At a chamber deep inside of the Well of Wonders, past the gaping craters and sprinkled debris, a bloody figure stood. His knees wobbled in thought of taking a step. Glued to his position as a statue, the most of what he could do was stare at the other person, who was in a debatably worse state than himself. Grisla’s foot dragged. He convinced the other to crawl too. Upon hearing, Ji Nan’s body squirmed. Yet powerless. The boy sounded as if he were breathing through a straw.

Back arched as if he were an old beggar two days from life support, Grisla pulled himself forward. Slow, but progress is progress. The scraping of boots over pulverized rock is the death knell to a wounded Ji Nan. Grisla knew, with Ji Nan’s disturbing inhale, exhale that inside, his sternum looked like a half-finished puzzle. From this distance, he couldn’t quite tell if he was still dangerous. Likely.

His foot hit a steadfast rock, and the walking reaper tripped. Grisla felt if he landed any harder, he’d shatter to pieces. The blood from his head got to his eye, about sealing it shut. No matter how much his everythingscreamed at him to collapse and rest, he couldn’t. Just couldn’t. Invoking the oath meant that he was in a race, though Ji Nan might die, he hadn’t specified the exact details of when he will die. An uncertainty of how oaths under heaven worked made him act with haste. It was his first time ever invoking it, and the last as he’d figured. Assuming he could make an oath to never swear oaths he wouldn’t have a qualm about it. Especially when it put him in this shape.

Retrospectively, he wasn’t thinking clearly at the time. Emotion bested him.

No matter how much he commanded and berated his legs for failing him—they would not bring him to stand. And he could not blame them too hard, continuous abuse of ‘Steps of the Alpha’ brought his lower half to their own knees. Now as a momentary cripple, there’s nothing saving him if trouble came to bear.

Ji Nan was awake. Between the decision of precious air and talking to Grisla, he chose the former. No matter how much agony he may be feeling, the pain cannot cut through the trembling and wide eyes he had watching Grisla worm his way over. Unlike Grisla, he looked to still have use of his limbs, how useful they might be, he didn’t want to speculate, it’ll paralyze his decision-making.

“…Don’t…quit,” Ji Nan squeezed out.

“…you.”

A lance of pain stabbed Grisla, putting his crawl to an end. Leaving him to stare uselessly at the one sworn to die. It seemed like that was Ji Nan’s option, too.

Ji Nan’s neck looked as if it couldn’t hold up his head, or did it refuse, like Grisla’s legs. “How…?”

An aching silence lay over the chamber, once a battlefield just moments ago.

“The formation, I’m too slow to,” Grisla coughed, and worked his jaw to see if his saliva glands still worked, “dodge it, as you said.” He opened his hand. “However, I had a hunch that if I cannot break through with power alone, then the best I could do is… defuse the ‘Explode’ script.”

“W–What? Im…possible.”

“A technique of mine allows me to change their state in the world. All I… had to do was think about returning each talisman activated to a time before they were. Rendering, all of it, effectively the same as normal paper.”

Ji Nan’s eyes widened, a little bit further. “So, I… set myself up for this. But—” he wheezed, “Even so, the time it takes, to even pull it off before you…”

“It was a gamble.”

Ji Nan, like smoothing a cat’s fur, sighed. “I see.”

“It doesn’t,” he said, frowning, “explain my Soul Projection.”

Grisla almost wanted to laugh at this. This whole ordeal came about on a gamble, and because of it, he’d succeeded in defeating Ji Nan. He had thoughts about combining his Jadewater Hands into an attack, but, because of his restricted reserves due to a limited Juva pool, continually leaking, he wouldn’t dare use it in a such a straightforward manner. Hitting the fifth level of Solidification brought him up to the minimum to think of trying it, and without the Earth Revolving Pill he would be dead. An enemy he couldn’t even touch weeks ago, now on the same floor as he, the so-called “Trash” months ago back home. The more he thought about it, the glee inside worked as its own salve to his wounds. Rei Han couldn’t beat him. Bei Mei would be hard pressed as well. An elite among the outer court disciples he was not, and yet still…

Jadewater Fist. Sounds good.

“You’re not the only one who can see souls,” Grisla admitted.

It was a thunderclap to Ji Nan, as the stars begun to align for him. He flashed a despairing smile, slick with blood. “Heh. It makes sense, that, combined with your… technique, means your fist was aimed at the nucleus of my Projection. How frustrating…”

Some strength began to pool in his legs, and Grisla brought himself to a knee. That made Ji Nan flash a sort of deprecating smile for himself.

“…I’ve lost. I’ve lost, Grisla Orlith. If I had the strength you would be dead. But…” he groaned, “That fist of yours knocked everything loose, it feels. I’m getting dizzier by the second, surely an organ or two was punctured from my ribcage. Every breath makes it worse. Ah…”

He chuckled, “You swore an oath, didn’t you? You keep them well.”

“How unfortunate… If you ever make it to the Rosewater Exchange, I’d love to see you…”

Grisla was confused. The Rosewater Exchange? Isn’t that…

A second wind seemed to have come over Ji Nan’s eyes, and he stared into his killer’s. “Grisla, by the way, stay away from…”

His muscles relaxed, head lowering. The little gleam in his eye, that Grisla, and everyone else that has walked this earth began to fade. Grisla couldn’t tear himself away from watching, he felt obligated to watch. Then, the cultivator Ji Nan was no more.

With his improved Spiritual Sense, he saw that his spirit wasn’t tethered to this world anymore. Passing onwards to a place he couldn’t see nor hear. It was his first time watching a man die under his observation. Usually, he was too caught up in the moment to notice. Doing murder was much different than watching the aftermath. There was nothing to be done about that—only one of them was destined to walk out of the Well of Wonders. Grisla didn’t need an oath to keep himself to it.

Grisla bowed to the corpse. “It was fun, Ji Nan. Thank you. I am sure that we’ll meet again.”

He collapsed, letting the black take him as if he were following behind his enemy.

Grisla stirred. After he fell, the drowning sleep lulled him away from the pain. Awareness returning, he wondered how long it’d been since he’s taken such a rest, even more interesting, as of now he’s gotten better sleep on a stone floor, stewing in his own blood all the while. Still seeing black, Grisla thought, maybe a few more hours won’t hurt. He considered it a reward.

Suddenly, something poked his cheek. He grumbled and turned on his side. The poke followed him. He did it again: poked. And again, and again, and again…

Grisla’s crusty eyes opened, “What?”

A curtain of silver was before him. An unsympathetic face was in the middle of this; cobalt eyes staring at him. “Good dream, bad dream?”

“No dream,” he picked himself up. “Maybe I would’ve gotten there if you hadn’t bothered me.”

Seri rolled her eyes. “Please,” she walked to Ji Nan’s corpse, which was beginning to take an unnatural hue, “I’d doubt another two hours would do it for you. Remember, there’s a limit for how long we can be in here. Not only that…”

She covered her nose. “You need to get rid of this.”

Grisla frowned. From one problem to another, it was. The reality had set in immediately—he’d just killed a Jade Fate Sect disciple; three, actually. And a rising star among the outer court, no less; Elder Jadestone had already intervened and did a spectacular job of damage control to keep him breathing and the drama from spilling out; however, no amount of apologies can wash this one away. A few cultivators of unimportance can be written off as a lifestyle hazard—A few mooks and a Ji Nan? That’s a direct attack on the sect.

“…Do I have to?”

She didn’t answer.

Seri looked from Ji Nan and back to Grisla, “…Squeamish?”

He nodded unabashedly.

Worse, he had no way to dispose of a body. Grisla didn’t think about getting rid of corpses; that was the part after the battle nobody talked about, of course. The heroes in the stories didn’t have to pick up men by their feet and stuff them in closets like some sort of maniac.

“Ji Nan couldn’t find me without myself giving away my position. There’s even less of a chance… when nobody knows that—”

Seri snorted. “A bold assumption when it comes to a corpse. How do you know that there isn’t someone behind us right now? Or, when you leave there won’t be another arriving here, to see this? Maybe not now, or even the week coming. Five years later when you’ve let this day become a fragment in your memories, someone might come. Someone might take the exact same path you did, either by being able to read or dumb luck. And there’s a chance they could be from this sect—only this sect, because no-one’s allowed to access the Well of Wonders outside of it, besides rare exceptions like yourself.”

“People will put together the pieces, Grisla. Don’t be naive.”

She cupped Grisla’s cheeks. “One day, if you are strong enough, you can leave enough corpses to fill the underworld and back—and nobody’ll ever dare speak a word of it.”

Grisla’s head lowered. Then he blinked in surprise, looking her up and down, “You changed your outfit?”

Seri’s usual dress was swapped out for a more form-fitting one, accentuating her figure and bringing out her unusual appearance with colors to contrast: Black with Gold trimming. Additionally, even her hairpin was swapped. She looked like a witch for the apocalypse rather than the servant for the Cardinal Four.

She twirled. “Eh, changing outfit’s not really what it is. More like… Soul Projection but modifying the form? If I had to simplify? Takes two seconds for an Empress like myself to do.”

“Gotcha,” he grinned. “Looks nice.”

“Flattery’s not going to get me to deal with a body for you,” she said, sticking her tongue out. “Only the crudest of men think that it’s nice to compliment while shouldering up with death.”

He wanted to throw his arms up, but a wince of pain halted that; a scoff will do. “Always so picky.”

An idea came to him, faster than he’d expected. There was a way, and it didn’t involve going back to Limbo and begging the Vermillion Bird to assist; pathetically to add. A fire burned above them the whole time, the Everburn dancing inside the statue’s hand was what he needed—the evidence of Ji Nan and the other two will be destroyed, and his involvement may be speculated, but with the Well of Wonders never being safe and Ji Nan, despite his excellence, was still just a Solidification realm cultivator, his death wouldn’t be too shocking.

I just need some kindling, I’ve some extra back in my bag.

Nobody would believe that he could do it in the first place—a nearly ironclad defense. Nearly. Truth be told, from what Grisla knows about sects, only the outer disciples would care. For a time.

After looking around, he saw that although he carried his stuff in a bag, it didn’t help much, as the chaos tore his bag open, leaving his stuff strewn from here to there. Grabbing his bag, he held the tear up to his eye.

“It’s not too bad,” he sighed. “A quick stitch and it’ll be like new.”

The kindling didn’t take long to find either. All that was left was putting everything back near his bag so he could stitch it together after disposing of the bodies. Grisla did a once-over at his gear; it was all there—he squinted; it wasn’t. There was something missing. Something important.

He tilted his head, the book, right…

It was nowhere to be seen. There wasn’t a worry, it couldn’t be lost, though the idea of it being destroyed put a sweep of worry in him.

Grisla lifted a boulder, “There you are.” ‘Seven Gates of Hell’ was trapped under a rock double its weight and yet, it didn’t have a single bit of damage besides what it already had before picking it out of the Archives. The strangeness deepened. It gave him a question, quickly—if the boulder couldn’t do it, what did? Then, could he destroy the book? If in a miracle there was a spare, he’d put a beatdown on it as if it were Ji Nan revived. For science, of course.

He cringed. His hands were still bloody; if Shu were here and saw this, no matter how useless the book might be—Grisla’s ears would be ringing for the next year. Cracking open the book, he saw… nothing. Just the symbol again.

“Huh?”—he tried to close the book; his hands wouldn’t move. His arms wouldn’t move.

“Grisla,” Seri yelled. “Drop that thing now!”

Heart tightening, Grisla kept trying to wrestle away from an invisible grip. Where his blood-caked thumb met the corner of the page, a crimson glow rose beneath it.

“I can’t!”

Seri put two arms on him; her additional strength did nothing. When she forgoes that and strikes the book—a barrier blocked it, even holding her arm in place too.

A voice invaded his head.

[WILL. NOT. INTERFERE.]

The book returned her attack in kind, Seri screamed as a flash of crimson struck her.

“Seri!”

Grisla watched as Seri exploded into dots of light; and vacuumed back into his medallion. In desperation, he tried screaming at the book, “Stop this! What did I do!”

[SOULBINDING COMPLETE. NEW INHERITOR, OBTAINED. THE GATES WILL OPEN ONCE MORE.]

Like Seri, his own mind was vacuumed somewhere. Just not to Limbo as he would wish.