Apparently it’s expensive to rent one of the sect’s spiritual horses, like really expensive.

  So I walked.

  Being the start of summer however spiritual beasts are out in droves, their monstrous counterparts exterminated throughout winter. Temporarily of course.

  As the season progresses, spiritual beasts are going to start advancing stages, predators through hunting, and prey for self-preservation. Unlike humans, they draw raw natural qi at every step of their cultivation through instinct, making it inevitable that some can’t handle the unpurified qi. Those that fail in their gamble can’t withstand the turbulence having their mind fractured as their bodies mutate into monstrous forms with ravenous appetites.

  By autumn, little to no spiritual beasts will remain, weaker ones hibernating and hoping not to be found whilst those strong enough migrate to safer, qi rich environments.

  Thankfully I don’t have to deal with them yet! Spiritual beasts are smarter and more cautious to go against a lone, well-armed human. It does help that the sect regularly culls beasts in their territory.

  Hasn’t stopped a few from taking their chances.

  I use my spear to smack the leaping Blood Chimp in the face, the little crimson monkey’s head cracking at the force and slamming into a tree trunk with bone crushing force.

  Its family hesitate, chittering and hooting at me until I take a step forward that makes them break and scramble away into the trees, soon leaving me in silence.

  Sighing, I keep my spear out and keep walking down the dirt path supposedly leading to a village, not bothering to harvest the corpse of the weak beast.

  None of the beasts decide to take their chances against me so it takes only an hour for the trees to thin and reveal a quaint lumber village, looking to be home to a hundred or two people.

  I left the sect five days ago, heading to the last location the bandits were reported to be and only finding a broken carriage left behind by the group’s last victims. My basic tracking skills couldn’t hope to try finding a trail that’s days old, so I went with Wang Xie’s best tip and headed to a nearby village’s tavern.

  Long story short, I overheard a drunk merchant, followed the lead and found a merchant caravan on the way to a town after being robbed by the same group I’m hunting. I was able to find some tracks that led to an abandoned camp, and then towards this forest where the only thing of worth is this village. They harvest a special type of wood, white as milk, that only grows within this forest and fitting the taste of nearby clans which is why a village was able to pop up so deep in the wilderness.

  So here I am.

  A few farmers working the small fields around the village notice me and I see two quickly speak before the younger one, presumably the man’s son, goes running to the village while the older one jogs to meet me.

  “Greetings esteemed cultivator,” the middle-aged man says with a bow he holds, “welcome to Whitewood Village.”

  I withhold a cringe at the bow, “No need to bow, and I’m only here for some information. Perhaps a meeting with your village elder?”

  He eagerly leads me through the village and to a slightly larger house near the center where an elderly man stands with the boy from earlier and some other villagers.

  After some uncomfortable greetings where the men and women simper, I’m able to sit within the elder’s house drinking some tea and I can finally ask what I need.

  “Bandits? We haven’t had any come by for years now,” that’s expected, bandits can only last long if they have decently high cultivation, something the deserters have enough of this early in the season when the beasts are weaker, “and we haven’t had visitors since our last shipment and that was two weeks ago.”

  Disappointed, I take a sip of the surprisingly good tea while I try to think of any other way to find a hint of the group bar aimlessly wandering the forest.

  “Do any in your village wander the forest? Beyond where the woodsmen commonly work?”

  The elder strokes his beard for a moment, “We do have two hunters, they’re at the fourth and fifth stage so they venture further out to hunt and scout locations to harvest the trees. Boy,” he addresses to the young boy who followed us inside and quietly stood to the side, “go and find them, say that an esteemed cultivator from the Azure Tempest Sect wishes to speak to them.”

  It's not long before two rougher looking men stumble inside and I get a proper lead.

  One of them whilst hunting a deer to the west of the village found hints of human tracks. It was after rainfall though so he couldn’t tell where they led nor how long they were there for but given it’s my only lead, it’s better than nothing.

  The elder offers his own house for my use, and meals whenever I want during my stay which I was able to bring him down to just a small room just for the night and food. They have quite the experience dealing with a typical prideful cultivator, likely have to with the number that get sent to cull the forest, but I’m still uncomfortable from taking advantage of them like that.

  There’s plenty of daylight, not enough to go looking for the bandits but enough to get one of the hunters to take me to where he found the tracks.

  “It’s about o’er here young master,” he says, waving around a small creak, “were plenty of signs but they’ve been washed away now.”

  “Could you tell vaguely which direction they led to?” I ask as I circle the area, finding nothing of note like he said.

  “Anywhere from up the creak and to the north. There’s a small river this here creak comes from so there’s plenty of places to get water.”

  At least I have a proper area I can comb through.

  I make a note on the map I bought at the sect from the last survey of the area, it’s quite vague but has some landmarks that makes it relatively accurate.

  Spending the night at the elder’s home gives me some nostalgia, the food tastes bland and doesn’t feel as filling even though I eat the same portion as I typically do. It’s the same meals I used to eat just a few months ago, but the sect’s higher quality food apparently turned me into a snob. Ew.

  It’s enough for me however, so it’s just after dawn that I find myself back at the spot the hunter brought me to that I start my search.

  I follow the creak up to the river the hunter said it diverged from, walking at a normal pace so I don’t miss any tracks and it takes an hour to reach the raging river. Too far from the relative safety the village brings from wild beasts, the bandits wouldn’t risk staying this far out. Checking my map, I find the largest stream that diverges and head north-east.

  ---

  “Why can’t I be lucky,” I groan as I slump onto a rock, it’s midday now and I’m hangry.

  Pulling out package wrapped in parchment, I yank out a piece of jerky and tear into it, watching as a squirrel picks up an acorn before scrambling back up-

  Thwip

  I don’t register the faint whistle as my body twists just before a stinging pain erupts at my side, the suddenness taking the air from me and I go toppling back over the rock.

  Groaning, I look down to see the shaft of an arrow sticking out from my side at an angle.

  Hearing another faint whistle, I scramble behind the rock I was sitting on and curse as another arrow lodges in the ground near me.

  Wincing as the arrow shifts in my side, I shift enough to see that it went straight through. I can’t fight properly like this.

  Let’s hope my twist let it miss my organs. Important ones at least.

  Snapping the shaft by the arrowhead, I grip the other end and yank the arrow out with a groan. Pressing my hand on the rapidly bleeding hole I fumble for the pouch on my waist and yank out a pill bottle I bought for this mission.

  Popping the cork, I dump the pills onto my now bloody gauntlet and shakily dump all but one back into the bottle before tossing back the crimson pill. It quickly dissolves as normal and I swallow the familiar slime.

  An expensive purchase, but one I definitely needed.

  That’s when I hear the footsteps, far too close to be safe so I curse and hope the Blood Stemming pill is working like Tie Feng claimed and shove the bottle back before leaping to my feet and dashing behind a tree.

  Thunk thunk

  One lodges into a trunk behind me just as I make it behind larger cover and the other lodges firmly within the trunk of the tree I took cover behind. Taking my chance, I glance around the trunk before quickly ducking back as another arrow just barely misses my head and lodges into the tree. Good aim, but not perfect.

  Two archers, dirty and unkempt, spread out two to three dozen meters ahead of me and they have me in their crossfire. What’s concerning is that I don’t see anyone else near them, and no one would risk attacking me on their lonesome given my sect robes.

  If I were them, I’d have some people go to flank the clearly unaware cultivator bumbling through the woods.

  Good thing I can outflank the flank.

  Reaching back, I pull my spear from its strap and squeeze the shaft tight. Taking a few deep breaths to center myself, I run.

  The archers react far too slow, arrows lagging behind my figure but once they account for my speed, I’m weaving through the trees, blocking their sight as I sprint to their right. A man emerges from a bush ahead of me, a similar getup as the archers but with a wood-axe in hand that he sends towards me.

  “ARRGH-ghk!” The battle cry dies mid-roar as my spear bursts through his chest, far outranging his axe.

  That’s when the other man with him shows himself, and my heart lurches when he loosens an arrow from his bow.

  In my panic I turn my spear towards the archer, the still living man on the end dragged along for the ride who takes the shot in my stead before slipping from my spear and goes flying off to the side.

  He’s a corpse by the time he hits the ground.

  Pausing, I slam a foot down to burn my speed, dragging a furrow in the dirt before I come to a stop and explode towards the man fumbling for an arrow from his quiver, something I don’t let him finish as my spear pierces through his chest. I miss his heart in my panic and hear as he starts gurgling from the blood filling his lungs.

  I wince as the man tries pulling at my spear, drowning in his own blood, and I feel a bit of pity, something I push down deep in me. Pulling my weapon free, I thrust through his neck and put him out of his misery.

  With a shaky breath I’m off again. Can’t stop until they’re all dead.

  Running in an arc towards the archers, I keep an eye out for anyone else hoping to ambush me but there’s none before I catch sight of the archers once more, the two closer together than before and facing me.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  I duck behind a tree as the two release an arrow, lodging in the trunk and I’m off towards them, covering a few meters before ducking behind another but only one let’s loose an arrow this time.

  Peeking around, I have to duck back as an arrow flies where my head just was. Seems they figured out to alternate their shots.

  Keeping my ears open for movement, I lean back and think what to do. Can’t move less I give them a chance to get an arrow in me, can’t stay here before more of their friends come.

  Mulling my options, I look up at the thickly leaved treetop and wearily sigh.

  Turning around to face the trunk, I bend my knees and leap. Luckily a branch is about a meter and a half up so I’m able to grab onto the thick branch and precariously get myself balanced on top of it.

  Guess working on balance with Lan Yue was worth it.

  The tree doesn’t shake much when I got on, too close to the trunk, but I don’t doubt they’ll notice me moving in the treetops, so I decide to forgo stealth in exchange for speed.

  Quietly moving around the trunk, hidden below by a layer of leaves and branches, until I’m roughly facing the closest archer. I coil my legs and push.

  Branches rustle and leaves get torn away by the bunches as I barrel through the treetop and grunt as I slam into the trunk of another tree but don’t stop and turn to another before doing so again.

  I hear cries of alarm from the bandits, no doubt noticing the not-so-subtle ruffling of branches above them, but it just gives me a clearer idea of where they are.

  Turning, I leap into open air and brace my legs.

  The last an archer sees are the feet of a large teen before said feet stomp on his head.

  Crunch

  Swallowing my gag, I grimace in disgust, not having fully thought about how a head would handle getting squashed by someone of my size.

  Turning to the side, I brace to dash to the remaining archer, but see him shaking in place, mouth agape.

  …why are his pants getting darker?

  My nose wrinkles at the smell that hits me, sometimes my enhanced senses suck. That triggers the man to drop his bow and run away screaming in terror.

  …wait I need him to find the rest of his friends!

  Dashing, the man turns around and his screams take a higher pitch as he sees me overcome him in a few seconds and tackle him to the ground. With a bit of a struggle, one I end with my superior strength, I pin him to the ground with a foot on his chest, bloody spear pointed at his face.

  “This is the deal; you have zero relation to the completion of my mission. So, if you answer my questions, I’ll let you go. I’ll even forget about you trying to kill me. Understand?”

  The man frantically nods, his sobbing dying down as he realizes I’m not going to kill him.

  Wow he’s terrified, didn’t even think I’d go back on my word. I won’t though, the forest will probably kill him before he does any harm again.

  “In your bandit group, do you have a pair of Imperial deserters?” A question I get a shaky nod to. “Do you know what stage they are at?” A shake of the head. “And how many of your other friends are still alive?”

  “Th-three young master, just three. No Five! Th-there were another two that were flanking from where you came from,” he stammers out.

  I groan at the address, getting a terrified whimper from the man but ignore it, it’s temporary, he’s temporary.

  “They are dead, so three remain. Are they at the main camp with the deserters?”

  “Y-yes young master!”

  “And their stages?” I question.

  “Ah, umm two of them are at the fourth stage, and the other just got to the fifth.”

  “And where is the camp?”

  He points roughly south, “Down there, less than half an hour there’s a small pond where we made camp.”

  “Good, leave now,” I order briskly, something he follows as he scrambles to his feet and sprints away with all his might.

  Once I confirm he’s gone, I slump to the ground with a groan and take a minute to catch my breath. For some reason the few minutes of combat made me feel more drained than a whole workout session, I should have far more stamina than what I used so why? Is it because I fought people? But I did that before in plenty of spars.

  Maybe it’s because I killed them?

  It’s my first time killing someone, never got as desperate as some of the others did during winter. But Chen Yun did say that this will feel different than anything I fought before.

  I calm my breathing down as I think about my actions, but that also lets me remember that I have a hole in my side.

  Lightly patting the wound, I sigh in relief as the pill did its job and clotted the wound, but it won’t help much if the wound reopens after the effect wears off so off goes my robe and on a roll of clean bandages.

  Tightly wrapping it around my waist with some medicinal cream to numb the pain, I shrug my clothes back on and think about my next steps.

  With their friends not coming back, dead, it’ll take some time before they notice and be on alert.

  Damn, I should have asked the bandit how long they were expected to be gone, if it was more than a day, I could’ve spent the night at the village to recover and be fresh for a fight. But if I want to make sure the bandits will be where I know they are then I need to go before they decide to move.

  Path decided, I take five to catch my breath and finish a light lunch before trudging through the woods once more in the direction of their camp, a little more aware of my footsteps. I notice my gauntlets shine a bit too much in sunlight, so with regret I smear some mud to dull them.

  The bandit I questioned was off in his directions, the camp further to the side than he said and the only reason I notice is because of the faint laughter I hear, out of place in the forest.

  Staying low, I peer through some bushes towards the camp and thankfully see the remaining bandits. The two deserters sit around a campfire in the center facing each other and I can tell they’re my targets given the unmistakable Imperial armour they wear, even if it’s dirty and cracked. Swords set beside them with their spears nowhere in sight so hopefully they didn’t make off with those as well when they ran.

  Two other bandits are a few meters from the fire by some tents to the side doing something I can’t see. The last of them is between the two groups and closer to the forest, seemingly the lookout and not doing a good job of it given his glassy eyes as he stares off into the forest, barely turning his head to look around.

  Ducking down, I feel relatively fine to keep fighting, but I’ll need to be in my best possible state to go against the ex-soldiers. Something impossible given I’ve just gotten out of another fight and am injured, the latter of which won’t heal for a few days, but the former I can fix.

  I pop out out a Cool Spring pill and swallow it, immediately feeling refreshed.

  Not perfect but being a stage higher than the last time I used it lets me gain more from it than before so it should be enough. Now to play this smart.

  Watching my footing, I stay low and out the lookout’s vision as I creep close, going as slow as I can less the two deserters hear something off with their enhanced senses.

  I stop once I’m within a dozen meters of the lookout to his side, any closer the deserters could hear something, and I ready my spear.

  Once I get a feeling for his pattern, I stand to my full height when the lookout turns away, quickening my breath to get my heart beating faster.

  Leveling the spear by my head, I stomp a foot forward and my arm bulges as I put all my strength into the throw.

  The whistle of the spear is sharp as it flies by the lookout’s head who reacts when it’s long gone. Armour and bone shatters as my spear impales one of the deserters straight in his back, the force shoving him off and into the campfire, dead as the fire erupts from his landing and licks at his corpse.

  “HAO!” The other man screams as he stands to his feet.

  I don’t wait and by the time the lookout pulls his gaze away to see where the spear came from, he sees me barreling at him.

  Crunch

  No sound escapes his open mouth as my metal clad fist buries itself in his throat, crushing it, and I’m moving away from the soon to be dead man and towards the other two bandits that react fast enough to have gotten weapons in hand.

  The bigger of the two, likely the one at the fifth stage, gets over his shock quick enough and sends his pickaxe flying towards me with a determined yell as I close in. Stamping a foot down, I grind to a stop just short of his swing and let it slam into the ground in an explosion of dirt.

  Strength is a good leveler in the playing field, but without technique it means nothing.

  I slam a foot down on its shaft and shatter the wood.

  The man grunts in surprise as the strength he was going to pull with fires back against him and his arms go swinging up, overcompensating from the lack of weight as he goes stumbling back. I take the chance to leap at the other bandit, backhanding the knife he flails in my direction with my metal gauntlet, and a single punch shatters the man’s teeth, sending him flying back and collapsing on to a tent.

  “RAAGH!”

  I grunt as the bear of a man tackles me, sending me sliding back a meter from the force and weight, but I plant my feet down and tense my thighs, feet grinding into the dirt and stopping him in his tracks. I circle my arm around his neck from above and start squeezing.

  The bandit chokes as my arm tightens around his neck and starts battering strikes into my side in a panic. I grunt as he luckily slams one right where my wound is, definitely reopening it.

  I push through the pain to bring my other hand down to grip the hand of the arm around his neck and wrench.

  Crack

  Dropping the limp corpse, I take a deep breath and tur-

  I grunt in pain as the sword just barely misses my eye and leaves a line of pain across the side of my head. Taking a step back to account for my head leaning back from the strike, I use the little momentum to blindly send slightly faster jab that my opponent steps back from.

  Straightening out, I set my eyes on the last deserter who glares at me with furious red eyes, tracks of tears down his face. Over his shoulder, I see the corpse of his fellow, pulled away from the fire with my spear taken and discarded to the side.

  “YOU! You dare kill my younger brother!” He roars, pointing his sword straight at me with a hand. “I’ll gut you like a fish you heaven’s damned sect lackey-!”

  I dash forward and smack his sword aside with a backhand with ease, my interruption giving me the opening to send a low punch to his gut that bashes against his armour, leaving a slight dent.

  I-

  Sparks erupt in my vision as he headbutts me, leaving me stumbling back as rapidly blink to clear my vision, and it’s only through instinct that I push off the ground in time to make some space before a sword slashes through where I was standing.

  Blood flows freely down my nose and the side of my head, at least nowhere that it’ll interfere in the fight, and I frantically backstep forward as the man flies towards me and a literal storm of blades erupts towards me.

  I block as many as I can with my gauntlets, sparks flying as each scrape against metal and leaving scratches and chips in the metal, but he’s far too fast for me to react so cuts get through my guard and appear across my frame even with each roll making the cuts shallow. In my panic, I feel my hands unconsciously form a palm, and the next slash is met with a twisting palm that guides it away from my body and to the side.

  Wave-Breaking Palm

  I hiss as I feel the force imparted to my palm, far too inexperienced to make it feel nothing, but it’s enough as I desperately redirect the renewed flurry he sends my way.

  My technique changes the pace, my feet planting as I stop retreating and take the slashes head-on, a lot still getting through but more and more get deflected away, each giving me a moment longer to breath. Giving me a chance to create an opening.

  I backhand a slash of his sword once more, twisting my hip to send it flying off to the side and giving me a gap to grab the fabric of a tent we pushed back towards and with sheer strength, pull the whole tent out the ground and throw it at the man. He screams in rage as his sword slashes through the fabric and rope, but his movement just makes it all the worse as the pieces fall atop him and tangle from his flailing.

  Taking the opening, I take a step forwards and send a jab that cracks across his covered face. My next is a jab to his shoulder. Next his gut, harder and enough to hear him grunt in pain even through the armour.

  Chest. Stomach. Shoulder. Arm. A flurry of strikes lands on his struggling form, each harder than the last as I use the rebound to empower the next.

  Crunch

  His head snaps back from my sucker punch.

  Twisting my body, I go low and coil my legs with all the momentum I’ve gathered and-

  The man roars and his sword rips free from the rope tangling it, sending a wide slash with all his strength that sends air moving aside from the power.

  -push away!

  I yelp as I jump far. Not even able to brace as my body stiffens midair from the overpowering strength I put it through and I slam into the ground and go rolling.

  My hand moves as soon as I regain movement and slam it down, using the force to throw myself up and I thrust my feet down to drain my remaining momentum.

  My eyes land on the man nearly two dozen meters away from me, nose bleeding and free of his entrapment. He’s in a stance despite the distance between us, sword pointing to the sky diagonally with both hands by his head, legs braced as if he’s about to run with his unwavering eyes locked onto me.

  My eyes widen as I realize what he’s about to do too late, arms raising as two words reach my ears.

  “Moonlight Crescent.”

  A blur in my vision, in my face before my arms are even halfway up to guard. Pain blossoms vertically from my belly to my chest and I feel the strength leave my legs as I drop to the ground.

  I stare at the sky, feeling heat running down my torso.

  I’ve never felt this weak before. This tired.

  My hands feebly press down on my chest, the flashing pain blurring my vision, but I continue with a cry to helplessly keep the blood in.

  I eventually notice the deserter standing above me, armour cracked and dented from where my strikes landed, bloody and bruised face gazing down at me with cold embers of rage in his eyes.

  “This is what you deserve. For Hao,” he steps a foot over my body and raises his blade in a reverse grip.

  He thrusts it down, the weak force put into it something I can still react to as I move my gloved hands to catch the blade.

  He just grunts and presses his weight further down and I shakily whimper as I feel it slowly inch downwards through my robe, biting into my chest.

  My heart beats wildly, blood rushing through me and feel the familiar rage burn my mind as I stare at death’s face and roar.

  I twist my body with newfound energy, screaming as the blade point impaled in my chest drags through skin and muscle and slam it into the ground beside my head.

  The deserter curses as he stumbles; I crunch my core, shove the pain aside, coil my legs and kick him hard.

  The man screams in a pitch never made by man as my feet break the plate covering his crotch, digging in before he gets launched back in the air.

  Stumbling to a crouch with rapid breaths just as he lands a few meters from me, I scream in anger and with a flex of my legs, leap into the air, far lower than I can but enough.

  At the peak of my leap, just as gravity takes ahold of me, I see the writhing man look up just in time to see me above him.

  Adamantine Crash

  All my weight, my strength, my fall, condensed into my fist, landing square on the sole forearm he puts up to guard his head.

  Crack

  Armour fragments and bone shatters as his forearm shatters and a few of my fingers with it. We both scream in pain, I moreso as my body slams atop his.

  I can feel his other hand try and pull out from where its trapped under my body, but I can’t let him. As I regain control over my stiff muscles, I use my non-broken hand to grab the collar of his armour and push myself up, ignoring the pain of my wound dragging across his armour.

  Sitting atop his chest, I use my legs to pin his arm to his side, and I meet his pain filled eyes, a sliver of fear entering them.

  I slam a fist to his chin, feeling something crack under my fist. I don’t know if it’s my fist or his mouth.

  I don’t care.

  I slam another.

  Thump

  And another

  Crack Crunch

  And another. And another. And another

  Crack

  I breathe heavily, blood dripping from my torso onto the broken man. He can no longer see me, eye socket crushed, the other swollen shut. Wet wheezes whistle from the shattered ruin of his jaw.

  “…puhh-eezz…”

  …

  Crunch