Cultivation is Creation

The mountain path wound endlessly upward, each turn revealing another stretch of steep terrain. I tried not to show how much this mortal body struggled with the climb, but my burning legs and aching lungs made it difficult to maintain dignity.

A question had been nagging at me since we left the village. After checking that my breathing was steady enough for conversation, I finally asked, "Why did you kill the Sun-touched? I thought they also served the red sun."

The Skybound – who had been floating beside me, apparently immune to concepts like physical exertion – let out a small laugh. "The Seventh Band? They're just mortals playing at greatness. Yes, they worship us, but they're nothing more than pawns."

It glanced at me, frost patterns shifting across its robes. "Usually, we need authorization from the Order to take large numbers of lives. What I attempted in that village was... technically against our rules. Which is why I had to ensure there were no survivors. The Seventh Band's deaths were merely convenient loose ends."

The casual way it discussed mass murder reminded me uncomfortably of how some cultivators viewed mortal lives – insignificant specks, barely worth noticing. I'd seen that attitude plenty of times in the Azure Peak Sect, though never quite this extreme.

"I trust," it added, its voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "that you understand the importance of discretion regarding this matter?"

I nodded quickly. "Of course. I wouldn't want to cause any... problems."

"Good." The frost patterns in its robes settled. "You had other questions?"

"The Order," I said, grateful for the change in subject. "What exactly is it?"