Crossing the bridge was the easy part. With the sheer lack of care that the bridge guard was showing to their duties, I barely even had to disguise my attempt to cross its silvered length, and I only had to hide out of view once, rolling forward to press myself against the guard-house’s front as the Inner Disciple lifted her mirror up to get a better angle under the guardhouse’s script-light. I held my breath as I stared up at the guard, who hummed slightly at herself in the mirror. She snapped the compact shut, looking out down the bridge for a moment as if considering something, drumming her fingers against the table before her. Then, with a sigh, she withdrew some manner of brushes and files and turned her attention to her nails instead, utterly oblivious to my presence.

  “Behold, your Sect’s finest,” Isabella muttered, standing over my crouched form as she aimed a look of disdain at the guard. “Is this really the most responsible cultivator they could get for the task?”

  Maybe not, if all of the trustworthy disciples had already been deployed to search for me, I reasoned as I slowly shifted below the Inner Disciple’s eyes, moving around the side of the guard house in a low crouch, leaving the would-be guard behind. Anyone that’s left now must just be for a skeleton crew, for appearance’s sake.

  “Giving you the perfect opening,” Isabella finished the thought, drumming her fingers thoughtfully against the shaft of her scythe. “Seems a hell of a lot easier to break into their Compound than I would’ve thought.”

  Some of it is complacency, but there is one last obstacle, I thought as I pulled away from the back wall of the guard house and stood to gaze up at the Main Compound’s walls, just a bare few metres in front of me. The reinforced wood beams stretched up into beautiful and deadly spikes that warned off any who would think to simply leap over; in contrast, and apparent irony, those same walls parted to make an arch right before me, inside which a pair of silvered gates stood open, as if inviting any and all to enter the misty world within.

  The last time I’d come here, it had been as an Outer Disciple, and I could remember still the sheer aura of the Compound’s accumulated history and qi weigh down on me, almost a sentient being in its own right; I had felt its judgement staring down at me, and it had only been my own pretense at being exactly the sort of harried junior that Inner Disciples loved to lord over that had seen me safely through the mists that hung unnaturally over the Compound.

  Now, I stood in nothing but work clothes, making no attempt at pretending to be anything other than an intruder. With a quiet breath, and one last look behind me at the empty bridge and the Sect beyond, I stepped forward between the open gates, and into the Compound beyond.

  Almost instantly, the mist froze in the air around me, the soft sound of a shrouded world rendered into something sharp and discordant. The very qi in the air began to shift, ready to pounce. You don’t belong here, it seemed to whisper.

  This time, I had no answer. I took another step forward, shoulders back and head forward, and readied myself.

  With my tacit admission of trespass, the Compound responded. It felt like the very Heavens crashed down upon my spirit, forceful in a way I hadn’t even known, not even from having my chest caved in and neck snapped by an Inner Disciple. I stumbled underneath the sheer force of the energy, gritting my teeth and pressing my lips tight together to prevent any sound from escaping as my head screamed in pain.

  “-an!”

  I felt my hands tighten enough for my nails to bite into my palms, I blinked away tears that the mist swallowed whole into itself, and for a moment I could barely see my own feet beneath me. Despite it all, those same feet continued to move, step by aching step. Before you challenge the Heavens, you must challenge the World, I said to myself, repeating it like a mantra, as I continued to walk forward, trying my best to raise my head once more. I felt the heat of the Phoenix Remedy that still bubbled in my blood rise up with each step, even as I tried to coax my qi forth to resist the Compound’s own pressure.

  It still didn’t feel like it was going to be enough. The Compound’s ire was well and truly roused now, and the mist felt like it was tearing at my very soul for daring to intrude upon its domain, my weak qi offering nothing more than a momentary shield against the storm that wanted to rip me to shreds. All I could do was just. Step. Forward.

  And from one second to the next, the Compound’s spirit simply moved onwards, grim satisfaction and acknowledgement of a job well done echoing in the air. The pressure faded even as the mist thinned, leaving me panting for breath, one hand braced against a knee, still standing. Barely.

  “Ryan?”

  I turned my head to the side, wincing slightly as the tense muscles in my neck struggled to relax, looking up at Isabella’s relieved expression at the corner of my vision. “Oh, thank the gods,” she blew out a breath, awkwardly adjusting the scythe in her left hand. “I wasn’t sure if that would work.”

  If what would work? I kept turning my head, revealing the rest of Isabella’s own body- and her right arm, stretched out to grab at my free hand, the slight warmth pushing back against the mist’s chill. I slowly glanced back up to the farm girl, my mouth opening and closing as I tried to find the right words. While I appreciate the emotional support-

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  “Idiot.” I bit back a hiss as the haft of the scythe bonked against my head. “It doesn’t exactly have eyes, so it’s relying on a spiritual sense. Since I’ve got a hold of you right now, you’re as good as dead to it.”

  I focused on her hand again, this time reaching for my own spiritual sense, doing my best to peer through the flickers of qi that hung suspended in the mist. But with a moment’s searching, I could see what I was looking for; where normally I’d be able to recognise my own energy pushing back against the world, I instead saw that some weave had been laid over me, trapping my own energies in. That shroud extended out over my form, but it all led back to Isabella’s own hand.

  I understand. I’m guessing this is… I shook our hands. Not really something we can stop?

  “Not unless you want to actually die.” Then she glared at me. “But maybe I should let it finish the job if you’re just going to walk into something like that again. What the hell were you thinking?”

  …I wasn’t. Sorry. I shook my head, looking back now to the Compound that laid before us, its cleanly manicured gardens and idle paths now brimming with more danger than I ever realised. It hadn’t given me much trouble last time. I guess those robes meant more than I thought.

  Despite that, I couldn’t bring myself to regret throwing the greys off the Seven Falls. It had been monumentally freeing, and I’d already known the censure I’d face from doing so; in the face of the strongest sign of the Sect’s displeasure, I couldn’t help but feel my own emotions firm on that. It was the right decision.

  “I can feel you rationalising in there. Come on, let’s get going before something with actual eyes comes around.” Isabella nudged me, before gesturing out with the scythe towards the Compound. “Knew it was too easy,” She muttered quietly under her breath,

  Very well. And with the Aspect of Death itself in tow, I moved deeper into the Compound. The first thing I noticed was just how empty it was; what had once been beautiful lawns that were filled with Inner Disciples socialising were now left untrodden, and I easily strode along the middle of the path, on which I could now see the masterful display of masonry which had previously been obscured by blue robes before.

  The only thing that remained the same from my previous visit were the aquatic inhabitants; my path led me right along one of the many small ponds, in which the koi from my previous visit had assembled. I shivered slightly as I felt the weight of their eyes upon me, trying to ignore how one licked its lips with a disturbingly razor-edged tongue.

  “They’re kinda cute,” Isabella said with a chuckle, looking out over the hungry monsters, pulling slightly at my hand to get a bit closer to the edge of the pond. “Do you think they’ll feed you to them? Or do you think trespassers just get incinerated on the spot?”

  Please don’t joke about that, I thought, walking a little bit faster. Those things scare me, and there’s enough to be terrified about here.

  Isabella shook her head with a chuckle, letting me drag her away from the carp who haven’t taken their beady eyes off me for a single second. “Fine, fine. So, the Script Wings?”

  I gratefully took the change of subject. They keep them in a big room that’s built into the cliff overlooking the Burial Fault, splitting one of the Falls in two. I don’t know which building actually leads into it, so we’re going to climb in from the outside. There’s a cliff-side path just below it though, so we should be able to climb up. I did my best not to sigh in relief as we turned a corner on one of the paths, a building cutting off the piercing gazes I had felt burning into my back from the fish. It shouldn’t be much further from here.

  Isabella began tapping her fingers against the back of my hand. “And you’re positive there’s nothing else that you think I should know about?”

  I nodded confidently, taking another corner down a set of stairs that led towards the path along the falls I’d taken last time. Positive. They clearly expected the Compound itself to do any heavy lifting when it came to preventing intrusion. And if there were anyone left in here, they’ll have to be a Core Disciple or Elder so deep in seclusion that they wouldn’t even know that there’s anything to worry about.

  “And you don’t think there’s anything you could be forgetting?”

  I glanced back at her in confusion. What’s there to forget?

  “You don’t think there’s any circumstance in which an Outer Disciple might be here?”

  The idea actually made me laugh a little bit, the sound bouncing up and down the stairs. They’d only come here if summoned or ordered, and I hardly think that the Sect has the time to step on some greys right now. What would the point even be?

  Balancing her scythe in the crook of her left arm, Isabella slowly rubbed her face. “It’s just an honest mistake,” she told herself. “Maybe the Heavens are working against us. What are the chances, right?”

  Huh?

  Giving me a tired glance, Isabella pointed back down the stairs. With a creeping sense of realisation crawling up my spine, I turned my head along.

  At the very bottom of the stairs sat a small courtyard with a central fountain, which served as an intersection for the cliff-side paths. I knew that further to the right was the path that would lead towards the Script Wings’ room, and I knew there were some other paths as well that meandered their way along the cliffs. It was, just like the rest of the Compound, perfectly spotless, just another one of the thousands of locations here that cried out the glory of the Sect.

  And the reason for the cleanliness stood at the centre of the courtyard where a grey-robed disciple looked up at me, a finely made broom and dustpan in his hand. Evidence of the disciple’s work was clear, a small pile of dust half-brushed up.

  It was utterly typical of the Sect to possess a set of cleaning tools that were undoubtedly worth more than my initial stipend.

  It was utterly typical of my luck that the one person who’d be here would be my neighbour from the Alley, who now stared at me with an open mouth, and the beginning flickers of anger in his eyes.