By the ti the crowd reached the base of the plateau, the path had widened into a broad courtyard paved with dark stone tiles.
Disciples were dispersing in every direction, so heading down winding roads toward distant valleys, others vanishing into shaded corridors between towering buildings.
'Wait a minute...' Han Yu froze for a mont.
Where in the world was he supposed to go?
Everyone around him seed to have a clear destination. Groups were splitting off naturally, following their divisions or peaks. He stood in the middle of it all, the picture of calm on the outside, but inside his mind was racing.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. "What do I do now?"
He thought of Ju Fan.
Technically, he was supposed to be him now. That ant his ho should be wherever Ju Fan lived. The problem was, he had absolutely no idea where that was.
"Fifth Rib Peak, wasn't it?" Han Yu grimaced.
He had no clue where that was located. The sect was enormous, and from the looks of it, divided into nurous mountain peaks and valleys.
He briefly considered asking soone for directions, but imdiately rejected the idea.
Asking where one's own ho was located was as good as declaring, "Hello, I am an imposter, please murder imdiately."
"Would amnesia work?" He rubbed his temples, trying to think. "Nah."
Pretending to have mory loss was equally stupid. No one would believe that a cultivator could forget where his own residence was. Especially not in a sect where "forgetfulness" might be cured by decapitation.
He took a steadying breath and decided to walk casually along the main road. Maybe he would stumble upon sothing that could help.
Unfortunately, there were no convenient signs saying "Fifth Rib Peak, this way!"
There were a few stone markers scattered around, but they were inscribed with nas that ant absolutely nothing to him—"Sixth Eastern Tributary Bridge," "Teleportation Hall," "Blood Refinent Tower," and other locations that sounded impressive but useless to his situation.
He glanced up at the sky for a mont, wondering if he could fly and scout the area. But he quickly noticed sothing odd. Despite the vast open space, not a single disciple was flying. Everyone stayed on the ground, moving respectfully along the paths.
That was a clear sign that aerial travel was forbidden unless one was of a certain rank.
"Right," he muttered, sighing. "Walking it is."
He adjusted his robes and joined the steady flow of people heading down a large road that cut through the valley.
The scenery was breathtaking in a grim sort of way. Trees with dark red leaves swayed gently on either side, and rivers of glowing crimson fluid branched out like veins across the land.
It was not long before he reached one of those rivers. A black stone bridge arched over it, broad and well-maintained. The river beneath shimred with faint light, its surface reflecting the wounded moon overhead.
Han Yu slowed his steps as he crossed, curiosity pulling at him.
To his surprise, a handful of disciples were standing along the bridge, holding fishing rods. They looked far too relaxed for people surrounded by so much blood.
"Fishing?" he thought aloud, incredulous. "In that thing?"
He was about to dismiss it when one of the disciples suddenly shouted.
"GOT ONE!"
His rod bent sharply, and the man pulled with all his strength.
SPLASH
Sothing massive broke the surface of the river, thrashing violently.
Han Yu's eyes widened as he got a good look at it.
The creature was over two ters long, with slick skin like a catfish but the face of a snarling wolverine. It had rows of needle-like teeth and gills that pulsed like open wounds. It flopped onto the bridge, growling, before lunging straight at its captor.
"GRAAAA!!!"
The disciple barely had ti to react before the beast clamped down on his arm.
CRUNCH.
Han Yu flinched as the man's hand was bitten clean off. Blood sprayed in an arc, splattering across the black stone.
"Holy—" he started to say but stopped himself, looking around.
No one else seed alard.
Instead, the other fishern burst out laughing.
"Hahahaha! Again? That's the third ti this year, isn't it?" one shouted, barely able to contain his laughter.
"Not this year, idiot. This is the third ti in two years," another corrected him, smirking. "You should really stop challenging the Blood Moon River Beasts if you can't even dodge their bites."
The injured man was red-faced with both pain and fury. "Shut up, you bastards! I almost had it this ti!"
"Sure, sure," the others said mockingly. "Next ti you'll lose the other arm and we'll call you the No-Handed Slayer!"
The group erupted in another round of laughter.
Han Yu stared in disbelief.
He had seen life-and-death battles, demonic cultivators tearing flesh apart, and even sect conflicts, but nothing prepared him for the casual absurdity of this mont. Here was a man bleeding profusely from a severed arm, being mocked by his peers as if it were so kind of running joke.
"What kind of hellish sect is this?" Han Yu whispered under his breath.
The wounded disciple scowled, muttered a few curses, then calmly retrieved a vial from his robe and poured the contents over his stump. The bleeding stopped instantly, replaced by the faint hiss of regeneration.
Han Yu's eyes widened again as the man's hand began to slowly grow back, bone and sinew forming in real ti.
"Ah, good as new," the man said cheerfully, flexing the half-ford fingers. "Told you it was worth it."
Han Yu's expression flattened.
'What the fuck? They can casually regenerate limbs like that? Don't the Flesh And Limb Regenerating Pills cost like ten thousand High Grade Spirit stones or sothing back in the sect? How's he using it like it's so fasting pills?' Han Yu had no idea how to wrap his mind around this.
He took a careful step backward, putting a little more distance between himself and this group of lunatics.
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