What character was it? Huxian asked out of curiosity.
The corpse’s shadow shook its head. “I can’t remember. My memory is fading. With the jade piece gone, I will become like the others, forever chained by karma to this mountain, reliving my life like the rest of them.”
When he finished these words, the man’s shadow drifted out of the corpse and joined the writhing black mass. A thick black chain latched on to it, and the corpse, which had been immune to the shadow’s power, disappeared. Huxian had little doubt that it would join the rest of the monks in that repeating reality.
Well, Huxian thought, it’s a start. He trotted through the shadows, carefully avoiding the chains that lunged at him and approached the membrane that separated light and darkness. Then, his eyes glowing golden, he jumped through the membrane. It tore open and let him through. To his surprise, he wasn’t on the west side of the mountain, but the east side. The same place he’d entered it.
What a strange place, he thought, tracing his steps back toward the east. Somehow his steps were quicker as he journeyed toward the half sun on the horizon. His shadow, shivering from its long imprisonment, trotted behind him, safe and sound.
Chapter 22: Shattered Lands
The platform Cha Ming stood on jolted as it started its slow descent down Bastion Wall. He could hear the creaks and groans of powerful cables as they moved through a gearbox at the top. It wasn’t a piece of runic equipment; it was a more mundane contraption crafted from enchanted materials. Clever gear arrangements slowed his descent toward a plain building below.
Alongside him stood a few other strong men. Mining was a common occupation in Bastion. They were bone-forging cultivators; using their powerful bodies, they would be able to carry heavy stones mere mortals could only leave behind. Their picks and shovels would be put to good use, and they wouldn’t tire like other men did.
Broken cliffs and precariously placed boulders loomed over the canyon they saw from the moving platform. Despite the height of the wall—hundreds of feet tall at the very least—it was tiny compared to the jagged cliffs that loomed above them. Their broken edges weaved in unpredictable patterns, making it so only the nearest four miles were visible to the naked eye. As for soul force, that was just as useless. The dense ores contained in the rock formations blocked out any probing Cha Ming tried. Even a transcendent soul wasn’t strong enough to break through this barrier.
“We’re almost there,” a man with a booming voice said. “Get off in a neat and orderly fashion. I’ll beat whoever shoves his way through.”
He was a city guardsman, and his job was to operate the lift. Cha Ming was almost certain the man didn’t know his identity or cultivation, for if he did, would he dare utter those words? Still, he nodded in acceptance, and the moment the lift clunked onto the rocks below, he walked out just like the others.
On their way from the platform to the building at the base of the wall, they were greeted by a second guard, who escorted them to their destination. The first guard hooked the elevator to a large bin of ore. The platform heaved as a group of men and demons pushed a large wheel. The men were slaves, body cultivators as well. The black markings on their foreheads caused a spark of rage to ignite in Cha Ming’s heart, but he smothered it mercilessly. As much as he cared about their plight, acting on it would likely blow his cover.
The building turned out to be a multi-purpose facility that combined guardhouse, storehouse, and tavern. There were guards aplenty resting at long tables drinking wine or ale, though compared to the ones he’d seen inside the city, they were lax and undisciplined. Their guide ignored those men and took Cha Ming’s group past the mess tables to a counter at the back.
“New recruits, I see,” a surly, gray-haired woman with half-moon spectacles said in a nasal voice. “Are they aware of the rules?”
“They’ve each brought one storage treasure,” the guard said.
“Very good,” the woman said. “Have them place the item on the scale.”
He was as confused as the others, but he stepped forward to go first. He placed his storage ring—a much finer device than the bags of holding the others had brought, and the number 500 went up on the device.
“Contents?” the woman asked.
Cha Ming looked at her name tag before replying. “I have a hammer focus and some spirit stones in there, Miss Ge,” he said. His other treasures, he’d kept inside the Clear Sky World.
“Please pour them onto the scale and retrieve your ring,” Miss Ge said, just as expressionless as before.
Cha Ming did as he was told. He dropped a small crystal weighing three hundred jin onto the table—hammer focuses didn’t weigh nearly as much as the spiritually infused hammers—and another two hundred jin of top-grade spirit stones. That rose eyebrows. “And why, sir, are you here if you possess such a fortune?”
“Punishment,” Cha Ming said nonchalantly.
“Ah,” Miss Ge said. “One of those. Very well, take your things, and take these.” She placed four storage rings onto the table, then thought for a moment before placing a golden storage ring there. It was much more ornate than the others. “Keep the tools inside the ring, but don’t lose them. If you do, you’ll have to pay a fine or work until you pay off your debt. I expect to get the gold ring back, but the small ones only have to last three ore deliveries.”
Cha Ming nodded. He took the five storage rings and was surprised to see that the golden one, though only possessing a small storage space, was exceptionally stable. Inside, he found an initial-core-grade pickaxe. The
