The battle was won, but not without cost. There was a skein of energy, a pollutant that had been left to infect my inner sea. I would need months of cultivation to clear that miasma of impure spirit.

Toi’s freedom had also come with some injuries. Rips to her spirit body that would require me to gift her with additional soul energy.

“I should be healed in days,” Toi informed me once she had managed a thorough accounting of her injuries. “The excess energies you secrete through your aura will still be enough to support my needs.

“I will be able to help you clear the spirit energy that taints your inner sea once my spirit body has been repaired.”

“How would that work?” I asked as I moved to examine the room and the floor opening that I had decided to explore without searching for traps.

“I will be able to entomb the taint in a soul construct, creating an object that you can attack and destroy. You will be able to automate the process after your first success, similar to how a non-cultivator’s body creates antibodies to fight infections.”

“Why do you think that trap triggered?” I asked abruptly. Now that I knew that clearing the taint was more pro forma than anything, I moved on.

There was a question that had been bothering me more and more as I examined the room while we spoke. I had been acknowledged as Clan Head. I wore the Clan’s ring, the symbol of that authority, yet the trap was still triggered.

Why would that happen?

“I believe you triggered a failsafe. A hidden mechanic used in case the Clan Head was being coerced,” Toi explained. “The trap probably required a password or influx of Qi in a specific manner in order to be circumvented.”

“Was that something that Clans in this place needed to worry about?”

“Not so much. But you can never discount the paranoia of Cultivators, especially those who have ensconced themselves in a position of authority- those Cultivators who have settled into the highest Realm they can reach.

“For some, maintaining their position as younger Cultivators ascend and reach heights they will never reach is the only goal left.”

The stairway into the room below had survived, as well as the hidden tomes and tokens. I still took the time to check for traps before descending, only to check for traps again. Toi searched diligently. Wounded as she was, she still made an effort and finally informed me she could find nothing.

Once I felt the room was safe, I quickly stored everything the hidden room contained in my storage device, making sure to separate these tomes from those I had gathered above.

If the Clan went to these lengths to hide and protect the contents of this room, I would make sure Aki was aware of that.

I had barely finished when the room and the world around me began to distort. I understood the restrictions of the Mystic Realm, but there was so much left to explore. Finding out the realm was only available for six months and that limit was inviolable was frustrating. I’d barely moved to exit the hidden room when I was transported out.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

There was no warning, no fluctuation in world Qi to hint that the trans-location was about to occur. That distortion was the only signal that something had changed.

One second, I was inside the Mystic Realm. The next, I was in a clearing in my Fief surrounded by the hundreds of other cultivators that had braved the Mystic Realm.

Along with the number of Cultivators that had survived were the bodies of dozens of men and women that had died in their attempts. Their bodies had been stripped, whatever possessions they’d had collected and claimed by the realm before they were returned.

I could only hazard to guess that their items would serve as spoils for future aspirants. Items that would serve as the loot to be claimed by those who would brave the dangers of the unknown the next time the Mystic Realm opened.

The crowd that had first formed in silent confusion began speaking after a moment. Most Cultivators were powerful enough to shrug off the disorientation they might have felt, but it still took a few seconds to establish where they were.

I had no idea who most of these people were. The only exceptions were a significant number of the Cultivators in the Body Refinement Realm. Most were people that had joined my House or Dojo. I sent a spear of perception out to each member, making sure they hadn’t sustained any injuries and connecting with them mentally long enough to have them gather together.

As they moved to join me, I examined the dead more closely. I suppose it was too much to ask that none of my people had died. I recognized four people, storing them in my spatial device until we could return to Xiwang, and they could be interned with honor.

Elven society treated their dead by cremation. There weren’t any religious overtones inherent in the practice. Our culture was firmly entrenched in actions that reflected the Heavenly Tribulation, so we had no Gods to worship.

Cremating the bodies released the stored Qi that had accumulated over an Elf’s life. The dantian would shatter in the process, and a burst of Qi would be released to be recycled. The area where cremation and shattering took place were selected with great care. The released energies would pool in these areas and could become a nexus of power over time.

These areas of Qi concentration were how villages, towns, and cities grew. Beasts tended to ignore a place that had formed a nexus. At least once, that nexus was tied to the town stone. The protection wasn’t absolute. Towns could still be swarmed during a beast tide. But a nexus allowed a population center to grow without worrying about the occasional beast running rampant.

There was something about the Qi released during cremation, a sense of order, Qi that had been filtered through the lens of cultivation that changed an area. The added refinement worked as a spark and triggered a change in the atmospheric Qi. A bubble or order that expanded by duplicating the Qi that cremation released.

As a ruler of a Fief, a Cultivator could monitor those areas set aside for cremation. It was one of the reasons I had toured my Fief so early. My exploration of each town allowed me to determine the vitality of a given area and know if a town might be reaching a saturation point to grow.

The bodies that remained after I claimed my people would first be identified and then turned over to Xiwang to dispose of, allowing me to add vitality and energy to any of the nexus in my territory. It was ruthless, perhaps, but the ruler of an area was within their right to claim the bodies of the deceased.

A capable ruler would make sure to release the Qi from the bodies they claimed in towns or cities close to ranking up.

For me, that would be Xiwang.

The town was well-defended now, but Lord Chon had gutted his populace during his rule, and the Qi collected from most of the cremations had been added to the town’s nexus. There was some missing, a significant amount if the tales of Lord Chon’s excess were to be believed.

By now, it had reached the point that even a single new shattered dantian might be enough to expand the capacity of the Xiwang to protect against beasts. I hoped that the timing for this expansion might not be fortuitous, but the event was destined to occur at this point.

Xiwang would expand.

The Mystic Realm had closed, and most of my people had survived.

There would be growing pains going forward. The new methodology for professions, the resources that could be harvested, and the innovations that I hoped to master would be the spearhead to see my Fief, House, and people rise in stature and power.

And when I had a spare moment, I had a new Clan to build.