Chapter 123: Hidden Concerns

At the very moment, a collective set of eyes was irresistibly drawn toward Qian Ye. Zhu Huan leapt to his feet and bellowed with vehemence,”What are you looking at? Be decent and drink your wine!”

The sharp scolding bore excellent results. Almost without exception, every pair of glancing eyes hastily turned away.

The entire spectacle, though, eventually managed to draw at least a modicum of earnest interest from Qian Ye; the dark obsidian-like clarity of his gaze flicked with curious intrigue, “It appears that they fear you?”

Zhu Huan grumped,”Show your face in with the head of a second-degree Viscount and witness the kind of fear in question. Is your stance on my worthiness in accompanying you into battle unaltered at present?”

Surprise touched the edges of Qian Ye’s expression. In the mist-laden forest – such is an environment ill-tempered toward the race of men with natural disadvantages for human-like creatures – even a twelve-stage human general would find difficulty in ending a second-rate Dark Viscount single-handed. There was indeed something formidable if Zhu Huan had managed to present a viscount’s severed head alone.

However, Qian Ye maintained his composure and declined,”Lone combats suit me best.”

Faced with that stance, nothing further seemed viable from Zhu Huan. She merely stared at Qian Ye defiantly, eyes aflame with resentment but, curiously, she bit her tongue back from any violent outbreak,”Still here for what, then?”

“To wait”, said Qian Ye, “to wait as darkness blankets the land.”

At that, confusion clouded Wu Zhu Huan’s countenance,”Wait for nighttime? Why, to march forth in darkness? For gods’ sake, are you daft? You know the nocturnal dominance favored our dark-seeing foes! Nightfall grants them an upper hand; even I don’t opt for nighttime engagements lightly.”

Silence was Qian Ye’s retort in place of words.

Pertinacity stirred in Zhu hwan, realization breaking,”You’re keeping tabs on that bunch that lurks, Lusha perhaps.”

Though her assumption found no denial from Qian Ye, his posture betrayed a nonchalant admission. He polished off his glass in silence and rose, declaring,”The night fast approaches; it is time.”

As the fading silhouette departed from sight, rising impulsively from her chair, Zhu felt on the urging verge of speaking only to collapse back down, silenced by the void.

On the ethereal floating continent, observing a summit-kissed solar rise was rare; still, day’s cycle into twilight mirrored other territories below. At this hour, as ambient brightness ebbed, Qian Ye wandered into the distance till shrouded by gray-hazed wisps creeping at the horizon’s far reach.

At their watchtowers’ edge, Douli released pent breath while redirecting,”Our Boss, must we let him go?”

Lusha stood as immovable as a statue, crossed-arm stance betraying nothing but the heavy silence until at very last, a reply rumbled deep from within,”Perhaps our friend shall challenge for top standing upon our Battle’s Hall of Fame.”

At face value, surprise overtook Douli,”Him?! Just an arrogant sprig among ten-rung lasses? The war to come bears unshakable freedom from any levels’ restraint.”

“He is no simple one, Douli. Rumors reach me about his strong bonds with Zhao’s lineage; best steer clear lest trouble seeks you,”warning shot by sharp glance silenced Douli, who cringed reflexively.

Yet uncertainty clung in Douli’ throat,”Still… the rewards pledged at our Prize Standings by Li… do we not stand several stages higher than him? And further still, how come an envoy from Zhao? And how might Zhao gain such generous treatment at Li’s table…”

Indeed, Qian Ye held an ennobled position from Li’s roster of contracted warriors – his appointment to this exalted guest list stark given his mere rank ten battle prowess. Doubtless many, not solely Douli, bore resentment on that front. Yet none of those self-appointed free elites achieving their respective fame were foolhardy. The presence of a mysterious individual such as Qian Ye inevitably carried an air of dangerous entanglement best unprovoked unless there stood something at stake.

Moments passed before Lusha gruffly admitted,”In this strange age, nothing absolute reigns; yet should he persist and vie for *Mirror Waters Renewal*, that very act will seal his date upon the listless wind of his fate’s end.”

Amid encroaching dusk, strides unyielded and measured, yet ever watchful – Qian Ye’s senses marked watchers trailing subtly behind, all noted as he traversed into timber cover. Selecting this Mist Forest as battleground, initially seemed but a random choice; until now Li of the Revered Tang’s over-enthusiastic welcome stirred something else, an open door toward unknown machinations.

As war drew closer, the recent disarrayed forecast stemming from suspected Divining Influence affecting Zi-Ning Song had seeded uneasiness; it may well be best to divert turbulent tides to himself.

Now luring fish leaping unguardedly toward awaiting bait. Lusha’s trio with Douli and even Zhu Huan were but insignificant foam against vast war-torn horizons. Qian Ye’s vision remained riveted beyond them all – fixated instead upon the eternal stars veiled behind eternal shadows, awaiting those formidable sovereigns from the eternal abyss.

Forever seemingly unchanging is this Mist Forest realm. Should the battlefield raze kilometers round anew shortly finds resurgence under purplish mat. From the fallen, grand oaks reemerged with uncanny brevity; mere days sufficient unto regaining lofty perches over lush, vibrant canopy reaching toward heavens.

Even here, in this clearing beneath Qian Ye’s gaze, a green sapling sprouts up, breaking through from beneath the mat’s viscous sheath — an emerging young stalk.

Across the terrain extending outward, within a hundred meter circumference or so pulsing, undulating substrata stirred with fluidic cadences.

He crouched close enough placing bare hands against ground surface; sending forth his senses. Beneath, vibrant essence flowed, a liquid brimming with primordial energies flowing inwards toward the growing form.

Before his eyes witnessed the marvel: the young shoots of new birth rising ever faster—within minutes, reaching heights rivaling meters. With such momentum, surely, within mere days the monolith oak of ages shall arise once anew, wiping traces from war from earth like tears dissolving into sky.

Maintaining complete suppression of breath and life essence, retreating entirely into a dormant pulse of his true blood flow’s concealment. From within this state alone might the Mist Forest acknowledge its visitor’s stillness sufficiently and grant visions beyond mortal perception: right there beneath his very eyes lay the grand spectacle of life renewing anew amidst eternal shadows cloaking secrets not meant for prying human thoughts.

Yet when his thoughts meandered further experiments testing unseen thresholds, releasing subtle hints to his very presence. An anomaly erupted.

The ascending growth faltered into stagnancy—however undaunted the undercurrent’s ceaseless gushing continued. Pressure swelled rapidly in a great mound overtaking the struggling sprout, pulling it back into hidden abysses within mat’s embrace.

No stranger to the impossible – such an unfolding defied even Qian Ye’s extensive expectations. Thinking himself intimately acquainted within every fold of mist-veiled mysteries, this surreal act bore unexpected revelation. As ancient colossal spirits faded into distant echoes – perhaps hidden still linger deeper layers of unfathomables embedded across both land and sky. Caution was a necessity as air to the living.

His mind yet reeled under such thoughts when a chill traced the length of his spine—immediately evading laterally in swift evulsion, landing over ten meter distance amidst a blur.

In his former position, the echo of thrummed projectiles announced their arrival—multiple hurled spears skewering earth as though it were mere silk.

A little ways off—over a distance of over hundred paces—an entire host—several score of diminutive creatures bellowed in wild charge while unloading yet more thrown blades in rapid volleys.

While individually unimposing foes these strange miniature beings seemed not to be of high import, yet this unbridled eruption warranted alarm.

Suddenly comprehension seized him—he gazed skyward to those trees beyond thousand steps away where tremors betrayed the rustlings among treetops’ embrace—the birthplace of hundreds of these beings as more and even stranger creations spilled in a cascading torrent downward to swarm in this singular direction with singular intent.

At that point decision emerged crystal-clear: retreat.

The forest canopy swallowed retreating figure cloaked under stealthy techniques; behind a torrent of savage foes pursued a trail growing cold each moment the pursued continued fleeing.

At long last the exodus led him over ten km away, before his pursuers—utterly losing his scent—reluctantly withdrew after wandering this and that direction aimlessly in final resignation.

Once the area cleared, Qian Ye finally exhaled relief while cautiously approached a tree of titanic dimensions. Vigilance upheld while inspecting every inch for unseen threat before eventually hoisting himself up to the nearest branch to recline into momentary rest. Maintaining constant blood secrecy required during such arduous running consumed nearly the same as prolonged combat at arms.

Extracting a needle—injection poised within palm of outstretched gloved fingers—he applied its contents directly unto exposed patch of arm’s flesh—an elite stimulant dose, calibrated strictly for standard military issue, a formula designed specifically to reignite original force vitality.

For most standard-issue warriors, its properties restored up to tenth one’s spent essence. Alas for Qian Ye—his energies so dense that they crystalized into miniature nuclei forming in his original vortex—a level where personal force equaled fivefold that of others of his grade. The injection barely accounted for paltry few percentage points’ worth.

A cache contained a higher-caliber enhancement vial within the subdimension belonging to “Andouya” (his mysterious cache gifted by the Li’s bounty—stronger by twice the base potency of lesser syringes with twice the recharging speed to match—but the composite enhancement came at an equivalent multiplication of sixteen times the cost.

Albeit potent—such stimulatory agents remained at the end of the day a minor stop-gap; the difference merely a hairsbreadth compared against self-technique reclamation methods. In these cursed depths of Mist Labyrinth—an unsuitable location for serious meditation, one that invited peril to the distracted, where true cultivation became too great of a hazard to risk openly pursuing.

Should original energies remain beyond refinement’s grasp—for now, Qian Ye had only one alternative—blood energies.

After enduring the siege at Baisuo Fortress and the countless carnages thereabout, though no intentional drawing of siphoning actions upon corpses, the sheer mass of life-force drawn within those oceans thick with death still amassed significantly unto self, an inheritance from blood-imbibed carnage—perhaps a harbinger of an ancient truth: Only amidst carnage and conquest could those in eternal shadows elevate to heights unheard of in realms bathed permanently under twilight.

Purify these essence, integrating them fully, his Golden-Blooded Heritage coursing through each vein and sinew—elevating Qian Ye unto nobler rank, to be recognized within the ancient standard as none other than Count Rank One—a distinction among blood-dreamed aristocracy past and present.

Yet the peril of such action remained: the ancient pages penned from Sung’s lineage, its wisdom clear from opening sentence on harmony — the necessity to preserve the dualistic equilibrium between Dark Forces within him and Dawnly Luminescence without disruption. Translated to physical consequences—the cost for letting forces of either extreme spiral unbounded—would culminate in an unbridged disunion threatening stability—perhaps even life.

Approaching the brink of that Count tier, his vital force on brink’s precipice, yet his dawn-aligned essence lingered at the initial stages—a yawning chasm between two warring domains—imbalance manifesting increasingly tangible effects.

He’d been noticing recently, subtle shifts—his temperament darkened—fitful unrest creeps into the crevices of quiet thought like the fathomless hunger stirring beasts slumber, awakening only by violent release and the fleeting intoxication thereafter—a dire warning whose meaning was unmistakable.

Understandable nonetheless: Since cultivation’s earliest steps, each advancement brought him capacities dwarfing those typical to others. As his power grew with every ascending threshold, so did the demand it commanded. From battles incessant to relentless combat without pause or breath, even his acquisition of *Dance Divine Combat Manual* offered little chance for reprieve let alone focused cultivation required in Dawn-aligned essence refinement.

Conversely, no quick path towards essence siphoning awaited him within the realm of light, dependent strictly upon inner techniques and external enhancers.

Combined together – it was natural his current predicament emerged.

Perhaps an even darker truth plagued Qian Ye’s mind more acutely than a mere disjunction between dual-originating forces threatening body integrity: since accessing inherited fragments via ancient knowledge through blood stream—glimpses into true hereditary potentials—awoke a terrible recognition, the words spoken by ancient King Antoyeh of darkness whispered long ago into his ears may truly bear fruition.

Whether it had to transpire that a golden-black force ran in his blood for specific design or merely coincidence was undetermined. The facts alone were sufficient proof—he had unwittingly marched steadily along that fated trajectory King Andoyah insinuated that night years ago when their paths crossed within shadows.

Power from this dark-gold flow surged, pure enough surpassing in might the primal lineage of the nightborn’s Nai-Ton; progressing ever further towards primordial origin’s awakened inheritance—such an evolution may lead to absorption transmutation, ultimately submergence. Human origins swallowed by ancestral tide until final rebirth into something… truly… vampiric by design.