Modern Patriarch - Chapter 41: Conclave (2)

Chapter 41: Conclave (2)

The Flame Division Elders exchanged confused glances, seemingly hoping to find some modicum of surety in their fellow colleagues’ countenances. Truthfully speaking, the contingent from the Sky Division was faring no better, but they had gained some manner of resistance to their Grand Patriarch’s tendency to subvert expectations by this point; thus choosing to maintain silent, stoic expressions instead.

Tradition dictated that the one who proposed the Dao Discourse share his knowledge first, thus passing on the responsibility to present Yao Shen with questions to the attending Elders and Patriarchs. However, none present knew enough about the Esoteric Dao to make purposeful inquiries; and to ask frivolous questions would be to lose face.

Before the silence could transition into discomfiture he decided to intervene, offering, “I would like to make a proposal.”

“Please, go ahead Grand Patriarch,” Earth Patriarch Kang Long was quick to reply, his inflection betraying the relief he felt.

Yao Shen gave a grateful nod in his direction, before continuing, “My Dao is an Esoteric one and consequently, I do not expect the venerable attendees to be well-versed in its specifics. Thus, I wish to begin with a thought experiment.”

“A thought…experiment?” Meili Zhu slowly enunciated the words aloud, hoping to demystify its meaning. Both words existed in Liwan, the language that was predominantly used by cultivators and mortals alike in Ionea, though admittedly the translation for the word ‘experiment’ was rather inexact.

“A thought experiment is a…,” Yao Shen paused, searching for a description that would capture the intrigue of his fellow cultivators, “… tool that Human Dao Cultivators employ to further our understanding, in a manner of speaking.”

A wave of surprise reverbrated through the hall, before the cultivators in attendance shifted their full attention to Yao Shen, their gazes solemn. Whilst one could not hope to decipher the secrets of an Esoteric Dao through a second-hand experience, it was still unheard of for a practitioner to give out such knowledge. They did not completely believe Yao Shen’s claims, but they would listen with the utmost care.

Since there were no objections even after a minute had passed, he continued, “Very well. Close your eyes.”

The cultivators complied without protesting, for it was not eyes alone through which they could perceive the world.

“For a moment, I wish for you to visualize your daily lives in each of your respective divisions,” Yao Shen’s tone was calming and gentle as he imbued the emotions ‘tranquility’ and ‘peace’ into his words using his Human Dao. His influence was immediately noticed by the cultivators, but they did not fight it— it was nothing their willpower couldn’t immediately overcome.

“Suddenly, your senses detect a loud explosion, one you place within the sect,” Yao Shen’s inflection turned overbearingly loud and raucous, a sharp juxtaposition in face of the calm he had projected earlier. The emotions ‘shock’ and ‘surprise’ were imbued into his words, painting a disturbing atmosphere.

The Elders ofcourse were unmoved, but his efforts served well to paint a vivid image in their mind’s eye.

“You rush out of your abode, weapon artifact in hand. Your sight confirms the grim picture your divine sense had painted. An army of Demonic Path Cultivators lays arrayed before you, their numbers beyond your wildest expectations-,” Yao Shen was about to continue, but one of the Elders interrupted him.

“Which Sect does the army belong to, Grand Patriarch,” One of the Elders spoke, a tinge of hatred audible within his voice. The hatred wasn’t directed towards him, but seemed to be the general hatred of the man towards the Demonic Path.

“That is irrelevant,” Yao Shen replied, not at all bothered by the man’s question. This was a Dao Discourse, after all. “A thought experiment deals in suppositions, not fact. You may visualize whichever Demonic Sect that comes to mind.”

The Elder replied with a nod, signalling that his questioning had concluded.

Yao Shen continued onward, “There is no time to prepare, nor to think. This attack was a well prepared one, for your worst fear has come to life. That explosion has destroyed your sect’s protective formation. You hurtle forward towards the enemy, for you are a prideful righteous path cultivator and you do not flee in face of cowardly demons. That is your sacred duty. That is your path. That is your Dao Heart.”

A few impassioned nods and grunts were exchanged as the cultivators affirmed Yao Shen’s words.

“The Elders and Patriarchs, together, manage told hold back all the Nascent Soul and Soul Emperor cultivators that belong to the Demonic Path, averting the worst of the crisis. However, with the protective formation gone, thousands of weaker cultivators rush into the city.”

“A grave crisis,” Another Elder murmured under his breath, but his words did not escape him.

“A grave crisis indeed. Weaker these cultivators might be, but that is only by our standards. In the face of our Sect Guardians and Disciples, these cultivators are far more terrifying than even facing us!” Yao Shen intoned, his words imbued with ‘horror’, an emotion that he had recently confronting when attempting to unlock Origin Treasures.

“Blood Cultivators, if given the time, have the terrible ability to transform a light wound into a fatal one. The Dark Elves will scythe through a cultivator of similar rank effortlessly, their natural reflexes and speed beyond our human body’s raw capabilities at lower ranks. And if there is a Soul Cultivator among their ranks, he will kill dozens, if not more, with a single attack. The Azlak Plains has not faced such an attack since the Pact came into existence, however, the aim of this thought experiment is to pose you, all well-respected, some revered members of the Modern Sect— what will the disciples do in the face of such an attack? What will the Guardians do? Will they stand and fight? Will they surrender to the Demonic Path? Will they run?”

“Naturally, the Cultivators of the Luo Family will face the enemy, no matter how dire the situation may seem to be!” Elder Yongliang, the Flame Division Elder whose spear he had briefly stolen, exclaimed. “Our legacy dates back to the Era of Turmoil, and our ancestors fought and survived a war far fiercer than anything the present Era can offer. We survived then and we will do the same now.

The fiery Elder seemed offended at the notion that his family would retreat in the face of overwhelming odds, and perhaps his reaction was a justified one. He merely sought to defend his family’s reputation.

“That maybe true, Elder Yongliang. However, that was not my question. I asked you all,” Yao Shen paused to gesture at the attendees, “what the disciples and Guardians would do in face of such an attack. Your families, as powerful as they may be, are a minority when compared to the entire population of the Sect. A fact that many of you seem to have forgotten,” Yao Shen’s voice turned sharp towards the end. “Most of them share a background similar to mine, recruited from one mortal village or the other, a displaced or perhaps unwanted orphan and the occasional late-bloomer seeking a more adventurous life.”

This time, it was Earth Patriarch Kang Long who rose to counter Yao Shen’s Discourse, “Grand Patriarch Yao Shen, it is only natural for the cultivators of our Modern Sect, be it a new disciple or a member of the legacy families, to rise and fight against a demonic path incursion. The legends speak of the Demonic Path’s cunning and shrewedness— if the situation is devolved to the point of all out war, the odds of any disciple succesfully escaping are negligible to none. Even if they did, a bounty with their name would be sent out to all righteous path sects, as it has been for every traitor who defected to the Demons for centuries. As for surrender… Death would be a far preferable outcome to that.”

Yao Shen let out a chuckle at his statement. The Dao Discourse was finally getting interesting.

“Patriarch Kang Long, you have been mingling with power so long that you have forgotten what it feels like to be weak. Let me present you with a question.”

“Go ahead,” Patriarch Kang Long replied, his brows furrowed in concentration.

“Patriarch Kang Long, why do you cultivate?” Yao Shen asked, his voice brimming with an intense curiosity.

After some thought, he replied, “There is no one singular reason I can give in answer to that question. My cultivation exists to defend the Earth Division from threats, and for that cause I am willing to give my life. I also cultivate to honor the ancestors of the Long Family and to uphold the will of the righteous path. I cultivate to protect the one’s I care about from harm.”

“An astute answer. Patriarch Kang Long, another question. Do you fear death?” Yao Shen asked, his question drawing more than a few raised eyebrows, some even wondering if it was his attention to insult the Earth Patriarch’s face.

“A cultivator that does not fear death is no cultivator at all, Grand Patriarch. One cannot pry upon the secrets of the Grand Dao without first pondering upon the value of one’s own existence,” Patriarch Lei Weiyuan replied with composure.

Now that was an impressive answer.

“You are partially correct, Patriarch Kang Long. You are also, however, partially incorrect,” he replied.

That caught Kang Long’s attention.

“You see, Patriarch Kang Long, you fear death because you value your own life. But you are not truly afraid of death.”

“I.. do not understand,” the Earth Patriarch replied, wondering if this was truly how Yao Shen developed his Human Dao.

“The mortal farmer grows grain to feed his village. The mortal potter sells his wares in exchange for grain so he can provide for his wife and offspring. But why does the cultivator, cultivate? Why do you, Kang Long, venture deep into the Nayun Forest to hunt powerful spiritual beasts, risking your life? Why do you boldly face the wrath of the heavens, step after step, in the pursuit of cultivation?”

“I…,” The Earth Patriarch began to respond, only to face the realization that he… had no answer to give.

“The legacy of your ancestors. The burden and the responsibility of your sect. The desire to rejuvenate the glory of the Azlak Plains. The selfish desire to see what lay at the highest echelons of power. Or, more simply, the desire to live longer. These are your anchors, Kang Long. These are what make you something greater than the sum of your parts. Something more than ‘just’ yourself. Now tell me, what anchors does a disciple, who had been a mortal merely a few years ago, have to offer?” Yao Shen’s voice was strained, as he looked Kang Long in the eye. For once, he was struggling to contain his own emotions.

“Anchors…,” The word rolled off Kang Long’s tongue, his tone ponderous. What anchors did a mortal child whisked away to a world of cultivators have? Why did he cultivate? The more he thought about it, the more his expression seemed to scrunch up.

“I don’t know,” he replied after a while.

Yao Shen mirthfully laughed for a good minute before shaking his head. “Patriarch Kang Long, you were born a prodigy. Privileged. Protected. I do not blame you for your failure to answer. But, surely, you understand when the Demonic Path attacks, mere platitudes will not be sufficient to win the war! The Demonic Path is vicious and barbaric in their methods, but they are also far stronger at the weaker stages of cultivation. You think the fear of death will suffice as an Anchor? Laughable! Your defense is unrivalled in the Azlak Plains, Kang Long, perhaps that has made you forget that the fear of death does not give one the courage to stand!”

“Then, Grand Patriarch, what Anchor does such a cultivator possess?” Meili Zhu’s pacifying voice gently sounded out, the only one brave enough to speak. The other cultivators, even including the Flame Patriarch, seemed stunned into inaction as they meditated upon Yao Shen’s shocking words.

Yao Shen’s eyes seem to fall a little, their original brightness dimmed by a fleeting sorrow as he softly spoke, “That which you take from them. Mortal friends. Mortal Family. A home.”

Silence befell the hall.