“Open,” the Sage of the Endless Sword commanded, and the door obeyed.
It swung open on soundless hinges, leaving him leaning on nothing and stumbling out. With trembling arms, he slammed the heavy door shut behind him.
Some fingers of hunger madra had come so close that they were crushed by the scripted door.
Adama heaved a breath, slumping back against the carving. All thoughts of vacationing in Sacred Valley vanished. This had been too close of a cut. Bleed and bury the people who made this maze.
Now he was more exhausted than it was normally possible for him to be, and he still had to deal with a bunch of Jades.
The two Heaven’s Glory Jades peeked in at him from the entrance of the mausoleum-like structure they called the Ancestor’s Tomb. When they saw the door was shut, they scurried inside to attend to him.
He had warned them early on not to be close to him when he opened the door, lest they be struck dead by the hunger madra within. They couldn’t open the door themselves, so they had only his word to go on, but they’d trusted him. So far.
He almost looked forward to the day when they tested him, because he’d told them the absolute truth.
From the inside pocket of his outer robe, he pulled his badge. The locals grew uncomfortable when they saw him without one.
The badge hung on a shadesilk ribbon, like most of those worn in Sacred Valley. His badge was plated in white metal the exact color of his blade, though its border and the sword symbol in the center remained bronze.
Wintersteel was too expensive to make into an entire badge, but it was also the symbol of a true Sage.
As long as the people of Sacred Valley respected these ancient traditions, so would he.
The two elders, one a gray-haired woman wearing a Jade scepter badge and another a man with a hammer badge and a mutilated arm, saluted with fists pressed together as they reached him.
“I regret that your expedition was no more productive this time, honored Sage,” Elder Anses said.
Adama had a hard time keeping his contempt hidden from these inept children. They had no idea what a Sage was, only a few vague stories passed down about the title. They thought he was a Gold, and they worshiped him for it.
He stopped leaning against the door and straightened his back, controlling his breathing. He still had command over his body, and he wasn’t willing to show any lapse of control to Heaven’s Glory.
“Empty hands for me, I’m afraid,” the Sword Sage said.
There were other labyrinth entrances in the Valley, and some of them were safe for Jades. At least in the outer rooms.
Therefore, everyone who lived here knew that valuable treasures could be found inside. He had been forced to promise a share of anything he recovered to Heaven’s Glory in exchange for access.
So, of course, he hid everything he found in the labyrinth inside his private void space.
Anses and the other elder eyed him as though they suspected him of tucking constructs into his robes, but they respected his power even now.
He had shown them only the smallest glimpse of his abilities, and that had been enough for them to treat him like a warrior descended from the heavens.
His pity for them matched his contempt. If not for that, and for the fact that he was too lazy to wash his own clothes and prepare his own meals, he would have punished them long ago for trying to poison him.
Right on cue, the woman produced a stoppered clay bottle from her robes. “Apologies, honored guest, but we have used our lacking skills to prepare a recovery elixir for you. Please taste it yourself and share some small measure of your wisdom with us.”
Wordlessly, Adama took the bottle from her. He didn’t remember her name. Frankly, he had made it a point to forget the names of every Heaven’s Glory elder. Anses had only stuck in his mind because of the man’s mangled arm.
Oh, and he remembered Whitehall, the old man trapped in a boy’s body. That was a bizarre case Adama wouldn’t have minded researching further, had he not been in Sacred Valley for a more important purpose.
Moving his gaze from one elder’s eyes to the other’s, he gulped the “medicine” down. He never looked away from them as he finished, tossed the bottle back, and wiped his mouth with the back of