He sat somewhat somberly in his seat, observing the youth tournament with tenth of his attention. It was a dull affair, as it was every year prior and will be every year to come, yet his presence here was a punishment for a sin he'd committed when he was no older than thirteen.
Every year, he had to return to the Abyss and watch soulless children hack away at one another, trying to stir whatever artificial root they were implanted with.
The arena spanned four hundred yards, embedded deep inside a mountain, with sharp, jagged sides looming from every direction. Cyan-colored soul lanterns hung from every corner, thousands of them, each connected to one of the children that was fighting or was yet to fight... or had fought, and shall fight no more.
Every so often, the color in one of the lanterns would flicker for a breath or two before it was extinguished, a dying flame turning into the last whimper.
While around seven hundred children stood lined up perfectly and unmoving around the massive arena, side by side, ordered by height, two were lashing out aggressively on the stage. Both were boys, twelve or so years old, wielding nothing but their tiny fists.
By now, he estimated that all their fingers were broken, one of the boys had definitely broken his jaw, the other his nose, and it would be a miracle if either could see past four or five feet with how swollen their eyes got.
And yet they fought.
They fought without so much as a wince or a grunt of pain.
"... this crop is not good," someone on his left commented. They were merely a shadow shaped like a person, as they were not physically here. But, from the voice, he could discern it was likely Sage of Madness. "Was there an issue?"
"A small one," a man who was here alongside him replied; it was Sage of Virtue, who was charged with raising the current generation. "Due to some incidents, a few of our vines were nulled, and because of that the total yield of Life Qi was not enough to match the roots of the previous generations. There are approximately ten percent fewer Heaven-grade Roots."
"Incidents?" another shadow said. "What incidents? Why hasn't it been reported?"
"Because they are minor," a different voice added, Sage of Shadows. His words silenced the hubbub that was emerging. Besides him, Sage of Shadows was the highest-ranked one currently present, standing at 13th spot. "The main culprit is that the base roots of these vermin were too low."
"Are you saying that it was our fault?"
"I am saying it is merely an unfortunate anomaly," the man reiterated, appearing entirely apathetic.
He could never quite used to just how pale Shadow's skin was; under right light, one could see through it.
"One bad generation does not undo the progress we've made thus far," he continued. "Wisdom," Shadow turned toward him. "You'll investigate the recent incidents. Do not reveal yourself. If they turn out to be connected, return and we'll form an investigative team."
"Yes." he nodded--all he could do.
He still cursed the day he came to that tower, begging for bread.
He should have just dropped dead instead.
**
"Father, why haven't you punished her yet?!" he'd grown tired of the whiny voice screeching through the halls, yet remained patient.
Continuing to water the Moonstalk, and without looking over to face him, Qian Yuan spoke.
"Have I not?" he said. "I sent her to battle the infernal."
"But--"
"--it will be alright, Chun'er," he said, softening his voice slightly. "You should go back. Your wounds haven't healed completely yet."
"... yes, Father."
Though he did not see it, he could hear the gritted teeth through which the words were spoken and the angered footsteps as they bounce against the wooden floor.
Sighing, he slowly stood up, looking over the garden of his making; this year's crop was just about to blossom, but the Haw'en had failed to bloom yet again.
He finally turned and faced the direction of the boy who'd stomped away; though he'd asked Shuren for what happened as well, as he knew Chun'er's account of things was likely enhanced due to his humiliation, she was... silent. She must have been realized she was being replaced, but the fact that she openly defied him by stating that Chun had aggravated the situation and broke the pact, without uttering a single word as to who the people with her were... it bothered him.
He sent her to the mid-realm simply as means of buying time, to try and understand what to do. It was impossible to simply discard her; he'd put in far too much effort and wealth into rearing her, and though he'd stopped favoring her, she was still his Disciple.
A fitting punishment, however, had to be meted out, as otherwise others might see it as an opening.
Sighing, he retreated into the central hall and paused--there was an uninvited guest there, sitting rather lazily on his cushion and nibbling away at some blood grapes.
"What are you doing?" he asked somewhat harshly.
"Eating," he said. "Have you gotten so old that you've started losing sight already?"
"... did you come just to annoy me?"
"As much fun as that is, no," he said. "I'm here for the latest batch."
"You must have done something wrong to be sent as a delivery."
"The cargo is simply that precious this time around," he grinned. "Master is looking forward to it."
"..."
"Ah, don't look so sour. The end of the promise is nearing; if you fulfill it, Master will fulfill his promise."
"Here," he tossed him a spatial ring and the man caught it, fiddling with it for a moment and likely checking its contents.
"Nice," he said. "I've noticed a slight influx of children on the island. Are you being invaded?"
"Hardly," he shrugged. "Those old things like to send children around this time as the war tends to ramp up. For training purposes, they say."
"And you let them," he said. "For a fee."
"... you've got what you came for. Why are you still here?"
"What? Can't two old friends sit around and just catch up for a bit?"
"Friends? I don't recall you being my friend when you beat me near to death."
"Ha ha, are you still holding a grudge over that? Come on, that was ages ago! That won't do, little Yuan. If you wish to come back to the Sect, old grudges must be forgiven. Besides, if you hadn't been adamant over becoming a cultivator, you could have saved us all a headache. You would have probably become the Chief Alchemist by now, I imagine. Instead, you're here, rotting in this godforsaken corner of the world. Funny how life works, huh?"
"... you should leave, Yong," he said through gritted teeth, too, feeling a bit more empathetic toward that child. "I'm sure there are plenty of others you need to annoy."
"... indeed," he grinned, standing up. "This was fun. I might just make this a regular thing from now on. Gets me out for some fresh air."
Before Yuan could retort, the man was gone, leaving him so angered that he drove a fist through a wall.
How lamentable.
If only he had his brother's talent, that would have been him. A quasi-Emperor before ten millennia of living, poised to become a fully-fledged one within the next century.
It could have been his--no, it will be his. Soon, it would all be his.