green sea turned a deeper blue

Wenren È plucked the child from the pile of corpses, and seized his hand. Already the boy's body was polluted with corpse energy, his flesh nearly rotting with infection. Yet underneath that, his cultivation base was promising. With proper training, that child would become a truly impressive cultivator, if he had the willpower to work for it. 

The idea of using that child as a weapon occurred to him again,only to be soon pushed aside by another. A loyal subordinate was easy enough to acquire. Wenren È’s power was sure to draw to him those who hoped to grow in his shadow. But a child capable of surviving when everything around him had died, one with a will to survive so strong he was ready to pledge himself to anyone capable of helping him live a little longer…

It was unlikely the child would survive, Wenren È mused. His body was in a terrible state. His mind likely was just as bad if not worse, though Wenren È figured that was a lesser problem. If that body recovered, if that mind overcame its trauma, if that child was properly trained, wouldn’t he make an incredible opponent someday?

“I need someone strong,” Wenren È stated. “Someone willing to fight me to the death when the day comes.”

The little boy stared at him dully for so long Wenren È wondered if he’d been heard. Then, with slow determination, the child nodded once, his small face grim yet showing no sign of fear.

Wenren È slung the child over his shoulder, as careless as if it were a bag of rice he had to carry, and started thinking.

If he’d intended to turn that child into his weapon, naturally he would have made him his disciple by flinging him in some area rich in natural energy and giving him some manual or other to practice with. But a child raised that way, one who thought of him as his master, might grow to be hesitant to strike him. Even demonic cultivators sometimes developed proper filial feelings for their teachers.

Instead, it might be more efficient to let someone else train that child, and teach him to hate Wenren È. Any of the righteous sects would do fine for that. They were always quick to tell their disciples to despise demonic cultivators, so they didn’t have to inspect their own behaviour. As to which one should be chosen for that child… it did not matter much. They were all the same, at the end of the day. 

Eventually, Wenren È settled on taking the child to the gate of Shangqing sect. They had a reputation for growing power, and were said to have access to a great number of healing pills and competent doctors. They also easily accepted promising children, and would definitely keep this one once they checked his potential, no matter how suspicious it would be to have a child in such a bad state handed to them, when their own region was currently free from mortal wars.

“You will live,” Wenren È ordered. “And you will grow strong. When you are strong enough, you will face me in battle.”

He felt the boy nod again, more weakly now. Even though he had been removed from that pile of corpses, the child was still in a terrible state, and might die soon without proper care.

“My name is Wenren È. When you are ready, come and find me. Until then, keep our encounter a secret.”

This time the child did not react. His breathing was weaker, and Wenren È wondered if he might have fainted.

With no more time to waste, Wenren È quickly made his way to Shangqing sect, and left the boy somewhere he was sure to be quickly found. On a whim, he even stayed nearby for a moment, until a disciple of that sect noticed the dying child and hurriedly brought him inside.

A rare pang of doubt struck Wenren È. That child really might have become a useful subordinate, given a chance, and a useful tool in his planned assault against the Xuanyuan sect… But Wenren È trusted his own strength. He would take over that sect with his own power. As for the child, he would either become someone worthy of interest, or he would not. It was not in Wenren È’s hands anymore.

Still it occurred to him, too late, that he did not know the boy’s name. He hadn’t thought to ask. Ultimately, it was unimportant.