catvi

Chapter 125 - A Full Circle

Added 2024-05-17 17:40:06 +0000 UTC

By the time Yung reached the entrance to the Dim Gold Citadel, Lord Thunderboom was hauling almost seventeen carts of various sizes filled with bandaged evildoers. As the mule-like chaosfiend tapped on its hooves on the cobblestone road one step at a time, sounds of groans and moans rose from behind the carts. Many of the 'mummies' had regained consciousness. The magical healing bandages of the Su Fox Clan refused to let them die. So they lived, to suffer.

"…why…"

"What have… I done wrong."

"Lord!"

They cried, but most did not have the strength to voice their anguish into words. Throats charred, cultivation crippled. All they could do was shift around on the cart, sandwiched between others who had been hit by heavenly lightning.

By now, word of Yung’s train of carts had spread throughout the whole city. The Youjin guards were mobilized by the clan in full force. They did all they could to keep Lord Thunderboom’s path unimpeded.

They kept the populace at bay. But none dared to use their usual arrogance and lethal force.

All were afraid. Of the heavens. And of the caravan of carts, wondering if they would soon join the ranks of the mummified sinners too.

Most guards were cultivators. They had, until now, enjoyed a life of untouchable status.

Dim Gold City had a population of nearly a million. How many of them could cultivate? And how many among those cultivators could enforce the law?

The guards could. They were the uncrowned kings of the streets.

Then there were the gangs, just below them. Most gang members rose up from commoner backgrounds, many were thieves and beggars.

They traded blood for money, lives for spirit stones.

Before they could cultivate, they were nothing but dirt beneath the noble clan’s shoes.

After they learned the esoteric arts of qi, only then did they start to live like civilised ren.

Drugs, women, treasures.

If they could not have it, they would take it.

Most weren’t moral. Those who were still had their hands bloody.

There were also the fiend hunters. They roamed the wilderness between civilisations, hunting fiends and searching for treasures.

For many of them, Dim Gold City was just a stop to rest. For many others, it was their home base.

Every fiend hunter has seen blood. Of men and monsters. They have clawed their ways out of fiendish guts and venomous flora.

Rough men and women who lived and died by the sword.

Many had multiple other occupations. Such as adventurers, mercenaries, couriers, and gangsters.

Above all of them lived the noble clans. In Dim Gold City, there were the Youjin and Zheng Clans. Before, there was the Baishui too.

Yet regardless of status, in front of heavenly tribulations, it was as if everyone was but a mortal.

Even the leader of the nobles of Dim Gold City, Patriarch Youjin Liu.

He stood in front of the citadel gates.

In front of which, there were forty-seven mats with forty-seven former cultivators.

The crowd went utterly silent.

“That’s Youjin Ze, a Foundation Building cultivator!” One shocked farmhand said.

“Youjin Minglan, the daughter of another elder and Youjin Fuqiang’s grandniece. She was the third Youjin heiress!”

Celebrities of the city. A face each resident of the city knew by heart. They had been terrorised by them for many years.

Many generations.

But the tyrants now lay broken. Terrorised in turn by the tyrant in the sky. For sins they had always thought of as their ancestral right.

To consume. To devour. To oppress.

Cultivation. It was a cruel process. Left alone, most could meditate on their True qi and practice their arts. Yet to progress with any discernible speed, an average cultivator would need resources.

Resources were not infinite. Even if the fiends seemed infinite in number, access to resources that were actually harvestable, without claiming lives left and right, was limited.

They were controlled by the strong, but the strong never liked sharing.

How long did it take for Youjin Ze to reach his heights?

How bright a future did Youjin Minglan have?

Yung sighed. He passed a roll of bandage off to Youjin Liu. The good patriarch had a slight smile on his face. He looked unworried.

Yung had always gathered that being the Patriarch of the clan was more of a hassle to the man, even though he tried to be fair to his kin.

Did he not care for the loss to their clan?

“In the end, the heavens took care of the previous patriarch’s faction. You have one less headache.” Yung said.

“Send the Su Princess my heartfelt thanks.” Youjin Liu said.

Of course, not all that were hit by lightning were part of the previous patriarch’s faction. After Youjin Fuqiang’s collusion with the cults had come to light, many had switched sides and started supporting the current patriarch.

Many of them were spared from the lightning, only some weren’t.

So being opposed to Youjin Liu wasn’t one of the taboo criteria of the Enclave it seemed.

Heck, the vast majority of the cultivators had been unaffected. And cultivators numbered around two to three heads in every hundred.

That meant around ten to fifteen thousand cultivators. The total number hit by the tribulations numbered around three hundred.

Yung was sure that far more than that number had blood on their hands. But not everyone got the stick.

In the end, I don’t know what laws there are. Yung thought. He wondered if Nanya might know. Just what is the Planar Consciousness in the first place? So many unknowns. And the tribulations… they almost perfectly traced the Celestial Links.

Too many questions. But for now, Yung would be satisfied with what he had accomplished.

The Youjin Clan obediently handed over their kin.

Behind the patriarch, Youjin Chun had a pale, trembling face. Her eyes were glossed over, and her red lips stood out like blood on chalk.

Youjin Hong, Youjin Ze’s son, was also collapsed on his knees. He stood with a group of many children and women.

None of them could have foreseen such a day.

The Youjin Clan was not cruel to its kin. Even apparently cast out—being a supposed cultist mastermind notwithstanding—Youjin Bao and Ziyou Yung had their livelihood.

The likes of Youjin Hong would probably still receive due nurturance.

But that was night and day compared to the status and authority they would have if Youjin Ze, a 2nd realmer Clan Elder, were to still have his cultivation.

Their fates had most certainly turned for the worse.

Youjin Hong looked up. He stared at the heavens, his eyes red as if they had been painted with blood. The boy looked at Yung, a mere madlander commanding a throng of minions to sack his father in public.

Yung read the Empathic Link. He frowned. He had expected rage and hatred.

But what he got was fear.

I see, Yung thought. Some are like Chao. What fails to kill them makes them stronger. And some… Break. Most do I guess.

“The heavens as witness! Youjin Minglan has whipped my daughter, who was a handmaiden to her, to death after the poor lass had spilled tea. It was just tea! Tea! Why did she have to die for merely tea!”

“The heavens as witness! My father gave his life for the Youjin Clan in battle against water bandits. We were owed honour and gratuity! But he framed my father as a thief. We never saw a single copper of the coins my father bled for. Died for!”

“The heavens as witness!”

Yung held a court. And people stood up. A resentful father. A ghost of a son.

They spoke their hearts out. They cried to the heavens as if it had finally delivered a long awaited due.

After all the sins had been uttered, and Yung had collected the charred moribund, the train of carts now nineteen long headed for the Upper Town West.

They added three more carts.

In Upper Town East, they added four more. The Zheng Clan were not as benevolent as they pretended to be.

By now, the whole town was ablaze in torches.

No one was afraid of the heavens anymore.

No, that’s wrong. Yung read the myriads of Empathic Links coming his way. He saw the faces. Heard the whispers.

The cultivators were afraid.

The mortals were not. At least, they weren’t purely fearful.

The base terror still existed, but mixed in were feelings of gratitude and relief.

Of hope.

The caravan reached back to the penitentiary. A full circle.

They had started as the evening was ending. After the Enclave had appeared, and they had repelled the cat, and Yung had made his way here from Wang Gangbao’s restaurant.

Now it was far past midnight.

On the mortal plane, the blazing torches of the sea of people that crowded the border between Upper Town East and White Town lit up the darkness so brightly that the stars above could no longer be seen.

Yet the aurora was still there. It had faded. As had the streaks of starlight falling down like rays of concentrated crystals.

The Enclave was settling down. The heavens had no more wrath to give.

<Yung: In the end, even after hearing about all the sins they committed, I don’t really have a clear idea of what laws this place might have. From trafficking to

rape to taking bribes and cannibalism. Is the Enclave going to be so trigger-happy going forward? Won’t that make the city unlivable?>

<Yung: That matters?>

Yung understood. Or he thought so.

<Yung: It’s like every person in a Sanctified Enclave has a… buffer. A value. A… Social Credit Ranking. When it falls below a certain range, they are punished. Specific actions make this Social Credit fall more, and other actions might make it rise? What happens when it rises?>

She referred to the Young Jailer.

<Yung: Conduit between what?>

Su Haochen raised a finger. He pointed at the sky, then at the crowd, then at Yung, and finally at the young jailer.

Yung thought he got it.

Yung didn’t know why, but his 21st-century western mind screamed in anguish.

First powers to read emotions.

Then to control emotions as if he was brainwashing people.

Now a Social Credit system.

He was through and through a creep. No shits given about anyone's privacy. The ultimate big brother.

NSA would be proud! CCP would be proud!

Yung shook his head to drive those thoughts away.

<Yung: Let’s call them Social Credits. It's more intuitive for me.>

Yung had no reason to refuse.

<Yung: But let’s get back to his awakening. How did the totemized flag end up being a conduit between me, the… planar consciousness, this crowd of, I suppose, worshippers, and the Young Jailer?>

It was something Yung had to know. He had ideas he would like to try. Perhaps ways to close the vast rift between cultivators and mortals. To enable upward social and qi mobility so to speak.

It might also give him a clue with the uncontrollable cultivation breakthroughs he had been suffering. His foundation was so shaky that Yung was starting to think that it was impossible to ‘fix’ it in the traditional way.

Using the Young Jailer’s case as a study.

It would benefit Yung too, as he needed to find an alternative path to power.

And all this recently acquired knowledge about Altars, Land Gods, and now Sanctified Enclaves are pointing him at a direction.

Which direction, he needed to decide.

<Yung: I guess awakening is one of these boons? But if it’s a boon, someone needs to grant it. That totem is mine, but I don’t remember doing anything to grant anyone a—unless it’s like a miracle that automatically activates?>

Su Haochen nodded. He patted Lord Thunderboom’s rear like a salesman slapping a wagon. The mule screeched, showing all its teeth and gum as beast spittle flew.

<Undaunted Darkness: You have an evil ring that eats part of the worship sent your way. You subconsciously reject taking in more worship, and recently, you have been actively looking into ways to curb your Heart qi growth. You sleep talk about ideal worlds where everyone is equal. Kid, Heart qi is the qi of emotion, of the heart. It may react to the emotions of your worshippers, even originate from them, but the person whose emotions have the most profound

impact on Heart qi is the practitioner themselves.>

For the third time, Yung thought he understood but he was pretty confused about the whole matter.

Yung coughed, and raised a palm.

Azure gusts galed through the whole city. Above the penitentiary, a huge crystal screen appeared, looking like a mirror without a frame. It contoured the space there as though cast by rays of light from the mortal earth.

It was the same Light Transmission Token, an Unfolding Heaven Realm artefact, that was used during the sect recruitments. The show the whole city the grandeur of the sects, but above all, the Su Princess.

Today, whilst the Azure winds will carry the voice of judgement all across the city, the screen in the sky would reflect the scene to everyone's eyes.