Descension (BL Xianxia Fantasy Romance) BOOK 4

"What's going on?" Li Yao shouted from his wagon, his voice carrying above the grumbling crowd and creaking wheels. His irritation was directed at Xiao Delun, whose carriage had come to a halt ahead of his.

Xiao Delun, seated atop his carriage and holding the reins with one hand, leaned to the side to shout back. "There's a problem with the ship at the docks! Passengers are stranded, and the road is completely blocked. We can't move any farther from here."

Li Yao sighed heavily, muttering curses under his breath. Beside him, I squinted toward the distant line of carriages stretching along the road. The air buzzed with agitation as travelers, merchants, and cultivators alike craned their necks to see what the commotion was about.

I strained my ears. The distant roar of water reached me even from here. "We're close to the river."

"Just around the bend," Li Yao confirmed, gesturing with his chin. "You'll see it once you get there."

I nodded and hopped down from the carriage, landing lightly on the dusty road. "I'll go ahead and see what's happening. I'll come back and let you know."

Li Yao waved me off. "Fine. Just find us around here when you're done. I need to pull over before this line turns into chaos."

The road ahead was packed with carriages and restless travelers, forcing me to weave my way through the throng. As I neared the docks, the buzz of conversation grew louder. I soon spotted a crowd gathered near the riverbank, their attention fixed on something in the water. Most of them were cultivators, and not just any cultivators—they were predominantly level six dark path practitioners, their auras faintly ominous even in the midday sun.

It didn't take long to deduce why they were here. The congregation. The invitation I received specifically mentioned the presence of sect leaders, which meant most of these cultivators were likely leaders of smaller dark path sects. Despite the common claim that Xianru Empire only had one prominent dark sect, the sheer number of these cultivators suggested otherwise. It seemed smaller sects still thrived in the empire's shadows.

Curiosity piqued, I pushed my way closer to the docks, eager to understand what was causing the delay. The river before me was calm, its surface shimmering in the sunlight. Yet the ship—a colossal vessel meant to ferry passengers across the water—sat immobile in the middle of the river. Something was clearly wrong.

"There's something clutching the base of the ship," a voice in the crowd murmured.

"Could it be another mutated plant monster like the last time?" someone else speculated, their tone wary.

A mutated plant monster?

My interest deepened, and I began maneuvering through the crowd, slipping past murmuring cultivators and disgruntled travelers. The chatter grew louder as I approached the river's edge, snippets of conversation painting an incomplete picture of the situation.

"The Dark Wind Master's been working on it for over an hour now," someone nearby remarked.

I froze mid-step.

The Dark Wind Master? My master? The eccentric old man whose real name remained a mystery to everyone?

A wave of disbelief washed over me as I craned my neck to see past the heads of the crowd. Sure enough, there he was.

Perched on a small boat near the stranded ship, the Dark Wind Master stood with his hands on his hips, his tattered robes flapping lightly in the breeze. He seemed wholly focused on something beneath the water's surface, his demeanor as sharp and commanding as ever. The sight of him stirred a mix of exasperation and amusement within me.

I hadn't seen him in a year.

And now, here he was—still wild, still terrifying.

"Are there no other sect leaders here who can help?" a frustrated voice rang out from the crowd. "I heard there's a congregation taking place in Liuye soon. Some of them must be around here."

I scanned the crowd instinctively, and sure enough, my eyes landed on Ruan Yanjun.

He stood apart from the others, near the edge of the dock, tall and motionless with his hands clasped behind his back. The wind caught the edge of his dark robe, lending him an even more imposing air. His presence was unmistakable—refined, distant, and entirely composed. He watched the unfolding scene as if it were a leisurely drama rather than a mounting crisis.

It didn't escape my notice that he looked fully recovered now—his injuries from the ambush no longer visible. If he wanted to, he could end this farce in an instant. A single strike from him would be more than enough to deal with whatever was holding the ship. But instead, he just stood there, observing, unmoving.

As always—powerful enough to help, but too detached to bother.

Still selfish, still indifferent, still Ruan Yanjun.

Down on the river, the Dark Wind Master suddenly paused mid-motion. His head jerked toward the crowd, sharp eyes narrowing. I saw the familiar shift in his gaze—the look he gave when sensing spiritual energy nearby.

My heart skipped a beat, and I instinctively stepped back, ducking behind a burly man in front of me. I didn't want to be seen. It had been a year since my last encounter with the Dark Wind Master, and I knew I had broken my promise to find him after escorting Ruan Yanjun home. Facing him now filled me with a gnawing unease.

"I see my ungrateful disciple has arrived," came the Dark Wind Master's unmistakable voice. Sharp. Dry. Loud enough to cut through the murmurs and still the crowd.

I froze, my stomach tightening.

Is he referring to me?

"Wind Master Luo Fan," he called, his voice laced with both sarcasm and biting authority.

The title made me blink. Wind Master? Had he truly just addressed me by that name—as if I'd already accepted the role of his successor? I hadn't even answered that call, let alone prepared for it. Yet here he was, declaring it aloud for everyone to hear.

"Stop hiding your arse and come down here to lend your master a hand!" he barked.

The crowd shifted, murmuring, craning their necks to see who he was referring to.

I sighed. There was no point pretending anymore.

Stepping out from behind the stranger, I offered a shallow bow to the gathered onlookers and began making my way down the dock. Their gazes trailed after me like a tide.

My master's eyes followed my every step, his expression unreadable but heavy with expectations. The scolding in his tone had already begun.

"Master," I said as I drew close, clasping my hands respectfully. "It's good to see you again."

"You worthless disciple," he snapped, waving his hand as if shooing a fly. "Save your breath. If you'd really meant that, you would've found me months ago. Now get your lazy backside to work and help me get this damned ship free!"

I sighed again, feeling the judgmental stares of the crowd on my back.

With one smooth motion, I leapt into the air and landed on the small boat beside him. The wooden vessel rocked beneath my feet, but I remained steady.

"Move to that one," he ordered, pointing to another skiff nearby. "Blast the mud from under the hull while I dislodge it from this side."

"Understood," I replied simply. I leapt again, landing on the second boat he indicated.

As I began forming a spiritual seal in my palm, I risked one last glance toward the dock.

Ruan Yanjun still stood there.

Watching me.

That unreadable look on his face hadn't changed. Neither had the way he made the world feel smaller just by standing still.

I turned back toward the river. There was no time to think about him now.

I followed the Dark Wind Master's instructions carefully, guiding my boat closer to the vessel's base. But despite my efforts—striking with precise qi-infused slashes and sweeping away silt—the ship refused to budge.

Frustration gnawed at me as I steadied myself on the edge of the rocking skiff, squinting down at the murky water.

"Master," I called out finally, noting something strange. "There's something under the hull. Looks like a giant weed or root—it's wrapped tight around the base. We'll have to cut it off."

The Dark Wind Master didn't so much as glance in my direction. "I know what it is. You think I'm blind?"

I bit back a sigh. "So what's the plan, then?"

"Cut it off."

"That's exactly what I just said," I muttered under my breath—loud enough for him to hear.

His sharp glare whipped toward me across the water. I went quiet.

Summoning a spiritual blade at the tip of my staff, I struck at the tangled vine with a clean, decisive slash. The blade sliced through it with ease. But just when I thought I'd succeeded, the severed weed began to regenerate. Writhing tendrils thickened and spread like a living parasite, doubling in size within seconds.

"The more I cut it, the bigger it gets!" I shouted, leaping back as the vines lashed outward.

"Then cut it all off in one go!" my master barked. His tone made it clear that this should have been obvious from the beginning.

I hesitated, gauging the twisted mass of the vine. "I'll have to go into the water to get underneath it."

"So what are you waiting for?"

I scratched behind my ear, stalling. "Master… I can't swim."

The Dark Wind Master turned slowly to face me, his expression one of absolute disbelief. "Your sect is surrounded by the sea, and you can't swim?"

I looked away, feigning deep interest in the water's ripples. "It never came up."

"You don't need to swim. Just get in, hold your breath, and slice it clean. The water's not deep," he added with a dismissive wave, as though the entire thing was a minor errand.

I peered down at the river's surface. It looked calm, deceptively still. But like everyone always said—still water runs deep. And if ships passed through here regularly, it had to be very deep.

Still, there wasn't time to complain. I didn't need to swim. I just needed to dive, hold my breath, and get it done.

Resigned, I let out a long sigh and leapt into the water.

I was right. The riverbed was far deeper than it looked. Without channeling qi to keep myself buoyant, I would have sunk like a rock.

The cold hit me like a slap to the chest. My breath seized. Robes clung like a second skin, dragging against my limbs as I sank. In the murky dark, the writhing silhouette of the monstrous weed loomed ahead.

"This master's no different from Ruan Yanjun," I grumbled internally. "Pushy. Insufferable. And that devil—he's still just standing there, isn't he?"

I forced the thought aside and steadied my grip on the staff. The spiritual blade shimmered in the gloom. I began cutting with swift, deliberate movements, severing the vines where they twisted around the ship's keel. Each slice weakened the creature's grip.

The weed flailed, trying to reattach, but I worked faster. One final sweep of my blade severed the thick core. The entire mass recoiled, floating away in ribbons of dark green.

Above me, I heard the ship groan—its hull shifting as the obstruction finally released.

The Dark Wind Master's wind surged like a sudden gale. I kicked toward the surface, lungs burning.

When I broke through, gasping, the crowd on the docks erupted into cheers. Cries of triumph rang through the air. The ship, freed at last, began to drift again with the current.

Dripping wet and barely breathing, I pulled myself back onto the boat. My hands trembled slightly as I shook water from my hair, the chill clinging to my skin.

"Luo Fan, my friend! You did it!" a familiar voice shouted.

I looked up, blinking through droplets, to see Xiao Delun waving enthusiastically from the dock.

I mustered a tired smile.

Then I glanced down at myself.

My once-immaculate white robes were soaked through, plastered to my skin. Utterly ruined.

The moment of calm shattered beneath a deafening wail, guttural and otherworldly, echoing from the depths of the river. Before I could react, something immense burst from the water with explosive force. A grotesque, pulsating mass unfurled above us, casting a wide, shifting shadow over the boats and crowd.

It was no mere weed.

The monstrous creature, once hidden beneath the river, revealed itself in full. It was a mutated plant abomination, crowned with thrashing, sap-slick tendrils and a grotesque, pulsing core. Crimson eyes glared from the center of its fleshy bloom, radiating fury and agony as it shrieked.