The Innkeeper

A few seconds went by, and the Innkeeper said nothing. This pause, this unanticipated delay in his speech allowed everyone to ruminate over his words. The essence of the Midnight Games was to treat Fate as a game?

If the Innkeeper had such a thing about himself, none would have doubted his words. But the thing was, he likened himself to a spectator, just like the others, and turned these few, weak armies on such a high pedestal. It was nigh unbelievable, and yet it was true.

They tasted the flavors of his words, and found it deep and rich. Could any of them deny the truth of his words? At the beginning of these games, each and every participant was a nobody.

They were the lowest of the low, without a heritage, without powerful backing, without innate strengths or bloodlines that would turn them into elites. Each of them was at the end of their cultivation journey, and the only thing that they had was a resolute heart, and a mission.

Some of them fought to protect their worlds. Some of them fought for revenge. Others fought because they were paid to. A few even fought because they were searching for death. Yet through the process, what they attained was something elite from across the realm would envy.

They got recognition. They got opportunities. Their cultivation talents were improved, their old wounds healed, their futures changed. Indeed, none could deny that these mortals, no more significant in the grand scheme of things than a single grain of sand in a desert, had through the Midnight Games played with fate, and come out the victors.

Finally, the Innkeeper spoke again.

“Mortals play games of chess. Kings and rulers play the game of thrones. Cultivators play a game of defiance, going against what they were born with, striving for greater power, for a greater horizon. But here, during the Midnight Games, we play against the bounds of causality, against the limitations of birth, against all who would stand in our way.

“Play, and all you stand to lose is your life. For a cultivator on the path to the peak, the threat of death is a constant companion. It is there in the dark, where even the faintest of light fears to enter. It is present in the light, under the glorious banners of the righteous. When you are all alone, it accompanies you closer than your dearest sweetheart, and when you are with friends, it is always a part of the crowd.

“To say you are a cultivator, and then to not risk your life is a contradiction. So when the Midnight Games are played, all you stand to lose is your life. But what you stand to gain… is everything.”

Lex could not retrieve things from the Inn to himself because they could not enter his system inventory. But at any time, he could submit what he was holding to the Gift Shop to be sold, given that there were no restrictions on the item itself. Similarly, he could deposit anything in his possession to the Inn to be used as a reward for the games.

The reason the weed plant had developed a Dao aura was because Lex hadn’t absorbed enough of the mist around him to heal. Oddly enough, he couldn’t absorb this mist as he normally absorbed other energy, which created a bottleneck.

However, he could do something else.

Just as he finished speaking, he started channeling the mist towards his system, using it as an additional reward for all the armies who participated in the games. Although this mist was incredibly potent, and a little unusual, since it hadn’t caused a huge change in his body – like the Chaos Amber resin had – Lex figured that it wasn’t too precious.

The herbs and weeds around him probably had more value, so he could use those as main gifts. A little mist, however, didn’t seem bad as a small side offering.

So, just as the echoes of the Innkeepers last words finished, a thin mist enveloped all the armies, right in plain view of all those watching.

Wu Kong’s jaw dropped. This was not something he had anticipated at all.

Each and every participant who entered the Midnight Games suddenly closed their eyes and fell into a trance, their bodies greedily absorbing the mist. But they weren’t the only ones.

The Midnight Realm itself began to greedily absorb the mist, and the rate of its growth suddenly shot up.

The Galactic Sovereign turtle, who was minding his own business and not at all enticing a local forest into forming a pantheon of deities for his fledgling Heaven project, suddenly turned and looked towards the projection of the Innkeeper.

He inhaled, and some of the mist suddenly flew all the way over to him and entered his lungs.

“This is good stuff,” he muttered, and quickly captured a bit and stored it inside his shell, to be used at a later date for a personal project of his.

Simultaneously, many groups across the universe who had no idea about what was happening in the Midnight Inn, suddenly started holding meetings for there was a sudden fluctuation in the universal Karma. Actually, fluctuation was too tame a word to describe what happened. A Karmic tsunami had struck the universe, and no one could figure out why.

It only made sense, after all, it was no longer possible to divine things about the Midnight Inn. Any divination or prophecy that pointed at the Inn, now automatically pointed towards the one Heaven that made up the universe.

It was a good thing too, or else greed would have caused someone to do something drastic. As it was, the arrival of the mist only lasted a couple of seconds – despite Lex’s attempts to send more back. For some reason, he could not figure out, his System could no longer detect the mist.

Deep within the V.A.N. an angry Kun Peng was staring at Lex and grumbling to himself, while many others just watched along and chuckled.

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