Hao played with the ice, using it as cover as he ran through the forest. Occasionally, a head-sized chunk of ice came crashing down on his saber. He didn’t have to worry much about the noise; the crashing and cracking of the trees under assault hid any sound he could make.

  He was curious how they were holding up, but looking didn’t help, not on a moonless summer night. Hao couldn’t see the treetop well.

  He carried the saber with one hand, leaving the other free. He could have held a light source, but he didn’t. I might need it open. His caution still bordered on paranoia. A piece of him that had remained since he was first brought to the Drifting Stream Sect.

  So he took a moment, placing one of the white spirit stones he had into his mouth. Hao holding the stone between his teeth brought on more fatigue than most of his training.

  A roaming ghost would flee at the sight of the glowing teeth flashing in the darkness. Even the trees seemed to flinch. But that was just the force of the cloud-sized ice fragments of ice crashing onto their canopies.

  When it came to any sort of encounter. Hao was the first to hide his light, trying to use the dark like it was a tool in his robe’s sleeves. But he was nearly as blind as anyone else. If he could see anything, it was only vague silhouettes. The outlines shivered in the cold as his eyes continuously refocused, trying to find light. Green, blue, green, blue. His vision faded until the light was back again.

  Hao relied on a few landmarks to remember the direction of the two other groups. Everything else was intuition. All the effort it took to reach the camp of the Two Rivers Fort disciples felt wasted.

  The yellow-robed men—towering figures of muscle—were still awake. Their camp was even sadder than the Drifting Stream group camp he had just left. They chased spirit stones rolling in the wind, surrounded by the dark, using their sabers like parasols, as Hao did. All just to get a little light while trying to get a fire going again. The cold instantly chilled each spark they got.

  It wasn’t an entirely wasted trip. He got to watch one man lose the stone he was chasing, only to take out and drop another. When he bent over awkwardly to pick it up, a chunk of ice knocked him to the ground. The yellow-robed mountain rolled onto his back, the spirit stone tumbling away. He clamped both hands onto his saber, shielding his vitals, face to neck to groin.

  “Hey!” the giant man called for help while his saber, serving as his only guard, held him down. A tortoise on his shell…

  I don’t think they will have any information to give me. Hao stayed and watched a little longer.

  Given the time, most of the Blue Moons Mountain disciples would be sleeping. They were more orderly. Perhaps they have a lookout to keep an eye on camp. The ice was going to stop falling soon, which would be the end of his cover for his icy footsteps on the crunchy forest floor.

  Morning will be better at this point. I need to cultivate either way. Hao didn’t hold back while eating. When midnight fell, he sat and cultivated until he was frozen to the ground, and then morning came. Once the ground had thawed, he made his way to the Blue Moons Mountain group camp.

  When Hao spotted it in the distance, he found more than he expected. The camp was practically an outpost.

  They found an isolated mound in the forest. Hao wasn’t sure if it was natural or not, but there was a hollow. A cave large enough for all of them to rest. It was built out from the entrance for a fire, with an actual pit built to nest the flame and spread its heat.

  There was more than one not sleeping still, two up keeping watch. One of them was pacing back and forth between the fire and a table. The other, playing catch with himself.

  Hao couldn’t identify or hear the people keeping watch; he was too far away. He wasn’t confident in any sort of approach. But as soon as he heard them speaking, he tossed aside caution, letting the sun fall on him as he slid forward slowly.

  “What about these trial badges?” The man threw a wooden tile up into the air, catching it as it came back down.

  “If you and the other wish to try this Peach-takers trial, do as you please. I want nothing to do with it. Even the badge- keep that thing away from me.” The man with sword-like eyebrows was the other one awake.

  The object that looked like a table in the distance was a tree stump with a map spread over it.

  A map. Are there maps of this place? Hao crept forward a little more to get a better look.

  The man with the tile threw it up and caught it while speaking. “Is senior sure? The first groups of people to arrive in the Mountain zone found them scattered around. There aren’t many, but the weakest in the zone don’t want them. There is a tale about the trial being spread around, too.”

  “All tales are fiction.” The swordsman lifted his head from the map, his eyes scrunched as he turned to his man. The sharp eyes slid past Hao. It felt like a sword stroke across his chest.

  “Tale, how did this tale spread? Do you know how was the source of it?”

  Hao climbed high up a tall tree, looking down at the map. It showed three zones with a series of three gray-painted mountains strewn across the center zone. Above it was a zone of blue, and below it was a zone of orange, the zone he had been presumably walking through. Hao could have updated the map. There was at least one green zone at the end of the orange where I first arrived. But this orange zone is only one-third of the Secret Realm.

  “No, it’s just spreading like a wildfire to anyone near the central mountain.”

  The swordsman turned back. Hao got a chill, his hair standing. Those sharp eyes seemed to see through him as they sweep past again. “It doesn’t matter. No one should stay near the central mountain for too long. And no one should enter that trial. We go back to the mountain, get what I came here for, and then I’ll leave. The polarity flower being in the realm is proof that fate is on my side this year.”

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  “Senior can’t just leave.”

  “Not on my own. I can just have someone outside—”

  A few more of the disciples in white cloaks woke, joining the conversation. The words became a jumbled mess, moving away from things inside the Secret Realm.

  Hao leaped down from the tree, landing lightly. The moment his feet were steady on the ground, he ran, retreating fast and far. He lingered for too long; it wasn’t night any longer. There was an itching feeling that he was being watched.

  Hao already had the information he wanted and more. A gift that was not expected but well received. Not wanting to spend a second day sitting in treetops, he went back to his original path. Seven Colored Steps felt even faster than before. His night of stalking and climbing in the dark naturally improved his footwork. And brought on a different sort of self-awareness.

  There was one more person he had to pass over before reaching the edge of the forest. A single scout in a white cloak. Wow, they operate on a different level, but only Sword-face actually felt intimidating.

  Hao knew it was silly, but he distracted the scout before passing over him—A single pebble striking the man like a fist in the back.

  “Who? Come!” the scout shouted, his face hidden by the good he had up. But his shout with such passion made Hao’s heart a little lighter, passing over the man from the canopies.

  “Up there!” he yelled again. The man followed Hao for a while, his sword pointed out, slowly falling behind.

  Hmm. I was getting ahead of myself. I’m not an assassin or master of stealth, even if one or two people think I am, Hao reminded himself, thanking his foolish action.

  Hao collected himself after the short chase, taking in the forest. The wood grew more beautiful as he reached its edge. The leaves of the trees were turning red mixed with a vibrant golden-orange.

  Beyond the line of trees, people become more abundant. Their bustle dulled the beauty of the world. They had their own strange beauty. But the stomping of feet and arguing made hearing anything but them impossible; they were an endless murmur.

  Hao could see the mountains clearly for the first time, base to tip, without standing in a tree. But he climbed on anyway. One of the last trees in the last before the treeless plain opened.

  Good thing I did this… Hao thought, looking out over the world that was in front of him. For a moment, the bustle of people inside the Secret Realm was drowned away. “Did the world always look like this?” Words escaped him.

  I would have liked to see it when people like me aren’t scouring it…

  Not a river or stream in sight. Not even a puddle sitting in the landscape. The only water in the Secret Realm, from trees of burning orange to the far-off trees of blue, was gathering in the sky.

  Mountains, three of them alone, separate from each other, stretched into the air. Above them, in the sky, clouds swirled endlessly.

  Noon hasn’t even passed yet.

  The tallest of the peaks was dead center of the plains, right in front of him. Its cliffs are steep, and its base, narrow. It was still small compared to the others, which, far off in the distance on either side, could have been mistaken for hills. If not for the rocky formations. They were short, broad-based, and almost smooth. How big are they up close?

  Aren’t the two side mountains the ones that hold amethysts? Why is there an entire camp of the three factions in front of the center mountain? This trial, or are they negotiating?

  Hao pondered for a few seconds, moving back to admiration. The plains were a field of countless colors. The grass went from orange and red to white. Back to the teals and blues, to soft purple and black up to the forest on the other side, opposite of where he stood. Most of the grass below the clouds in the center was green.

  That map Sword-face had was pretty accurate if you know what you’re looking at.

  The leaves matched the grasses, orange leaves were upon the tree which he stood in. And in that forest far off, blue leaves danced on subtle winds.

  Hao tried to memorize what he saw as he climbed down, wishing he could stay and look a while longer. But while he was aging, others were taking stones and getting stronger. The groups below were fragmenting, going off into the smaller groups towards the other two mountains.

  He stepped beyond the trees, the World Energy getting slightly heavier, thickening a nominal amount, stopping Hao in his tracks. What was that? It’s like the forest was just a frame for this central zone. Hao clenched his fist as the clamor of voices came back to him. The contrasting effect of the forest and the mountains kept the majesty of nature as shouting surrounds him.

  Hao made himself smaller going forward. He was going to mix in with the group heading for the mountain, closer to the orange forest side. All three groups were staying on this side of the Secret Realm. The Polarity flower is probably over there.

  Hao joined the group, but no one gave him a second look. He was just another joining the group of disciples heading in that direction. The sound of the people getting louder. But there was one voice that cut through all the noise.

  “Young Master Mo!”

  That name, the way of saying it. It killed Hao’s movement. He felt a jolt hit his head, his eyes shrinking into the dots. It took him a minute to lift his head. He turned to the look, seeing a face, a man holding up his hand and looking left to right. Then it disappeared, walking into the bulk of the crowd that was staying still in front of the central mountain.

  That! No, I have to be mistaken. The person disappeared, mixing in with the crowd that was staying. Even with his strong eyes, fine details were hard to pick apart from hundreds of steps away.

  Hao thought deeply about the faces on the painting that Grandpa He had made. The painting was burned into his mind. He tried to match the face of the one he saw to one of the many swimming below the cliff on the scroll. He didn’t know. Only by going down and checking will I know. And if I’m right, what will I do?

  Hao took one step back in the direction of the crowd when someone grabbed his robe. A smiling man in Drifting Stream robes.

  “Hey, don’t go back. There is no point in playing at being patient anymore. If things come to war, then so be it. Those capable will go back home with more. Those less so won’t have hands to grab a share with. Right, little beggar? Hey, are you a junior brother?”

  Hao bent his neck to look back at the man.

  The man pulled his hand back so fast that he sent himself flying back.

  “Hey, is everything okay back there?” Another man in Drifting Stream robes came over, helping the man to his feet.

  “Ah, yes, that kid just has a face like he is… dead.”

  “Hmm, probably just another person who entered with his hunting team. A sad ambition; They all find a way to meet up in the Secret realm just to watch each other die. Did you ask which sect he came from?”

  “Yes, but he didn’t say. He is wearing more than one robe.” The man pulled himself up with help. “They are in pieces. Why? Do you think he is out for revenge? Look, he is looking for someone.” The man pointed at Hao, who was turning his head back and forth as he walked toward the crowd.

  “Nope, it doesn’t matter to us anymore. Let’s just get out of here. We will meet with a larger Drifting Stream group over at Mother Mountain.”

  Hao unconsciously checked over his appearance as he walked towards the crowd. Each step he took was methodical, his five senses working madly as he searched.