Destiny in Cinders

An Jing was naturally suspicious of the mysterious voice. Even though the voice had helped him, what if it had ulterior motives? Yet under the current circumstances, he didn't have the luxury of doubt. He was standing at a critical crossroads, forced to decide between trusting the mysterious voice or submitting to the demonic cult. The decision was clearly an easy one.

"Hmm... it seems you're well informed." The mysterious voice paused upon hearing An Jing's candid words, then continued, "How can you be so calm when you know you've been discovered? This can't simply be explained by having the Spark."

"He hopes that I'll go." An Jing remained composed, even after the mysterious voice had seen through him.

"He's given me enough hints, and he's made no attempt to conceal the Heavenly Demon Cult's identity when imparting the orthodox technique to me. In fact, they've been completely transparent about everything, the name aside. It's a test. Passing requires recognizing that the Imperial Sky part can extend to the Hundred Meridians Clearing Realm. To be outstanding, one must also recognize the Imperial Earth part. But ultimately, Direlife Manor, or more accurately, the demonic cult, is searching for a genius who can grasp the Heaven's Child Art.

"Do you think it's a coincidence they happened to move those bones right when I was waiting by the entrance? Is it another coincidence that the apothecaries were heading for the eastern farm plots with herbal concoctions right as I was leaving? Not at all... This is the final test, an evaluation of where I stand. The truth awaits me there."

"You're not surprised at all?" the mysterious voice said softly.

"I've had suspicions for a long time." Torn between amusement and exasperation, An Jing spoke with a trace of bitterness in his voice.

"Who would spend real money buying and then healing disaster victims from the northern frontier? Only those who need human lives. They inspected our skeletal frames and asked for our birth dates, and if the dates were a good fit, they were willing to save us and take us back. With insight from the Spark, I recognized their brainwashing methods and efforts to instill compliance, which naturally made me wary. And this feeling only intensified once they began feeding us strange beast flesh and herbal concoctions."

"That's fey flesh. Fey feast on intelligent creatures, and those who partake of their flesh will inherit their brutal nature." The mysterious voice listened calmly to An Jing's account, only interjecting to clarify a point.

"Fey flesh stimulates latent brutality and boosts physical potential, while the anhedonic balances this by countering fiend qi and enhancing spiritual resilience. Both components work in perfect synergy. The sole drawback is a subtle personality shift, but that's not a problem for them. You've noticed all this, so why didn't you suspect they were a demonic cult sooner?"[1]

"So it's just as I thought." An Jing nodded. He had just crossed the path linking the main building to the eastern farm plots. "There's something wrong with the riders and instructors; they're too cold hearted."

The rain lashed down. An Jing instinctively wiped his face before scaling the wall and slipping into a shed.

"And the reason I didn't suspect it sooner..." He paused, and when he finally continued, there was a bitter edge to his inner voice. “Perhaps it’s because they seem to treat us quite well, at least on the surface... to those of us still alive. They've been so good to me. Anyone else would have fallen victim to their brainwashing. But I still see why the demonic cult is called that."

He let out a ragged breath, his voice tinged with weariness and a hint of fear. "There are some truths I'd rather not know. But I must find out anyway."

Numerous sheds dotted the eastern farm plots, offering refuge from the rain. The sheds housed large, brown vats that almost completely took over the farmyard.

What are all these vats used for?

Regaining his composure, he looked around to find at least fifty vats, each sealed with a flat stone.

Are they collecting rainwater? But why cover them and put them inside? Do the herbs inside need to ferment?

Moving closer, An Jing detected a subtle but distinct odor. It was a strange medicinal smell that was both sweet yet fishy, almost exactly like the one he had previously encountered at the apothecary. He frowned, looking over one of the water vats. Upon closer inspection, he discovered a note on the top with a name and birth date written on it.

"Gu Jinghai, Ancient Rock, mixed arc, below average aptitude."

It was a name he recognized. An Jing immediately recalled the person attached to that name. It was a quiet young boy who preferred his solitude. An Jing recalled their conversation about his hometown. The boy deeply missed the riverbanks teeming with fish and the summer days he spent chasing dragonflies with his older brother. The snow calamity had destroyed everything, taking his brother and parents. And after being sold by his uncle, he found himself entirely alone in this new place.

The vat was large enough to fit a person. The realization sparked a sudden moment of clarity, and his hands trembled.

"It's impossible..."

Muttering to himself was foolish, and he knew it. He could have slipped into a detached state through the Imperial Sky Seethrough Nurturing Art and faced the grim reality with a chilling, calculated calm, but he didn't want to.

He understood perfectly. Running away now would mean an inevitable loss of something vital to himself. The boy who had faced the manor lord's repeated probing with perfect composure found himself shaking as he searched the vats, one by one.

"Zhan Feng, Giant Spirit, mixed arc, below average aptitude."

"Ye Xiuyuan, Orator, mixed arc, below average aptitude."

"Zhang Ying, Midmorn Wolf, mixed arc, average aptitude."

At last, he found their names.

"I've found you." He took a step forward and chuckled softly.

"You're all here..." Softly murmuring, he reached out and touched the vat in front of him. "So this is where you've been all this time."

His voice faded. The dark, rainy night enveloped An Jing in a long silence until lightning ripped the sky open, illuminating his pale face. An Jing shut his eyes, and when he opened them again, his gaze was dark and deep. He raised a hand, and a surge of energy pushed the cover aside. An average adult would have strained to move the heavy stone cover, but it was nothing for An Jing who had consumed fey flesh and was approaching the Aura Realm.

Inside the vat was a pale pink, viscous paste, faintly speckled with herbs. It gave off an astonishingly sweet yet fishy medicinal scent—the exact sickly, unsettling odor he remembered, potent enough to rattle the mind. What truly shocked him was the white bone emerging from the center of the medicinal paste. It was a surprisingly small skull. The fate of those children who were "eliminated" and never seen again was suddenly clear.

"Blood brew," the mysterious voice said coldly. "Harvesting those with dormant lifearcs as a tonic that nourishes the flesh and blood, fortifies the soul, and bestows unnatural longevity upon the user... The demonic cult must be purged!"

1. Anhedonic is a concoction that suppresses emotions. ☜