Since fleeing bloodied from Wangyue Tower, Jiang Wang had not slept a single full night. So this sleep was uncommonly long and deep.
He dreamed many dreams. He dreamed of dominating the Sword-Discussion Platform, of cultivation advancing a thousand li in a single day. He dreamed of ten thousand li of open sky, five streaks of light racing swift beyond compare. Five streaks...
He woke.
He sat up in silence, leaning against the headboard, unable to tell whether what had surged through him was a spasm of the heart or grief.
He shook his head and gathered himself.
Outside the window, the sky had already darkened into night. And the dormitory still held only himself.
Jiang Wang frowned.
Du Yehu going on a drinking binge for days and nights was perfectly normal. But Ling He had always been disciplined and rule-abiding. He would never stay out overnight.
The Outer Court dormitories of Fenglin Dao Academy were rows of adjoining single-story buildings. Jiang Wang threw on his robe and stepped outside. The corridor felt inexplicably cold.
Jiang Wang called out to a figure passing by. "Fellow disciple, have you seen Senior Brother Ling He?"
"Ling He? Haven't seen him." The voice was flat, mechanical.
Even as the words came, the figure shook its head.
Bang!
The head simply snapped off, fell to the ground, and rolled a few times.
Shaken right off!
Jiang Wang stared at the headless body that had just been speaking. A chill shot up from the base of his spine to the crown of his skull.
But he was a veteran of battle. He fell back a step on instinct, meaning to retreat into his dormitory and at least grab a weapon.
But the dormitory door slammed shut and would not budge, as though someone on the other side was pressing their weight against it, refusing him entry.
The headless body turned, arms spread wide, and broke into a sprint. The head that had tumbled to the ground suddenly launched itself into the air, striking toward Jiang Wang faster than the body could follow. Its hair hung loose, its face twisted and grotesque, nose caved in, eyeballs bulging.
A midnight fiend. A death-dealing wraith.
"Enough of your ghost tricks!" Jiang Wang roared, hoping to rouse the Outer Court disciples in the surrounding dormitories, and threw himself backward.
This was Fenglin Dao Academy. Dong A, a Fifth Grade cultivator, sat in authority. No eerie entity could afford to make too great a commotion here. Escape would be the best course.
But the head's velocity was too great. He could not get clear in time.
So instead of retreating further, he launched himself into the air, channeling one of the two Dao essence beads in his Dao meridian into his right leg. He twisted and lashed out, a midair reverse kick, driven by explosive force far beyond anything he had mustered before.
Jiang Wang had killed men. He had seen blood. He told himself: it is a ball. Not a head. Just a ball.
Bang!
Boot met skull. The head rebounded at even greater speed than before, smashing into the onrushing headless body and sending it stumbling.
A cuju strike on goal.
At the same time, Jiang Wang felt a searing pain across his foot. The head had opened its bloody maw, torn through his boot, and ripped away a strip of flesh. The wound was faintly tinged green.
Jiang Wang knew this was bad. Corpse poison, or something of the sort.
But his goal of buying time had been achieved. He did not hesitate. He turned and ran.
A few strides brought him to the end of the corridor, where a transparent membrane of primal qi blocked his path.
The force was not great, but exceedingly resilient, holding firm against him. This was a killing ground, sealed on all sides.
Jiang Wang's mind raced. The last Dao essence bead in his meridian detonated, converging on his right shoulder.
He threw every ounce of strength into a shoulder charge.
"Open!"
His body went light. He burst free of the corridor between the two dormitory rows.
Then he heard the wind, the insects, the voices of Outer Court disciples returning.
"Senior Brother Jiang Wang, what are you doing?"
"Brother, you are hurt?"
Hearing familiar voices, Jiang Wang knew he was safe. He spun back toward the corridor. It was empty now. The headless body and the flying head had both vanished.
On either side, doors opened as disciples called out in confusion. Then a voice shrieked: "Dead... someone is dead!"
Jiang Wang was first through the door where the cry had come from. There lay the body of the missing disciple, man and severed head on the floor, face frozen in a grotesque grimace.
Cowering in the corner was the dead disciple's roommate, trembling, wide-eyed with panic.
From what Jiang Wang had witnessed, the attacker commanded at the very least a left-path corpse-driving art and an orthodox water-element Dao technique. Or perhaps more than one enemy.
His mind worked fast. "Heretics have broken into the Outer Court at night and killed. They know Dao techniques and have transcended the mortal realm. Their strength should be within the Ninth Grade. Move in groups of five, covering one another. The dormitory district is locked down. No one enters or leaves. I will report to the Inner Court at once."
The frightened disciples found an anchor in his voice and obeyed.
Jiang Wang turned and sprinted toward the Inner Court.
The whole of East City belonged to Fenglin Dao Academy, but only the walled courtyards at its center constituted the academy proper. Outer Court disciples like Jiang Wang were scattered in the surrounding areas.
Compared to the grand archway and jade lions of the Outer Court gates, the Inner Court entrance was far smaller, barely wide enough for four abreast. Yet the plaque above it, carved with dragons and phoenixes, glowing faintly in darkness, whispered of deeper significance.
A small pavilion stood before the gate, hung with cloud-patterned lanterns. Within, a clean-featured young Daoist in hemp robes sat cross-legged on a rush-grass cushion, eyes closed in cultivation. This was the Inner Court disciple on duty tonight: Li Jianqiu.
Jiang Wang reached the pavilion and bowed hastily. "Senior Brother Li, left-path heretics are killing in the Outer Court. One disciple has already fallen. Please come maintain order!"
To Outer Court disciples, every Inner Court disciple was a figure of renown. And to Li Jianqiu, the man who had initiated a Dao-Tested Death Duel, drawing the dean himself to preside, was no nobody. As the one on duty, the responsibility was his.
He pressed his hand to his sword and rose.
"That will not be necessary." A commanding voice stopped him. Li Jianqiu's hand left the hilt and he bowed at once.
Dean Dong A stood in the Inner Court doorway, his expression hard, even grim. "I will handle this personally."
"Corpse qi." He looked at the wound on Jiang Wang's foot, extended his index finger, and a thorn of jade-green condensed into being.
Only then did Jiang Wang notice the wound had already festered, black blood seeping from it.
"Grade C, mid-tier Dao technique: Poison-Swallowing Thorn. A practical art. Viable up to the middle tier."
Dong A explained casually as he tapped his finger forward.
Beyond transcendent-grade arts, standard Dao techniques were divided into four grades and twelve ranks. Every cultivator had to find which suited them best and forge their own fighting system through combat.
The thorn sank into the wound. At a rate visible to the naked eye, it turned black. In a few breaths, the jade thorn was pitch-black, and the wound no longer showed the dark-green of poison. Fresh red blood flowed instead.
Jiang Wang hastily tore a strip from his robe and bandaged the wound.
Li Jianqiu watched in silence, thoughtful.
Then Dong A asked, "What happened?"
Jiang Wang recounted the events in the fewest words possible and offered no opinion. He could only trust that the dean would give him justice for an assassination within the academy's walls.
The corner of Dong A's mouth lifted. Given his severe expression, the slight smile was all the more chilling.
"Left-path heretics, daring to make trouble at Fenglin Dao Academy. They do not take this academy seriously. They do not take Dong A seriously."
His Dao robe flared. Five fingers spread wide, he pressed his palm toward the earth.
"Jade Cage!"
Centered on his five fingers, the invisible force of the Wood Path expanded in every direction.
Every gate of the academy slammed shut. Branches erupted from the frames, growing with violent speed.
The ivy on the courtyard walls shot up like serpents, weaving together in midair.
Every wooden object within the entire academy began to mutate.
Chairs sprouted branches. Windows grew claws. Massive trees erupted from the earth. Thorns danced wildly.
In an instant, beneath the curtain of night, the whole of Fenglin Dao Academy transformed into a jade-green prison.