The Third Subterranean Sanctuary reeked of iron and salt.

  Liang Zhiqiang stopped beneath the arch of the western entrance, closely followed by his improvised retinue of guardian disciples. Before him, the bodies of five thousand slaves stretched as far as the eye could see, staining with their agony what had once been the most sacred place of the Liang Sect.

  Now it is only a waypoint before descending to the lower levels of the mines, he reminded himself. Only that, nothing more.

  A group of children in yellow robes ran past him. They carried vials of oils and clean bandages in their arms, hastily distributing them among the higher-ranking healers. Liang Zhiqiang grimaced. As a man of faith, he was not indifferent to the suffering of the slaves; but as the sect master, neither could he ignore the waste of the sect’s resources.

  “One of you go fetch my son, Liang Zizai,” he ordered. “He should be in the upper chambers. Bring him before me at once.”

  Despite having given the order, his retinue did not move.

  They are only children, he thought. Disciples of the Inner Palace, but children nonetheless. I should not have left my guards behind.

  “I-I’ll go get him,” one of them managed to say. “I will, Sect Master.”

  Zhiqiang looked at him. With cultivation barely in the Cruel Phase, it would be a miracle if Liang Zizai even deigned to speak to him. He turned his gaze to choose two other disciples to accompany the boy, but at that very instant the child disappeared. Neither his shadow nor his scent remained behind.

  The Phantom Stealth Shadow Art, Zhiqiang perceived a thread of phasic essence lingering in the air, and an even fainter trace of vital energy. Nineteen at most. It has been a long time since I saw someone so young master the technique of the Spectral Steps.

  He smoothed his beard with his hand. As far as he knew, only the nephew of Magno Shi possessed that kind of talent. No one else, despite at least ten attempts since then, had managed to cross the free steppe by sneaking into the overseers’ carriage. Yes, now he remembered. That day, that boy had earned a place within the sect… only to lose the one he held at his family’s table. He had run away from home to participate in the trial, renouncing a brilliant future as his uncle’s first apprentice.

  Zhiqiang could not judge him. In his youth, he himself had made a similar decision, and because of it he had become sect master. Had he continued his studies in magic, the sect would long ago have fallen into the hands of the Xiao, the Xi, or one of the many branches of the Ling Clan.

  “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaghggh.”

  A horrifying scream reached his ears.

  Slaves were not capable of screaming that loudly, nor ordinary disciples. Zhiqiang had a bad premonition and used his spiritual sense to examine the sanctuary. The scream, he was now certain, had come from one of the medical tents on the eastern side, from someone in the third stage of the Savage Phase. And only one person in these mines possessed that level of cultivation.

  “Form a perimeter around that tent,” he ordered his retinue. “Allow no one to enter or leave.”

  He leaned forward and crossed the sanctuary in a single step, tearing through the air like a whip. The tent’s curtain flew open and Zhiqiang entered, his robes flaring like a horse’s mane. Inside, two healers were spreading a thick green paste over the legs of a young man who screamed in his sleep. The youth clearly possessed high status, the blood-soaked silks made that obvious, but he was not Liang Zizai.

  “Who dares to enter…?” exclaimed a young healer. “S-Sect Master! My sincerest apologies. I didn’t recognize you. I never…”

  “What happened here?” Zhiqiang cut him off.

  The healer trembled like a leaf in the wind.

  “Are you referring to young Gu Jiang?”

  Zhiqiang associated the name with one of the many parasites that hovered around the youngest of his sons. He approached the cot and used his phasic essence to inspect the inside of the boy’s body. His hip was broken and two of his five viscera had been pierced; but his legs had taken the worst of it. Zhiqiang had never seen bones in worse condition. He doubted the boy would ever walk normally again for the rest of his life.

  But there was something else, something wrong with his phasic essence. The world-seed in his heart was severely damaged… no, not damaged, rather muddied, as if someone had thrown a handful of dirt into a cup of crystal-clear water.

  Zhiqiang withdrew his spiritual sense.

  “Must I repeat my question?”

  “Oh no, no, of course not. I’ll explain right away,” the healer stammered. “It happened inside the ruins less than thirty minutes ago. A magical explosion knocked unconscious those who were transporting the artifact fragments. Slaves, foremen, overseers… from the most humble to the most esteemed, no one was spared.” He pointed to the other cots inside the tent. “Most of the injured are slaves, but those who suffered the worst wounds were the disciples on the observation platforms. Young Gu Jiang in particular was at the very top of the chamber…”

  “The bones of someone in the Savage Phase were shattered by a simple fall?”

  “It is the truth, Sect Master. I would not dare lie to you. The magical explosion suppressed everyone’s cultivation. The protections in his robe barely saved his life.”

  Liang Zhiqiang frowned, but did not press the matter. The healer did not seem aware of the stupidity of what he had just said.

  “Were there any deaths?”

  “The four overseers accompanying young Gu Jiang,” the healer replied, lowering his head. “Three others were injured under different circumstances. The rest are fine. Well… more or less.”

  “More or less?” Zhiqiang repeated, already fed up. “What kind of healer are you? Speak clearly!”

  “I-it’s difficult to explain… I…”

  “Sect Master,” a hoarse voice interrupted. “At last I find you. This humble one feels ashamed for taking so long to present his greetings. I beg your pardon.”

  Liang Zhiqiang turned toward the source of the voice. Magno Shi stood only a few steps away, hands clasped together and bent in a deep bow. His old friend had always been like this: respectful to the extreme, even when his position as head of the Medicinal Hall and the Grand Armory allowed him to address Zhiqiang almost as an equal.

  “Magno Shi,” Zhiqiang greeted him with a nod. “Your apprentice was about to explain what happened to the overseers.”

  “And not in the best manner, it seems,” Magno Shi cast a disapproving glance at the healer. “If you permit it, Sect Master, I would like to have that honor.”

  He bowed again, letting his faded beard hang until it nearly brushed the ground. Though they were of the same generation, the vast difference between their cultivations had left Liang Zhiqiang with the appearance of a man barely in his forties, while Magno Shi resembled a mortal with one foot already in the grave.

  “You may.”

  “Then I shall,” he smiled. “But I would like to show you another patient first. I believe that way you will better understand what happened. This way.”

  Magno Shi turned to indicate the direction, and Zhiqiang noticed he carried a pair of accounting books under his arm, books that should only have been in Liang Zizai’s possession.

  “Let us go then,” he said. “Let us not waste any more time.”

  Magno Shi gestured to the healer to return to his work and then headed deeper into the tent. Zhiqiang matched his pace, certain the walk would not be long, but after two minutes they still had not reached their destination. The tent, which had seemed so small from outside, stretched far beyond the sanctuary, along a winding and seemingly endless tunnel.

  “Are all these slaves?” Zhiqiang asked, seeing the rows of cots arranged along both sides of the path.

  “Something like that,” Magno Shi replied. “They are foremen. I don’t know if you remember. Several positions were created to motivate the workers to break into the Cruel Phase. The measure was not very successful, and we only kept the rank of foreman.”

  Zhiqiang nodded.

  The Fundamental Phase, the first stage of cultivation, was the basis of all life on the planet. From the most ordinary grass to royal princes, all living beings were born already possessing cultivation at the first stage of the Fundamental Phase. And as if it were a gift, their agility and physical strength would increase as they rose toward the peak of the ninth and final stage of that phase.

  But the Cruel Phase was different.

  Common people resented it, feared it. For here, it was not only muscle that strengthened, but bone and joints as well. What had once been pure blessing now brought horrific episodes of pain every few days. If someone entered the Cruel Phase and failed to break into the Savage Phase before old age, whether due to lack of resources, talent, or opportunity, that unfortunate wretch would be condemned to suffer until his final breath.

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  Of course, it was possible to force slaves to ascend into the Cruel Phase. Liang Xinghao, the father of his grandfather, had attempted it shortly after becoming sect master. But as he discovered only a few months later: a slave fears the whip only if he fears his own life less.

  “Is it here?” Zhiqiang asked.

  Before them, blocking the tunnel, stood a tall panel of black wood.

  “Yes… this is the place,” Magno Shi replied. “Sect Master, perhaps we should take a moment to prepare ourselves. What lies here…”

  “That will not be necessary,” he replied. “I am ready.”

  But he was wrong.

  The moment Magno Shi opened the door, a sharp smell of lye and aromatic herbs forced him to step back. Nothing had irritated his senses to such an extent, at least not in the last three decades. Still, he was grateful that the air did not stink of blood.

  “My apologies,” Magno Shi said. “I ordered tica leaves burned. I am already accustomed to it…”

  “I can tolerate the smell,” Zhiqiang replied. “Proceed.”

  Magno Shi nodded obediently and quickly approached one of the cots. The man lying there was a slave, the scars across his body gave him away, but unlike the others Zhiqiang had seen along the way, this one had his eyes open.

  “Curious, isn’t it?” the sorcerer commented.

  Zhiqiang would not have chosen that word. But yes, it was curious.

  The man’s gaze was unfocused. He breathed without expanding his chest, and he drooled. Drooled a great deal. It was repulsive.

  “Observe his face carefully,” Magno Shi used the nail of his little finger to cut the man’s cheekbone. “Do you see? The muscle does not tense, he barely even bleeds… And that is not all. The sweat covering him is pure water, without a trace of salt…”

  “Is this what you wished to show me?” Zhiqiang asked. “A slave? Nothing more?”

  Magno Shi turned, genuinely confused.

  “Yes. The damage this slave received is unique. I wished to show you…”

  “Is my son well?”

  The sorcerer’s eyes flashed for an instant before he lowered his gaze, ashamed. He stepped away from the cot, nervously took a small flower from his pocket, and tossed it into his mouth. His teeth, few due to his age, were stained purple from prolonged consumption of yuguo flowers.

  “Liang Zizai did not descend to the mines today,” Magno Shi replied softly. “He ordered young Gu Jiang to replace him. When I found out, I intended to report it to the Disciplinary Hall, but the incident in the ruins occurred before I could secure a messenger.”

  Liang Zhiqiang felt anger burn in his stomach. His face twisted. He wanted to shout something, but the only sound that escaped his lips was something halfway between a cough and a roar. He clenched his fist, struck his chest, and only then was able to curse his son’s name.

  “…ungrateful, wretch, waste…” transporting the artifact fragments to the surface was an important task, but hardly urgent. Perfect for improving the reputation of his youngest son. He had never imagined the wretched boy would abandon his responsibilities to amuse himself with the girls in the village. “…a true disappointment,” he muttered, making the air around him tremble. “A disappointment!”

  Magno Shi stepped back, intimidated by the sudden outburst of power.

  “Sect Master, calm your anger, calm your anger. Think about it carefully. Perhaps it was good that he was not here. Young Master Liang Zizai’s cultivation is only slightly higher than Gu Jiang’s. The fall might have killed him.”

  “At least it would have been in the fulfillment of his duty! What am I supposed to do now? Punish him and make his shame public? Let him go unpunished?”

  “Sect Master…”

  “Enough. I do not wish to speak of this anymore.” He flicked his arm, forcing the air to flow normally again. “Explain what happened in the mines. And stop rambling.”

  Magno Shi hurriedly swallowed the ochre mass in his mouth.

  “Yes, of course. As I was saying, the slave does not react to painful stimuli, does not respond when spoken to, cannot distinguish light from darkness, and several other things of that sort. There are others who show some of his symptoms, but without a doubt, this one is in the worst condition.”

  Liang Zhiqiang closed his eyes, clinging with all his strength to the promise he had made to Liang Zizai’s mother. He would have time later to prepare an appropriate punishment for his son.

  “And what is the cause?” he asked, trying to focus on the dying slave. “Was he at the center of the explosion?”

  “Explosion… explosion…” Magno Shi repeated, as if savoring the word. “Yes, I suppose some might call it that. Though there was no fire or heat, only a burst, and suddenly everyone collapsed. A most disturbing spectacle, if I may say so.

  “As for whether this slave was at the center of the phenomenon, I cannot rule it out. As I said, there was no fire or light involved. But it is unlikely that this is the cause of his condition. You see, the rest of his work squad emerged unharmed.”

  That finally captured Zhiqiang’s attention.

  “Unharmed? All of them?”

  “There were a few bruises here and there, and one dislocated his shoulder. Minor injuries compared to… whatever this is.”

  “Then what was the cause? Why did this slave end up in this state?”

  “His cultivation. This man was in the fourth stage of the Cruel Phase. I examined him thoroughly. Far above what the records indicated. He must have been hiding his strength, perhaps hoping to escape someday.” Magno Shi sadly shook his head. “Poor wretch. He could have been promoted to foreman and lived a slightly better life. In a few years, perhaps he might even have been allowed to become a servant.”

  Liang Zhiqiang looked up and counted eleven other patients in the room, but they were not slaves. They were supervisors in the middle stages of the Cruel Phase. If cultivation truly had something to do with the mental damage, then all of them had just become living corpses.

  “How?” he asked. “How can something take someone’s cultivation and turn it against them?”

  “I know of certain combinations of poisons that can disrupt the proper flow of phasic essence, and there are spells a person can use to restrict their own cultivation. There is no reason to believe that magic cannot take such effects to the next level.”

  “Can you identify the artifact that caused it?”

  “This was not the work of an artifact,” Magno Shi clarified. “At least not of a single one, that I am certain of. Most likely several fragments activated at the same time. Those things have been buried beneath the rocks for a thousand years. Who knows how corrupted their magic has become.”

  Liang Zhiqiang studied the slave’s face. Each eye blinked independently, as if the gesture were merely a reflex rather than the product of a thinking mind.

  “If you are mistaken…”

  “I am not mistaken,” said Magno Shi. “An artifact capable of rendering thousands of cultivators unconscious, even if its effects were limited to the lower phases, would be extraordinarily powerful. Powerful enough to be detected by the Eye of Heaven.”

  Liang Zhiqiang stroked his beard. The Eye of Heaven was the highest-grade artifact in the entire sect. Discovered just over a year ago deep within the ruins, its origin dated back to the era of the draconic sects, when it was used to analyze the quality of other magical artifacts. Thanks to this Eye of Heaven, the Liang Sect knew that a heaven-grade artifact existed somewhere in the mountains, though the search had so far proved fruitless.

  “Even so, I must postpone the transport of the fragments,” Liang Zhiqiang declared. “I cannot risk something like this happening on the surface.”

  “No, no,” Magno Shi shook his head. “Zhiqiang, in our generation you are the highest authority in the path of cultivation, but I am the authority in the path of magic. Trust me. If this disaster were anything more than an isolated incident, the Eye of Heaven would have identified the collection of fragments as a weapon in its own right.”

  “You cannot be certain.”

  “Of course I can. I am a Magno,” he said with great confidence. “I am even willing to assume responsibility for transporting the fragments… with your approval, of course.”

  Liang Zhiqiang considered it for a few seconds. A mage in charge of magical artifacts. Yes, it seemed appropriate. He did not know why he had not thought of it before.

  “Very well. So be it,” he said, turning to observe the other wounded. “Were you the one who authorized the use of the Medicinal Hall’s resources?”

  “Oh, well…” Magno Shi lowered his head. “Yes, it was I. When I saw so many cultivators collapse, I thought it might be some sort of toxin or contagious illness. I lost my composure, I acknowledge my mistake. I have already ordered the treatment of the slaves to be canceled. After all, most of them did not suffer severe injuries.”

  “Cancel the treatment of the supervisors as well.”

  Magno Shi recoiled in shock.

  “Sect Master, you cannot be serious!” he exclaimed. “I understand letting the foremen die, but the supervisors are disciples. Disciples of the Middle Palace! Their families will not look kindly upon.”

  Liang Zhiqiang felt doubt creep into his mind, but he immediately steeled himself. It was his duty as sect master to minimize losses.

  He pointed at the slave’s body before him.

  “Will everyone in the Cruel Phase end up like this?”

  Magno Shi fell silent, torn between his duty to his patients and his duty to the sect.

  “Yes. All of them,” he said at last. “The few who were in the Savage Phase are already showing some improvement, but I do not believe those in the Cruel Phase have any chance.”

  “Then do as I told you. Grant them an honorable death and send the bodies to their families. As for the foremen, cremate them.” He paused. “If they had relatives among the lower-ranking slaves, give them their personal belongings.”

  Magno Shi nodded.

  “Your orders demonstrate your nobility. It shall be done.”

  “I also relieve Liang Zizai and Palace Chief Ling Tao of their duties, for failing to control my son. From now on, you will be in charge of the mines.”

  Magno Shi started again.

  “Me?” the sorcerer asked in disbelief. “I know magic, medicine and alchemy, not mining.”

  “You know how to manage your subordinates, which is more than I can say for Ling Tao.” And I cannot spare any of the other elders. The preparations to receive the envoys from the empire are still unfinished, Liang Zhiqiang thought.

  “It is not a complicated task. Promote some slaves to foremen and summon a few outstanding disciples as new supervisors.”

  Magno Shi’s hand drifted toward the pocket where he kept his flowers.

  “Yes… I think I can do that. But the mineral production…”

  “I will not be demanding this month.”

  “That is all I ask, Sect Master. It will be an honor to carry out this task.”

  Liang Zhiqiang fixed his gaze once more on the man lying on the cot. No one deserved such a fate, not even a slave who had intended to escape. He gathered a small amount of phasic essence at the tip of his index finger and stabbed it into the man’s heart.

  The man opened his mouth, spilling drool… and sang.

  “If the king grows restless, let me go in silence.”

  The words took Zhiqiang by surprise and halted his hand. A grave mistake. Soon, the rest of the dying men began to sing as well.

  “Let me go…” they repeated in chorus. “In silence… in silence… If his hounds should seek us, let me go by morning. If they have already found us…”

  Liang Zhiqiang felt a deep sense of disgust wash over him. He released the small amount of phasic essence gathered in his finger and shattered the heart into four pieces. The slave died instantly, but that did not silence the other voices.

  “To the night that swears calm, beyond the moon that feeds the distance…” Most of them had bitten their tongues and were beginning to spit reddish foam with every word. “Silence as I leave, silence and fear… Silence and fear…”

  Zhiqiang swung his arm horizontally and personally extinguished the lives of all the supervisors.

  He turned to look at Magno Shi, but his old friend appeared just as confused as he was. Zhiqiang lowered his gaze. The slave whose heart he had destroyed had closed his eyes. His expression was calm, almost serene, but he had certainly not died in peace.

  Liang Zhiqiang withdrew his hand and shook off the droplets of blood. In his youth he had chosen the path of cultivation instead of the path of magic, and now, more than a century after that decision, he knew he had made the correct choice.