The Village Chief raised an eyebrow. "In a fight to the death, the Heavenly Demon Cult would surely bleed countless of its own as well. If a broken old band like ours drained your vital essence so heavily, the State Preceptor of Yankang would rejoice and seize the chance to sweep your Cult into his bag. What say you?"
The boy Ancestor nodded. "It is true the State Preceptor has long sought to subjugate our Cult. Yet the Sacred Sutra of our Holy Sect is lost, and the Sacred Cult Master slain — near enough to having destroyed the Cult. If Elder Brother insists, your village will have to clash with our Holy Sect. Raise the banners!"
The Elder of Discipline bowed. "As you command, Ancestor. Raise the banners!"
The three hundred and sixty Hall Masters each drew out a great banner, and with a sharp swish the cloth flew open, streaming in the wind, spreading wider until each covered some ten acres.
"Lower the banners," said the youth. "Lower the banners!" cried the Elder of Discipline.
One by one the great banners folded away — and then Qin Mu saw that behind them had stood tens of thousands of practitioners, each erect and imposing, straight as spears, without a murmur, filling the air with a killing stillness!
The Village Chief sighed. "The transmission banners — their fame is no empty boast. One spread and furl, and tens of thousands of practitioners stand forth in the Great Ruins. No wonder the State Preceptor burns to subdue your Cult: with such an art, the armies of the State of Yankang would sweep the world."
The boy Ancestor sighed in turn. "With no Cult Master, our Holy Sect is but a scattering of sand. These forty years the Cult's plight has grown harder; I fear the State Preceptor will soon move against us. Like you, I am old — I hope only to choose some new Cult Master of dazzling brilliance."
A light moved in the Village Chief's eyes. "And so the Cult Master's Wife, who on her wedding night killed the old Cult Master, is the best choice you have?"
The boy Ancestor nodded with a wry smile. "Elder Brother, you know how rare is a Cult Master both dazzling of talent and wise of head. Our followers are many, but those with the making of a Cult Master are few, and one who could match the Wife — there is simply none. We have no choice but to bring her back to take the seat."
"I have heard it was this Wife who killed your Li Tianxing," said the Village Chief, glancing at Grandma Si. "Why make her the new Cult Master instead of avenging the old?"
The boy Ancestor's eyes gleamed. "Elder Brother forgets — ours is a demonic Cult; you cannot measure it by ordinary reason. When the new Cult Master slays the old, it shows the new has the greater capacity. Naturally we would uphold her!"
Beside him, Qin Mu and the Herbalist wore the strangest looks. Did the Cult truly keep such a rule?
"Granny, is there such a rule?" asked the Herbalist.
Grandma Si nodded, wooden-faced.
"Then why, after you slew the old Cult Master, did you not stay and become the new one?" the Herbalist pressed.
"For that I killed him, I had no face to stay," said Grandma Si in a dry rough voice. "If I remained, the demon in my heart would only weigh heavier."
The Village Chief smiled at the boy Ancestor. "If Granny is unwilling to go with you, then you cannot carry her off."
The boy Ancestor frowned. "The Cult Master's Wife and the Great Nurturing Heavenly Demon Sutra — I must have both."
The Village Chief raised his bowl in dismissal. "If the guest will not leave, then we must snuff out the guest. And since your Cult numbers so many, we shall not trouble to make coffins."
The boy Ancestor drained his bowl and rose. "And me likewise. But your village holds few people — I can see to coffins readily enough."
"Wait a moment!" Grandma Si spoke at last, smiling. "Village Chief, Herbalist, take Mu'er back; I shall speak with the Ancestor alone! If we cannot come to terms, let it be a fight to the death; but if we can, all will be glad."
The Village Chief gave her a sidelong glance. Grandma Si laughed. "Set your mind at rest — at worst I end up being carried off by them."
When they had returned, she sat down before the boy Ancestor. "Disciplinarian, withdraw."
"As you command, Mistress." The Elder of Discipline bowed and stepped back.
Grandma Si's eyes were bright. The Ancestor lad sighed. "Once you were the Holy Maiden of my Sect — without peer in your generation. When Li Tianxing sought to wed you, I did not approve."
"But you did not stop him." Grandma Si laughed. "Li Tianxing was my master. For a master to wed his disciple goes against the very bonds of human love. Our Holy Sect calls itself holy — has it no care for human love?"
The boy Ancestor frowned. "When he took you as disciple, I knew it was wrong. With you about his side day and night, I feared he would be utterly bedazzled — and so he was; he even set aside a wife of several hundred years, that he might take you for his new bride."
Grandma Si cackled through her few remaining teeth. "You knew he would be bedazzled, yet you let him take me for disciple? Ancestor, you ought to have taken me yourself! Had I been your pupil, nothing would have happened!"
"I feared that with you beside me day and night, I myself would be bedazzled." He smiled ruefully. "When first I saw you, you were but thirteen — yet my heart gave a violent leap. I knew then I could not take you for disciple; I would not see a lifetime of renown undone at your hands." He sighed. "Rare is the man who sees your true face and is not bedazzled."
"Then why make me Cult Master? Are you not afraid I shall ruin the Holy Sect?"
"You are the best choice there is. I do think of you as a woman born to destroy kingdoms. Yet these forty years we have gathered youths of remarkable talent, and none matches you; to become Cult Master, they fall short by a hair." He sighed. "Once you have seen the very best, all other goods seem lacking."
"I will not go back." Grandma Si smiled a beaming smile. "But I can give you back a Cult Master — and, by way of a gift, the lineage-guarding Sutra, the Great Nurturing Heavenly Demon Sutra."
A flicker crossed his face. "Give us back a Cult Master? What do you mean?"
In the village, Qin Mu and the Village Chief watched the two talk with lively cheer, jesting and laughing — a marvel to all. Everything was settled at last; the Ancestor rose and stepped back.
"Settled?" everyone said, their faces strange. The Cripple was frankly doubtful. "When does the fighting start?"
"No fighting. They'll stay here a while, and leave again in a few days." A chill ran through the company — what was brewing in that gourd of theirs?
Grandma Si smiled. "Old Ma, Mu'er says his Supreme Body qi has gained an attribute of the green dragon. Try him."
"Can Supreme Body qi even mimic Green Dragon qi?" Old Ma was amazed. "Mu'er, come over and trade a few hands!"
Qin Mu hurried over. The Herbalist watched the two set to, then sidled up to Grandma Si. "Granny, have you sold Mu'er?"
"Would I ever sell Mu'er?" she said with a stern face.
"How much did he go for?" The Cripple leaned in.
"Junior Cult Master of the demonic Cult." Grandma Si heaved a sigh. "A name on the roll, for now. I'll throw in the lineage-guarding Sutra by way of a gift. When he comes of age, we'll see how he has grown; if promising, he may formally take the seat of Sacred Cult Master. How is that price?"
The Cripple's eyes lit up. "Granny, why did you not come to me sooner? Sell me instead!"
Grandma Si laughed. "To be Sacred Cult Master, that is simple enough — go to the neighboring village and match yourself against the three hundred and sixty Hall Masters, the twelve guardian elders, the left and right envoy protectors, the four town-guarding heavenly kings, the eight inspectors — and on top of that an Ancestor."
The Cripple's face went ashen. "And Mu'er, to be made Junior Cult Master, must he too go over there?"
Grandma Si sighed, helpless. "They must first sample the goods. Unless they do, how would they dare let him be Junior Cult Master of the Heavenly Demon Cult?"