Demonic Tribulations - Chapter 91 preview (Patreon)

Chapter 91 – Yin Xue

Yin Xue woke slowly, his body cataloging the sensations he was experiencing. Smooth flesh, pressed against his own naked skin. Soft cloth, a silk analogue pressed covered his lower body and that of his companion. His gaze fixed on the remarkably supple and smooth body of Vriti. She had joined him again for the fifth night in a row, with her presence in his bed a more common occurrence than not since their escape.

A part of him wondered how much of her presence here was a vague attempt at tying him to the refugees. Another portion knew that the hunger she exhibited during their nightly lovemaking came from a different place, a need to reclaim what had been taken.

It helped that he had not flinched when he stared at her, even when she had taken off her clothing. It also helped that the scarring had reduced, the influx of energy from the stolen beast cores helping to smooth and recover some of her scarring.

Not that Yin Xue could speak. Not when it came to the physical. Her revulsion over her body could not match his own at his in the early years of his transformation. Trapped in the mystic realm created by Wu Ying’s world spirit ring, supping on rarefied chi and pulling energy from the heart and the chaotic chi within the forming world; he had transformed too.

Once, he had been an elegant, well-spoken and pale nobleman. Even when the initial progress he had earned through choking down pills and bathing in medicinal baths had slowed, he had never lost that. Even earned a place aiding Fairy Yang because of his studies, of his ability to organize and manage the multiple foolish courtiers.

Being beside such beauty on a semi-regular basis, helping with others of her ilk when they arrived had inured him to their beauty. He had seen the powders, the creams and the lip paper they utilized to improve their looks.

Vriti’s might be scarred on one side, but it was also mortal. Imperfect and lived in, unlike the celestial and imperious beauty of the fairy’s. Most of all, she was here and willing, and that made up for many missed notes in a melody.

“You’re thinking again.” She pushed up from his chest to seek his eyes better. “What of?”

“If I said us, would you believe me?”

Vriti tugged the cloth up to her chest, burnt and scarred eye flashing in fury. “Then, you’d lie.”

“The documents. I think I have understood some of what they say.” Parsing through the language of the upper caste had been difficult, though the aid of Wase had been invaluable. The man had learnt the language to do his duties – to read letters and documents to ensure they were delivered properly, to sort out the basics of supply contracts and to – occasionally – aid the lessons of the youngest.

Not that there was that many documents, overall. One of Yin Xue’s surprises had been how little paper there was in this kingdom. In the Middle Kingdom, even the poorest peasant had a few books and scrolls of their own. Vast industries to create the paper necessary for the imperial bureaucracy meant that a surplus of paper and scholars had formed, feeding the voracious reading appetites of the populace.

Here, though, paper and knowledge, the ability to read was tightly controlled. Most of those from the village or the servants could barely even recognize their own names in the common tongue. Never mind the language of the visal. As such, most messages were passed not by paper but by messenger themselves, with only the most important being written.

“It’s strange, to be learning their language.” Vriti said, slipping her feet out of the covers in search of the slippers that they all used. Stone floors were cold in the morning, and the guest house they had purloined was set high in the hills and remote. Cooler than the pounding heat of the lowlands, and the large doors and open frame building with its courtyard helped to keep it even colder.

“You don’t have to.” Yin Xue rolled out of bed on the other side, stretching nude. Doing so meant that he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Rather than the willow lean, pale but muscled nobleman, a larger, hulking demon with horns and yellow eyes looked back. His hair had become a mane, his body filled out from the disordered mess of his time before. Proportions had reformed, though his right arm – red and muscular, with corded muscle and veins – still sat oddly against his black-skinned form.

For a moment, he felt a sense of vertigo; looking out of eyes that were not his and staring back at a body that was not connected to the memories within his mind. His sense of self twisted, seeking to shatter and his claws twitched, wanting to tear at the skin of his body. To rip it off, and reveal the real him beneath it all.

No wonder so many demonic cultivators went mad. It was one thing to transform oneself, another to do so by your own hand and to find that one’s final form was not one you dreamt of.

Rather than act on the impulse, Yin Xue stared at his image. Forced himself to take it in, and then to draw upon the boiling demonic chi within. He coated himself in the power, letting it pulse outward to a hand’s breath about him. Controlled chaos at his fingertips, strength well beyond anything he could have ever achieved as that failed human cultivator.

No, the false dragon was dead and buried. He had been dying for ages, stabbed first by his own incompetence and then trod upon by all the other prodigies and farmers who had ascended ahead of him. Never even looking down to see who they climbing upon.

Better to be a demon who had the power to change his fate than a mortal servant.

When he looked away, he realised that Vriti had dressed in the interim. Had even laid out a set of robes from him from the purloined stash. That there were closets full of such clothing for the taking had scandalized many of the villagers, though Wase and the other servants took it as a matter of course.

After all, outside of harvesting beast stones, the other major industry of the nation had been cloth and weaving itself. Showcasing one’s wares on the body was the least they could do.

“Thank you.” Yin Xue flicked a hand, pulling the robes to him. He no longer fumbled over dressing himself in the wraps, so different from the clothing he was used to wearing. Tunics that went over the head, rather than belted across the sides. A single pieces that did not open, hanging from the shoulders such that it was breezy and wide, the opening near the collar cut into a triangular opening to give further breath. Pants, that were not pants, but a cloth that one had to tie upwards and sideways, such that one formed the legs of trousers. That had been most confusing..

If he stayed, he might have to introduce proper clothing to this realm.

“What are your plans for today?”

“I believe I shall have the rest of the documents translated by the end of today,” Yin Xue said. “It might be a late night though.”

Vriti huffed, impatiently. “Not today.”

“I make no claims on your time,” Yin Xue said, genially.

Instead of being mollified, she grew even more irritated. “Not that. You… What do you intend to do when you’re done with your translations?”

“Ah.” Yin Xue frowned. “I know not, yet. This –” a gesture all around, “while peaceful cannot last. Sooner or later, they will find us. I am leaning towards leaving, but Urduta is vast.” The maps we have do not show distances well, but Wase had given him some sense of distance. It would be weeks – even for him – before he could exit the kingdom, if he was not mistaken.

Possibly months.

“Then, help us fight.” Vriti repeated the same plea she and others had made. While he had dressed for a day of reading, she was getting ready to train their stolen weapons. The single guard who had defected had his work cut-out, turning servants into soldiers; but every morning till late at night, they trained outside.

As though it mattered. A single high-Energy Storage cultivator could have cut through them all with little effort.

Something must have shown in his eyes, because she snorted and turned away. Strode for the door, leading outwards. At the edge of it, she turned back, intelligent eyes cutting through to the heart of the matter.

“Soon, you will have to decide. What you will fight for. Where you stand. I have seen those with power, but no ground beneath them.” A hand touched her face, added. “They turn on themselves and others soon enough. The rootless cannot stand tall.”

So saying, she left. Leaving Yin Xue to finish dressing himself in stolen gold silk, having rolled out of another man’s bed in an alien realm. Rootless indeed.