The Third Realm - Chapter 16 preview

It took the demonic wolves an hour to find them. Two hours, after howling their presence and stalking the pair, to decide to attack. They had tracked them for an hour, shadows in the dim moonlit night, flitting from outcropping to outcropping. It took the boy till their first cry before he realized they were being stalked, another fifteen minutes to locate them. The spike of fear, the stench of his anxiety mixed with the smell of the impurities he still wore. An enticing lure, for the demonic beasts.

Especially as Wu Ying had suppressed his own aura once more, becoming no more than a shadow.

The pack caught them as they came down from the latest slope and faced another long climb ahead, the demonic wolves prowling out of the darkness. Three stood at the front, two at their sides and Wu Ying sensed two more in the shadows directly behind them.

Shi Min fumbled his sword out of his sheath, his breathing heavy and laboured. He turned around to face the darkened shadows, enough of a huntsman to know that the wolves would encircle their group. Gambit failed, the two from behind slunk out of the shadows, as the animals yipped and growled, threatening the pair.

“Straighten your spine. Breathe through your diaphragm,” Wu Ying murmured. “Loosen your grip on the top two fingers a little more and shift down one cun.”

“What?” Shi Min said.

“Your front foot is too close. Move it to the outside by three cun and angle it outwards a little more. Do not look down!” Wu Ying snapped the last sentence. “Always watch your opponents.”

“Yes, Master!”

“I’m not your Master,” Wu Ying reiterated.

The momentary hesitation on Shi Min’s part was noticed by the wolves, who chose that moment to pounce on him. They surged to the boy who chose – correctly – to meet the first one, putting himself further away from the second monster. However, his cut strayed at the last second, the blade turning a little as it impacted the monster’s body. Rather than cutting deep, the blade tore a little into the skin and then skipped, even the ultra-sharp Saint-jian useless when not utilized properly.

“Slow down. Every attack should be perfect, or as close as you can get it.” Wu Ying frowned, then extracted a jian of his own from his storage ring.

He shifted quickly, using the Northern Shen circular kicking style and movement techniques to pass before the boy and boot the animals aside. He reached outwards, gripping the surprised childn’s blade and disarming him.

“What…?” The boy’s eyes widened, confusion turning quickly into anger, especially when Wu Ying made the jian disappear into his storage ring. “That’s mine…!”

“It’s a crutch.” Wu Ying thrust the sheathed jian into the boy’s hand. “Use this.”

The boy took the weapon automatically, frowning as he drew the weapon. Idly, Wu Ying stepped around the child and booted another monster away, the creatures beginning to grow even more wary as they realized perhaps their prey was not as defenceless as they had thought.

“This is… a poor weapon,” Shi Min stared at the unsheathed blade. It was just a simple mortal blade, one that Wu Ying had purchased a while ago.

“You’re a poor swordsman. Now, try again.” Wu Ying gestured at the monsters before them.

“You cannot mean for me to practice against them. They’ll kill me!”

“Then, I suggest you improve fast.”

No more time to talk, especially as a trio chose to attack. One – the Alpha – moved to keep Wu Ying busy while the other two launched themselves at Shi Min, one of the monster’s bleeding from the shallow cut the Saint-jian had inflicted

This time, Shi Min chose to thrust, moving sideways and attempting to slip the attack through the creature’s defences as it lunged at him. It pierced the monster’s skin, the tip sliding in and then ripped out, almost forcing the boy to lose his grip.

Wu Ying, having idly dodged the Alpha’s attack and grabbed it by the scruff of the neck to toss away tutted. “Focus on the spot where you intend to hit. The smaller your focus point, the more accuracy you will achieve. Aim to kill with one blow, rather than injure.”

The growl that erupted from Shi Min’s lips was similar to the wolves, making Wu Ying smile a little. Now, he began to understand why Elder Hsu enjoyed teaching in this way. It was highly amusing.

And at least he was not asking him to wrestle the beasts, half-naked and oily.

***

Nearly forty minutes later, the last of the demonic wolves lay on the ground, blood pouring from its slashed throat. Wu Ying eyed Shi Min who was wavering on his feet, though both his stance and his sword hand were steady. He considered that final slashing attack, before he spoke.

“Adequate. You must, however, focus on more thrusts. You are wielding a jian not a dao. While cutting is viable, it is not the most effective means of wielding your weapon,” Wu Ying said.

“I… you… you monster!” Shi Min spluttered. Even as he spoke, he looked around to ensure each of the animals were truly dead, the bodies of the demons littering the ground about them. About a few minutes into the fight, the demonic beasts had attempted to flee but Wu Ying had easily caught them and thrown them back into the ring, leaving them with little choice but attempt to take down Shi Min.

“Breathe properly. And care for that blade well. You’ll be using it for the next little while,” Wu Ying said.

“You’re not giving me back my weapon?” Shi Min said, angrily.

“Not till you have achieved some skill. This fight should not have taken so long,” Wu Ying gestured around him. “This was a pitiful showing.”

“With my weapon, I could have-”

“Maybe. It’s why you will not receive it back. Now, care for the one you have and then extract the cores.” Wu Ying walked over to nearby rock, taking a seat and watching the boy struggle with his emotions. In the end, the child tore his robes further and cleaned the weapon properly, returning it to the discarded sheath. He took a brief moment to return the Saint-jian’s sheath to Wu Ying before proceeding to extract the stones.

“Also, skin and bleed them. We’ll want their meat for the winter,” Wu Ying murmured when the boy was done, the demon beast stones piled in the center of the road. Eyeing the pile, Wu Ying extracted a pouch and tossed it into the center of the stones, watching as Shi Min muttered and cursed, doing as he asked.

The monsters were hung up, their innards extracted and stored away by Wu Ying for later consumption, blood left to be collected in a series of bowls. Once the preparations were done1, Shi Min stuffed the demon stones into the pouch and walked over to Wu Ying challengingly. He thrust the pouch at Wu Ying, mulish stubbornness warring with gratitude

“Here.”

“Why are you giving me that?” Wu Ying raised a single eyebrow. “They are your kills.”

“I…” Shi Min hesitated, then retracted his hand. “Master…”

“I’m not your Master,” Wu Ying said, flicking his hand. “I am correcting basic form, but will not teach you anything of note. Understood?”

Shi Min hesitated but nodded, reluctantly. Wu Ying could see his emotions, his thoughts play across his face. As much as he might dislike Wu Ying’s methods, it was obvious that even the pointers given were aiding his martial prowess. A powerful cultivator like Wu Ying could offer great help to a simple child like him. At the same time, if he was not an official student, what could he learn?

As much as he could grasp. “Sit and meditate on the fight. Once the beasts have finished draining, we will leave.”

The boy nodded, following Wu Ying’s orders. Once he was seated, Wu Ying stood up and walked off, murmuring a request to the winds as he went.

There was much to do, if the future played out like he expected.

***

The group exiting the outpost had taken much longer to put together than Wu Ying had expected. It worked well for him, for he met them at where the road rose up into the distance where the crags and canyons began, where the dessert met the scrubland.

The party that he met was nearly twenty members strong, the strongest on a half-dozen steeds, only two of which were worth their names. The others looked to be short-legged, barrel chested horses meant for pulling wagons and hoes rather than being ridden. None were badly taken care of, though only the lead mare and its rider spoke of any great respect taken in their care.

Wu Ying breathed deep, sifting their scents, confirming what his spiritual senses had told him. So few people bothered to hide their scents, even if they attempted to hide their cultivation bases from other, more obvious sensing methods like his spiritual sense.

A prime example – the man who rode to the left of the leader on a bedraggled mare, whose side sported blood from a switch taken to its back. He wore a bracer that kept his energy constrained while charging the bracer, pulling the excess energy into itself to be unleashed. In Wu Ying’s spiritual sense, he burnt with the soft light of a Body Cleansing cultivator, but his scent was that of a mid-stage Energy Storage cultivator. More dangerous, the bracer that could unleash an attack at the stage of a Core Formation cultivator.

Once.

As for their leader… Wu Ying lips pressed tight. A Core Formation cultivator was a concern, even if none of the others were. Yet, his scent was wrong, his soul uneven in Wu Ying’s senses. His scent with that touch of rot that the wind cultivator assumed came from the twisted and broken Core. One whose journey to immortality had been cut short and now lorded over others in this far flung outpost.

Where did those who fail go? Some, to hide in Sect halls. Others, to travel in search of a miraculous cure. And some, like the one before Wu Ying, to the corners of the earth to hide their shame.

The wind picked up, and for a moment, Wu Ying felt the winds of Heaven whisper to him. Speaking of wrongs to be righted, a world gone askew. Heaven’s rules thwarted by those who had defied them, once before. And now, again.

“So you are the fool daring to standing in my way,” the leader made sure to stop his horse over twenty feet away. Enough distance that Wu Ying would have to exert himself to strike, if he so chose. Even from here, Wu Ying could see the man’s eyes narrow in thought, feel the way his spiritual senses pressed down upon his aura in an attempt to ascertain his cultivation level.

A cautious man then. Good thing Wu Ying had retracted his aura entirely, making himself feel like a pure mortal. While he was certain the others had already spoken of his supposed strength before, now removing his aura entirely was certain to make his opponent wary.

When Wu Ying chose not to respond to the man’s challenge, he snorted. “You obviously don’t know who I am. I am Ching Lau, the Fist of the North!”

The man clenched his fist tight and then punch outwards and to the side, a surge of power and killing intent flowing from him outwards to tear up the ground a half-dozen feet from Wu Ying.

Still, Wu Ying chose not to say anything, the wind that had been born from the attack swirling around him before depositing the dirt by his side, neither the pelting stones or the dust coming to touch his still form. He continued to stare at the other man, waiting.

A small motion, by the increasingly frustrated cracked Core Formation cultivator to one of his minions. That man spoke up, his voice warbling between terror and outrage. “You fool! You dare to disrespect the Master. Tell us, which foolish wandering hero chooses to dig his grave here, today?”

“My name doesn’t matter. What matters is that you will not be taking the boy today,” Wu Ying finally chose to speak, altering his voice such that the pitch was a little lower, the words carried by the wind to make it seem like it came from around them.

“You think too highly of yourself,” that same minion snapped. Then, another small gesture, and a pair of crossbows were raised and loosed. The arrows winged their way towards Wu Ying’s heart, only to crumple in mid-air and fall down. The wind shield Wu Ying conjured would have failed against a true attack by a cultivator, one with killing intent and chi within; but for a pair of measly crossbow arrows without either?

Child’s play.

“You think tricks will be enough to stop us all?” the minion spoke again, but now a greater degree of fear in his voice. Ching Lau seemed happy to see how this played out, allowing the other to lose face as his first attempt at intimidation had failed.

A cautious man, wary and testing Wu Ying’s patience and abilities. He would not act, it seemed, not till he was certain he could win. On the other hand, the way he glanced at the others in his retinue, the fact that he was unwilling to let the matter go spoke to either a stubborn greed or a need to keep face.

“It does not matter. The cost of forcing the issue will not be worth the reward of a single Saint jian.” Wu Ying replied, a plan coming together. “If we were to fight, one of us would walk away injured. And the other, not at all.” He saw Ching Lau tense, and continued unhurriedly. “Or you could wait for spring.”

“And what happens in spring?” Ching Lau spoke now, choosing to drop his spokesperson.

“A duel. Your best against the boy. Whoever wins keeps the jian,” Wu Ying said. “Much less wasteful.”

“To the death?”

Wu Ying inclined his head. “Or surrender.”

“Still, it feels like it is a loss for me. We could take what I desire now. Letting him train for a season is truly disadvantageous, do you not think so?” Ching Lau murmured.

“Three.” Wu Ying murmured. “He’ll fight your three best.”

“Three… why, training by an expert…”

“Three.” Wu Ying cut him off firmly. “No more. Or you try now.”

For a long moment, Ching Lau and Wu Ying stared at one another, one angry and considering, the other placid and calm. In the end, Ching Lau nodded.

“A season’s passing. On the first day of spring, we meet and the boy fights.”

Wu Ying nodded and the group turned, leaving him to stand on that barren road under the crescent moon. He watched till they had ridden off, ignoring the single watcher they left behind till their members had crossed over a few li.

Then, he moved, drifting like the wind over to the man’s hiding space and rendering him unconscious with a single strike. No need to let them know where he would bring the boy. As payment and warning for the inconvenience, he took the man’s weapons – a dao, a crossbow and its bolts – and his coin purse.

Then and only then did he return to Shi Min.

***

The boy had not moved since Wu Ying had left. On the other hand, he could see that the animals were drained of blood, only isolated drops dripping into the bowls. Insects buzzed around the bowls, some landing inside the sticky liquid, most on the rim or the animals themselves.

A click of his tongue alerted Shi Min, the boy jumping to his feet and scanning the surroundings, his hand on the hilt of the sword. When he confirmed the noise emanated from Wu Ying, he took the nod to the animals as indication of his job. In short order, the wolves were lowered, such that Wu Ying stored all but a pair.

“Expert?” Shi Min asked, doubtfully as he looked at the two large wolf bodies. Each probably weighed as much as he did.

“Pick them up and follow me.” After asserting his requirements, Wu Ying took off, choosing not to detail his thoughts any further. There was, at the moment, no point.

He listened to the grunts, the twitches and huffs as the pair of bodies were slipped over Shi Min’s shoulders, their legs tied close. Then, another harder grunt as the boy stood all the way upward and began the slow, laborious walk over to the path that ascended the mountain.

Wu Ying ascended easily, keeping his pace slow enough that the boy eventually managed to catch up. Then, he began to speak. His words were not particularly important, not yet; just rote repetitions and corrections.

“Breathe deeply through your stomach. Tuck your pelvis in. Use the front of your feet when you land, not the heel. You are running – or should be running – not walking. Spring forwards, using the momentum of your first step. Never stop moving. Breathe fully.”

Words, droning onwards. Mixing commentary on body mechanics, breathing and meditation, the Wind steps movement techniques and the first steps towards achieving moving cultivation options. There was too much to try to train the boy in, and he needed to improve everything from his fundamentals to seeing the boy’s talent.

After all, while the boy might have some skill with the sword that did not necessarily translate to talent in cultivation. He was young enough that if he was a potential prodigy, this was the time to lay the basic foundation.

Though, Wu Ying had to admit, he was not entirely certain how it was that he was the one to lay tat foundation. Life was strange that way.

A circle, one that he found himself repeating. Words drawn from Senior Yang as he journeyed to the sect, from his Master as he was trained in the mountains above. Even from his father, distilled into words of wisdom and training to suit the situation.

An hour, and Shi Min’s posture had improved, his breathing and basic body mechanics. He had begun to make use of the fundamentals of the movement technique Wu Ying had begun to teach him, with the boy even expanding upon the knowledge instinctively. Their pace had increased at first, as he learnt how best to move but in the last few minutes had begun to flag.

For there was one minor issue.

“You’re terrible at cultivating,” Wu Ying stated.

“You’re telling me to try to pull the energy while moving!” Shi Min protested. “That’s dangerous and painful and potentially destructive.”

“It’s called moving cultivation and can shorten the time you require to cultivate.” Cocking his head to the side, Wu Ying considered what he saw while the boy had partaken of the pill. How the powerful pill had moved through him, the gains Shi Min had experienced. “Have you mostly relied on pills to breakthrough?”

Silence, another dozen steps. Wu Ying was patient, as they walked along the top of the canyon walls, heading away from town and off the pathway now. He led them, and the wind led him.

Eventually, a slow, reluctant nod was pulled from Shi Min.

“So, truly lousy.” Wu Ying nodded. “Stop attempting the moving cultivation. Focus on the movement technique.”

“Yes.” A loud, tired grunt.

Silence, for another dozen steps, then a loud thud. Wu Ying turned his head sideways, raising an eyebrow as the boy had collapsed. He released the wolf corpses, pushing them aside and staggering to his wobbly feet. The boy was breathing hard, exhaustion clear through every trembling limb. Still, he reached down for the corpses.

Wu Ying chose not to say anything, curious to see how far he would push himself.

The answer, as it turned out, was nearly an hour and five other collapses, the last two within minutes of one another. That final time, Shi Min lay on the ground, so exhausted he was unable to even pry the corpses off his own back as he suffocated on the dirt and warmth.

Snorting, Wu Ying removed the bodies with a wave of his hand, depositing them in his Spirit Ring and taking a seat a distance away. He silently cultivated, waiting till the boy recovered and had sat up. Upon seeing that, Wu Ying reconjured the animals and walked off.

“Sadist,” Shi Min grunted behind, but he followed.

Of course he did.