Demonic Tribulations - Chapter 83 preview (Patreon)

Chapter 83 – Wu Ying

Had the peng tamed Wu Ying, or had Wu Ying tamed the peng? It was hard to tell, since he was flying beside the creature right now, both of them gusting through the air high above the plains that sprawled out beneath them, the winds blowing them forwards with ever greater vigor. In his hands, a large woven basket of fish that he occasionally fed the peng, as they flew to their destination.

Was it cannibalism for the peng to eat another fish? After all, the great peng had once been a fish themselves, before they had transformed into the massive, black bird that he flew with now. Could it be cannibalism, if this was but a mortal fish and the peng was so many things, but mortal, not one of them.

“You think too much,” White Feather, the peng, squawked in his mind. Though it was an urbane if young voice, there was still a touch of the bird’s tone in it as it spoke to him utilizing spirit speech. “Always, your eyes drift and your mind wanders.”

“I fear it’s a condition of humanity.”

“You should stop thinking and exist.” Every beat of the creature’s wings was slow, taking long moments to rise and fall all the way. The monstrous peng was massive, such that Wu Ying could lie down and a whole family of him could rest, head to toe, and still not reach the ends of its wingspan. Though it might not rival the great dragons he had encountered in size, the peng was no plain crow.

“I should.” Wu Ying tried to clear his mind, of the worries he had for his friend. For Yang Mu, sat on the creature’s back or Yu Ag who had been forced to accompany them. He tried not to think of his future or what it might hold, even though they were entering the very depths of the demonic realms. Or consider the fate of his friends he had left behind – those who had chosen not to rise, like Liu Tsong – or those who still climbed.

Fa Yuan, his martial sister, might one day join him. He had considered, briefly, if she too might benefit from the peaches. Knew that she likely would have turned down the assistance. Not for ego or belief that she did not require it, but because the of the trouble it might cause to take it.

Then, there were his parents. They had been old already when he had last seen them. His own ascension had been abrupt, his return even shorter. He had hoped to find time to speak with them, but Xin Gang had come too quickly. Found him, before he might have word with them.

He had also feared that seeing them would endanger them. A single, slipshod moment of control with his aura and he could have crippled all those within the village nevermind his own parents.

Such was the fate of immortals. They left behind parents who doted upon them, siblings who had once played together and companions who had fought side-by-side. No wonder so many text spoke of isolation, of becoming a hermit.

The pain one experienced upon ascending was strong enough to make a strong man quail.

And yet…

“You’re thinking.” Zong Se twisted the air a little, sending Wu Ying tumbling as the winds cut-out near his feet and blew harder at the top. For long moments, the ascendant spiralled through the air, tumbling head over heels over and over again before the wind caught him and brought him back to station next to the bird.

Heart thundering in his chest, he forced himself to control his breathing. For a moment, Wu Ying considered moderation in his reaction, then indulging himself, he called upon the wind and his own chi. It gusted forwards, demonic wind always willing to play a little prank.

It came down, from above, at an angle. It buffeted the big bird, causing his tail to drop and the feathers to ruffle as it came from behind. Wind from in front died, a sudden stillness that allowed the demonic wind to do its job, causing the peng discomfort before it re-exerted control.

Of course, the sudden cessation of wind in front caused the creature to plunge, no longer supported. Screams of fear and surprise erupted from the passengers, bands of chi wrapping around avian body to hold them in place.

Wu Ying was not particularly concerned. Yang Mu could fly, after all, and the most expensive packages had been stored in storage rings. The rest of the items, lashed down onto the creature’s back, were actually delivery deals that they had made, just to help offset the cost and earn them a little more funds.

“Games…” Zong Se said.

“Better than mouldering thoughts of things one cannot change, is it not?” Wu Ying said, drifting over.

“What thoughts?” Yang Mu sent, chanelling spirit talk in such a way that her voice was not broadcast. It was a subtle variation on the usual methods, but allowed for private communication, even at these heights. Admittedly, the peng was so strong that the question of privacy was somewhat in question.

“My family. Our friends.”

“Oh, Ah Ying…”

“You too…” He did not forget that she too had abandoned her parents.

“I’m not worried about mine. They’ll come, eventually.”

That was the difference between the two of them. Her parents were Nascent Soul cultivators who had long been on the path to immortality. His were solidly in the Body Cleansing stage, never meant – or intending – to climb further. His losses were guaranteed, hers… a surprise.

He hoped, that if they failed to rise, she would handle it well. He could still see the raw grief that edged her voice, took her mind away at times when thoughts of her sister arrived. Her death had been a surprise, and had led Yang Mu on her trail of vengeance from which she had nearly lost her life. If not for his opportune arrival…

Some might call it luck. Others might call it the workings of the Dao. Following the path of the Dao, that which encompassed everything, meant that one would be in the right place, at the right time, for the right reasons.

Though, at the same time, the question – the argument – of what right might be might continue. After all, actions looked at over the course of a thousand years, through the lens of an uncaring, overall force was… well, at best, enigmatic.

“Fish!”

Wu Ying shook those thoughts off, darting forward to feed the peng. The food was not without reason. Though the creatures might be able to fly for weeks on-end without feeding, that was at a more sedate pace. What Wu Ying demanded of it, required higher energy consumption. Thus providing sustenance was the least that he could do.

“Mackerel next,” Zong Se demanded.

“I’d need a bucket.”

“Bucket, yes.” Zong Se said. “Too small otherwise.”

“At least you don’t want sardines.”

“Too small. Can’t taste.”

Wu Ying nodded genially, placing the fish basket away in his storage ring and grabbing another. His old collection of storage rings, taken from cultivators who had either tried to steal or kill him had been worn away. A handful had shattered, the influx of immortal chi too much for them. Thankfully, the demonic realms were more stable, though both he and Yang Mu were keeping an eye out for better rings.

“Should I ask the wind to pick up further?” Wu Ying asked.

“Too much. Wait till next range.” A mental projection of the upcoming range appeared in Wu Ying’s mind. Along with it, a feel of the winds that converged and rose around it, the shift in temperature as the boiling, open pools of hot water and lava caused a violent updraft. More so, on the other side of the mountain, creating a rising, turning upward flow of air at the highest ranges. The winds would be much more approachable then, to increasing their efforts.

“Thank you.” Wu Ying hesitated, then seeing the look the peng was giving him, asked. At the same time, he floated the basket of fresh mackerel in the air as he scooped a bucket out. “How do you know so much, of the flow of winds? You’ve never done the trip yourself.”

Mouth open, it swallowed the mackerel tossed into it, guiding the few that flopped out into the air into its gullet. The bird closed its mouth, swallowing the contents before letting out a little burp. Simultaneously, it spoke in Wu Ying’s mind.

“Others have. Memory of all, gifted and transferred.”

“You have a hive mind?” Wu Ying said, surprised. “All of you?”

An imperious nod, and another basket of fish was added. He began to sweat, rivulets of cold fear running down his back. It was one thing to anger a single peng by being rude and making suggestions to it. Another to have gone out, floating amongst the flock and asking them over and over again till one had agreed.

If they all had remembered, sensed him, then…

“Why choose me? Why not direct me before?”

“Why not?” Zong Se said. “We remember the same. We do not think the same. Our experiences are ours. The tales told by others, are their tales. Like your history. Important, but not yours.”

“I…” Wu Ying stuttered to a stop. What could you say, when another related their experiences to you? Experiences that were so different that you had no real context to draw from? Perhaps only… “Thank you for explaining.”

Another slow, imperious nod as glinting yellow eye regarded the floating ascendant beside him. Humor in there, in a creature that was so young and old at the same time. “Less talk. More fish!”