“Like a cool drink of spring water,” he said. “My thanks.”
Elder Anses shifted in place and his partner struggled not to move her gaze, but they both thanked him and asked for pointers in refining a new version of the elixir. He told them to add mint.
The elixir was poisoned.
They had been slipping him poison almost since his first day here. Sleeping drafts mostly, but there had been some meant to inhibit his spirit, some to paralyze him, some to meddle with his memories, a handful of others.
They were always mixed cleverly, he had to admit. Almost undetectable to the tongue or to the spiritual sense, when combined with his medicine or his meals.
Every time, they watched his reaction. At first, they could have blamed a mistake. “Oh no, we added too much Nimblethorn.” But when he never said a word, they grew bolder.
They knew he had treasures, and the longer he stayed with them, the better they understood that he wasn’t going to share. If he brought up nothing from the labyrinth, they knew his sword was valuable, and they knew he was carrying herbs and seeds and elixirs they had never seen before.
They wanted to rob him, but the joke was on them.
Nothing they brewed here could seriously affect a body thrice reborn in soulfire. If the heavens shone on them and one of their concoctions worked, he carried no void key. As a Sage skilled in spatial manipulation, he stored everything but his sword in a pocket accessible only by his authority.
If they put him to sleep and rifled through his robes, they might take his sword, but they could never bring out its power. And realistically, they couldn’t do him any harm no matter how weakened he was.
There was only one being inside a thousand miles capable of being his opponent, and that was a Dreadgod.
The two Jades flattered him for a while as they led him through the snow that surrounded the Ancestor’s Tomb and back to the Heaven’s Glory School. It was late at night, so the bright ring of light madra condensed around their mountain shone like a pale sun, and their rainstone buildings gleamed as though wet.
Once again, his pity grew to balance his irritation about the poison. They thought this pathetic collection of stone huts was a school of the sacred arts.
How would they react if he showed them his memory of the Frozen Blade School?
People like this didn’t deserve his contempt. He reminded himself of that for the ten thousandth time. They were just…ignorant. Isolated. When he and Yerin left, the natives would live out their short lives in relative contentment.
Their condition wasn’t their fault, but it was hard to remain charitable when they kept trying to rob him.
The house that Heaven’s Glory had given him was close to the Ancestor’s Tomb, and at least they hadn’t skimped on space. It was a wide three-storied construction of rainstone with its own network of constructs to regulate light and water. The basement had been reinforced into a decent training room, though of course it was only appropriate for Yerin.
The elders walked him up to the doorstep, and the woman cleared her throat.
“It was an honor to serve you today, Sage of Swords.”
That wasn’t exactly his title, but Adama had never cared much for titles anyway.
“If we could learn from you tomorrow morning, it would be our good fortune.”
He choked down a groan. Every time he came out of the labyrinth, it took him longer to recover. All he wanted to do tomorrow was sleep.
But he had to show strength.
He gave them a single nod. “Not a hair after dawn,” he said. “Don’t be late.”
Only a few hours away. That should be enough to make them think he didn’t care about his rest. He could always catch up on his sleep afterwards.
Anses looked relieved, bowing to him again. “Thank you, honored Sage.”
Adama gestured them away and opened his front door.
Before he stepped inside, he waved two fingers down the entry.
Yerin’s Forger technique, the invisible blade that she’d left hanging in the doorframe, crumbled like half-melted ice at his touch.
The Hidden Sword wasn’t a major part of his Path, but it was invaluable for practicing Forging and sword resonance. She had been slacking on her Forger training.
Although it was rare as stars at midday for her to slack on anything. She just didn’t see the point of the Forger technique, which he understood. He could let it go for the moment.