Han Yimu was terrified.
He was terrified of the choices he made that landed him here, he was terrified of these children that he'd learned were hiding the depths of themselves so expertly that perhaps only that Empress could see through, and he was doubly terrified of their Master--well, his Master, too--the man who managed to tame all these dragons that should be bathing in the opulence of upper realm sects rather than withering away here, in destitute.
... except they weren't withering away.
Once he learned that they'd all been practicing cultivation under the man for just a few years, at most, his terror sunk ever so further into his soul. Some of his Seniors started cultivating when they were in their mother's womb, and yet these kids had barely just begun.
And yet, he could not run away, for he had no place to run off to.
Though he did plan on putting up some fight originally to carve out his position as an important Disciple, once they gathered him for 'introductions', that was dashed.
The youngest, the literal boy who was ten years old, beat him black and blue. In fact, Han Yimu couldn't even put his hand on the boy, no matter how hard he tried.
Yes, it was the truth that he no longer had a cultivation method or any martial art to use, but that did not matter. He was thrice the boy's age, and had all the experience that the boy didn't, and was still a full major realm higher than the boy, but it didn't matter.
He was beaten.
So fully that he thought others would be laughing at him until sundown. Except... none did. In fact, they praised him.
"Oh, Junior Brother Yimu is really fast!" they'd say as he failed to be fast enough to dodge Xing Feng's weird club-like weapon.
"Oh, that was a really good defensive stance!" they'd say as he was clobbered back into a wall like a pot of clay.
"Oh, he took that hit really well!" they'd say when the club squared against his nose and nearly broke it.
He genuinely thought they were making fun of him and was about to lash out before he caught glimpse of their expressions: they were genuine. They truly believed he was doing well and were encouraging him.
... he wasn't actually quite sure yet which reality was more depressing. It was true that, as far as they knew, he was just some ordinary Spirit Manifestation Realm cultivator that their Master picked up, but Han Yimu had his suspicions that, even if they knew precisely who he was, their reactions would still have remained just the same.
And now, they were leaving the sect per their Master's orders; it was quite odd, as there was nobody there to escort them, and that bird was still sitting perched on top of the Master's head, happily snoring away. Were they really letting him take a Divine Beast with himself?
The only way this could have happened was during the time the Empress and the Master stayed inside to talk while he waited for them to finish. Something must have been said--or some deal must have been made--which had Empress ensure they could leave the sect with the phoenix in tow.
They emerged from the front gates not fifteen minutes later, overlooking the vast expanse of dirt that stretched out into the foggy horizon. The sun was about an hour away from setting down; they were likely going to ride a warship or something along that--
"Alright, let's walk," the Master's words shook him; weren't they supposed to ride a chariot?! But seeing as nobody else complained... he stayed silent, too.
"Master likes to remain as hidden as possible," the beautiful Wan Lan finally provided some answers. "Well, tries. We won't walk for long, don't worry." she flashed him a smile and all his complaints went away.
They walked along the path for about half an hour before the strange boy that seemed to never hang out with the rest of the group spoke out.
"We're far enough away, Master."
"We are? Very well. Let's all hop in." the man procured something miniature from the spatial ring and tossed into the air; a moment later, it grew and expanded and twisted until it became a... chariot. Without the horse to lead it, of course. It was gilded, yet it seemed even more ancient than some of the traversal tools Han Yimu saw in the museums in the Upper Realm.
The kids started filing in one by one, and soon did he. Luckily, despite looking quite small from the outside, the chariot packed a spatial-pocket array--a fairly complex one considering just how spacious the interior was--allowing for everyone to have the room to breathe.
Once they were all inside and the doors closed, the chariot hummed softly as it soared up and started flying. Where to? Han Yimu didn't know... and he didn't dare ask.
"Haah, we're finally out of that place," Dai Xiu said. "It was so stuffy. Not to mention having to pretend in front of so many people... tsk, it's so annoying."
"You're only saying that because sister Lan'er had more boys admiring her than you." Light tossed a comment which had Dai Xiu's face turned red--partly with embarrassment and partly with anger--but not much else.
"It was stuffy, regardless," Xi Zhao, whom Han Yimu had already pegged for the one who stood between all these fires, spoke out quickly.
"Especially because we aren't used to it," Wan Lan added.
"Alright, attention, everyone," Master's voice immediately quieted everyone; it was rather amazing how bullish everyone was... until they faced this man. At which point they softened into jelly. "With a couple of newcomers joining us, Master has a few surprises for you all. Rewards for doing so well in the realm and keeping me safe while I was taking my beauty nap."
"And what a nap it was, Master! You look more beautiful--"
"--you can let some of these pass you by, Xiu'er," as the chariot resonated with laughter, all Han Yimu could think about was the coldness he felt when facing his former Masters. "Yimu."
"Y-yes, Master?"
"As I have caused you to lose all your martial arts and your cultivation method, we must fix that, somehow."
"No, I--"
"--hey, don't pick up their bad habits. They were kids when I got them, but you're a grown-ass man. Anyway, here," his Master procured four things in total from nowhere as they all appeared directly in front of Han Yimu. He was actually quite shocked; that mastery of Space Dao was... quite high.
He was a bit confused, however--there was a strange robe, a pair of booklets, and a... spear. Why was his Master giving him a spear? Did he not know?
"Master, I, I'm thankful, but I use a sword--"
"--and from now on you'll use the spear," the man said. "Humor me, for a little while at least. One of the booklets is your new cultivation method--study it carefully--and the other is an art that will pair well with the robe and the spear. In the coming few weeks, I'll prepare some spear-specific arts, so be patient. Everyone," he then turned toward everyone else as Han Yimu grabbed all items, turning his attention immediately to the cultivation method as he desperately needed one. Even if it was some low-level garbage, it was better than nothing. "The method isn't just for him," Master said, procuring another few sets of the booklets and tossing them to almost everyone else. "It's the next volume of Enduring Eternity."
"Oooh! Finally!"
"I can't wait to study it!"
"... Master."
"Hm?"
"Where's mine?" it was the boy--Long Tao, Han Yimu learned--who asked.
"And mine!" the alchemist sounded out.
"You already got yours, you old fart," Master snorted. "And why do you want one, Tao'er?"
"Curiosity."
"There's an old saying: curiosity killed the cat."
"Then let me die."
"... tsk. Here."
"What about me?!" alchemist whined again whereupon the booklet found its way straight at his face, causing the kids to laugh.
Feeling a bit lighthearted at their excitement over some low-level method, Han Yimu turned over the first page and started reading. His world froze immediately.
It was a borderline Divine method.
It was better than the one he was using beforehand.
... he was dead, for certain. He had died trying to undo Dao from himself and fix the Heart Demon, and this was him dreaming a better future. There was no other explanation as to how a borderline Divine method just appeared out of thin air in this backwater, and that from a vagabond cultivator with no sect backing.
No other explanation whatsoever.