like a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Well, at least it won’t be boring.”

Just as I finished talking, Song Wei stood up and motioned toward the passage. “The Hall of Shattered Reflections awaits. Remember, this is an individual trial. You will be facing your demons alone. We’ll regroup on the other side when we’re done.”

One by one, we approached the archway that led to the second trial. Li Na went first, disappearing through the threshold without a sound. Xu Feng followed, then Pan Jun, moving carefully because of his injuries. Xie Ling went next.

Shen Bolin and Song Wei went at the same time, apparently unwilling to let the other go first and potentially gain some advantage.

“Ready?” asked Tian when it was just me and him left.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I responded.

“See you on the other side then, brother,” said Tian, gripping my shoulder for a moment before moving through the archway.

With a deep breath, I followed him.

It was strange, the sensation of moving through the wall. One moment I was in the chamber with the black stone walls and floor, and the next I was on a corridor. It stretched on and on and on in both directions, the length of it impossible to tell.

Mirrors lined the walls. Hundreds of them, maybe thousands. I could see my own face staring back at me from within them, my reflection repeating down the length of the corridor. And yet, even though I saw my own face, I knew it wasn’t really me.

“Master, keep track of which reflection is the real you,” Azure advised.

I narrowed my eyes as I looked at the mirrors. Within one, the Hou Hongyun I saw looked successful, dressed in fine silk. But in another, he was covered in scars, and his eyes were haunted. In the third, he was old, his hair white. In the fourth, he was smiling, laughing with some unseen friends.

These were all possible versions of me. Alternate lives I could have led if I had made different choices. This was a trial meant to test me, to show me all the paths I hadn’t taken.

There was silence, save for the sound of dripping water. I didn’t know where it was coming from, but it made the already ominous atmosphere even more creepy. The air smelled damp and old, like there wasn’t a single breath of fresh air in this place. The phosphorescent fungi that had been on the previous chamber’s walls were gone, replaced with a sickly green light that came from the mirrors themselves.

I hated this kind of place, the kinds of places that were often found in scary stories. Endless hallways, strange monsters lurking around the corner, the feeling of always being watched. Sure, it was fun to watch those movies, but it was much less fun to actually be in one.

I began walking forward, making sure to keep track of which reflection was me. Each one showed me a different version of myself, each one a possibility that had been open to me. A farmer, a general, a scholar, a monster… There was an infinite number of things I could have become, things I had wanted to become.

But something was wrong. One of the reflections moved.

I stopped walking as I stared at this particular mirror.

The reflection stopped too, but its timing was off by half a second even though it mirrored my posture perfectly. I narrowed my eyes as I stared at him. His eyes were exactly the same as mine, except for the fact that they weren’t filled with the same concern that was in mine, they were filled with a smile.

I watched, transfixed, as the reflection’s grin grew wider and wider. And then it stepped forward, moving through the wall of the mirror as if it were liquid. A copy of myself stepped out from within the glass, his eyes the same pale blue as mine, but more cold, more hungry.

“Hello, Hou,” it said. “Or should I say Ke Yin? We need to talk.”