Tension cloaks us as we face off, all five of us surrounding the gargantuan Cloudfisher Heron in a rough pentagram formation. The ropes that bind us together still remain, linking us all the way back to Shan Guojin, but there's enough slack that we should be fine - and perhaps we might even need them, in case it sends us flying and we need to pull someone back before they bother the other Herons and cause an all out brawl.

The Heron itself seems to know what we intend, and it watches us with a wall-eyed gaze, eyes unblinking and alien. It does not strike first, and underneath it, there is a clutch of huge eggs. Six of them in total, each roughly as large as we are.

I may need a bigger pot to make the soup with.

Each of us - Cultivator and Spirit Beast alike - is perfectly still. Waiting. Watching.

At some unspoken signal, Shan Guojin and Zhou Cheng both attack. The burly Mountain Cultivator rushes forward, slate grey Mountain Qi surging up around him and causing the ground to shake with his steps.

Zhou Cheng inhales deeply, chest practically inflating with it as his lungs expand, and then he exhales it all out, fingers curled just in front of his mouth to shape the gust. "Heaven Shaking Breath!"

A wing, resplendent in azure feathers, descends down like a wall, and the breath dissipates without any visible effect. The beak spears out so fast I cannot even see the movement, but Shan Guojin has already dodged.

A movement technique. The ground cracks where he stepped, and he's right before one of the long, slender legs. His open palm strikes against flesh.

The leg bends.

"Moonlight's Petals Fall From Heaven!" Kong Meiling calls, fans flapping as she directs currents of pale Qi into the sky, swirling around to begin descending onto the Heron in the form of pure white flakes. Where they touch, they bloom into flowers of ice, brimming with Yin - and drawing on the energy of the Heron.

Song Ren rushes forward next, spear lashing out in a furious flurry of ferocious bites from the Heron's other flank, aimed at the wing, the body, the leg. He draws blood, that I can see, but there's no serious wounds. All he is, is a rat nibbling at the legs of a tiger.

Rocks surge up to bind the Heron's feet. Shards of ice rain down. Song Ren dances between the Heron's furious pecks, parrying the beak with his speartip each time as Zhou Cheng's Breath drills into its side, trying to unbalance it.

All of it happens in the span of seconds. This is the arena I'm expected to step into… and steal the eggs?! Song Ren is barely managing to stave off its attacks, and he has a weapon. What am I meant to do?

… Well. I don't have weapons or armor, but I do have cooking utensils and I suppose it'll have to do. The closest thing I have to a shield is a wok made from Steel Armour Fish - it's a sizable thing, large enough to cover my back, because I have a big appetite. With the qiankun pouch, I just need to snag the eggs anyway, and hopefully whilst it's distracted, it'll look like a magic trick.

I sling it over my back, holding onto one handle to keep in place as I make a break for it. Around me, the fight continues, but I try to push it out of my mind. Focus. Focus! Eyes on the quite literal prize! In and out, as fast as I can, can't catch me, I'm the… humble cooking man? No that's terrible.

The Heron's feet are planted on either side of the nest, currently encased in growing little mountains of rock. This doesn't stop it from tearing one free, and for a brief moment I think it's going to stomp on me - it's enough that I try to curl up under the wok like a tortoise.

The foot doesn't come down on me, but the beak certainly does. I can feel it hammering against the wok, but the curved nature of it holds out well enough for me that the beak can't simply pierce straight through, scraping along to pierce against the ground as I huddle under it like a tortoise desperately praying for safety.

When the pecking stops, I scurry forward, trying to ignore the sounds of combat around me. I just need the eggs. All I need is the eggs.

Ironically, being amongst them is probably the safest place to be - the Heron makes no strikes near them, and once I'm in range, it doesn't even peck at me for fear of breaking their precious contents.

It can't peck me, not when the other four are attacking it and even if I'm not actively harming the eggs, my presence is enough to distract it. Hopefully, it'll be enough of a distraction.

"Seniors! Please hurry up and kill it before it realises I'm just a tortoise!"

"Do not ask us to hurry if you will not help!" Kong Meiling snaps back, directing a flurry of snow and ice into the Heron's face to try and blind it.

I duck a little under the shield as lightning sparks off of Song Ren's spear - it's not bright enough to flash, but it might've. "Sister Kong was the one who said I wasn't suitable for fighting!"

"Even a cornered rat can fight! Are you less than that?!"

Sister, that is a low blow indeed - but if you think this servant has pride, you're sorely mistaken! I would slap myself a thousand times if it meant I got to live!

"Just focus on staying alive, Lian-er!" Zhou Cheng calls, "The Beast is surely weakening!"

He says such a thing, but they have yet to deliver a wound I'd consider dangerous. Perhaps against a different opponent, I might've put more stock into his words, but the truth that cannot be denied is that it takes all four of them to just damage the Heron.

If they were taking turns, they might be able to wear it down - but then the Heron would likely defeat each of them in short order. It's only by working together like this can they begin to threaten it - but the Heron is much stronger than we are. The difference between a single Step of cultivation grows increasingly vast the further along you are. A Step between Qi Condensation Cultivators is no great difference - powerful, worthy of respect, but ultimately surmountable. Between Foundation Establishment Cultivators, it is still not a massive gulf, but it can be concerning.

However, that is a single Step. The monster before us is not a single Step ahead of them. It is several.

I would place Shan Guojin as somewhere around the Third Step of Foundation Establishment - he is an Inner Disciple after all. The Cloudfishers around us are on a similar level, I would say, and Zhou Cheng, Kong Meiling and Song Ren are all within the First and Second Steps.

The Heron is easily at the very peak of Foundation Establishment - the Ninth Step. If it comes down to a contest of stamina, the Beast is not the one who will lose.

The only things we can claim an advantage in are numbers and skill. In many ways, this is the way humans have triumphed over creatures many times stronger than them since antiquity. The only difference is that when hunting a mammoth, a stone spear was enough.

Quite frankly, I am not sure I could even draw its blood with anything I had on me. Song Ren's spear must be mighty indeed to even scratch its skin.

Shan Guojin hammers it in the head with another palm, driving it down as Song Ren tries to spear it from behind. From the look of frustration on his face, the spear does not get deep. Both of them pull back in time for another Breath from Zhou Cheng, accompanied by another hail of frozen shards, all of which scatter harmlessly against the feathers.

The Heron squawks, furious as its wings flap, sending heavy gusts in every direction. I'm safe in the eye of the storm (so to speak), but Shan Guojin has to plant his feet and pull on the ropes, keeping everyone else from getting blown away.

The opening is momentary but it's all the Heron needs.

The beak flashes, and Shan Guojin yells in pain as blood waters the ground. He's managed to catch the beak in his grip, which is probably what's stopped it from being a lethal blow, but the tip is still buried in his stomach too deeply to be anything less than a grievous wound. "Now!" he roars.

All three of the others strike together.

"Soul Severing Breath!"

"Thousand Ice Hells!"

"Heaven Judging Spear!"

All three of them are aiming for the neck. It makes perfect sense as a place to target - it's thin, vulnerable compared to the rest of the body, if they can sever the head, the fight is absolutely over, but even just grievously wounding it can be enough.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

It isn't.

The Heron spreads its wings, curling them around its neck in a movement I vaguely remember - the Herons I remember did that to convince the fish it was dark outside, and lure them out of hiding. The Cloudfisher does it to make use of its incredibly strong wings to protect its neck.

It occurs to me that if I do nothing, they will lose this fight - so I do the only thing I can. I pick up one of the eggs and shout. "HEY! YOU OVERGROWN CHICKEN!"

I don't know if it understands me, but I know a part of its attention has always been on the eggs this entire time, so I'm not surprised when it pulls more forcefully on its beak, trying to twist around to attack me, violence in its gaze. It's enough to make it lower its wings, just by a few inches.

The attacks land. A cutting blade of wind, a thousand tiny blades of ice and a sweeping spear strike alight with lightning Qi. Three separate attacks, three separate angles, all with every drop of power they can bring to the table.

The Heron squawks as it tears free, Shan Guojin's blood-slicked grip no longer sufficient to keep it still. Blood gushes from the wounds, but the head is very much still attached. But its enough for hope to spring renewed.

We can take it down!

… But first, I need to stash this egg. I shove it into one of the pouches as quickly as I can, seizing my wok-shield and cowering behind it.

The blows that hammer down are still deflected by its smooth, perfectly rounded shape but the power behind them is still enough to send me tumbling back. Now that I've demonstrated I'll go for the eggs, it seems to have re-weighed the risks of attacking me. Unfortunate!

"Focus on the wound!" Kong Meiling shouts, "It's weakening!" Is it? It doesn't feel like it, Sister!

I hear Shan Guojin's furious roar and I swear I can feel the impact of his palm strikes. I hear the crackle of Song Ren's lightning as he strikes again, and the roaring wind of another of Cheng's attacks.

I chance a peek over the rim of my wok-shield, and what I see is… at once heartening but terrifying. It is true perhaps, that the Heron is weakening - but if it is, it is slowly, and surely offset by the fact that it is no longer fighting atop its nest entirely. No, it has moved away enough that it has begun to really attack, no longer content defending and counter-attacking.

Its wings scythe through the air, turning away attacks even as it threatens to blow them away in turn. Those long legs dance as elegantly as they stomp and kick, cratering the ground with every blow and causing many of the other Herons to flare up defensively. The Beak remains the most terrifying aspect of all of course, spearing out so fast I can barely follow it - but each time, someone is able to parry it just enough that the target can dodge a fatal blow.

But we are not dodging the blows entirely anymore. Shan Guojin is bleeding profusely even after I watch him bite down on a Low Grade Regeneration Pill - the healing takes focus to truly recover, but it should be enough to buy him time. Likewise, Song Ren receives a number of nasty gashes and grazes where the Beak furrows through the surface of his flesh.

Zhou Cheng and Kong Meiling, who are attacking from range, are spared the brutality, but each flap of its wings sends dust and pebbles at both of them, and their Qi-heavy attacks are draining them faster than Song Ren or Shan Guojin.

By the time the Heron blows Kong Meiling away again, I'm the only one who can catch her rope and reel her in.

She looks flustered, in the sweaty, exhausted way of someone whose spent too long at the gym. "Pill," she gasps, "I need a pill…"

What she needs is Qi, that much is clear. Trying to refine Qi from a pill right now would be disastrous, and even if it weren't, I don't have anything that isn't meant to be medicine - medicine we'll need. Instead, I place my hands on her - one at her stomach, one at her head.

And then my Qi flows into her. My cultivation isn't dissimilar to hers, so my Qi settles easily enough, although she lets out a surprised gasp.

"Kill me later if it pleases you, Senior," I mutter, fully aware that what I'm doing is… invasive in many ways. It's not quite 'dual cultivating', but it's close. What I'm doing is less intimate than such a thing, but in some ways, kissing her would've been a lesser offense. "But first, survive long enough to do so, yes?"

She lets a quiet, breathless laugh tinged with the kind of panic granted by an adrenaline rush. "Do not make offers you do not want taken, Hei Lian," she retorts, "Or I may hold you to your words later." I can feel her drawing my Qi in, taking it greedily as best she can, and when she surges back to her feet, she does so with a renewed vigor. "Get back to cover," she warns over her shoulder as she takes off, fans snapping open.

I'm glad I was able to provide some more assistance, however limited but I do not think I'll be managing again. Even this has left me feeling fairly tapped. I can only hope it'll be enough.

She returns to the fight, but rather than attack at range as she did before, she rushes into the melee,using her fans to deliver vicious slashes but she's clearly not as experienced at the melee as the others.

The Heron ignores her in favour of the others, stomping on Shan Guojin's crossed arms repeatedly, forcing him into the ground even as it fences with Song Ren using its beak. Zhou Cheng's attempt to get its attention with his faltering Breath just doesn't work.

I glance at my knife - then back at the Heron. There's no way it'll do anything… so I resort to the one thing I know can work. I go to grab an egg.

But the Heron hasn't taken its eyes off of them at all. No sooner do my fingers brush against the shell do I feel the sudden and extraordinary pain of being impaled.

That's not a feeling I needed to feel, nor is it one I particularly wanted to.

I sink to my knees, practically collapsing against the egg as I bleed helplessly, clutching my stomach. That was… that's quite the hole. Ah, is that my intestines? I think I feel my intestines. I need… I need a pill. Just gotta… fuck that's a lot of blood…

I bite down, and I can taste the iron tang of my own life amongst the bitter herbs, and the onrush of Qi dulls the pain just a little. Heal! Heal, heal, heal! I turn the Medicinal Qi to my wounds as best I can, focusing on just… patching everything together. I don't know enough about medicine to really help it beyond focusing.

I am going to fix that, if I survive this.

Just breathing is painful, so I slow it down, steady myself. I can feel the flesh regrowing, inch by painstaking inch. It's slow and painful, but it's happening. By the time I feel like I'm ready to turn around, there's just a pink thin patch of skin that's keeping my insides from being outsides. It's not a great level of recovery, but it's enough for now.

The sight that greets me is definitely not the one I wanted to witness. In the small eternity I spent healing, everyone has been utterly broken. Shan Guojin is a crumpled heap. Song Ren is slumped over, one of his arms still clutching his broken spear… several feet away from the rest of him. The beautiful and perfect Kong Meiling is covered in blood and dirt, her fans tattered as she clutches the slowly healing hole that looks far too much like mine.

Zhou Cheng… is still standing. It's obvious he won't be for much longer though. "Hei Lian…" he calls firmly, his voice resolute despite how haggard he sounds, "You're alive. Good. You must run."

"Run?!" I shriek, vaguely hysterical, "You would ask me to run?!" After all this, after all that 'we must defy the Heavens', now he wants me to run?! It's a little late for that, isn't it, Senior?!

"You must," he insists, facing off against the Heron. "I will hold it off. At least one of us should survive this day."

The Heron, for its part, looks as bad as they do. The wound in its neck is torn and ragged, and deeper blows were struck beside it. It is still standing though, and if I were to place any bets, I would put them on the beast before my brother.

"And where will I run to, Zhou Cheng?" I snap, staggering towards him on unsteady feet. A cold numbness is spreading throughout my soul. There is no more pain, no more exhaustion. There is only resignation and defeat and with it, a sense of freedom from all concerns and desires. "Where in this Mountain can I flee, that the Heron will not follow? What safety will I retreat to?"

He gives me an alarmed look, as the Heron pulls itself up to its full height. "You have to try!"

"I do," I agree, drawing my knife from my sleeve, and holding it out before me as I stare down what is certainly going to be my death. "So I will try to be the person you have always believed me to be capable of being. This humble servant has some pride." I would slap myself a thousand times if it meant avoiding death. But if I'm going to die, it is only fitting I die the way I was born.

Screaming, crying, and ripped away from the only comforts I've ever known.

After a few moments, he lets out a sigh. "Together, then?"

I felt my lips twitch into a grim smile. "Together, then."

He takes a deep breath, and I rush forward, knife held in a tight grip.

The Heron tilts its head… and lashes forward. I feel everything begin to slow down, adrenaline and Qi pumping wildly through my system. The beak is coming closer with every passing moment, and yet, I've yet to take a single step forward as it does. I have no hope of being able to block or even parry it.

This is it. This is my end. The bone deep certainty of it sinks in, and I pour every drop of Qi I have into this one attack - if I die, maybe I can at least take the Heron with me. Maybe that will be enough for Zhou Cheng to survive and ascend. Of all of us, he was always the most talented after all.

My knife collides with the beak… and stops it?

"Well spoken, Juniors!" calls an unfamiliar voice, brash and cheerful and dripping with power. Suddenly, I realise there's a man standing up ahead, grinning madly even as he plants his foot on the decapitated stump of the Heron's neck.

"Even if it is impossible - even if your failure seems certain - when faced with the inevitable, it is always better to try! Nothing is impossible! There is always a chance for a miracle! One in a billion chance miracles happen every day, for there are trillions of opportunities for them in all Creation!"

His words wash over me, because I cannot focus on anything other than the overwhelming aura the man presents. It engulfs and subsumes everything around us, all existence bleeding away until there is only him. There is only his voice, there is only his gaze. Nothing else matters in this moment - nothing else can matter.

Amongst the Heavenly Misty Peak Sect, to be an Elder is to be in the Nascent Soul Realm. I have felt their power only once, during my early days - in order to demonstrate the vast gulf between us and where we were expected to rise, one of the Elder's would perform an exhibition. The power there was still seared into my mind.

This man is beyond that. His power is on an entirely different level. The only person in the Sect who could possibly match him is the Grandmaster, and the rumours say he is still within Closed Door Cultivation.

I do the only thing I can do. I slam my head against the ground so hard I see stars.