The Third Elder was thought to be the oldest member of the Sect. Even Hao had heard that rumor. If based solely on appearance, the rumors had to be true. He walked at a turtle’s pace. One hand ran down his snow white beard as he nodded and blocked the Fourth Elder from approaching alongside him.

  “We lost many members in the Secret Realm.” His voice was surprisingly soft and smooth.”That is nothing new. For the losses suffered, we grieve, but more importantly, we remember. They will live through the us, the Drifting Stream Sect, until the Ocean takes the land. Be ever grateful for their contributions to the Sect.”

  Hao felt like he was hearing a speech from one of the eloquent Elders on the Island. They wouldn’t say anything like this. The cadence and big gestures were just too similar not to make the comparison.

  The Third Elder continued, eyes sweeping over the crowd. “For those who survived, in the kindest way possible, I mean it when I say: I hope you found enemies and allies that will follow you for a lifetime.”

  The old man said a few more things before wrapping up.

  Hao made eye contact with him twice while he spoke. The old man looked through him like he was a book. Despite all the kindness in his well-spoken words, his eyes were like a bird of prey as he looked down on the disciples.

  Finally, the Third Elder stepped back, and the Fourth Elder, with his massive head, stepped forward. As the two of them passed each other, the Fourth bowed his head. At least the old dog named Mo respected his Elders, a shame his bastard pup Bangcai and his followers would rather beat an old woman’s husband to death than breathe a hint of humility.

  The Fourth Elder raised his hands out to his sides. He chuckled, “Yes! We have faced losses, and even some of the rising young heroes of the lower peak have fallen. Other factions faced similar fates. However, in the name of contribution, those lost shall not be forgotten.”

  Hao looked around the crowd. The sentiment built by the Third Elder had vanished, grimaces replaced tears.

  Their words were in essence the same. The Third Elder just had the wisdom not to say those blunt things in that order. The stuff about grief and loss was a good touch. Hao made one of his new goals in life to learn the shamelessness of the Elders.

  The Third Elder walked forward again, but he was too late.

  Mo Si had let his mouth off its chain. “With the contribution of those living who brought out what was left behind by the dead, the Sect has had a resurgence in resources. Its value is more than what was brought back in the three years previous.”

  Hao was enjoying this. He could see the facial expressions of the disciples change as they made assumptions from the Fourth Elder’s words.

  Even the Upper Peak disciples were a little confused. Enthusiasm waned like the orange tip of an incense under water.

  “Ahem,” The Fourth Elder cleared his throat. He must have finally noticed the tide swinging low. “The mission hall needed extra manpower to oversee the resources. I stepped in myself, only to find treasures our sect has not seen in years. The last time we had such a bump in resources was before the previous Upper Peak Ascension."

  The First Elder pushed past both the Third Elder and put a hand on the Shoulder of the Fourth. His hand seemed massive as he pulled his ally back.

  “The Fourth Elder has told you his worries and concerns.” The First Elder started, “But he also expressed his surprise. The Riches brought to the Sect are for the Sect, and as its disciples, you have a right to them. But only the strong deserve a share.”

  Hao could gauge the reaction of the people in the stands. Their heads turned far faster than anyone else's. The Elders wore faces of confusion, the Third Elder wore a face of being played for a fool. As for the Second Elder, her face was still hidden in the shadow of the sun that grew from the stone on her between her brows—for her, the most he could do was imagine. He thought she would have the same worry as the Fifth, who sneered at the shallow words of clever deceit, his thick white brows like scythes.

  The crowd's tune changed like a flute bored with a new hole. A thunderous cheer, sudden and booming. Still, they were not told how they would get their share, nor how much of it they would get.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  A twisted affair. Those who went to the Secret Realm fought for treasure and sold it to the Sect for their gains. Yet the Sect was the one to come upon booming profit, not the disciples who watched their friends die.

  It tastes like copper in Hao’s mouth. His neck itched with fury and scarred song evils songs while the hole straight through his arm burned with acid. He wanted to squeeze the cheering between his fingers.

  The First Elder raised his hand. The crowd cooled like ducklings listening to their ugly, greedy goose of a mother.

  “Still, in light of the Secret Realm becoming old in its rich history. With the number of disciples willing to go and the Caves' own resources dwindling. Sacrifices cost so much more. Our Drifting Stream Sect will be staying far from the Secret Realm until further discussion and inquiry is made.” The First Elder pulled down on his beard and nodded.

  Disciples in the Arena followed suit in gesture, agreeing blindly to the meaning.

  Hao kept his composure all this time, yet now he scoffed for a breath, his fingernail digging into his palm.

  He kept a neutral grin on his face, yet screamed in his head to keep his words to himself. Lies… You cannot say it, can you? Your disciples cost the Sect more than he will ever be worth. Now other factions are against us, aren't they? Now they know The Bastard of the Fourth Elder, the Disciple of the First Elder, is a dog, an ally murderer, a lowly rapist… You’ve made a pig of a pawn in your own image, and it's the disciples and servants that suffer the mistake of you and yours.

  The disciples in the arena bumped each other's shoulders with smiles. Those in the stands had a variety of reactions. Of course, Upper Peak disciples, Hall Leaders, and Elders weren’t so easily fooled.

  Shock and unhappiness were abundant. The Seventh Elder, a man who knew the truth of it, wore disgust and indignation on his usually still face.

  “With this news,” The First Elder continued. “I bring about a brilliant announcement!” His arms went wide and animated, he pointed at the sky and swung them around while nodding his head. A simple truth, anticipation was a key that opened the locks to the hearts of the unwise.

  “Not going to the Mid-Summer cave next year grants us an opportunity! A moment of change for our sect, to some, a moment of peace! For those who work hard even in this time, it will be the greatest opportunity!”

  “The shining talents among you will be given a chance to ascend the peak of any willing Elder.” The First Elder nodded as the crowd started to murmur.

  Hao heard the excited whisper all around him: “A peak ascension? How long has it been?”

  “That is right! Any disciple registered to the mission hall as a Lower Peak Disciple will have the chance to live, eat, and cultivate on the Upper Peaks! Even my own.” The first Elder yelled as loud as he could, his hands waving.

  “It's a Peak Ascension Ceremony!”

  The crowd burst.

  Their excitement made the clouds shiver. Hao could feel the inside of his ears buzz until everything became a solid, senseless wall.

  The idea was a dream of servants—the ambition of disciples on the Lower Peaks.

  Hao knew even the Hall Leaders of the Lower Peak would love their chance to ascend the Upper Peak. They had the strength for it, but not the talent, or station.

  Voices in chant became ragged, their tone deepened as throats went sore. They were war cries. After speeches of unity and sacrifice, the man, woman, and child at your shoulder would kill you to sit above the clouds.

  “For the Upper Peak!”

  Questions dared to mix between the gargled words “An Elder’s Instruction…”

  The First Elder lowered his raised hands. “There will be other rewards. All who compete get a chance at compensation for their ambition. Elders can choose any disciple that they take a liking to at any time, and the overall winner that stands above every opponent will get a multitude of rewards and fame, including a Three-Forging pill. More importantly, that winner can choose the Peak they wish to ascend, as long as the Elder is willing!”

  Whispers in the crowd sound like trees falling and giant snakes moving through fall leaves.

  “There is more,” The First Elder called, “Yes, perhaps more life-changing. The top five will earn the rare chance to challenge the Bone-Shaking Trial.” His arms lowered.

  It was silent for just a moment, the only sound from Hao. His head was lowered, and his lips sealed in suppressed laughter. That's your plan? That is your plan? Mo Bangcai wins the competition, consolidates his position in the mind of the disciples, and then completes the Bone-Shaking Trial?

  A few people looked over at him. Elders, the Upper Peak disciples in the stands, the disciples to his left and right. But his laugh was soon forgotten under the cannon-fire sound of clapping. Mountain shelves trembled.

  Hao could see the growing grin on the First Elder’s face; if his nose were flat, he would look like a bearded viper. That malicious stare came from the disciples and went to the Second Elder.

  Hao joined the clapping, waiting for his chance to leave the arena. We will see… Perhaps it will be in front of the entire Sect that I kill the little beast Mo Bangcai, with the First Elder watching.