Soo's Jianghu — 15

Wolje Hall.

There was a reason, it turned out, that the place I had been summoned into was a cave sunk deep underground. Wolje Hall is set into the foot of the stone pillars that rise from the lakes to the east and south.

I went with the Heavenly Demon to the main hall, rode the lift down, and took a boat. From there we made for a pillar standing even farther out, and only then did we finally reach the place where they were. I had already known the way, of course, from Gu Seong-yong's memories and the Heavenly Demon's.

The moment I stood at the entrance, a guide attached himself to us. Following him, I looked around, and the air was different. Unlike the people of the Heavenly Demon Cult, who went about bare-faced in clothes steeped with their own tastes, most of the ones here wore plain garments that hid their faces. Not entirely the same clothes, though. The color of the knots changed from person to person, or the shape of the hat on their head. Rank, most likely, made easy to read at a glance. And every one of them carried two or more lights in the body.

What were they doing, stuffing themselves full of those things and living that way?

I was still taking the place in when we entered a room. Smoke lay thick and pale over the chamber. An opium den, was this? And at the center of the room sat a person with their face covered.

"Master of Wolje Hall."

"Well, now. Is this not the Heavenly Demon? To come all the way here with a thing like that. What business, pray, brings you?"

Not exactly a warm welcome. The voice was a man's. Even so, nothing guaranteed he was truly the hall master. Still, if I made him a harvester, I could take the information I needed.

"Hello. I've come to give myself to you."

With the Heavenly Demon at my side, I went straight to the point. If this man began to twist his words, I might not be able to win, and he might find some weakness of mine in whatever I said. Better to strike first.

"Aha. You mean to change me as you changed the Heavenly Demon? Even though that is no blessing."

At that, the man who called himself Master of Wolje Hall pointed out the danger of a harvester. His intent was plain. He was trying to plant suspicion in the Heavenly Demon. I had no thought of letting him go on talking. Even if he said nothing, once I made him a harvester his memories would be mine. I stepped forward.

Something clicked. A device, shifting.

Shhk.

The Heavenly Demon shot out a blade at once and cut the steel wire. To those eyes, the mechanism's movement had been obvious. The world seemed to have recovered to some degree, so even if my head were taken off I could probably grow it back once or twice — but a place once wounded can end up weaker than it was, and that called for care. I made it clear I had no interest in talking.

"This is a notice."

"My, my, Heavenly Demon. You mean to stand there and watch? This is no different from an invasion of our Wolje Hall. You have seen with your own eyes what comes of leaving this monster be, have you not?"

The words were urgent. The tone was not. If anything, it was closer to mockery: do what you must not, and the one who regrets it will be you.

"Do it. Master of Wolje."

The Heavenly Demon said it without a ripple. The hall master flinched, then at once dropped his voice.

"You will regret it."

"Since when does a hall master talk back to my orders?"

The Heavenly Demon, through and through. Did he truly mean to keep what he had said back then? At the command, the Master of Wolje Hall stared straight at him.

"Ten thousand years. Ten thousand years. Ten thousand upon ten thousand years."

That was all — short, and barbed with sarcasm — and then he walked up to me. I recited the contract.

The Master of Wolje Hall was silent for a long while. Then he answered, his voice heavy.

"Always the same words. Fine. We'll do it that way."

I seized the light inside his body and dyed it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with my color. I tried to. Something strange was stuck to it, and I could only dye half.

Ah. This. I knew it. When I first entered this body, a thing like this had been clinging to one of my eyes. Someone had contracted with this man before me, and that something was claiming ownership.

First I licked the light. The memories that came were about half of what I ought to have received. Only half — but half, all the same, and there was a great deal in it. Above all, I learned that although he held the post of Master of Wolje Hall, he was not the highest person in the hall.

"It's a double contract."

Through the faintly joined sense, I felt a victor's smile form on his face.

"A double contract?"

The Heavenly Demon asked it as if puzzled, so I answered.

"It means the one this man serves isn't the Heavenly Demon."

If it were only warmth, I could have taken it whenever I liked even through a connection this unfinished. I chose not to. Instead I said this.

"Bring the one you follow. In Sim-won."

"H-how do you know my name!"

For the first time he shouted, thrown clean off balance. Half a memory was enough to show me that this world treats names as precious and hides them whenever it can. No wonder he was startled that I knew. I pointed at him.

"A double contract doesn't mean there isn't a contract, does it?"

Give it a little time, and his light would dye all the way to black-purple. Along the light's edge, another being's touch was already being peeled away, bit by bit. Well. Whatever. Once I had the memories and the warmth, I could yield a thing like the light. Even if I meant to bargain that way, something refused to stir. Either it had to see me in person before it would speak, or it had no intention of letting go. In that case there was only one course. That one, too, was a thing to be made into a harvester.

As for the people in this room, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠they were likely to think a name was all I could learn. No need to hesitate over information that had already spread. This world prizes names, so I spoke as if I had already taken everything that mattered, and let ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠them misunderstand.

"Did you really think a contract made of nothing but words would be enough to slip past me? Come on. Bring them. Quickly."

I couldn't find out where that person was. I could tell, at least, whether it was the right one.

In Sim-won cried it out as if in a fit, and flung a bargain at the Heavenly Demon. I looked at the Heavenly Demon and pointed at the man.

"He's saying there's someone more important than the Heavenly Demon."

"That's how it sounds to me."

With that, the Heavenly Demon reached out. Black-purple energy sheeted over the surroundings.

Oh. This was me, yes — but something about it was different. The difference between meat and amino acids, maybe. I was the amino acids, and what hung in the air now was the meat. Not protein alone. Other things were mixed in. The Heavenly Demon used it to lift the man and close around his throat.

What did they call this? Force Grip?

The instant it happened, the faded memories shoved the word qi at me again and again, and taught me another: Empty-Air Grasp. No — isn't that the same thing? Aaaah. The faded memories came in like a storm. I'd been scraped, too. These memories.

While I was turning the old ones over, the Heavenly Demon questioned In Sim-won.

"I didn't know there was anyone in this Heavenly Demon Cult above me."

He gagged and clawed at his own throat, but it seemed qi was not a thing the hands could simply catch. Then one of the lights in his head moved, fast. It punched out through where his eye had been. An eel of a fish surged up through the cloth over his face.

In Sim-won only choked out groans thick with pain. Well, of course. The thing was rooting through his brain. And the movement was meant to kill. So I stepped in and seized the fish by the head.

"You fouuund me—"

I jammed my fingers into its gills. I had grabbed it mid-sentence, so it never managed to finish. There are so many of these. A voice that speaks while leaving its subordinate behind to do the dying. I had thought that was only something people did in stories. They actually do it? Nothing but an irritation.

"Come say it yourself. Rude."

The fish's substance stabbed at me. An attack, then? I tore out its throat while I took the creature's warmth. Warmth has to be collected. Hehe. At once, on a thick reek of fish, it died. The man collapsed to the floor, frothing blood.

He gurgled in pain, and slowly I felt a touch reaching to seize the light. The light could be taken. Here, though, the attempt annoyed me.

"In Sim-won. Pitiful human. If you want to live, deny the one you served, and say you will serve me."

I had learned something from handling contracts a few times. Words have more power than you would think. The contract verse itself shows it: recite it while thinking of me, and you are joined to me.

"Say that I am good. Say you will betray another for my sake."

I pressed him toward betrayal.

"Do that, and I'll let you live."

In truth it was less that I would save him, and closer to him coming back to life on his own. I took his hand and spoke gently.

"You only have to say one thing. Yes. Just one word."

I whispered it. To escape the greatest pain, a person will do anything. Belief or faith, it makes no difference. In a situation the body cannot endure, it thrashes for survival of its own accord — the way I thrash to obtain warmth. You have to do the same. Had his head been a little more intact, he might have chosen death. With his brain ruined like this, though?

I urged him again and again.

"Yes."

In the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠end, blood frothing at his mouth, he accepted. Hehe.

The hand that had been gripping his light was flung away, and I poured myself into the light until no pure-white part remained. I packed it full, tight, and filled in every incomplete memory. At the same moment his body cracked like porcelain and split his clothes. Blue skin showed between the fissures, and through the fragments of his head and the scraps of cloth, purple hair.

"Ah— ah— ahhh?"

He stared blankly down at his own fingers. The skin was a fresh, stark blue.

"Congratulations on the betrayal. Or should I put it this way?"

I stood before him and said it.

"You've apostatized."

The Stagnant Blood Esoteric Cult. He had believed not in the Heavenly Demon Cult, but in another religion.

In the faded memories, a man broods. A blood cult nested inside a demonic cult is tradition — but is the tradition even right? If a faith believes in immortals rather than gods, isn't that simply Taoism? Are terms like the Qi-Gathering Scripture and the Crystal Scripture nothing but Taoist words twisted out of shape, and not xianxia at all? Is this world even wuxia to begin with? I already knew it wasn't, so I don't know why the fretting continued. Even so.

I felt the memories skip and jolt as I pulled the torn cloth from the man's head. The one who had abandoned faith and chosen what was real looked up at me and at the Heavenly Demon, his face rigid with terror. I met his eyes and smiled.

"Congratulations."