The Forsaken-Grade Cultivator
Chapter 37: Fate is dead

Chapter 37: Fate is dead

Ying’s ’informed’ guess turned out to be wrong, and like every action, he was forced to bear the brunt of consequences.

The rotating silver discs were not after images, not in the slightest.

They were, in fact, real attacks. Weaved into being by a strange, almost otherworldly movement befitting a true master of the arts. Each lustrous cyclone represented its own doom, and they all bore down on Ying’s frame.

The combined force crashed upon Ying’s unprepared self, and the last vestiges of strength disappeared from his muscles. Ying collapsed.

There was no pain clouding his thought process... yet, but it would seem his body had hit its intrusive limit. Ying could no longer stand against his opponent - his virtual body simply wouldn’t allow it.

"..."

As though that was not already enough, his Title force deactivated itself too.

Unapologetically thrusting him into the throes of hurt. He could suddenly feel everything. Every cut, every bruise, every welt, every wound, every gust of breeze that scrapped the wounds... it felt horrible.

"Argh –!"

He trembled pitifully as he groaned, not anticipating the sudden shift from calm to hurt. It seemed even his title had its limits, ’How is Qing Lo even able to fight with such pain flooding his mind?’ he wondered between grit teeth and popping eyes.

Fortunately for him, the pain slowly diluted itself, as though some sort of emergency response of the game had kicked in. Ying couldn’t tell. He had blocked all notifications after all.

Not that he minded the help.

Suddenly, Ying asked himself a question.

It wasn’t particularly relevant to his situation, but the thought popped up in his mind regardless.

’D-dammit, it hurts! Everything hurts! Why the hell am I going through so much pain because of a damned game?! I can just log out, can’t I? Ugh, don’t tell me... am I a masochist too...?’

It was a pointless thought, but he was not even given the time to ponder it as a powerful kick sent him flying across the room. He crashed into the grey wall, again, coughing and vomiting blood. Then straining his neck, he looked up.

There, he saw Qing Lo’s bleeding figure approach him slowly and cautiously... Well, not like he could do anything at this point. His system was by now probably overflowing with messages like:

[-25HP]

[-50HP]

[Warning! Your HP has gone below 5%!]

"Urgh... Karma really is a bitch, isn’t she?" Ying spat in self-spite. He wasn’t particularly fearful about losing his life in the game or anything, but earlier, he had made a promise to himself...

...A promise he had failed to redeem.

He looked towards the man who had bested him, seemingly expecting some sort of response from him, but none came.

"Nothing huh? Tsk, should have known-!" Ying was abruptly cut off mid sentence.

"I agree... To think that I would be committing the very same act that motivated me to tread the path of Cultivation in the first place..." Qing Lo’s eyes grew visibly dimmer as thoughts of a time past resurfaced.

Ying, slightly intrigued, but mostly trying to buy time for his automatic regeneration, raised a brow.

"Care to share? I’d be more than happy to hear your story..." He offered, but alas Qing Lo shook his head in rejection.

"I prefer not to, besides what is the point of telling someone who will soon be..."

Once again, Qing Lo’s voiced trailed off. His solemn expression grew darker as he prepared himself for what he was about to do.

’Dammit Gen Z! Of all the times.... you choose now to NOT trauma brag,’ Ying grit his teeth. He needed to stall for time, somehow!

What would happen if he got kidnapped in the game and logged out?

Would he respawn in the forest like usual, or...?

’Sigh...Spoken like a true loser.’

Ying’s thoughts were interrupted by a voice. The voice did not belong to him, but his muddled mind didn’t even register the words.

"Sigh... To think I would end up having to use that skill. Honestly, although I went easy a little for fear of killing you, I was half unsure if you would survive. But I guess all of my worries were for naught." Qing Lo stopped before Ying’s sprawled figure.

"...!!"

"Answer me this, child..." Qing Lo’s aged voice suddenly interrupted Ying’s thoughts.

"Of course, you are free to not answer the question. After all, there is nothing to gain from this, but I’ll ask nonetheless. Where is the Flowing Sword Art’s Scripture, where have you hidden it?"

Qing Lo asked shamelessly, to which there was a resounding silence.

"...!!!"

For a long time, Ying and Qing Lo did nothing but stare each other dead in the eyes. The former’s eyes seemed glassy, lost in thought, while the latter’s were brimming with a tame sort of resolve. Neither of their gazes faltered, and for a long time, quiet heralded the gray room.

The tension was palpable.

Xian Shan – who had been characteristically silent all this time – tried to speak, tried to break this omen of silence.

But she was just a half step too slow.

In the end, Ying got the first blood. And what did he say?

"He... Hehe... HEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

He laughed, hysterically.

"Pfft... I *Pfft* thought I was the only one... but to think there was actually another human being who could be so damn shameless! Haha, or wait don’t tell me, is it just a characteristic of washed up has beens?" Ying taunted uncaringly, as though he had finally lost it.

"...Like I said, you don’t have to answer the question, sir." Qing Lo retorted sassily, a distinct vein bulging on his fore-head, but you could always expect the foul mouth to have some sort of response prepared.

"Sir? Not answer the question? I’m offended, how could I ever possibly do such a thing...?" Ying feigned distraught, then raised his middle fingers, "It’s not much, but I sincerely hope that this is of help to your endeavours." He smirked.

"...!!"

Qing Lo was visibly put off by Ying’s brazen behaviour, but he maintained his cool, pushing down his thoughts to shove his blade down Ying’s oesophagus..... He even assumed a more friendly tone.

"Look... I understand your sentiments, I really do. And I won’t try to apologize to you or anything, but if nothing else, you should know that your death will save my life as well as this entire household’s. You saved the young Lady’s life once, and you are about to save it again. You are a hero, and your sacrifice shall not be forgotten... Master Ying. "

Qing Lo’s voice, his words, sounded genuine.

His soft expression and humbled gait gave off a melancholic sort of endearment, hell, it was almost inspiring even!

Almost.

In the end, sweet nothing was still that – nothing, and this rung doubly so to a sceptic Ying. Lies were lies, whether they were clever or dumb... but mistruth coated with the sprinkles of concepts like honour, were nothing more than utter–

’Bullshit! A hero? YOUR hero? What a load of bullshit!’ Ying grit his teeth.

’Could this bullshit bastard be any more of a bullshitter?! Trying to bullshit me into becoming a bullshit martyr, what a load of crap! You, that bitch over there, and the rest of this dog turd family can all go to hell!’

Ying shot Qing Lo a glare.

The cellar was dark, with the only source of light being the dim artefact that hung at the centre, casting a veil of darkness over Ying’s form. Strands of dirty black hair fell down his face, bruised and battered as it was... But his eyes... His eyes were like a wormhole. His hatred swallowing both light and darkness.

’That look in your eyes... that pity, that sympathy... it’s ugly, I hate it.... I’ll wipe it off your damned face!’

Ying raged, and pulled out his tongue, setting it right between the jaws of his teeth, eyes filled with a lunatic’s intensity. The way they widened within their sockets, was reminiscent of a deranged maniac....

Seeing this, Qing Lo instantly realized what Ying was up to.

He nearly stumbled – traces of alarm even making it to his face. But the expression was as fleeting as teenage love. It didn’t last long at all.

"I know what you’re thinking of doing, and it is very stupid. Take it from me, child, I’m the elder. I know what’s best. Taking your own life because of a brief moment of mental obscurity is foolish. You’re not thinking strai – "

"I’m perfectly fine."

"...!"

"Sigh... I understand your annoyance, but your actions are what baffle me. How can one be so... unrepentant?! Apparently, the poison we set up didn’t have any effect on you, so why did you still linger here? You’re smart. You would have escaped, somehow. So why... Why choose to stay here, and risk death?!"

Qing Lo’s warm façade started to wane.

Slowly, but surely, it was beginning to crumble. It seemed that Ying was the main culprit of the incidence, but even then, his venomous glare didn’t relent. Not one bit.

"Because I wanted to." He responded flatly.

"...."

"Eh?" The expert was bewildered, "You stayed because... You wanted to? So you just... Essentially, sealed your own fate?"

Having lived for nearly a century now, Qing Lo was very knowledgeable when it came to a lot of topics, but the one thing he could never fully understand, even after all that time.... Was human will.

Hearing the Steward’s words, Ying scoffed, "Fate, what fate?"

"Are you speaking of the ’Fate’ that already cast me aside before I even arrived in this shitty world, or is it pray tell the ’fate’ that lead me up to this point, right into your depraved clutches? Take it from me, there is no such thing. Fate is dead. And it’s been dead for a really long time now. But even if it isn’t, even if it still lingers out there, somewhere... I’ll find it, and then I’ll kill it."

It was as simple as that.

But Qing Lo didn’t seem to be of the same opinion, as his face contorted. He scowled

"You’ll kill it...? You’ll kill fate...? Fool.... You insolent, arrogant, FOOL!! You are the same as the young master you persecuted; your ego is what will lead to your downfall!" Qing Lo bellowed in irritation, but that didn’t change anything.

Ying still stared at him, his arms hanged limply due to pain, but his tongue never once shifted from in-between his dentition.

Heck, he even pressed down on it!

"To bite the tongue off in a single attempt requires great strength AND willpower, you don’t have the guts. But even if you did, oh great ’Fate Slayer’, which do you think is faster, my arm, or your teeth?" Qing Lo questioned, his entire countenance turning grave.

He no longer sugar coated his words. Fate was an essential part of Daoism; it was one of the many pillars of Cultivation. And such a flawed way of thinking, to him at least, was unbefitting of someone who retained the gift of Cultivation!

’He doesn’t deserve it.... He doesn’t deserve the power to Cultivate the Dao. I’m an infinitely better choice. Why did the Dao chose to forsake ME?! ’

....If only he knew.

Ying did not answer, there was no need to. His eyes did all the talking:

’Take another step and find out.’

"...!"

A brief silence, then...

Whoosh!

Chomp!

Ying bit down with all his strength, and simultaneously, Qing Lo’s body flickered forward. Ying’s teeth dug through the tongue, but Qing Lo’s speeding arm was already upon him.

Who was faster?

Only time could tell, and indeed, it did. In an instant, everything was over, the battle ended. All it took was a fleeting moment, and the long strife had finally come to an end....