Chapter 174 The Gate of Pride

Chapter 174: Chapter 175: The Gate of Pride

One of the quiet perks of having a strength stat of 131 was that Daniel’s body healed like it was embarrassed to still be hurt.

By the time they reached the sixth gate, the swelling in his hand had gone down to a dull ache, his ribs had stopped complaining, and his left arm had decided to start working again. He flexed his fingers as they walked and decided, privately, that he was a very impressive person.

"You’re smiling," Lyra said.

"I’m admiring my own fist."

"It almost got you killed."

"It also bled a stage-four guy." He held it up. "I’m proud of it."

"That," said Paul, "is exactly the kind of thing the next gate is going to hate."

"What do you mean?"

Paul nodded ahead. "Look."

The sixth gate stood in the center of a wide, round plaza of white stone, a ring of polished silver as tall as a church door. Behind it, a still pool of dark water spread across the floor like a mirror, and every one of the sixty or so participants gathered in the plaza was reflected in it, upside down, faces pale and watchful.

On the stone beside the arch stood a plaque.

THE GATE OF PRIDE. THE PROUD ARE HEAVY. THE LIGHT PASS.

Under it, someone had scratched a few words with a sharp stone.

*It weighs you. Don’t lie.*

"It weighs us," Daniel read slowly. "How?"

"Watch," said Su Wan.

Across the plaza, a young man in a red robe stepped up to the arch, chin high, and the silver ring flashed.

"WEIGHT," said the gate, in its deep, patient voice. "FORTY-TWO KILOGRAMS."

A faint grey shadow fell across the young man’s shoulders like a sack of flour. He staggered, grunted, then straightened and walked through with his teeth gritted.

"That’s not so bad," Lyra said.

"That’s *forty-two*," said Su Wan. "Wait until you see the proud."

---

They did not have to wait long.

A voice rolled across the plaza, bright, amused, and perfectly pitched to carry.

"Well, well. If it isn’t the Napper."

Long Tian stood in the middle of the plaza with his arms folded, a dozen golden-armored disciples fanned out behind him like a bodyguard of peacocks. His lip had a thin scab on it. His pauldron had been patched with a clean gold plate. His smile was exactly as polished as before.

"I was starting to worry," Long Tian said. "I thought perhaps you’d stopped for a nap."

"I did, actually," said Daniel. "At the second gate. It was lovely."

A ripple of laughter ran through the disciples, but it was thin and uneasy. They had all seen the way Long Tian touched his lip.

Beside him stood a huge man in iron-grey armor, arms like tree trunks, a vein pulsing in his temple. Daniel recognized him at once. It was the giant from the first gate, the one who had been shouting at the arch.

"Heng Bao," Long Tian said genially. "Of the Iron Mountain Sect. Tell Daniel what you told me."

"He wants a harem," Heng Bao rumbled, and spat. "That’s what the gate heard. A *harem*. The seventh-ranked clearer, the great Napper, wants to be a pervert."

A few of the disciples snickered.

Daniel considered this.

"It was a very honest answer," he said.

"It was disgusting."

"It was *true*. Yours was ’honor to my sect.’ The gate called you a liar three times." Daniel smiled at him warmly. "How long did it take you to find something true, Heng Bao?"

The giant’s face went through several violent colors.

"Enough," Long Tian said smoothly. "This is not the time. Come, Su Wan. The gate is waiting, and so am I."

Su Wan did not move.

"Su Wan."

"I will walk the gate on my own terms," she said, in a very flat voice.

"Oh?" Long Tian’s smile did not move. "And what terms are those?"

"The ones I choose."

For the first time, Daniel saw something in Long Tian’s face crack. Not anger, exactly. More like surprise, as if a favorite tool had spoken back.

"I see," Long Tian said softly. "Then we will let the gate decide."

He turned and strode up to the silver arch with his head held high, golden armor flashing, every inch the heir of the Golden Dragon Clan.

"WEIGHT," said the gate. "FOUR THOUSAND KILOGRAMS."

The air itself bent.

A black mass crashed onto Long Tian’s shoulders, a weight like an anvil dropped from a rooftop. He buckled. His knees hit the white stone with a crack that echoed across the plaza. The golden crest on his shoulder crumpled, and he caught himself on both palms, teeth bared, veins standing out at his temples.

The silence in the plaza was absolute.

"I... am... the heir," Long Tian ground out. "Of the Golden Dragon..."

"WEIGHT," said the gate. "SIX THOUSAND KILOGRAMS."

"What?"

"PRIDE IN NAME. PRIDE IN CLAN. PRIDE IN BLOOD. THE HEAVIER YOU BOAST, THE HEAVIER YOU ARE."

Long Tian’s palms cracked the stone.

He tried to rise. Gold light flared around him, the same terrible pressure that had flattened Daniel’s friends in the gorge, and the weight on his back doubled. His retinue flinched. One of them took a step toward him and then stopped as the gate’s voice cut across the plaza.

"NO FORCE. NO HELP. THE PROUD CARRY THEIR OWN."

Heng Bao stared. His mouth worked silently.

"Well, that’s one way to find out how much you weigh," Lyra whispered.

Daniel was already walking.

---

He strolled across the plaza with his hands in his pockets, humming slightly. Long Tian lay on all fours in the center of the white stone, golden hair hanging in his face, breath coming in short, furious gasps. His disciples had gone very quiet.

Daniel stopped in front of him and crouched down so they were eye to eye.

"Morning," he said.

Long Tian looked up. His eyes were no longer pleasant or empty. They were pure poison.

"I will kill you," he breathed.

"That’s what everyone says." Daniel tilted his head. "Do you remember what you told me, back in the gorge? ’I will buy you a coffin.’"

"I... remember."

"I thought about that all the way here. And I’ve decided that I would like to respond." He straightened, rolled up his sleeve, and looked up at the silver arch. "Excuse me, Gate?"

"YES?"

"Is slapping a form of force?"

The gate was silent for a long moment, apparently considering the matter.

"THE GATE DOES NOT CARE," it said at last.

"Wonderful."

Daniel turned back to Long Tian, cocked his right arm, and slapped him across the face.

CRACK.

It was an extraordinary sound. It rang out across the white plaza like a bell struck with a mallet, and every head in the place turned at once. Long Tian’s face snapped to the side. A bright red handprint bloomed across his cheek, perfectly clear, every finger visible. His golden hair swung. The patched pauldron rattled.

The plaza had gone dead silent.

Long Tian stayed frozen for one long, shocked second with his head turned to the side.

"That," said Daniel pleasantly, "was for the coffin."

"WEIGHT," said the gate, in a voice that seemed almost delighted. "NINE THOUSAND KILOGRAMS. PRIDE WOUNDED. PRIDE INCREASED."

The invisible weight slammed down on Long Tian like a collapsing wall. He went flat on his stomach with a groan that rattled the pool. The stone cracked in a spiderweb around him. His disciples gasped, one of them dropping his sword with a clatter.

"I think he likes it," Daniel said.

Behind him, Paul made a high, strangled noise.

"Daniel!" Lyra hissed. "Stop talking!"

"I can’t. I’m enjoying myself."

"WEIGHT," said the gate, turning its attention to the crowd. "NEXT."

Heng Bao stepped forward with a roar.

He was a huge man, and he planted his feet and thumped his chest like a gorilla in a market. "I am Heng Bao of the Iron Mountain Sect! I am the strongest in my generation! I will not be shamed by a... a *napper*!"

"WEIGHT," said the gate. "FIVE THOUSAND KILOGRAMS."

Heng Bao hit the ground like a dropped boulder.

"Oh, that was quick," Paul said.

"He did say ’strongest,’" said Lyra.

"He said it very loudly," said Brick Head, nodding.

Daniel looked at the plaque. Then at the gate. Then, with the air of a man about to make a very bad decision, he walked up to the arch.

---

"WEIGHT," said the gate.

There was a brief, thoughtful pause.

"...THREE GRAMS."

The plaza erupted.

"Three *grams*?" someone shouted. "That’s nothing!"

"That’s a feather!"

"He wants a harem and he’s lighter than a *feather*?"

Daniel turned around and took a small, graceful bow.

"I’m very humble," he said.

"You are *lazy*," said Lyra. "Not humble."

"THE GATE DOES NOT CARE WHY," said the arch, with what sounded suspiciously like weary affection.

Lyra stepped up next, crossing her arms, her chin high.

"WEIGHT. THREE HUNDRED GRAMS."

"Less than a pigeon," Paul observed, with real respect.

"Shut up."

Paul went next. "I would just like it noted for the record," he said, adjusting his collar, "that I am modest about my face."

"WEIGHT. FORTY KILOGRAMS."

Paul went pale. "Forty?"

"PRIDE IN APPEARANCE. PRIDE IN WIND. PRIDE IN FALSE MODESTY."

"I resent that."

"THE GATE DOES NOT CARE."

Brick Head walked up with a big, happy smile and stood in front of the arch looking like a boy meeting a very large dog.

"WEIGHT," said the gate. It paused. Daniel could have sworn the silver ring tilted slightly to look at the man. "...NONE."

"None?" said Brick Head.

"THIS ONE IS A CLOUD."

Brick Head beamed. "I’m a cloud!"

"You absolutely are," said Daniel.

One by one, they passed through. Paul staggered under his forty kilos for a few steps and then shook it off. Lyra stepped through lightly. Brick Head floated across like a man walking on a trampoline.

That left Su Wan.

She stood in front of the arch very straight, her braid hanging loose, her hands clenched at her sides. Across the plaza, Long Tian had managed to turn his head. His cheek was swollen. His eyes were burning.

"Su Wan," he said, in a hoarse, quiet voice. "Remember what you owe."

Su Wan did not look at him.

"WEIGHT," said the gate.

The pause was longer than any of the others.

"...THREE TONS."

The shadow that fell across her shoulders was enormous. It pressed her down, an inch at a time, until her knees shook and her armor creaked. Her face went white with effort. But she did not fall.

"What’s she carrying?" Paul whispered.

"Everything," said Daniel.

He walked up beside her, not too close, and stood with his hands in his pockets, looking at the arch rather than at her.

"Hey," he said quietly. "It’s a gate. It weighs what you carry. Nothing says you have to carry it."

"I was *trained* to carry it," Su Wan said through her teeth.

"I know."

"If I put it down, I am nothing."

"If you keep it, you’re going to be flat." He kept his voice light. "Try telling it something true."

Su Wan breathed in. She breathed out. Her fingers trembled.

"I am proud," she said slowly, "that I survived. I am proud that I was strong enough. I am proud that I did not break."

The weight on her shoulders flickered.

"And I am tired," she whispered. "I am so tired."

The silver ring chimed, soft and low, like a bell at the end of a long day.

"WEIGHT," said the gate. "NINE KILOGRAMS."

The shadow fell away.

Su Wan swayed. Her eyes were very bright. She turned to look at Daniel, and for one moment, there was something in her face that was not guarded at all.

She did not say thank you. She just nodded, once, and stepped through the arch.

[Affection Level: Su Wan: -9%]

Daniel read it. Then he closed it quietly and followed her.

---

Behind them, in the silence of the plaza, Long Tian lay face-down on the cracked white stone, with a handprint blazing on his cheek, nine thousand kilograms of his own pride on his back, and sixty witnesses watching.

Someone in the crowd began, very quietly, to clap.

Heng Bao, from the ground, said "Shut up" in a muffled voice.

The clapping did not stop.

---

The seventh gate was the first one Daniel could see from the sixth.

It stood a few hundred meters beyond the plaza, another tall arch of grey stone, plain and weathered, with a narrow stone stair running up one side. Behind it, the gorge began to widen, and the first real sunlight of the day spilled down through a gap in the cliffs, pale gold on grey rock.

On the very top of the arch, sitting with her legs swinging over the side, was a small figure in grey.

Daniel stopped.

His Keen Sense, which he had been leaving open out of habit, showed him the arch, the stair, the road. It showed him a bird on a rock, and a rabbit under a bush.

It did not show him her.

Yun Xi sat on top of the seventh gate and looked down at him, with a paper bag in her lap and a dumpling halfway to her mouth.

"You’re slow," she said.

"I stopped to slap a man."

"I saw."

"You *watched*?"

"It was loud." She took a bite. "He deserved it."

Daniel stared up at her. Lyra, beside him, had gone very still. Paul had paled. Su Wan’s hand had dropped to her hilt out of pure instinct, and Brick Head was staring at the dumpling with open yearning.

"You were waiting for us," Daniel said slowly.

"I was waiting for *you*." Yun Xi swallowed, wiped her fingers on her robe, and hopped lightly down from the arch. She landed on the road without a sound, without a puff of dust, and stood there barefoot with her hands in her sleeves. "You broke the fifth gate."

"I dropped a ceiling on a guy."

"That’s what I said." She looked at him with those plain brown eyes, and for a heartbeat, he felt the edge of the well again, something old and vast turning over far below. "Three gates left. Seven, eight, nine."

"I can count."

"Race me."

Daniel blinked. "What?"

"From here to the ninth gate." She said it casually, as if suggesting a stroll. "If you reach it first, I will answer one question. Any question."

"And if you win?"

She considered this seriously.

"You buy me dumplings," she said. "Forever."

A long, shocked silence followed.

"That is the most flirtatious thing I’ve ever heard," Paul whispered.

"It is *not*," said Yun Xi.

"It is a little bit," said Lyra.

Daniel looked at the girl in grey, at the faint, unreadable curve of her mouth, at the single bronze plaque swinging at her belt. And he felt a slow, delighted grin spread across his face, the kind of grin that had gotten him into trouble in two worlds.

"Deal," he said.

"Good." She turned and began to walk. "Try to keep up."

"I never keep up," Daniel said, cracking his knuckles. "I overtake."

She did not look back. But for the first time, he could have sworn she was smiling.

Behind him, his friends were shouting. In front of him, the road stretched away into pale gold light. And somewhere in the back of his head, a small, quiet voice that had been trained by a lifetime of laziness and a very good set of skills said:

You’re going to win this.

Daniel Black did not intend to lose.