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136 - Imprints on the Sand
🕑 Added 2025-01-23 20:18:15 +0000 UTC“So, what do you plan to do about all this?” the young man said, pointing at the grey flesh slowly wriggling on the ground, tendrils rising up to slowly pull the chunks together. “Should we try and burn it?”
Qin Yun paused, looking at the torch in his hand, then back at the morsel of meat slowly regeneration, pondering something, yet soon came to a decision.
"That would be a waste, wouldn't it?" Qin Yun replied. "It's not every day one finds something this interesting. How many creatures can claim to be immortal? This one nearly is, if only they weren't dead already."
“They’re dead? Are you sure?” the young outsider asked, using the tip of his bone sword to poke one of the larger chunks.
The mass of flesh didn't react to the stimuli, yet he could feel a slight pulse transmitted through the weapon, almost as if a heartbeat lay buried deep within. He couldn't help but frown, questioning whether life still existed within this mass. But then, even more grey tendrils sprouted from it, distorting its former form as they wrapped themselves around the edge, almost pulling the deadly instrument out of the young man's hand. Fortunately, Qin Yun reacted quickly.
Using the torch itself, Qin Yun created an arc from which a sharpness emerged. It ripped through the air, barrelling toward the tendrils trying to wrest the sword from the young man’s hands, if only to sever them in two. While the cut tendrils retreated within the flesh, the parts that clung to the bone weapon soon disinterested into the air as miniature particles.
Qin Yun could even feel them attacking his lungs, trying to infiltrate his body as he took a breath. However, as soon as they came into contact with his blood, where the power of his tribulation qi flowed, they vanished out of existence. On the other hand, the young man seemed perfectly fine, almost immune to this level of corruption.
“What did you do?” the young man asked, feeling the sharpness of that blow lingering at the tip of his weapon. Somehow, it reminded him of the feeling he had while travelling through the newly created tunnel that led him here. However, just as soon as he turned to face Qin Yun, he couldn’t help but frown.
Blood pooled at the corner of Qin Yun’s eyes before falling like tears, staining the white rock in a shade of red. Although he once believed that the blood staining Qin Yun’s skin was due to his battle against his two opponent, now, the young man wasn’t sure.
“Don't let it bother you. This happens often these days—more than I'd like to," Qin Yun said as he wiped the blood using his sleeve. While the young man seemed unconvinced, he let it go and focused on something more important.
“We can't just leave it like this. There's no telling what it might do once it fully reconstructs itself," he sighed but turned to face Qin Yun. "Do you think they might recover from this?"
He spoke those words without even believing in this notion. He only wanted someone to agree with him. However, Qin Yun’s answer wasn’t something he expected.
"I'm sure it will, in time," Qin Yun replied calmly. "The vessel is quite easy to reconstruct. Even on the mainland, many techniques and medicinal herbs offer the same results. It's only about the transference of energy, after all. No. The real problem is the essence. Once damaged, it is incredibly difficult to repair. Even if the corruption can remould their physique, their essence—their souls or whatever you'd like to call it—will never return. They'll only be puppets by then."
“If so, why not just get rid of them?”
"Because this can give us insight into the grey corruption. It would be a shame to let it go to waste."
With but a nod, the invisible black box positioned itself right over the countless grey morsels of flesh scattered on the ground. Surprisingly, Qin Yun saw the countless tendrils extending toward each other suddenly twitch in unison. Instantly, they all snapped in the same direction, aiming straight at the hovering box. Qin Yun couldn't help but frown, yet a few moments later, a smile appeared on his lips.
While the regeneration was extremely slow, the tendrils extending about an inch a minute, they all rushed toward the box at uncanny speed. Yet Qin Yun remarked that the flesh from which they sprouted was decaying at an alarming rate, almost as if they were sapping all the remaining vitality in an effort to promote their growth.
However, despite this sudden, desperate attack, the black box would have the last laugh.
The countless tendrils rammed against the box's surface, yet it didn't move a single inch, almost as if it was fixed in place. They didn't even leave a single dent on its surface or make any sound at the moment of the collision. If anything, it made the situation even more surreal, especially for the young man who only saw the tendrils abruptly rise in the air, aiming at something that wasn't even there. However, only Qin Yun knew what had happened in great detail.
The tendrils didn't even reach the box. A layer of compressed space had stopped them. In fact, "stopped" might have been the wrong word to use. In a sense, they were still travelling at full speed; none of their velocity had been lost. It was only that the distance between the box and the tip of those tendrils was much greater than it seemed, almost infinitely so. At this speed, it would take millennia for the corruption to reach it, but the box would only need an instant—and that instant came abruptly.
The black box shifted, creating a large opening encompassing most of the room. It was like a giant maw wishing to take but a single bite out of the surrounding space. Despite being just an inanimate object possessing no inherent intent, the young man still felt a chill down his back, almost as if death loomed over him.
Then, a moment later, both the grey flesh and the tendrils vanished, leaving only the black box slowly rotating overhead before it returned next to Qin Yun.
“I have to ask," the young outsider said, almost stammering every word. "Are all Avaads as strange as you?"
Qin Yun's smile grew wide, and he almost uttered a laugh, but he could only reply, "You know what? I once thought it would be more interesting if there was, but now? I feel the world is already strange enough as it is."
The young man frowned and briefly looked toward Qin Yun but soon sighed as he replayed the events in his mind. He couldn't help but feel dread as he remembered the grey tendrils just vanishing out of existence. It wasn't the sort of rational fear one could explain with logic, but something more gut-wrenching, more visceral—something coming straight out of one's soul, overwhelming and omnipresent.
He couldn't help but look at Qin Yun in a new light; it wasn't such a great feeling. Even if Qin Yun possessed the Lady's seal, the man thought he was just another Avaad, yet it seemed she had chosen him for a reason—and that reason was beginning to frighten him.
“So, where have they gone?” Qin Yun asked.
“What?” the man replied, snapping out of his trance.
“The Exiles?” Qin Yun added. “You mentioned you knew where they went?”
“Ah, yes! The tracks lead to the south-west. I found what seemed to be a shipyard next to the riverbed. There were remnants, bone shards, and leather scraps around the shore. It seems as if they made boats to cross the river."
"Wait," Qin Yun interjected. "Didn't you say those were dummy tracks, and it was impossible to reach the other shore? Don't tell me this is some sort of double-fake."
"Not at all," the man replied with a slight smile plastered on his lips. "About a day's journey to the north is a small oasis where I believe they might have taken refuge. It's a little too small for their needs, but I guess they'll only linger there for a few days before venturing deeper into the West. Judging by the depths of the tracks, we should only be a day behind. If we leave now, we should be able to catch up to them before they relocate."
While what the man said made sense, Qin Yun couldn’t help but have some doubts. Firstly, the only way to erase the tracks of an entire tribe's migration was time. Only the desert could do so, yet the man's hypothesis was based only on conjecture and not on empirical evidence. He had found no traces leading to the north, meaning they would have left much earlier than they once believed.
Secondly, there was the issue of the two men Qin Yun found loitering in this chamber. He didn't believe that a strike team of such strength wouldn't possess a tracker that would be outdone by a warrior who had barely reached adulthood. They wouldn't have made such a simple mistake as to be fooled by dummy tracks leading to the river's other shore. Unless they weren't the only ones here, and the others were scouring the desert, but then, one question came to mind. Why hadn't that young man come across them?
And finally, there's the most obvious clue: this chamber itself. Why would they still be here if they believed the Exiles were already gone? Better yet, why would they need to lay in ambush in a secret chamber? There are only two explanations. Either they thought they would come back eventually, or they never left!
Qin Yun smiled, an idea forming in his mind. In a single leap, he raced toward the tunnel he had created, rushing outside, only to look up toward the summit of this rock formation. It had been more than a few hours since the sun had faded to the north, and now it was finally returning from the south, its light finally giving colours back to this sea of black. He felt the dampness of the morning air against his skin, coming from the nearby river, and the humidity rising from the ground under his feet. Somehow, the desert sand seemed even more damp than usual.
But then, something struck him. He felt a blinding light strike against his retina despite the sun rising behind him. At first, he thought it was merely the reflection of the sun's light against the white stone mountain, yet after quickly calculating the angle of this reflection, he noticed that the only way this could have happened would be for the light to strike from the top of the mountain. Only after he raised his head fully did he find what he was looking for.
"Bingo," he muttered, yet the young man beside him was utterly confused.
“We should leave now if we wish to catch up to them,” he said. “Once they reach the deep desert, there’s no way we’ll be able to find them.”
"Oh, that's what they want us to think," Qin Yun smiled. "They made this big, elaborated setup, hoping to confuse their pursuers, and it might have worked at first, yet some of them weren't fooled. At least two remained behind to scour every inch of this place. I wouldn't be surprised if there were more waiting inside."
"All the more reason we should leave," the man said. "Didn't you already have enough trouble dealing with only two?"
"They're inconsequential," Qin Yun shrugged. "This place is built like a maze, made to confuse people. There's no way these people can live there with any kind of comfort, which means they didn't."
“What do you mean? I’m sure this is one of their bases.”
"It's more of a defence system," Qin Yun struck back. "Who in their right mind would live in a place with so many entrances? It would be a nightmare to defend unless none of those entrances led to their true shelter."
“Then how, pray tell, do you believe they enter and exit this place?” the man said, confused.
However, Qin Yun had already found the answer. Without waiting a moment, he simply raised his still-burning torch to the sky, pointing to the top of the sheer vertical cliff before them, prompting the young man to raise his gaze.
“Up there, of course,” Qin Yun replied.
