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Patrick Laplante
Patrick Laplante

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PtM 18 - Chapter 7: Contingency

Three chapters this week. Enjoy ^^.

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A desolate wind swept across dry, parched plains. It was an infertile land. A colorless land. The only thing grew in its chalk white soil was a rugged, ash-gray variant of spirit grass, and not much of it.

Bestial demons roamed these lands in herds. Their fur and feathers were pale, as were the features of human-form guardians. Once, there would have been one or two guardians per herd, but now, there were dozens, each one with unique bloodline markings on their skins.

Who would have thought the Pale King would push his people to become Painted Demons given the origin of their power, thought Elder Ling. Is he not worried about infiltration? Is he not worried about treachery?

Elder Ling had never gotten a good look at the Demon Continent, and neither had his companions. He had many questions to ask, and so did they. Unfortunately, their guide, an elder of the Paper Tiger Clan, refused to answer them.

“Will it be much farther?” Elder Ling asked the elder. “I don’t remember needing to be so discreet in the past. We clashed many times, your king and I, but it was always out in the open, and never clandestine.”

Since his king’s honor was being questioned, the elder finally deigned to answer. “It is not for my king’s sake, but for the sake of avoiding unnecessary bloodshed,” said the elder. “The populace does not take kindly to the Inkwell Clan or their perceived minions, the Inkborn.”

Elder Ling sniffed. “You and I both know who was responsible for that.

The elder did not take the bait. “The truth is complicated, West Sea Guardian. You have yours, and I have my king’s. Whether or not you believe it is inconsequential. Now follow me. The next stretch needs to be crossed using the starry road.”

The Paper Tiger Clan elder knocked his clawed fist on a lone and seemingly insignificant tree. Its gnarled wood twisted to reveal a cleverly concealed doorframe. “A starry road,” exclaimed Clever Dusk. “So carefully concealed I couldn’t sense it.”

“Your people have caused many problems for my king in the past,” the elder said to Clever Dusk. “Precautions were taken. Against each of your five clans, might I add.”

“Meow!” said Mr. Mao Mao, jumping on Elder Ling’s shoulder. The elder shivered slightly but maintained his composure.

“While I can empathize with your point of view, esteemed saint, the fact that we acted first and provoked the will of the world’s rebellion does not change her eventual actions and the actions of her clansmen,” said the Paper Tiger Clan elder. “Now do the five of you have any pressing questions, or should we get on with the next leg of our journey? Time is short, and one of you doesn’t have much time left.” The individual he was referring to was the Inkwell Clanswoman in their group, Dark Moon.

“Let’s not waste time,” Elder Ling agreed. “We can walk and talk.” He passed through the open doorway without any hesitation, and Mr. Mao Mao and his other five companions followed.

The starry road they entered was different than those Elder Ling was used to. For one, all color had been stripped form the road. For another, so had the darkness in the sky and the light of the stars. The road was extremely brittle as a result, but it was also isolated from the will of the Inkwell Plane. Both Elder Ling and Dark Moon felt a weight lift off their chests when the door close and the Paper Tiger Clan elder continued leading them forward.

“Now where were we?” Elder Ling said. “We were talking about who did what and what led to the current situation. Let’s ignore the distant past and focus on current events. It’s no secret that your clan has been weakening the fabric of the inkwell plane for thousands of years.”

“The will of the world gained substantial influence form the breaking off of the sub-continents from the Central Inkwell Sea,” the paper tiger clan elder admitted. “But it was not us who triggered the splitting, as it were. We’d considered an early separation many centuries ago, but my king decided against it.”

“Then who did trigger it?” asked Elder Ling curiously. “The other four continents are convinced you did it.

“I’ll shoot that right back at you,” answered the Paper Tiger Clan elder. “What’s changed in the demon lands since your last visit.”

Elder Ling gasped. “You mean…”

“It was the Painted Demons who did it,” said the elder.

“So that’s why we’re sneaking into the Pale King’s palace like a bunch of cooks or musicians,” said Elder Ling. That explained a lot of recent events, and also came as a relief to Elder Ling. He’d considered allowing Painted Daoists and Demons into the Inky Sea Sect, but had ultimately voted against the motion, angering a great many people.

Elder Ling inspected their five inkborn companions as they walked. They were brave to have come along, especially Dark Moon, his stand-in for Silverfish. Shneraz had also stepped up where Serrendil hadn’t, despite the difficult state of the Clockwork Clan in Mendin.

Clever Dusk, on the other hand, had accepted his proposal almost instantly. With her in agreement, it had been easy to recruit Drezil and Graceful Twilight, and their adorable living statue.

His eyes lingered on the young Inkwell Clanswoman longer than the others to scan her body for anomalies. Her seal, reinforced by the Pale King, was holding up, and her bloodline was properly restrained. “If only such seals worked on half-breeds,” muttered Elder Ling. “The witch was bad enough before, but now she’s intolerable.”

He was speaking of course of his Dao Companion, whom he avoided like the plague. Fortunately, she was only a half member of the Inkwell Clan and had been able to resist the corrupt will of the world’s call to arms.

The Paper Tiger Clan Elder, whose name still escaped Elder Ling, continued leading the way down the broken segment of starry road. The elder’s specialty was void and travel, and wherever he stepped, white bricks popped up to fill gaps in the road’s deteriorating structure.

Was it Lord Void Traveller, or Lord White Brick?Elder Ling thought. Or maybe something like Devil’s Advance – now that’s a proper lordly title for a tiger. He recalled swatting him half to death once upon a time. Perhaps that was the reason why the elder was so tight-lipped.

Travel on the Starry Road was slow, despite Clever Dusk and the elder aiding them along the way. Elder Ling had a feeling travelling on land would be faster, but if an elder of the Pale Court was going to be so obstinate about taking the back route into his own backyard, he wasn’t going to argue with him.

“There,” said the elder, arriving at a bone-white gate. “Only those of my blood may open this door. Stand back as I unlock it.” He pricked his finger with a canine tooth and drew a drop of blood from his finger. The drop transformed into nine white keys that filled nine white key holes. The keys turned, and the door opened.

The void shimmered and shook as they passed through the portal and entered a large, dimly lit room, empty save a throne and two demons. The first demon was an old enemy, the Pale King. The second was younger and weaker but glowed with a light that invoked reverence in even a powerful desolate beast like Mr. Mao Mao.

The Pale King’s eyes were closed. As for the second demon, he was using the light that surrounded him to erase one of the many stripes on the Pale King’s body.

Elder Ling frowned at the sight. Why would he be weakening the pale king? The Pale King had worked hard to kill peak fusion realm Inkwell Clansmen and absorb their strength, and it was as known fact that he drew much of his power from slain demons.

No, that was then, and this is now, Elder Ling realized. The call of the Inkwell Clan affected all demons who bore the Inkwell Ancestor’s blood, including the Painted Demons. So it made sense to him that the bloodline’s he’d once absorbed would work to his detriment.

“If the whelp keeps it up for a few decades, you might even have a chance to ascend,” remarked Elder Ling. “Am I ever glad we’re on the same side now.”

The Pale King cracked an eyelid. “I would never underestimate your strength, West Sea. As for the treatment, it has diminished my strength.”

“But it’s improved your foundation, clearly,” said Elder Ling.

“I gave up on any hopes of ascension millennia ago,” said the Pale King. “Baleful Vision, stand to the side as we converse. I want you keeping far away from that man and his cat, in case he’s gone senile.”

“You’re ten times older than I am!” exclaimed Elder Ling.

“But demons age slower than you humans,” said the Paler King. “Only those few geniuses like Baleful Vision are able to grow so quickly.”

“So that’s where I remember him from,” Elder Ling said, snapping his fingers. “He’s one of the geniuses that took off to the Heartforge Realm. Did you decide to entrust this old chunk of land to him like Old Crimson Lotus and Old Crystal?”

“There is no better successor I can chose,” said the Pale King. “Not because of his character or his strength, but because he’s one of the few on the plane that I can be sure isn’t influenced by the enemy.” The Pale King leaned forward on his imposing throne. “I count one, two, three, four, and five. Four Inkborn and one member of the Inkwell Clan. Two are brave, and two are cowards, and the last of them is half a traitor. Is this really the best you could come up with, West Sea?”

“These inkborn were blessed with the largest will fragments,” Elder Ling explained. “There were others that I could have chosen, but in the end, I chose to go with them.” Serrendil refused, and Silverfish I couldn’t find. “Now what’s all this about the Painted Demons being traitors? From what I was told, they were promised free will.”

The Pale King smiled self-deprecatingly. “It was a trap, it turns out. Free will exists, but bloodline suppression is still a thing. It just wasn’t noticed in the beginning because the will of the world kept quiet, and humans – the Painted Daoists and the Painted Demigods, that is – were unaffected.”

“But suppression can only go so far,” said Elder Ling. “Right Mr. Mao Mao?”

“With all due respect, Daoist West Sea, an Adamantine Hellcat is hardly a good example,” said Baleful Vision. “A better comparison would be how other demons treat him. Are they not fearful? Are they not cowardly and agreeable in his presence?”

“I see your point,” muttered Elder Ling. Mr. Mao Mao had a bit of a reputation as a bully.

“Free choice is a relative term,” continued Baleful Vision. “Even humans willingly give up their freedom to please greater powers, forget demons, who are shackled by their original bloodlines.”

“It is for this reason that we snuck you into my palace,” said the Pale King. “The enemy knows far more than she lets on. I was hoping you’d realize this earlier and come to me decades ago, but it is better late than never, I suppose.” He held out a clawed hand. “Give me the key, and I will add my bloodline to it. Then, I will strengthen the seals on these individuals. Finally, I will lead my brethren into battle, as per the ancient covenant between our peoples.”

Elder Ling sighed. “If only it were so easy. The key… I may have lost it.”

“You what?!” the Pale King exclaimed. “After all the trouble Dao Lord Blackwater went to protect the key, you lost it?”

“To be fair, I wasn’t sure if I’d survive to use it,” Elder Ling snapped. “Since Dao Lord Blackwater is no longer around, I think I made the right call.”

The Pale King massaged his brow. “Is it safe?”

“Extremely safe, and in very capable hands,” said Elder Ling. “Should things fall through on my end, it will be up to its bearer to find another way.”

The Pale King’s clawed hands tightened around the Pale Throne’s stone armrests. “So the reason you’ve come…”

“Is still to fulfill the ancient pact,” said Elder Ling. “But first, we’ll need you to forge a new key.”

The Pale King laughed. “You want me to copy something created by the will of five monarchs? You’re insane. Peak transcendent items I can do, but immortal-level items? Not a chance. And even if I could imitate such an item, the imitation would be imperfect, as the will of this world would prevent me from exceeding the limits of this realm.”

“I don’t want a fully functional key,” said Elder Ling. “Just make me a prototype. A vessel of sorts. Leave the wills of the five monarchs to me.”

The Pale King stared at him long and hard. “Crafting a replacement key is not impossible, assuming one is willing to sacrifice.” He pointed to Clever Dusk and the other four. “These five. I require half their blood and half their lifespans.

Elder Ling hesitated at the mention of lifespan and blood. They were already risking their lives coming here. “I am willing,” said Clever Dusk without any hesitation. “If it relates to sealing the enemy responsible for the decay of our world, I will give myself up without any hesitation.”

Drezil and Graceful Twilight exchanged a look before stepping forward. “We’ve left our legacy in stone and flame. We are willing to do whatever it takes.”

“Well, I’m not about to ruin this for everyone,” said Shneraz. “My aunt would kill me.” As for Darkmoon, she did not answer. She glared murderously at the Pale King, who’d slain so many of her kinsmen it had formed an indelible grudge in her bloodline.

Elder Ling placed a calming hand on Dark Moon’s shoulder. “I’m going to need you to calm down, Dark Moon. I know it’s not ideal working with your nemesis, but you should know by now that it’s the only way to save your people.”

Dark Moon trembled. “Will this really save my clansmen?”

“It will save some of your clansmen,” said Elder Ling. “Unfortunately, many of them are too far gone.”

“Fine,” Dark Moon decided. “I’ll do it. I have no choice.”

“There is always a choice,” said Elder Ling.

“For them, perhaps,” said Darkmoon, looking towards the other four. “Whether it’s these shackles on my wrists or the shackles in my blood, I’m a prisoner either way.”

“Then it’s settled,” said the Pale King. “I can help if they are willing to pay the price. But are you willing to pay the price, West Sea?”

Elder Ling’s eyes narrowed. “What do you want?”

“Oh, nothing much,” said the Pale King. “Just a Shard for my troubles.”

“What use would a quintessence shard be to you?” asked Elder Ling. “Aren’t you trying to rid yourself of the Inkwell Bloodline?”

“It would be better if you didn’t know,” the Pale King said. “We’ve reached the end game, West Sea. Why keep anything in reserve when we’re all dead if we fail?”

Elder Ling ran over his plan one more time before ultimately nodding. “Fine,” he said, throwing out an inky black crystal. “Worst case, we all die. I no longer have the luxury to look out for backstabbing or treachery.”

The Pale King inspected the crystal in his hands. He did not absorb it right away but kept it in his storage ring. “Believe it or not, I need that crystal to execute one of my backup plans. Our enemy has grown too powerful, and my bloodline’s influence is weak.”

“It’s better to pass it on to someone who needs it,” said Elder Ling. “Then we’re in agreement?”

“We’re in agreement,” said the Pale King. “Baleful Vision, summon the elders. We’ll need to assemble a full crafting circle to have a chance at succeeding.”

“A full circle?” asked Baleful Vision doubtfully. “It’s just a peak fusion artifact, isn’t it? You don’t need a full contingent of elders for that.”

“Just do as I tell you,” the Pale King snapped.

“Come along now, young prince,” said the Paper Tiger Clan Elder. “You take the left half of the chamber, and I’ll take the right half.”

Elder Ling frowned as Baleful Vision and the elder left. “Special materials, I can understand, but a full contingent of saintly demons?”

The Pale King shrugged. “It’s an excuse to gather them all in one place. Since we’re going down this road, there’s no turning back.”

“So you’re going to purge the spies and consolidate your kingdom from within,” said Elder Ling. “A classical tactic. A brutal tactic.”

“A tactic Baleful Vision isn’t prepared to carry out,” said the Pale King. “So I will do him a favor and do it for him.

Elder Ling nodded. “Mr. Mao Mao, why don’t you take the children somewhere else for the next hour?”

“Miao!” shouted Mr. Mao Mao. He jumped beneath the five and increased his stature, sweeping him off the ground. Soon, only Elder Ling and the Pale King remained.

“So what will it be?” asked Elder Ling. “A bait and switch? A fake fight?”

The Pale King shook his head. “We’ll be up front about it. Make it an execution. Baleful Vision might not be willing, but he needs to learn. And there’s no better way to do so than bloodshed.”

Comments

Thank you for the chapter!

Quincy Walker


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