Exchanging glances, the squad members scattered to set up their tents, and soon disappeared inside them.
Hadjar stayed outside, smoking his pipe and looking at the ancient ruins. This city was older than any city in the Seven Empires. It was amazing to consider how many centuries it had endured. He imagined people who knew nothing of gunpowder or flying ships walking through the streets. In those days, practitioners, cultivators, and mortals had all lived together. Such a coexistence had been possible back then. After the Last War, the Wastelands had become too dangerous for mere mortals.
“Ha-a-a-dja-aar…”
He jumped a little and looked around. This wasn’t his first time hearing mysterious, ghostly voices calling out to him. Listening to them had never ended well for him.
“You don’t hear anything. You don’t hear anything,” He whispered to himself.
Someone, or something, tugged at the edge of his tattered clothes, making him shudder with unease. He turned around just in time to see a flickering light disappear. It hovered a few feet above the ground before it turned away into a narrow street.
“Ha-a-a-dja-aar!” The voice was like the rustle of the grass or the whisper of the wind — light, elusive, and almost inaudible.
“I’m sure I’ll regret this later,” Hadjar said to himself, shook the ash out of his pipe, and then followed the light.
Together, they wandered the dark streets of the ancient city. They walked down the wide roads, sometimes stopping to let monsters and Spirits pass by them. They walked under dilapidated bridges and passed through buildings that had collapsed long ago, until, at last, they came to a structure that appeared untouched by time. It stood almost in the center of the city, as proud and majestic as ever. It wasn’t far from the ruins of the royal Palace.
Hadjar stared at the unfamiliar script etched into the stone above the central arch. The neural network helped him decipher it.
“House of Derger, the God of War,” he read and swore.
This was the first temple he’d ever seen.
The heavy gates swung open and the light darted inside.
Chapter 711
H e crossed the threshold and immediately felt something heavy pressing down on his shoulders. The pressure he experienced wasn’t like the usual density of an atmosphere filled with power. What he was feeling right now wasn’t like anything he’d ever felt before. He tried to summon the Black Blade, but it didn’t budge. However, despite the pressure all around him, nothing was really hindering his movements. Upon realizing that, he turned around and calmly walked back outside. Once he was outside, he saw that he was holding his trusty sword in his right hand.
“That’s interesting,” he commented idly and went back inside.
The moment his foot crossed the threshold, the Black Blade began to ripple. Hadjar felt a very painful stab to his heart and fell to his knees. Coughing, he spat out blood all over the scarlet floor decorated with white hieroglyphs. Dozens of candles burned atop tall, red columns whose bases resembled the pommels of battlestaves. It was as if someone had made a bunch of giant replicas of the weapons, stabbed them into the ground, and then lit them.
Whoever had done that had also dusted the statues that represented the God of War’s generals. These giants, their faces hidden beneath demonic masks and armed with various weapons, towered over the temple’s visitors. If his memory served him right, there were a total of nineteen generals, but only eighteen pedestals were currently occupied. Next to the empty one was a pile of black stones.
It was easy enough to guess whose statue should’ve been standing there. At the end of a long corridor full of columns, surrounded by burning candles, Derger sat on his throne. The God of War. One of the gods that had created the Black General. The statue wasn’t overly large, but it was very skillfully made. It was so lifelike that he could’ve almost sworn a real person was sitting in front of him. The clothes, although made from marble, looked as if they were being blown back by the wind, revealing the god’s well-sculpted muscles. Hadjar could distinguish every pore and scar that adorned the warrior’s body. Derger had a thick beard, one so skillfully chiseled that every hair on it was visible. The God’s hands, arranged in the traditional salute of the Land of the Immortals, looked like a formidable weapon.
“Weapons are forbidden in here if you don’t wear the God’s seal.”
Hadjar turned to the voice. The small, yellow light that had brought him to the temple grew larger in front of him and changed shape, turning into a portal from which a tall, stately man emerged. He wore robes that were such a deep and dazzling blue that the skies would’ve envied their color and ladies of any court would’ve sold their souls for a scrap of that cloth. His face was more handsome than any bard could ever describe. No painting or sculpture could’ve done justice to his fine features. His hair, softer and finer than even the best silk on the market, was tied back in a bun with a strap of leather that radiated more power than Traves’ armor.
It wasn’t merely a simple item, but an actual artifact. As were his scabbard, sandals, and even his earrings made from a metal unknown to Hadjar. The man was fully clothed in artifacts, the combined power of which was enough to destroy ‘The Holy Sky’ School and half of Dahanatan along with it.
Hadjar didn’t sense the man’s power, which meant that it was beyond his perception. Just like the splinter from Ash’s staff. Because of this, he was glad that he could feel the power of the artifacts, at least. A thought crossed his mind: maybe the stranger had selected these clothes and accessories to impress him, but he immediately discarded that idea.
“You’re a priest,” Hadjar guessed and took a few steps back.
The doors slammed shut behind him, preventing him from leaving. The temple was suddenly plunged into gloomy darkness. The shadows struggled with the flames and hurried to hide behind the columns and statues.
The stranger laughed. Even his laugh was beautiful. Hadjar was certain that he was a human, not something else. But, by the High Heavens, was nature really capable of creating such perfection? It probably wasn’t. He was most likely so handsome because the stranger’s level of cultivation was very high.
“No, wanderer, I’m not a priest.” The man shook his head. Coming to stand next to Hadjar, he knelt and bowed to the statue of Derger. “I’m just a novice who was sent to check out this abandoned temple.”
He got up, dusted off his clothes, and sat down on the floor in the lotus position.
He held out his hand, and a bowl of wine appeared in it.
Hadjar guessed that the man had come from the Land of the Immortals, a mythical place inhabited by incredibly powerful beings that not many people believed in.
The stranger pointed across from him.
“Sit down. Let’s talk.”
Hadjar paused, then did so. Wearing his old, tattered clothes, his best shoes wrapped in rags, without even a scabbard or a sword on his belt, he looked like a beggar. Admittedly, even the Emperor would’ve looked like a peasant next to this man. But Hadjar didn’t care. He wasn’t impressed by the beauty of the novice’s clothes, but by the high quality of his artifacts. They were clearly above even the Divine level.
“Hadjar Darkhan,” the novice drawled. “I’m sorry that I cannot offer you any wine. If you take even one sip, you’ll sleep for a week, or go to your forefathers before your time.”
“I had expected to die the moment I set foot inside this temple. The gods and I are not on the best of terms. You can ask your master about it. Maybe he’ll be glad to see me sooner rather than later.”
The novice burst out laughing, spilling wine everywhere. Hadjar dodged the droplets as if they were poisonous acid.
“You and the gods are not on the best of terms?” The novice’s laugh was so deep that the flames of the farthest candles flickered. “Don’t flatter yourself, wanderer. The gods don’t care about someone like you. Hundreds of thousands of the original Darkhan’s descendants roam this world. Do you know how many of them
think that they’re the arbiters of fate and are looking for the Seventh Heaven? More than you can count, I assure you.”
Hadjar narrowed his eyes at the man.
“But-”
“The fairies?” The novice guessed. “I think even ordinary mortals have stories about them… About how they were suddenly saved at the last second by something. Maybe a person received a mysterious hint, which they attributed to a fairy… Or maybe an arrow meant to pierce their heart hit an old medallion instead… Or maybe they slipped and fell not on a blade, but near it…”
Hadjar had heard such stories before. Moreover, he had a couple of them himself, just in case he ever got drunk and had to entertain a crowd.
“The fairies are numerous. They are the only ones among the Eternals who have the same or even greater fertility than mortals. Alas, bound by the laws of the Heavens and the Earth, they have to serve the mortals forever. To protect them as much as possible, to give them hints, and, of course, help the Seventh Heaven a little in order to make sure that what is written in the Book of Thousands comes to pass.”
“What are you talking-”
“Did you really think you were the only one who has a fairy?” The novice’s bright eyes flashed with amusement. “You aren’t that special, Hadjar Darkhan.”
Chapter 712
T he novice stuck out his pinky and drank from the bowl. With a haughty smile on his lips, he waited for Hadjar to digest what he’d just heard.
In Hadjar’s opinion, the information he’d just received had helped him put a lot of things into perspective. For example, the fact that it wasn’t just a coincidence that bad things had begun to happen to him after his fairy had been killed. Both Helmer and the Spirit of the Kurkhadan oasis had tried to convince him that it had been a good thing. However, bad luck had followed him ever since.
“You shouldn’t just blindly believe everyone you meet, young man,” the novice said in the manner of a teacher scolding their student. “Especially Spirits and demons.”
“You-”
“Know? Yes. I know exactly who caused the deaths of your previous guardians.”
“But-”
“How? She told me,” he said and pointed over Hadjar’s shoulder.
Hadjar spun around just in time to see a tiny face fade away. It was the same fairy that had appeared before him at the waterfall in the land of the Dah’Khasses. She’d said a lot of unpleasant things to him at the time.
“We’ll talk to her later,” the novice’s voice became harsh. “No one has the right to interfere with the freedom of choice that mortals have. The desperation with which she tried to manipulate you-”
Hadjar immediately remembered South Wind’s words.
“How can I be sure that you’re not trying to manipulate me?”
The novice spread his arms out. “I freely admit that I’m going to do just that.”
Hadjar raised both eyebrows, taken aback by the man’s honesty.
“To be perfectly honest with you,” the novice continued, sipping some more wine, “I’m not happy that I had to come to this dump and worship a statue that hasn’t been visited for ages... I already have plenty of things to do in the Land of the Immortals.”
“Then why did you come here?”
“The Land of the Immortals doesn’t really differ from other countries, wanderer. Imagine your commander or king or whoever telling you to go and keep watch over some hill or whatever. Would you refuse?”
“Maybe,” Hadjar said evasively.
“Maybe,” the novice repeated. “But the threat of being flogged by the Abbot of the monastery for my disobedience… Well, wasting a couple of weeks to get to... this…” he said with disdain, “was a better option than that.”
Hadjar was surprised to hear that it had taken an Immortal several weeks to get to the Wastelands. How long would it have taken a Lord or a Nameless? A couple of years? Just how enormous was this world?
“Wait a minute,” he said. “If you came here just to visit this temple, then... why did you bother learning my name and life story?”
The novice took a long gulp from his bowl. He wiped his lips with a white napkin made from a material that looked like it cost more than the entire Imperial fleet combined and smiled broadly.
“Clever little bugger, aren’t you? However, the others were older-”
“Older?”
“When you consider everything I know about you, you being almost thirty is pretty impressive. Not many cultivators, Hadjar Darkhan, can boast about having had as many adventures as you. Of course, such an interesting life attracts attention.”
Hadjar studied the novice, but couldn’t guess what he was really feeling. He was friendly one moment, then amused, then humble, and then arrogant a second later. Whoever was sitting in front of Hadjar had perfectly mastered the art of negotiation, and therefore, scheming as well. He hated scheming…
“It just doesn’t add up, novice. First you claim that the gods don’t care about me, and then you say that someone’s interested in my fate.”
“That’s right, someone!” The novice exclaimed. “The Seventh Heaven is a huge place, Hadjar. Of all the worlds, only the Spirit World is equally large.”
Hadjar paid special attention to the word ‘worlds’. Plural.
“Oh, you didn’t know?” The novice smiled as if he knew a secret Hadjar would never discover. “Let me show you…”
He held out a finger, the tip of which lit up with turquoise light. Hadjar knew that what he was looking at was energy, but he didn’t feel any sort of disturbance in the World River. It was as if... the novice wasn’t drawing power from the World River he was familiar with, but from another… It was annoying… and frightening.
The Immortal, not paying attention to Hadjar’s inner turmoil, drew some diagrams in the air. Overlapping circles, to be precise. In the center of each was a hieroglyph so complex that Hadjar couldn’t even comprehend it. After glancing at one of them, even for just a moment, he felt his soul tremble. If he’d stared at it for a fraction of a second longer, he would’ve gone mad.
The novice pointed at the centermost circle. “You and I are here.”
“And the Land of the Immortals?”
The novice smiled again, acting as if he’d anticipated this question from the very beginning. Hadjar suddenly realized what this young man reminded him of. A fox that was very happy about the fact that its prey was heading into a trap.
“That’s here.” The Immortal nodded and then pointed at the smallest of the circles, located right under the one they were ‘in’. “This is the Demon World. The smallest one of them all. But, alas, as you can see, it touches our own, and-”
“Crosses over into it,” Hadjar finished. He could see that the circle that represented the Demon World partially overlapped with the one that represented their world. As a result, there was a small, shared territory between them.
“And that’s why people are more likely to encounter demons than gods,” the novice said with a sigh. “Now, look here. This is the World of the Gods, the Seventh Heaven. And that’s the Spirit World.”
He pointed at two more circles. Unlike the Demon World, they didn’t intersect with the Mortal World, only barely touching it. The Spirit World, which overlapped a great deal with the World of the Gods, was separated from the Mortal World.
“This is a very loose map of reality.” The novice waved his hand and the drawings wavered, then completely disappeared. “But I assure you, such knowledge isn’t available even in the Dragon Lands.”
Hadjar wasn’t surprised to learn that the novice knew what kind of beings were really the masters of the seven human Empires. Moreover, the size of the circles… The World of the Gods was almost four times bigger than the Mortal one. Wherever he was now... it wasn’t an ordinary planet.
“What do you want from me?” Hadjar asked bluntly.
“What do I want?” The novice arched his right eyebrow. “Absolutely nothing. I assure you, many of my kind
would consider it humiliating to have to speak to a mortal. But I don’t care how I spend the night at this temple — alone or in someone else’s company. I will even admit that having company is better and-”
“Stop that.” Hadjar interrupted him. “You lured me to this temple. You told me about the structure of reality. You’re sitting here, drinking wine, and talking to me. You know my story. You know about fairies. So get to the point already. What do you want from me?”
All kindness and foolishness instantly disappeared from the Immortal’s expression. The person sitting before Hadjar was no longer a handsome young man, but a beast that could destroy him with its gaze alone if it so pleased.
“Know your place, mortal!” His booming voice made the walls shake. “You are nothing but a speck of dust in my eye! You-”
“Enough already!” Hadjar shouted, interrupting the young man for a second time. There was no fear or doubt in his azure eyes. “Enough with the bullshit. What. Do. You. Want?”
Chapter 713
T he storm subsided, taking the beast with it and leaving behind the handsome young man who continued to sip his wine.
“You really aren’t a coward, are you?” He winked.
“You’re an Immortal.” Hadjar grinned. “The laws of the Heavens and the Earth apply to you. You can’t hurt me.”
“The laws of the Heavens and the Earth…” The novice sighed. “Sometimes, those are really annoying… But, you know… there are exceptions to any law.”
Hadjar frowned. He didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking.
“Tell me, Hadjar Darkhan, did I force you to come here?”
“You didn’t.”
“Did I force you to cross the threshold, or did you do it of your own free will?”
“I decided to do so on my own.”
Dragon Heart: Land of The Enemy. LitRPG Wuxia Series: Book 8 Page 31