The sun was reaching its apex, and the sky was becoming saturated with white light blinding the eyes of those weaker than a mortal army.

  Those foolish enough to look up became flash-blind for a moment. Groans and curses filled the man-made valley. Hands shot up to cover their owner’s eyes. Then dark took the sky, a shadow covering the disciple as if the sun was not there to begin with, flying boats moved at their owner’s command. The three great vessels shielded the eyes of their disciples, leaving the competitor’s disciples to fend for themselves.

  All six of the Elders stepped forward. The lady from Blue Moons Mountain made the greatest haste ahead of the others, sticking her hand out toward the drop-off of the cliff. Light beginning to dance off her in the shadows.

  The Drifting Stream’s two representatives were not far behind her, the Seventh Elder was second to the cliff’s edge. And the Mission Hall leader was at his back. They, too, lifted their hands. Light of different qualities and different colors spun from their bodies.

  The other three were not far behind, the youngest of the six walking forward was the young man in the Blue Moons Mountain robes. He was only slightly ahead of the two Elders from the Two Rivers Fort in the yellow garb. They did not move fast or slow but made themselves punctually late together.

  As the six approached the edge, light dancing about them flew out, scattering off their hands. It came to a sudden stop at the drop that led to the Ocean. The light striking the space in the air, just off the precipice. One more step and the representatives would fall into the pit below to meet with crystal spires of salt.

  Hao walked forward along with the rest of the group, watching closely as the air began to crackle like a steak on an open fire. Space tore, a rip appearing the reality. A vertical line, white and black, purple and yellow, colors vibrating as the line grew to a side-wise eye staring out at him. From an eye to an egg, a hole ripped into existence on top of the very air they breathe.

  “Hurry, get up here, get into a group. Organize yourselves!” The Seventh Elder yelled, he meant his words only for those he was guardian for, but the other two groups of the disciples acted accordingly.

  As the hole became round, the Elders slowed, from egg to sphere, sweet smells filling the air, the smell of a late fall harvest, and berries falling free from the bush on their own.

  Before the disciple could react, they had to turn their heads fast. The young man at the side of the Lady Elder of the Blue Moons Mountain toppled, falling on his side towards her. She caught him with one hand. A forward-facing hand still shooting out light, like it drained nothing from her.

  When the hole was complete and shone its dozen colors, it ate and shared energy with the air around itself, the Elder stopped, turning slow. The Two Rivers Forts Elders leaned against each other with a tremble. I’ve never seen an Immortal sweat, not like that. Hao thought, getting an up-close look as the Seventh Elder came dashing over, the Mission Hall Elder bringing back a shake in his fingers and breath.

  The Seventh Elder helps the Mission Hall Lead sit into a meditation posture, World Energy disappearing around them. “You will enter the Secret Realm shortly. Know this, the Mid-Summer is a harsh realm, harsher than most. Its sky alone is a battlefield, as it is summer inside. The risks are not unrewarded. There are many things inside considered treasures, herbs, and beasts born from the Realm’s nature. There has been a rumor in the past of Artifacts and a legacy, but no such thing has been found, and no information gathered,” the Seventh Elder said, looking over the disciple, tugging on his beard.

  He seemed to reach for the blade at his side, but he had no such thing on his body. The Seventh Elder cleared his throat and pulled his hand away before starting again. “There are no rules inside, remember that. It’s better to be ruthless than dead, but I ask you to try to be honorable. There would be no humans if all mortal life in the world if they all acted like beasts…”

  “Seventh Elder…” A disciple interrupted him, pulling the ire and eyes of the crowd of blue-robed disciples.

  “What?”

  “Can we—remain here? I mean not enter—I mean.” The disciple lowered themself, shrinking, hiding what little face they had, if they had any now.

  The Seventh Elder, unexpectedly, did not anger. He was not a man of long temper, but his face stayed steady. “Look back up here, at me, all of you. Anyone with True Qi cannot enter. Only disciples in reclamation can. You will have to fend for yourselves inside. You cannot leave freely once you go in. The gate will be beyond your reach once you enter, and you will not see the outside until the third moon appears in the sky, Heralding Winter. Now is your last chance to back out." The Seventh Elder had to catch his breath.

  The nervous jitter was seemingly contagious: one, then two, then four picked at their fingernails. Some people from all three sects stood back, many stuck staring at the portal in dread and others in awe. Hao was staring at the portal as well, but his feet were going forward, not back. He could see Mo Bangcai’s hunting group from the corner of his eye; they took up a large piece of the group that remained, he had seen Bangcai himself yet, covered amongst the numbers.

  “Very well, you enter at your own peril.” The Seventh Elder said. He started walking by the groups of disciples, “Enter as you wish, but your corpses will not be retrieved if you die. Your name will probably be forgotten. But if you come back alive and with riches, carrying Amethysts back for the Sect, you will not be forgotten.” He went to the back of the crowd, sitting back where they had left the Mission Hall Leader behind.

  Hao saw the burning eyes of annoyance as the Elder passed him. No, Elder would appreciate someone showing up covered in dirt, costing the sect face.

  People from the other Sects went forward, alone or in pairs they leaped at the hole in the world. Their bodies and presences disappear. A few tried to enter as groups. But it did not matter, all people were scattered upon entering the Cave World. Hao red so himself, A tear in space is rarely stable. A tear, that means there is more than one?

  The Drifting Streams groups were late to enter and lacked in number, but when they started to enter, there was no hesitation in their steps. Hao slipped into the crowd, blending in until he stopped. He stood, blocking the portal for a moment, up close, he looked at it.

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  If the seasons are kind, I will have six months in here, that is plenty of time to do all I have to. Meiqi, Zhengqi, I will be back, stay safe, the sect will be a better place when I return. Hao leaped forward, being dragged through the emotionless, senseless tunnel. He could only see for a moment until the void swallowed his vision, and he stared down. Down at the crystal spires of salt. They seemed to climb to pierce him. The tunnel was a dozen colors, the spires had one color solid, and true, a deep, daunting blue.

  Hao felt nothing, saw nothing until he landed, his stomach touching grass, finding himself beneath a tree in a forest, the heat from above and below cooking his flesh.

  *

  Outside, as the number of disciples dwindled, the Elders began looking around, first to their fellow Seniors, then to the young and old that remained, covering themselves in their disciple’s robes, hiding from the heat in the sky. When all those who would enter had gone, the Elder stood vigil sharing a piece of the shade themselves.

  Yan Hua Liao stepped forward, watching closely as the portal shrunk slightly before her eyes. “The Next time the Secret Realm opens, I will pay your Sects not to show up. Our sect is the only one that can find use in the Amethyst anymore. My Sect’s disciples might be the only ones with a chance to bring anything of value out,” she said, turning slowly to others. Her voice reverberated on the red stones of the canyon.

  The Seventh Elder expected no less from her. Another unwelcome insult, from an unwelcome voice. She may have well just walked up and smacked the Elders of the other sects.

  “Aha. It is a good offer, Lady Elder. But as we are allies, it is good to help each other. How would our disciple get experience fighting other cultivators? It is too good of an experience for all our disciples, is it not? Lady Elder.” The smaller of the two Elders from the Two Rivers Fort group spoke, a foxish smile not on his face.

  “There is no other such place in the Southern Tip, or even better place anywhere else in the South than the Mid-Summer cave.” The larger one spoke, the saber on his back shaking from the roaring air from his lungs.

  Hua Liao turned sharply the rest of the way, the portal at her back. “Indeed, allies are to help each other. And, of course, you are obligated to teach your disciples, and such an experience in real life and death battle is invaluable.”

  The two Elders from the Two Rivers fort look at each other with great smiles. They cupped their hands, preparing to bow, “For your understanding, I must thank—”

  “I suppose you should speak with the rest of the Elders and your Sect Master to find out which of the two you value more.” Hua Liao said securing the Two Rivers Fort would stay in their corner of the world with just a few words, and doubling the discontent.

  Both of the saber-wielding men from Two Rivers Fort sunk down, their faces hidden by the flying shadow that covered them. The other Elders did not miss it. The smiles that I had were only things of the past now.

  “What of the Drifting Stream Sect?” Hua Liao did a quarter turn, looking at the Seventh Elder. “The Resources dwindle, and the most abundant resource is what our Blue Moon Mountain values most. You sell the Amethyst anyway; they end up with us in time. You can skip the…” She stopped, not sure if the Seventh Elder was even listening to her.

  The Seventh Edler did not turn or bow. If Hao could witness it, he could say there was at least one more Elder in the Drifting Stream with backbone and more than a little pride. Pride in his Sect and himself, able to spew a few righteous words with a sense of piety. Of course, he did not abandon his pettiness.

  “The Drifting Stream used this Secret Realm before your or my birth, since before your Sect was founded, Young Lady Elder of the Blue Moon Mountains!” He spat, pulling his beard to the side as he turned in the same direction.

  “We will continue to use it, well after my death, not only for our disciples but for the Sect as a whole. Resources dwindle, but so do participants. What is there is plentiful to the keened-eyed.” The Seventh Elder said, holding his chest and nose high.

  He moved with a flourish, looking away from her and around at everyone looking at him. All the disciples, the ones of the other Sects as well, were listening to his words. The Drifting Stream was once a place of prestige, it had great fame before this generation and the last sat in the Elder’s seat.

  It was not the greatest of the mightiest, but it stood well against the Diving Crane from the North and his Heaven Treading Sect. The Drifting Stream was power, trust, and looked up to.

  The Seventh Elder looked up at the sky, knowing everyone around was listening. “Besides resources, as a friend said, the experience for our disciples is unparalleled. The strong thrive or fall. The mediocre transform to face greatness or become prey. And the truly weak, not of arm or qi, but of heart, are culled, a sad reality, one we all know.”

  He brought his eyes back down, and scanned them all again, Elder, disciple, friend, and enemy. “But you should know that the weakest of our sect’s disciples are plenty strong compared to some.” The Seventh Elder ended his speech looking at the Two Rivers Fort.

  Hua Liao scoffed, “You are passionate, but do not get carried away. We shall see,” she laughed as she rejoined her resting disciples. The Two Rivers’s disciples sat close to the Blue Moons, a few steps behind them.

  “Are you sure that was a good idea? The Sects in the Regional alliance aren’t exactly on our side anymore,” The Mission Hall Elder said, whispering to the Elder.

  “The Sects in the region make the alliance, of course, they are not on our side anymore, they will always umbrella under the strongest. Why rely on the unreliable?” The Seventh said.

  “Then was it a good idea to antagonize the new strongest, Blue Moons, and not only that but to insult Two Rivers?”

  The Seventh looked between the Hall leader and the two Sabre-wielders. “Ha! Two Rivers will get more rowdy by the year. Their disciples are already making themselves into factions. If they don’t have a civil war within their own walls, they will attack outside their sect. They need someone to kick their legs out from under them.”

  “That doesn’t change the fact they are rising rapidly. And the legs you want to sweep are sturdy.” The Mission Hall Leader stood.

  “The only reason they are rising and have sturdy legs is because they bend their knees and beg for generosity from the Blue Moons Mountain. And, it is not something I want, but if we have to do it…” The Seventh threw his hand to the side, “Most of the region was tame when we were the superpower. Now look at it. The Soaring Sect does as it wishes, killing those that oppose them, and forcing the rest to join their war against the Treading Beast Sect. There were few conflicts back then, and it was finished quickly…” The Seventh said.

  “The last conflict that caused us that position happened because of our Sect.”

  The Seventh Elder turned fast, reaching down to the ground and ripping the Mission Hall Leader up to his feet. “You don’t speak of that, not here, anywhere, ever. That happened within the Sect, and the Sect Master made his justice swift despite the sacrifice.” He said, dropping the Hall Leader.

  “Enough of this. We will wait for the portal to close, then return to the Sect…”

  “Wait.” The Hall Leader grabbed the hem of the Elder’s robe.

  “What is it?”

  “The other representative of the Blue Moons is gone. Did you see him fly up to their ship? I can sense him either.”

  “No…”

  When they both looked across the canyon, they saw Hua Liao smiling while rolling a small marble in her hand. It looked like a ball of chalk, a rough-surfaced pill with an iridescent glow.

  While the Elder of the three present Sects continued the treacherous games they played outside, the inside of the Secret Realm jumped with energy. People began to move. Most struggled to breathe while adjusting to the World Energy, which was different from that outside.