Xu Yueping spoke: "Xiao Qin, want to go take a look?"
"Did Cao Long, Wei Zhirou, and Mu Qing go?" Qin Ming asked. When weighing options, safety naturally came first.
"They already passed our village gate. The high-ranking gave permission — as long as we don't get too close."
"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go!" Old Liu perked up at once.
Qin Ming didn't object. Since Cao Long and Wei Zhirou were attending, there was no need to worry especially.
They soon reached the foot of the great mountain. New Lifers had gathered in force, all craning their necks — desperate to see Redcloud City's high-ranking appear.
Qin Ming fixed his eyes on that donkey. It looked much like the one he'd hunted days before. Could it be some descendant?
A pure-white weasel sat cross-legged on its back, like an enlightened monk — silent, utterly composed, its shrewd eyes unfathomable.
Qin Ming visualized tranquility, hid his vital force, and by "Blending With Dust" melted into the crowd.
"They're here!" someone murmured. At the far end of the snow a silhouette appeared, drawing nearer.
"That must be our high-ranking, right?" Even the nobles couldn't stay calm.
Soon silence fell again — because that, too, was an aberrant.
It came padding with an elegant feline gait, unhurried, to stand at the very front.
It turned out to be a mackerel cat, three feet long, a few dozen jin — and it walked upright.
Qin Ming found it beyond words. The aberrant high-ranking weren't so rare after all.
Worse, tabby cats and weasels were natural enemies. Would those two come to blows?
Many had that thought, but none dared voice it.
"I thought top-tier aberrants would be like Moon Bugs and creatures of that sort..." Old Liu muttered.
He'd watched these mountains for decades and heard countless legends — of horrifying Mountain Lords, of famous birds that stood two hundred years. Yet none had shown up.
"They're not... going to turn on each other, are they?" someone noticed.
Because the great mackerel cat and the old weasel were at daggers drawn, as if about to fight.
On the snowfield, the great mackerel cat stood still, carrying a crimson longsword. The sword popped half a foot from its scabbard of its own accord. Crimson light spilled everywhere, like the legendary sunset made flesh, staining nearby snow red.
The snow-white weasel abandoned its composure. It slid off the donkey and sent it off to wait.
The white old weasel stood there itself. Its forearms were indistinguishable from human arms. One hand rested behind its back; the other wound a string of prayer beads.
All white, it raised its head to the sky, detached and ethereal, slowly rolling the beads. Thin white mist flowed out, holding back the crimson glow.
The crowd was stunned. These two weren't on the same side? They were glaring at each other!
"One of them must be human — just that the path he walks differs, so his body has ceased to look human." someone said quietly.
Right now they couldn't even tell which was human and which was a great mountain creature.
A crowd had gathered — including many mountain patrollers, come on the news. Though they worked the mountain's outer ring, they'd never glimpse top-tier aberrants. Today they had come to feast their eyes.
Redcloud City had also sent many New Lifers, some from noble houses, some from mighty organizations.
In the dense forest opposite, a great mass of creatures had appeared — bizarre races, some red as fire, some wreathed in purple mist, raising raucous noise.
"Stay alert. They might try something." Cao Long spoke, his three-meter body sheathed in gleaming armor, a sharp long spear clenched in hand.
"Wasn't this supposed to be a final negotiation?" someone asked.
Mu Qing, wrapped in a black cloak, spoke: "We won't pick a fight. But if those aberrants dare cross the line, fight freely. The high-ranking will back us up."
At the same time, other organizations of Redcloud City and the patrol experts all sent word: fight freely if trouble arose.
"It's been ages since I saw a display this grand. The last large-scale mountain sweep was thirty years ago." Old Liu said, gripping his thick cleaver.
He and Qin Ming's group had come late and stood at the back — relatively safe.
The moment a towering figure appeared, every disturbance was quelled. Both the aberrants and the New Lifers fell silent.
No one had seen how he arrived. He simply stood at the center of the standoff.
Ten meters tall, impossibly massive, clad in ancient, time-scarred armor. He held a black spear, and an invisible, tremendous aura radiated from him — cowing the aberrants and raising goosebumps on every New Lifer.
Fortunately, that aura dissipated quickly.
His features were sculpted, angular, in his forties. A frame this enormous made one think of the Giant Spirit path.
"This must be some great figure of our Redcloud City — but I've never seen him." someone wondered.
Even the noble heirs hadn't seen him either.
Whatever else, this was a thoroughly human man.
He stationed himself beside the snow-white old weasel, facing the mackerel cat with the crimson longsword.
With his arrival, that sword, which had stained all around like sunset, issued a series of soft chimes, warning of the newcomer's danger.
An old patroller spoke: "This makes it clear. The ten-meter man is a master our Redcloud City invited. So the muste— ah, Senior Yellow — must be one of ours too, because he chose a different path and remade himself into a distinct true form."
People nodded. Clearly the mackerel cat bearing the longsword hailed from deep in the mountains.
The ten-meter giant and the foot-tall white weasel stood together. The contrast was too absurd. Many wished to remark but dared not.
"Brother Wei — Wei Mo — it's been twenty years. Are you well?" A gentle voice sounded, utterly sudden. Another silhouette appeared in the snow.
This, too, was a human man, a bit past forty, dressed all in white, elegant and handsome. He blended into the snow.
He took his place beside the mackerel cat and looked toward the ten-meter human opposite.
This time many were utterly baffled. They couldn't tell which side made up Redcloud City's high-ranking.
The giant called Wei Mo nodded. His red-gold armor rang out. "True, twenty years have passed. Ling Xu, you've begun to show your age."
People were puzzled. Ling Xu seemed in his prime. It seemed those of this level had different standards.
Some from Redcloud City let out cries.
"Ling Xu... he's the City Lord!"
Now at last they understood which side was the mountain's creatures and which was Redcloud City's high-ranking.
In that brief span, many people's understanding had twisted through several turns.
Ling Xu nodded. "Who does not grow old? None can resist the years — not even the most mysterious handful of top-tier creatures."
Then he looked to Wei Mo: "You chose to plunge into the night-mist, to wander at the edge of the boundless forbidden zones, and never come back?"
"Yes." Wei Mo gave a single word.
"Understandable." Ling Xu nodded.
Many faces grew grave. A few elders knew how formidable Wei Mo had been. Long ago his body had towered far higher. Had he opened an even higher level of transformation?
"Why does he stand with the aberrants?" a boy from Redcloud City whispered.
The old man murmured: "When one finds no path, no hope, one walks into the vast, endless night. And so, among the deep mountains and swamps, some high creatures, some mysterious aberrants — they are not necessarily monsters. In their early years, some were once men!"
Qin Ming heard this and drifted into thought.
"Let's sit and talk." Ling Xu made a gesture of invitation.
Four beings, four different forms, sat in the snow and began the final negotiation.
But the crowd could hear nothing of their voices — a privy talk among the high-ranking. Letting them watch from afar was already a chance to broaden their horizons.
The scene was far from peaceful: crimson haze roiled, white mist flowed, the garments and armor of the four beings shook violently — a dread field of force hung between them.
They even saw the great mackerel cat draw its sword. Crimson radiance spread, like a red sun about to rise from the earth.
The pure-white old weasel seemed badly provoked — one hand rolling beads, the other patting lightly on the snow.
Instantly all were terrified — an earthquake. Vast drifts of snow were knocked into midair.
Many saw it had only patted once, without truly meaning to strike.
Still, this only escalated the standoff.
Worse — as the aberrants roared in chorus, more dreadful high creatures surfaced deeper in the mountain.
Some stood on peaks, watching coldly; some rose high to look down.
One insect was most unusual: so brilliant it lit up several summits, drifting to the edge of the range.
"Moon Bug!" many cried out.
But opposite, power also appeared — an azure great bird bearing a figure in floating feathered robes. The figure hovered high, fixing a gaze on the Moon Bug with a profoundly ethereal air, countering the dread aura it flung outward.
Qin Ming watched and felt pain at his head — not because of the man, but because of that voluminous feather robe. It struck his heart like lightning, splitting open the dust-covered depths of his subconscious. In that flash he saw images, and learned the bloody story of his fourteenth year.