The golden doors of the temple swung open, the sun's rays illuminating the polished white marble interior. An immortal couple, laughing, drifted in through the air. The black-clad pair -- a beautiful red-haired woman and a heroic black-haired man -- could be mistaken for youths on a romantic stroll, if not for the fact that they were bespattered with gore, splashes of blood brilliant against their pale skin.

The protectors of the temple, seven men with long white beards in long white robes, strode forward to confront the devilish pair. The golden-lettered scriptures they wore like stoles lent them an air of holiness, and a golden light illuminated the air around them.

The black-clad couple landed silently on the cold marble floor. As the seven men surrounded them, they whirled and stood back-to-back.

"Oh my, it does look like they have us surrounded," the devil-like man called over his shoulder.

"Well that makes it easy, dear," the woman replied, "We have them right where we want them, don't we?"

"Enthusiast," the man mock-complained.

"Yes, but that's why I'm so delightful," the woman said in rejoinder, grinning.

The pair emitted a devilish blood-red aura that pushed back against the golden radiance of the monk-like protectors. Everybody stood still as the battle of the colorful lights commenced, but neither did the golden light crush the red nor did the red tear apart the golden. Seeing that their initial attack ended in an impasse, the seven protectors charged forward to engage the devilish couple in melee.

The monks attacked with their fists and feet, the golden scriptures draped over their shoulders coming alive and fluttering with motions of their own, trying to suppress the movements of the pair. The couple separated, diving ahead into the assault. The man's fists glowed with crimson light, while the woman's nails extended into blade-like claws, these weapons countering hand and leg and parchment, the youthful bodies of both contorting fluidly as they avoided the strikes of the sages.

Droplets of blood flew through the air as claw and fist glanced against the protectors, the old men accumulating several superficial wounds. Their white robes were splashed with the vermilion lines of their own blood.

"Aspect of the Devil: Wrath!" the devilish man shouted, and his figure doubled in size. He slammed his fists to the floor, impacting the marble with spider web cracks and creating a shockwave that blew back the men closest to him.

The woman smirked. "Blood Devouring Universe: Sanguine Ribbon!" she chanted, and the blood that had spattered over all the combatants rose, creating a giant ribbon of blood she manipulated and twirled with her right hand, lashing out like a whip against the men she was facing.

Whether it was the titanic strength or the whirling red whip, both were things the monks could no longer contest against. One protector exploded into a mist of blood with the devilish man's punch as another fell into pieces against the assault of the ribbon. The man grew larger and stronger, the ribbon longer and faster.

Like this, six of the protectors were mowed through like grass, each death strengthening the devilish pair. The seventh protector, the last of them still standing, steeled his resolve and the golden light flared around him. The man's cultivation was being ignited, a final effort to retaliate.

The devilish man leapt and reached for the monk, but the ribbon was quicker, entangling the protector and dragging him to the woman.

"The Heavens will--!" the monk began to shout, a cry cut off as the woman's clawed hand dove into his abdomen, crushing his cultivation and extinguishing the light of ignition.

"The Heavens don't give a crap about you or me, old man," the woman replied, hurling the monk against a wall to explode in a shower of gore.

The devilish man shrunk back to normal size while the woman leapt forward into his arms. As he caught her, the crimson ribbon exploded into a mist of blood that sprayed over the both of them.

"I win!" the woman announced cheerily.

The man shook his head ruefully, and bent to--

Strong River awoke with a start, bolting upright. What had he been dreaming of? Where was it? Who were the man and the woman in the dream? Was it real, or had Mister Black's stories of immortal palaces and magical temples developed into this in his head?

River had slept near dreamlessly ever since he had begun practicing the Passion Sublimation Art. This had been a blessed state, given the recurring nightmares of Sweet Nectar and Brave Dragon, and he had adopted the notion that the loss of dreams was one of the prices to pay for the power he was gaining.

River shook his head, dispelling such thoughts.

"You okay, bro?" Blue Ripple asked, pushing himself up from his blankets as well.

"Yeah, just a dream," River replied tersely.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Blue Ripple yawned as he stood up and went to the tent flap and opening it. "Ah, it's about time to get up anyway, I guess. Get yourself awake and meet me outside, we'll get breakfast ready for the guys."

"Okay," River replied, and then himself yawned and stretched.

Blue Ripple was rummaging through the packs when River met him outside, the first rosy rays of dawn light peeking over the horizon. Blue Ripple selected a waterskin and an object that appeared to be a cloth-wrapped brick. "Hey, bro. Just in time. My, aren't you looking a bit stiff this morning," he observed.

River affected a groan, "Yeah, I may have overdone it a little yesterday." He hadn't, but he was aiming to make the morning as uneventful as he could.

Blue Ripple laughed. "Happens to us all, my man. You'll harden up after a few trips, no doubt. Let's go get this ready, then," he announced, brandishing brick and waterskin.

The brick turned out to be the basic form of the stew that the warriors ate as a staple. Thrown in a cauldron with the water poured on top and heated over a fire, it transformed into the familiar bubbling thick mixture.

The other warriors emerged and began their morning routines, the ones among Blue Ripple's friends coming over to their cook fire to get breakfast and start to plan for the day.

"I think today is a lighter day," Blue Ripple told the men, "I'll be sticking near the edge and try to see if I can show some of the more common herbs to pick to River so he can at least alert one of you plantheads to come pick them."

The others didn't protest the decision at all, having all had successful hauls the day before themselves. Four of them were going to still go deeper and try and haul in some more beasts, but the remaining pair were also inclined to stick near the edge.

After breakfast, the men all geared up and together left the camp. River spotted Soaring Wave on the way out of the camp and received a hateful glare in turn, but no incident occurred between the rival groups of warriors.

Reaching the forest's edge, the warriors split into their pairs and entered. River was alert but listened as Blue Ripple engaged in his favorite pastime: talking. Blue Ripple himself wasn't too deeply versed in herbalism, but his knowledge of the lore was extensive enough for having a handle on what was beneficial, what was poisonous, and what could be useful in a pinch. River had no objection to acquiring this information now, all things considered.

The morning hours passed with agonizing slowness as the shafts of sunlight peeking through the trees tilted ever higher with the sun's height. The two didn't encounter any beasts as they surveyed the forest and Blue Ripple lectured on and on. Using his lack of knowledge of herbs and their prime locations as an excuse, River also managed to get insight into Blue Ripple's own experiences on finding sources of water in the forest.

"Your first present is about to arrive," Mister Black dryly observed.

River's pulse quickened as he heard the announcement. His heightened hearing filled with the thrumming of his blood coursing through his veins as his heart pounded. His attention wandered from Blue Ripple cheerily comparing root systems of a couple plants as he waited for the signal.

A shrill, trilling whistle sounded, unlike the call of any beast River had yet encountered, and Blue Ripple broke off mid-lecture, his face growing a bit pale as the whistle sounded again. "Crap."

"What's that?" River asked, nervous.

"That's a big fricking problem. Something from the inner forest is nearby, and somebody's run into it. That's the signal to retreat to the edge and regroup. Let's go!" Blue Ripple turned and leapt off towards the forest's exterior, and River followed.

Exiting the forest, the pair met up with the other warriors exiting the woods.

"Report!" Blue Ripple barked.

"Moon-striped Sabermaw," one of the warriors announced.

Blue Ripple whistled. "That cat's a long way from home. Grade fives, with me to intercept. Everybody else, pull back to camp," Blue Ripple commanded. "No arguments!"

The cluster of warriors split into two groups. "Sorry bro," Blue Ripple told River with an apologetic shrug, "but this one's a big one. In the future when you're stronger, we'll go get one together, right?" He patted River on the shoulder and turned and led the handful of fifth-grade warriors off to where one of them was pointing.

River returned with the others to the camp. As they returned, the fifth-grade warriors from Soaring Wave's cadre were briefed and soon left to go assist the rest of the warriors.

River went through the motions of dropping off some items at Blue Ripple's beast, replacing his half-full waterskin with a full one. Mentally reviewing his checklist and finding it complete, he returned to the area of the camp near Blue Ripple's tent to wait.

"How's it going?" River asked inwardly, trying his best to quell his anxiety.

"The cat's leading them on a merry chase. They're disappointingly circumspect, so there aren't any casualties yet," Mister Black complained.

River ignored the implication there. "And the second present?"

"Shortly. I'm getting the others well away and engaged before springing that."

River nodded, but couldn't help but begin pacing anxiously in a circle outside the tent.

A quarter hour or so later, faint howls could be heard in the distance. River stopped pacing.

"Crap!" a warrior manning the stockade wall cursed as he picked up a brass tube and peered through it in the direction of the forest. "What the hell is happening in the forest today?"

"Report!" Soaring Wave commanded.

"We've got a small pack of mossbacks out there along the edge. Normally that's not too bad, but if they catch everybody else from behind..." the man's voice trailed off, leaving the conclusion unspoken.

Soaring Wave frowned and looked around the camp at everybody for a moment, chewing his lower lip thoughtfully. His expression brightened as an idea occurred to him.

"Stumpy," he called over his favored henchman, whispering in his ear. The stone-faced brute nodded without comment, flickering a quick, almost imperceptible glance at River as he did. Then the pair walked to the center of the camp.

"Guys," he announced, "we've got to do something about those mossbacks or else the others might be in trouble. It should only take a small team of us, let's say me, Stumpy here..." he looked around, "you, Archer," he said, addressing a man with a bow on his back, "and... you, River."

River gave a small hop as his name was called. "M-me?"

"Yeah, everybody saw that mossback you beat the crap out of, after all." Soaring Wave replied. "Unless, of course, you're too scared to go out in the forest without a wetnurse?"

River sneered inwardly as he shook his head outwardly. "N-no, I can do it. I was just a little surprised." He looked around and saw the concern etched on the faces of a couple warriors from Blue Ripple's group. He made some small hand gestures at them, trying to signal that it was okay.

"Be surprised later," Soaring Wave chided. "Let's go and get this done, boys."

For once, River mused as the selected four set off together, that was a sentiment of Soaring Wave's that he could wholeheartedly agree with.