It stayed on his mind as he continued walking. Those willows were native to Sunshower City and didn’t exist anywhere else. But there’d been one just outside their quarters at Sky-Ascending Peak, the one that’d eventually turned into the Willows of Resentment Array. It was clearly different from the ones that grew inside their courtyard and around the rest of the grounds too; Ricky was no expert botanist like the Dewspring Estate cultivators, but even he could tell some species of plants apart. If the seed that sprouted the willow tree could only be found in Sunshower City, then…
Ricky stopped walking. What was he even thinking? That Gyuvin had carried those seeds with him and planted the array? That everything the Coalition accused him of was true?
Of course not. But it did mean one of two things; either that the actual perpetrator, the one who’d framed Gyuvin for everything he did, had to have some connection to Sunshower City to even know about those special willows, or that he had been so hellbent on making Gyuvin take the fall that he’d found a way to make the evidence pinning him down absolutely infallible.
The second option seemed…unlikely. Gyuvin wasn’t the kind of person who made enemies. Apart from people like Han Seungho and Kwan Hyunjae who hated him for their own personal reasons, Gyuvin just…wasn’t the kind of person that people hated. Not to the extent that they’d go to the ends of the earth to plot his demise, at the very least.
Part of him knew deep down that continuing down this fruitless path would be just that, fruitless. Gyuvin was already dead. The Judgment Panel had convicted him, and the Coalition would not reopen the investigation on a closed case. Ricky was just one person, albeit from a reputable sect. In the grand scheme of things, the chances he was going to make any tangible difference were low.
But how could he just sit back and let whoever caused this entire mess run free? It was like looking an opponent in the face and saying You win, I concede. And even though he’d grown up learning that there was value in a strategic concession, this just felt different; if he gave up now, that would be the end. Gyuvin would have died for nothing, and the world would never know that he wasn’t the monster the Coalition seemed determined to make him out to be.
There it was again, that feeling of helplessness that was always creeping slowly up his throat when he wasn’t paying attention, a constant reminder that in the vast world, he was powerless. The influence of his sect’s reputation could only get him so far, but it would never be far enough.
He tried not to think about it anymore. In the weeks that followed, he worked quietly, continuing to observe the barrier which was gradually deteriorating day by day, scouring his way through the books in the Aperture Library, even taking the liberty to send a long-distance communication spell back to Moonrise Palace to request for some relevant books and scrolls to be sent over to Meteor Court, but even then nothing much jumped out at him. Kim Jaeyoung’s feat with the Sunshower City barrier was simply one of a kind, never before seen in the cultivation world. But he’d managed to do it somehow, and without much help from anyone else, which meant that it was not impossible; there had to be a way to do it. All that was left was for that way to be discovered.
But they were running out of time. Meteor Court had cultivators patrolling the borders constantly now, but manpower was wearing thin, and there wasn’t much time left before the entire barrier would eventually collapse. Ricky estimated there was no more than four months left. Minwoo never placed any overt pressure on him, but Ricky could tell it stressed him out, and he too wanted to be able to complete the job like he’d been sent here to do.
The resounding crash of a faraway gong shook the floors of the Eclipse one afternoon, as Ricky sat quietly in a corner having his midday meal. It was so loud it had startled him; he’d never heard it before, but as he looked around in mild confusion, the other golden-robed cultivators stood, abandoning their trays of food and heading for the doors without hesitation.
“What’s going on?” he asked, standing along with everyone else.
“It’s a distress signal,” someone answered, gesturing for him to follow. “Everyone to assemble at the Astral Courtyard. Something’s happened.”
A distress signal?
As he followed the other people out of the Eclipse and into the Astral Courtyard, he saw droves of people emerging from corridors, burrowing out like termites from woodwork. He didn’t think he’d ever seen that many Meteor Court cultivators together all at once, but they were all here now, organized neatly into groups by what seemed like age; the youngest ones all the way at the end of the Courtyard, the oldest at the other. Ricky stood off to the back, joining in where it seemed like the cultivators were about his age, waiting to see what instructions were about to be given.
“Cultivators of the Court, the distress signal has been sounded. The Court will be entering lockdown shortly. Please await further instructions.”
That was Minwoo’s voice, resounding and reassuring, though Ricky couldn’t see him through the sheer number of people gathered in the Courtyard. Lockdown? What was going on? Fierce whispers spread like wildfire all around him. Ricky stood quietly and listened.
“Disciples below the age of fifteen and above the age of sixty-five are to head for the Catacombs immediately. Follow the instructions of the leaders, please”
The group of children and young teenagers began to peel away from the crowd immediately, disappearing down a corridor like water draining away. “The Catacombs?” Ricky asked quietly, looking to the person standing next to him.
“It’s an area built into the bedrock behind the Court. The cultivators use it to meditate sometimes because it’s energy-rich and quiet, but the children and elderly are being sent there because it’s heavily warded. For protection.”
Children and elderly being sent away for protection. Whatever was happening, something was gravely, gravely wrong.
“Please speculate no more about what has happened. Do not create unnecessary panic.” Minwoo’s voice sounded again just then, and the crowd of disciples fell silent. “A high-level demonic entity has surfaced near the outskirts of Verdant City. It is estimated to reach the borders of Sunshower City by the end of two days.”
Whispers ripped their way through the crowd once more, tinged with more than a hint of panic this time. Verdant City was one of Sunshower’s neighboring cities, and not very far away. Though he’d read in the sect’s history books that Verdant City technically had a small family of cultivators watching over it, in crises like these Verdant City by all means fell under Meteor Court’s protection.
“We have called in support from the Coalition, but the nearest of the five great sects, Seven Star Manor, will take at the very least three days to arrive. In the meantime smaller sects in the surrounding towns have been notified for reinforcements, but we must not be over-reliant. Verdant City is, after all, our territory, and we are well prepared to defend it.”
A high level demon appearing near Sunshower City just when the wards were beginning to crumble. Fate really had a way of picking the worst times.
“I want all cultivators below the age of eighteen spreading out into the city and calling the commonfolk living near the outskirts to evacuate their homes. The Court is prepared to house five hundred people. I don’t want a single person left behind.”
Below the age of eighteen, Minwoo had said. Ricky wondered if he should follow, but decided against it. He, by all technicalities, wasn’t a disciple of the Court. Whatever this high level demonic entity was, he wanted to see it for himself, but more importantly, he knew because of his advanced level of cultivation, his skills would be better put to use in actual combat than on commonfolk evacuation duty. Not that he looked down on it, of course, but efficiency of allocation mattered the most in a crisis.
“Hey, it’s you! I remember you.”
Ricky turned at the sound of someone’s voice behind him. It was a familiar face, someone he knew he’d definitely met before, but it took him a second to put a name to it. “Junhyeon?”
Junhyeon’s face lit up with a bright smile. “That’s right! You’re one of Gyuvin’s friends from the training camp, right? Nice to see you back here again.”
Ricky inclined his head politely. “I’m here on business. It’s nice to meet you again.”
“Business? Sounds serious…” Junhyeon mused, frowning. “Well, you’ve picked a bad time. I can’t believe there’s a high level demon so close to the Court. You know nothing like that has ever happened in, like, the past eighty years or something right?”
Ricky nodded solemnly. “There’s lots of commonfolk living on the outskirts, especially to the East nearing Verdant City. A lot of people will die if we’re not careful.”
Junhyeon winked. “Then we’ll be careful, so no one will die. The Court is equipped for emergencies like these. Everything will be fine.”
“I hope it is.” Ricky smiled, just the ghost of one, really, but it was a smile nonetheless. He wondered if that was the attitude all Meteor Court cultivators had. Something about the playful gleam in Junhyeon’s eye, the way he managed to sound optimistic even in the face of such crisis, the way something in his voice resounded like the metal of determination…something about that reminded him of Gyuvin. He didn’t know if he should feel happy or sad about that.
“Everything will be fine. I’ve got to go, but I hope to see you when the dust settles, okay? Don’t die!”
Ricky laughed softly, lifting a hand to wave goodbye. “Keep yourself safe, Junhyeon.”
“You too!”
Comment