Long ago, when the world was borne of stillness, and the boundless abyssal oceans were devoid of motion, an arm fell.

  Legends say that this was the final act of the Architect. In his toil, the final rule he gave to the lands was this argent limb. Granting us revolution. The forged world born of stillness shifted, and propagation arose.

  And so, it flourished into a civilisation that grew the world further, finishing His project.

  In the centre of the world, the first city, a kiln, was formed. A man with wrinkles on his face struggled as clay rose from the earth to form a wall. His arms shivered, and his linen clothes were drenched in sweat.

  For days and nights, he had toiled with the powers gifted to him. So when the Firstborne first felt the limitations of his body, when his bones creaked and exhaustion slurred his thoughts, he could not understand. When he asked the young and the old, the jubilant and weary, the living and dead, they all gave him the same answer.

  “My King, you have grown old.”

  But when he told them all that it felt like yesterday that he was born, they had chuckled at him. When he told of the old sweeper of his court, he received some understanding.

  “You have worked every single day and night without rest, so your mind doesn’t process the passage of time. In my youth, I didn’t have much to do, so it felt excruciatingly slow. The older I got, the faster it went by. When I had a family, I even forgot my own age.” With each sweep, he recounted his life. But even soon he stopped with that, facing towards the Firstborne.

  “My King, you have done enough for us. I want you to leave this place, and travel once more. When you understand the passing of time, and realise what you want to do, then come back. Don’t worry, I will always be sweeping.”

  “You must… Be aware.”

  The Firstborne relented, but soon his own people forced him to cease his work. He had done more than enough for a single lifetime.

  And for the first time in a while, free from the burdens and responsibilities as a leader, the flow of time felt excruciatingly slow.

  This was the Ode to the Testament of Time.

  Staring at the night sky that glistened with auroras shining from between the silver shards of the dull eye., It was this ancient tale that Shuren recalled when he realised that before he knew it, months had passed, and it had already been a year since he’d join the Seven Clouds Sect. It truly only felt like a few days since he first joined.

  His hair swayed with the cold breeze, with his hands cushioning the back of his head as he lay on his flying nimbus. The scent of the breeze felt slightly different, compared to Cloud City. This time, he had traversed east towards the borders of the Aegean Continent, known as the land that weaved routes across the ocean, making up most of the sea routes for the entire world.

  Dan Zi made many poems throughout his travels across the world, and often mentioned awareness of one’s self, referring back to the Testaments.

  It was why Shuren found Dan Zi to be his favourite poet. Most poets he heard of nowadays used it as a vocation to supplement their Lexis Path, a way to get stronger. Dan Zi’s records came from a time before the Enlightenment Era, a mortal who had traversed the lands rather than stay in a bubble living as an esteemed scholar.

  Right now I’m too busy, but perhaps one day I could follow his steps and see the world free and unfettered by my responsibilities. For now, accomplishing this missive for Elder Spiritweaver will give me a huge opportunity.

  He recalled back to the discussion. That it was a missive similar to the one he did over six months ago, where they received intel from their double agent in the demonic sect. It was to intercept another smuggling route, but more importantly to find the information found in the carriage.

  This time, they were to observe the carriage’s route, and if their enemies were identified to be weak, to kill them all and find the intel in the carriage. Supposedly, the double spy had created some hints towards accessing the sect.

  The reason why the spy was struggling to give enough vital information, was because they had been forced to take a Restriction Oath. Even just writing down on paper anything that leaks the sect would cause them to die.

  So one could understand that just leaking routes of some minor random activities in the sect was already difficult as it was. It had to be done in a roundabout method, and even then it couldn’t completely nullify or avoid the effect of the karmic centipedes they had been forced to ingest as a disciple.

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Shuren raised his palm at the night sky, the luminescence of auroras dancing between his fingers.

  “Grains of sand consecrated within a palm, yet the breeze scatters wealth across the lands. Hands outstretched grasping for alms, euphoria our diversion so ignorant we stand.”

  “What does that even mean?” Aerestia asked, hearing Shuren’s musings.

  “He’s trying to sound sophisticated, fancies himself a poet. Just a jumble of words,” Ming chimed in from above the nearby tree, standing his guard as a scout.

  “You’re going to literally eat those words if you ever come across a Lexis Pathfinder, Ming.” Shuren raised his upper body, leaving a hand to lean on the grass. Facing Aerestia he answered, “It’s a saying from an ancient poet, Dan Zi. I believe what he tried to convey was to be aware of what we hold within our hands before we lose it.”

  He continued to gaze at the night sky, fleeting memories glimpsed in his mind. “Too soon are we ready to sacrifice what we have for what we want, but only afterwards do we realise what we wanted was what we sacrificed.”

  “This is the nature of poems. The emotions they felt, the circumstances they faced, and the life they lead, even with a biography it’s hard to understand the truth behind them. Perhaps you would get a completely different meaning behind their words.”

  Though Ming swayed his leg in the air as he lay on the branch atop the tree. He could only sit with a light smile.

  “Hmm, I can somewhat understand what you mean.” Aerestia pet the head of a sleeping Ash Tiger cub, gazing towards Shuren. “In our city, we also had many poems we sang to children. I remember my ma scaring me with an old lullaby whenever I had fights with other kids.”

  Ming interrupted with a chuckle. “There’s no way you were out there brawling with other kids. You wouldn’t even step on an ant!”

  Shuren also raised an eyebrow when he heard those words.

  “What?! People grow and change, you know. This is from a long time ago when I didn’t know any better,” Aerestia retorted with a frown, refusing to take mockery. “I’m sure you’ve changed from when you were kids as well!”

  Shuren gave a wry smile.

  “Let’s hear it then. Can’t be any scarier than the Drakkenyorne we were told about in Cloud City when we were kids,” Ming prodded with curiosity.

  “Hmph, it’s even scarier than your ancient primeval beasts. Those things will always be dealt with by powerful cultivators.” Aerestia shrugged off Ming’s words, shuffling her legs on her small cloud to face towards the direction of Ming and Shuren.

  “Do any of you know what is a true death?”

  Shuren widened his eyes as he recalled a saying. “Dan Zi had a saying on this. The first death is when your path ceases to exist. The second is to be buried in the earth. The final death is when your name is forgotten by the world.”

  She took a moment to reply. “That’s… an interesting way to think. But the final death isn’t scary because you would’ve already moved on in the Genesis River.”

  “Ma said if I kept getting into fights and causing trouble, that I would grab the attention of the devouring man. It loves to play with its food, and whoever causes a ruckus would gather its attention. It comes in the shape of someone you grow close to, and would eat the world’s memories. In other words, everyone and everything would forget you, even if you still exist.” With a smile, she recalled an old memory. “I remember my brother pulled a really bad prank by pretending he didn’t know who I was. My da really gave him an earful for that one.”

  “In other words, akin to a living death. Your name would be forgotten but you would still exist to deal with the misery of it. That is indeed scary.” With a nod of his head, Shuren continued. “Your brother truly pulled a mean joke.”

  “Eh, honestly sounds kind of fun, almost freeing in a sense,” Ming chimed in.

  A second cub climbed on Aerestia’s shoulder fidgeting with the glowing charm on her cloak as she chuckled, “Honestly I was scared more of the beast in a man’s clothing. Imagine a person you grew close to turning out to be a demon. My ma even gave it a name. She called it the Heaven Devourer.”

  Shuren’s hand trembled, clenching a tuft of grass blades. “Don’t say that name in public. It’s blasphemous.”

  “What do you mean?” Aerestia asked, ignorant of the weight behind the words.

  “Never attribute weakness to the Heavens. It is Immortal and Celestial, granting us the power to tread upon our Paths. It’s impossible for a person to hurt, let alone devour it. If you mention such a name to the wrong person, they could take immense offense at your words.”

  Shuren thought back the knowledge he had learnt in the Granxian Continent.

  “In fact, this very monolith that stands on the horizon is named after such a beast. The title Unhallowed comes from an ancient demon that caused chaos in the world.” Shuren recounted an old tale.

  Ming said nothing, but scoffed where he sat.

  “What makes our ancestors so great is that when they reach higher levels, such as to the level of being an Immortal Reverend, they’re able to create new lands with their own power. They give back to the world their power, and when they die, their corpse turns into a realm. It could be as small as a city, or even as large as a continent. This is the beautiful cycle of the righteous cultivators.”

  “But, the demonic cultivators, especially the strongest ones, they are known as Immortal Renegades. They take away from the world, without giving anything back. The moniker of the Unhallowed was given to the being who had ended the Third Grand Era. And a unified world instead turned into a war that spread across every realm, with not a single place living in peace.”

  Shuren had a deep sigh. “You’re fine saying it to us, and your folks. But when you enter the world of cultivators, you shouldn’t say such things.”

  “O-Okay. I won’t,” Aerestia grumbled, grabbing the cub on her shoulder that had now gained more weight and size, placing it on her lap. If she had more resources, they would be growing much faster, and was most of the reason she gave a hand to Shuren on this missive. “You really confuse me sometimes.”

  “What does that mean?” Shuren questioned.

  “Usually you’re stern and strict, but then sometimes you’re s-”

  The charm on her cloak began to rattle. Likewise, the one in Shuren’s robe did the same as well.

  Ming jumped down from the tree, landing with a thud. Stretching his neck he looked at his team members. The crude charms he’d made that allowed them to stay camouflaged had finally alerted them.

  “Heads up. Our target’s finally appeared.”