When spring finally came, along with the blossoming of the flowers, melting the layers of snow into a deluge of mud and muck. It carried with it not the dance of life that it usually did, at least, not for Fang and the hunters.
Lu and Dan had long since been laid to rest, their ashes spread into the twisting tree in the town square, washed into the earth with their favorite wine.
Kang had taken to drinking relentlessly in the aftermath. Losing two of his sworn brothers had left a bitter taste in his mouth, that he couldn’t wash out, even with all the wine in the world.
Liu and Tian weren’t any better, but luckily had wives and kids to help them recover.
It took a whole month until Kang finally awoke from his grief. He cleaned the Matriarchs’ skull, hanging its head on the outside of the hunters’ lodge as a reminder of the pyrrhic victory.
Every remaining intact organ not crushed by the tree was harvested. The eyes sold to the herbalist, the claws made into knives, the fangs into spear tips.
Save for the horn…
Kang had given the horn to Fang. The boy tried to refuse, citing that it was Kang who stalled the beast. But Kang wouldn’t accept it, he knew that without the boy’s intervention he would’ve been reduced to cinders by the Qi-beam.
It was only right in the man’s mind for the boy to take the horn.
The group then divided up the rest of the bounty, giving larger portions of what was sold and harvested to the families of Lu and Dan.
Even then, with fur, claw and bone still remaining, Fang had finally found himself somewhat rich. He had a hefty twenty taels in his bank, with more to come as he sold the rest of his bounty.
He was sure the Horn itself could be sold for a massive sum, but unfortunately, Kang had warned him that it would be a fools errand to try and sell it to the peddlers.
Not only did they not have the money to buy such an item, but the very sight of such a treasure would likely paint a target on his back.
Greed knows no bounds.
Or so he says.
A Qi-beast wasn’t even the rarest thing, but the Lunar wolf Matriarch was. Such an exotic treasure would surely invite death.
Kang recommended him to try his hand at an auction house. They were bastions of rare and hard to find resources. Promising anonymity and only the highest prices. The only problem was, that they only appeared in towns, or cities.
Fang could only wait, as he wasn’t confident in making the trip to Blue River Town with his current strength. He needed more manuals to fuse together, time to train, and hopefully a peddler to hitch a ride with, if he was lucky.
And so spring passed by in the blink of an eye.
—
Beneath a half-shattered pine with its trunk split nearly in two, as if a boulder had been launched at it from point blank range. Fang sat, his legs crossed in lotus position. His face serene.
The summer breeze had made its way to Forests Edge, the temperature almost too perfect to be true.
Birds chirped and squirrels ran about, chittering away at one another as they frolicked amidst the trees.
Yet, despite all the peace and serenity on the outside, internally, Fang was suffering.
His stomach clawed at him from within, threatening to vomit nothing but bile as wave after wave of nausea built into knots of pain.
He hadn’t eaten a thing in the last seven days. Not a grain of rice nor smidgen of meat. His beautiful body withered like a malnourished dog. His lips had long since gone dry, chapped and bleeding — devoid of even a hint of moisture.
He’d gone so long without water he’d forgotten when he last pissed.
But yet he sat completely still.
His chest rising up and down like the trees waving in the summer breeze.
Time went by…
The previously beautiful skies slowly grew dark. Ominous bundles of clouds formed and without warning, a deluge of rain crashed to the earth. The small critters around dashed into the thick of the trees as they sought cover.
Yet Fang sat completely still.
There was water all around him, that just looking up would’ve given him a hydrating respite from the terrible thirst within, but he made no attempt to move.
His breathing stayed calm even as his body shook, his muscles quivered and the rain pelted his skin like rubber bullets.
From thin air, seemingly out of the immaterium, a flash of golden light washed over Fangs body.
His eyes opened with immense difficulty, as if trying to pry apart a a clam shell.
A weak smile graced his desolate lips.
“Finally…”
Fang :
[Cultivation]
- Mortal Forging Sutra II (Initiation)
[Technique]
- *Stormquaking Strides I (Great Success)
[Bloodline]
- Mortal Human
His Mortal Forging Sutra had finally reached the second stage.
Without warning, Fang’s whole being shook.
His eyes bulged as his irises expanded to fill his sclera. Blood flooded out of eye ducts as the sound of his beating heart drummed in his ears.
His nose bled rivers of blood, quickly washed away by the crashing rains.
His mind numbed as the very world around him seemed to slow.
It was like each of his senses was set aflame. Forcefully expanded, wrenched open by heaven’s heavy hand.
The dark of the day grew bright, as if there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky.
His skin tingled against the rain, the cold felt to his very bones.
His ears felt like balloons about to burst as the world screamed at him.
SNAP!
Like a rubber band whipping back, his senses normalized. His pupils constricted back to normal with a sharp lash. His ears popping as if he’d descended from Everest — the very world spun back to normal.
Fangs body shook once more as the System adjusted his mortal coil. The familiar feeling of euphoria gracing him with relief.
With great difficulty he craned his neck to the sky, feeling ice-like rain pour needles over his heightened senses.
He opened his mouth, drinking the water as it fell onto his tongue. Each tiny droplet, pure unadulterated nectar.
God, I fucking love water…
With a monumental effort he stood. His legs quivering with every step as he slowly walked back to the village.
The sky had just began to darken as he made it back to the orphanage. He stumbled through the door, his body barely able to support its own weight and exhaustion.
He found himself face to face with anger incarnate.
“You FOOLISH, FOOLISH BOY!” Granny Gian admonished, walking over and smacking him on the back of the head in anger at how late he was.
Fang felt the full brunt of the impact rattle his skull, too weak to even reply, he began to crumple to the floor.
“Ah!?” Granny Gian gasped. She immediately reached out, desperately trying to stop him from slamming to the floor. Yet her age could hardly bare his weight. She felt his malnourishment beneath her weathered hands, the cold emanating from his bones.
“QIN! YEON! Wake up!” She screamed into the building. The two kids, only a couple of years younger than Fang rushed into the room. Their eyes went wide as they spied their older brother covered in mud, slumped to the floor in Granny Gian’s hands. They ran over, helping her carry him towards the fire.
Granny Gian moved to the large pot hung over the hearth, filling a small bowl with leftover stew, still warm from dinner.
She lifted Fang’s head, tipping the contents into his mouth.
“Slowly—slowly dear.” She whispered.
Qin and Yeon could only stare at him, confused.
“What happened to him?” They asked.
Granny Gian could only shake her head.
“We’ll talk in the morning you two, thank you for helping your dear old granny. Please, grab a blanket for your elder brother and return to bed, he’ll be okay.” She said, with a soft smile.
The two left to grab bedding for Fang before returning to bed.
Fang was barely conscious, his body swallowing the stew out of pure instinct. He muttered, the faintest of sounds.
“Thank you, Granny…”
“Shush boy, sleep, rest.”
Fang nodded, and before he knew it he fell into a deep slumber.
—
Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
Explaining to Granny Gian that he’d been starving himself to the bone for the past few days wasn’t easy.
“Why Fang? Why are you so desperate to get stronger?” She pleaded.
Fang could only sigh. He rubbed his face, feeling his bones through his fingers.
“Because I feel like a frog in a well...”
“A frog?”
Fang held a bitter smile, the words caught in his throat.
“I.. I don’t know Granny, I feel like it’s what I’m supposed to do. That this is my fate. I can’t escape it.”
Granny stared at the young boy before her. She saw his dark eyes flicker with an unusual glow, a spark hidden deep beneath the surface. She sighed, knowing that there was nothing she could do.
“If you believe it to be the will of the heavens, then all I ask is that you… that you take care of yourself Fang. It’s what your parents would’ve wanted.”
Fang took a deep breath, releasing as if a weight had been taken off his shoulders.
“My parents? I thought-“
“They abandoned you? No dear, they couldn’t bare to bring you with them. Like you, they were chasing the heavens. The world of immortals is not a place to raise a child.”
Fang nodded his head. It was understandable, he doubted they were Sect disciples, most likely rogue cultivators on their own path.
“Thank you Granny, for everything.” He said, holding her hands in his.
She looked down at his fingers, a tear bubbling in her eyes.
“You say it like you’re going to leave us.”
Fang smiled softly.
“Not immediately, but soon, when the peddlers arrive I plan on leaving with them.”
Granny Gian could only wipe her tears from her face. A smile on her lips.
“My little Fang is all grown up, promise me you’ll visit again?”
Fang grinned.
“Of course Granny, I can’t go the rest of my life without your stew.”
The two shared a hug before Fang left to ruminate.
Waves of emotion ran through Fang. The memories of his past life overlapping with Granny Gian’s tender care. It was disorienting to say the least. His parents of both lives barely present. To be loved was foreign to him, and to love in return equally as distant.
It seems fate works in mysterious ways. He thought, sighing. He looked down at himself, seeing his emancipated form.
The worries I have can wait, first I need to regain my muscles, my strength.
—
As summer came to its end, the warm breeze replaced with a soft cool air that hung below the trees like a blanket. Fang was excited as the first wave of peddlers finally arrived. They always came towards the end of summer, on their last leg of their journey before returning and hunkering down for the winter months.
But Fang could only frown as they pulled into Forests Edge.
The groups looked haggard, as if they’d been through hell and back. Many carts were littered in sword marks, arrows and dried blood along their sides. The guards were bandaged up and down, even some the peddlers themselves were injured.
With great relief he spied the peddler who he’d traded with before, surprisingly uninjured as she stepped into the village square. Her large brim hat still covering her face as she set her bamboo mat across the compacted dirt floor.
Fang approached, with a water-skin in hand.
“Hello again, it’s nice to see you once more.” He said, holding out the drink.
The woman tilted her head back, just enough to glimpse Fang and the water-skin. And though he couldn’t see her features he could sense a brow raise beneath her masked cowl.
“Hello, likewise… is this for me?”
Fang smiled. “It seems like you’ve all had a hard time getting here.”
The woman smiled, and received the drink, pulling her mask down barely before taking a large swig of the refreshing water before handing it back to Fang.
“Thank you, that was very kind of you.” She said, shifting her position until she was comfortable.
“Yes, we encountered a few bandits on the way here. They were stalking out on the northern road out of Blue River Town. Praying on anyone traveling to to the ferry or further North. They wanted us to pay a toll, some did… and others didn’t.”
Fangs brows creased together at the news. That was the route he planned to take, and he didn’t feel all to keen to have to give up the hard-earned money he gathered.
“Aren’t the Sects supposed to handle these sorta things? He asked.
The woman nodded.
“Usually, but sometimes they get… lazy.”
“Lazy?”
“Mmm, it’s below them. More of a chore than duty to many of them.”
Fang grit his teeth, fucking immortals.
The woman seemed to notice his anger and chuckled a soft laugh.
“Don’t worry yourself over it, people are unlikely to come this far north, now, how can I help you today?”
Fang quelled the anger in him, knowing that there was little he could do about it… for now.
“I’m looking for a couple things: Body refining manuals, and as many fist, palm and finger techniques you can offer me.”
The woman tilted her head.
“Come into some money have you?” She asked.
Fang smiled.
“A little. But someone once told me to never reveal how much.”
The woman chuckled.
“They sound wise.”
She rummaged through her large pack, pulling out a stack of manuals bound together by a corded rope.
“Here, look through these and see if anything resonates.”
Fang accepted the bundle and sat on the floor quickly delving into the manuals.
There are still the same ones I’d seen previously: Splitting Stone Palm, Iron knuckle Strike… but also new ones: Heart-Breaking Fist, Snake Coiling Punch, Lighting Needle Finger, Bone-Crushing Claw…
I also have to consider not just the technique, but the potential fusions.
The question is, do the techniques have to be of the same vein? Can a claw technique fuse with a palm? I don’t believe the system, in all of its mystical glory, would be limited by such… stylistic problems.
It’s a gamble, but one I’m willing to take.
Wait…
Why am I limiting myself to just body techniques?
“Do you have any sword or saber manuals?” Fang asked, looking up from the stack of manuals.
The woman nodded her head, pulling out another stack of manuals from her pack.
How much shit can she fit in that bag?
The new stack of manuals were all weapon based, all focusing on the most popular weapons, the sword, saber and spear.
Sky Shearing Sword, Three Mountain Swing, Falling Leaf Slash, River-Parting Blade, True Spear Thrusts…
Hmm, it would be smart to not spread myself too thin. I don’t even have a weapon to practice with.
Fang scratched his head, trying to make a decision on what path he should follow.
“Would you like some advice?” The woman asked, chuckling as she watched the young boy rattle his head in indecision.
Fang gave a wry smile.
“Please, if you would senior.”
The woman nodded, and looked Fang up and down. He felt a slight shudder as she did, as if her eyes could pierce into his soul.
“You have a sturdy foundation, it seems you’ve reached a high stage of body refining, much higher than I’ve seen for your age. I would recommend capitalizing on this, weapons are useful tools, and can enhance a persons strength, but tools can break. Your body on the other hand, will only continue to strengthen.”
Fang nodded, her advice resonating deep in his core.
She’s right. I’ve built a strong body, it would be foolish not to continue using it, to rely on a blade when my hands can shatter stones.
“Your words ring true senior, I’ve made my choice. I’ll take three manuals, the Heart-Breaking Fist, Bone-Crushing Claw and Lighting Needle Finger.”
She smiled, nodding her head.
“That’ll be nine taels. Do you still want to look at body refining manuals?“
Fang nodded. This was arguably the most important decision, as it would evolve the very foundation of his body.
She rummaged through her bag once more, but this time only brought out three manuals.
Golden-Bark Skin Refinement, Iron-Shelled Turtle Method and Enduring Breath Scripture.
The first two manuals focused on increasing the durability of the user. Of the two, Fang found himself leaning towards the Iron-Shelled Turtle Method, as it focused not just on the skin, but the muscle underneath as well. Though it fell a little short of the other in terms of pure defensive power.
I could use a little more durability, but honestly, the chances of me surviving any Qi-based attack with mere body refining is slim to none, no matter how strong I get my skin.
The last technique, however, did peek his interest.
The Enduring Breath Scripture aimed to raise the practitioners vitality, increasing their innate regeneration and endurance, while offering small boons towards their foundation.
The increased regeneration caught his eye, and while the scripture didn’t promise regenerating an arm or leg, more so recovery from wounds and bone damage… For Fang, such a limitation wasn’t a problem.
If I can fuse this manual with more like it… Can I achieve near immortal regeneration? Is that possible?
The potential ability was too great to pass up.
“I’ll take the Enduring Breath Scripture.” He said, confident in his choice.
“Good choice. Shoring up your foundation is always vital, as weak wood only leads to collapsing pagodas.”
The total price was nineteen taels, nearly all of his money. But Fang paid without hesitation.
“Thank you senior, also, I was wondering, is it at all possible to journey with the caravan when you all decide to return to Blue River Town?”
The woman thought for a moment.
“I wouldn’t be opposed, but you realize that it’s a treacherous journey? Bandits aside, beasts stalk the wilds… among other things.”
Fang nodded his head firmly.
“I do, and I’ve also fought a few beasts myself. I would do my part in keeping the caravan safe.”
The woman smiled.
“Well then we wouldn’t be opposed to additional hands. Make sure to meet us here in two weeks and we’ll set off together.”
Fang beamed a large smile.
“Thank you senior, for the opportunity and advice.”
“Don’t mention it, make sure to practice properly, and take care.”
Fang set off, immediately heading to his training spot in the woods. He planned on initiating all of his new techniques before they left, which meant non-stop training for the next two weeks.
And, despite the skin blistering training that lay ahead, he was actually quite excited to get started.
Getting stronger after all, was turning out to be quite addicting.
—
Fang decided to focus on his offensive techniques first, as practicing the Enduring Breath Scripture required long bouts of hyperventilation, hanging upside down, and enduring freezing cold waters. He’d have to make a trip to a nearby lake for that, so he opted to focus on his offensive techniques first, as the closest lake was a couple hours away.
The first technique Fang learnt, was the Heart-Shattering Fist.
The fist technique aimed to disrupt the internal organs of the target through fast, twisting strikes with his middle knuckles.
At the moment of impact, he had to rotate his entire arm so fast that he nearly dislocated his shoulder the first couple times he attempted the technique.
It’s training regimen wasn’t too bad either, just bare knuckle strikes, arm twists with heavy stones in hand, and grinding his knuckles into a tree until smoke appeared.
Within two days, he initiated the technique. To his surprise however, there was no body morphing pain that followed, only a slight warmth in his hands, followed by small wealth of instinctual knowledge.
It seemed his body was already adapted, or that the technique wasn’t as demanding as his others.
The next technique Fang chose, was the Lightning Needle Finger.
This… wasn’t nearly as easy as the last. As human fingers just aren’t suited for striking. There are just too many points of failure: Nineteen little pieces of bone and nine joints are too many moving pieces to endure a powerful attack.
The Lightning Needle Finger aimed to remedy that. The technique promised fingers strong enough to puncture stone, and even more, explosive speed to back it up.
The process was grueling. Fang had to progressively stab his fingers into harder and harder materials, slowly building up resilience in his fingers over a period of five days.
He started with rice, then dirt, then even harder dirt, then the softness wood he could find, before moving onto the bare hard-wood of the many pines, before he could finally reach stone.
His fingers had swelled, the joints becoming rigid and tender. His nails hardened into malformed square shapes. His hands hurt to the point that just trying to grip something caused pain to shoot up his arms.
When he finally reached initiation, his hands shook immensely. His finger joints cracked, shifting like ants were crawling under his skin. He watched in horror as his nails slid off his fingers, only to reveal new blackened nails beneath, as if they had been forged in fire.
The ensuing euphoria was a relief, as his hands had finally returned to usable states, having adapted to the technique proper.
Yet, nothing could top the feeling of sheer joy Fang felt when the system appeared before him.
[Compatible Techniques acquired…
- Fuse Heart-Breaking Fist (Initiation) into Lightning Needle Finger (Initiation) ?
- Fuse Lightning Needle Finger (Initiation) into Heart-Breaking Fist (Initiation) ?
Fuse Lightning Needle Fist into Heart-Breaking Fist!
A wave of power coursed through Fang’s hands. A terrible crackling filling the air as the bones in his hand morphed and hardened once more. It felt like he’d accidentally placed his hands in a hydraulic press before slipping them into a wood chipper.
The scene was disturbing. The bones moving under skin like hundreds of worms were boring their way through his tendon and muscle alike.
Fang could hardly endure it, falling to his knees as he groaned through his teeth. His black nails had fallen off again, only to grow back in real-time, replaced by new, onyx black nails that glistened in the day-light. They were pointed, sharp-like knives and incredibly study.
Fang took heaving breaths as the pain subsided. The following euphoria honestly doing little to help numb the lingering experience.
He could only give a weak smile as he stared at System.
Fang :
[Cultivation]
- Mortal Forging Sutra II (Initiation)
[Technique]
- *Stormquaking Strides I (Great Success)
- *Viscera Rupturing Strikes I (Initiation)
[Bloodline]
- Mortal Human
“haaa…” Just another technique and then some enduring breathing left to go… at least I won’t have to worry about training my hands anymore… He thought to himself.
Like many times before, Fang’s head filled with a small trove of instinctual knowledge. It wasn’t anything tangible, yet his mind and body knew how to use his new technique.
Fang stood, turning to face the poor battered tree that he’d abused throughout all of his training. The tree was littered in small, finger-sized holes, knuckle sized craters, and his kick that had nearly carved the tree in two.
This might be the final nail…
Fang’s hand shot out with terrifying speed. He felt the air part like water as his fingers formed a blade-like structure.
He stabbed his hand into the tree, his nails sinking into the hardwood like butter, before twisting over with such force that the entire tree groaned.
The wood swirled around his hand like clay, before Fang pushed forwards once more, collapsing his fingers and performing a one-inch punch.
VH-BOOM!
The backside of the tree exploded outwards in a sudden hail of wood and debris. Fang stepped backwards, his feet carrying him thirty steps in a single stride, leaving heavy prints behind him.
The colossal pine groaned as it began to fall away from him, the trunk snapping in two as it separated from its stump.
Large chunks of wood shot outwards at Fang in retaliation. His eyes dilated, his senses kicking into overdrive. In a single breath his deflected numerous pieces of wood from impaling him. His hands stabbing out in a blurred mirage of strikes.
BOOM!
The tree slammed to the earth, before lifting a cloud of dust into the air.
Fang waved the smoke from his face, smiling as he did so.
Ah, this will do. This will indeed, do just fine.
He was satisfied with the results. And it wasn’t even the end, he still had a claw technique, not to mention the Enduring Breath Scripture.
Though, it was hard to imagine the claw technique empowering his new Viscera Rupturing Strikes even further.
Fang was giddy. His teenage body unable to handle his excitement as he almost visibly shook in glee.
Truly, the young boy was becoming addicted to gaining strength.
As many, in this harsh world, are.
—
The time to leave was approaching.
Fang had easily initiated the Bone-Crushing Claw technique a few days ago, his newfound hand and finger strength making the training laughable easy.
It was no surprise then, if a little disappointing, that upon initiation, he didn’t get a fusion prompt. He also didn’t experience no such metamorphosis. A slight warmth perhaps, a slight internal itchiness in his hands, but nothing else.
Fang hypothesized that it was due the claw technique being ‘inferior’ in grade to his new technique.
Going forward, he’d either have to fuse two Mortal grade techniques into an Earth grade technique before attempting another fusion, or find an Earth Grade technique to begin with.
As it stood, the claw technique would just have to wait its turn before fusion. It did provide a small benefit in allowing Fang to incorporate claw forms into his fighting style, giving him even more versatility in battle. Or if need be, as a cover for his better techniques.
With only two days left until the peddlers were to leave, Fang made the journey to the lake to finish the final component of his body refining. Though, the couple hour journey took far shorter than he thought it would, as he was finally able to push his Stormquaking Strides to its limits, shooting through the forest like a speeding bullet.
The second stage of the Mortal Forging Sutra was vital in allowing him to function at such high speeds, he moved with blurring strides, each step propelling him thirty in a single second. His heightened senses came in clutch, allowing him avoid smashing face-first into a tree during the journey.
Within only thirty minutes he reached his destination.
A large lake of crystal clear waters. The trees surrounding its shores reflected off of its serene surface, painting a beautiful picture for Fang to take in. On the far side of the lake he could barely make out a couple of deer lapping up the crystal waters. Next to them, a quiet stream fed into the lake.
Fang quickly undressed before pushing through the reeds along the lake bank, stepping into the frigid waters. He felt his feet sink into the ground below, small plumes of dirt rising to muddy the waters.
He waded until he could sit down with his head just barely above the waters’ surface. His body shivered as he did so, goosebumps rising across his skin as the cold swept away his internal body heat.
He looked down, seeing his reflection stare back at him.
His hair had gotten quite long. Mimicking the rough style of the hunters, dark, thick lengths of hair rolled down to his shoulders in small blade like clumps, giving him a feral look.
His eyes, muddy like the lake floor stared back, holding a sharp, slightly bored look.
I am Fang.
Fang is me.
With a deep breath, he began to practice the Enduring Breath Scripture.
He started with deep, long breaths, before moving to faster hyperventilating breaths.
His heart rate rose, then dropped. Like the soft waves ebbing onto the lake shore, he continued regulating his breath and heart until his body became numb to the cold.
He sat still for so long that even the fish inhabiting the lake had began to swim around him. Thinking him an odd looking rock, or a misplaced tree.
Perhaps if he was aiming for Peak Mastery, he would’ve needed to spend weeks meditating in the lake.
But as it stood, with the help of the system, it only took a matter of hours to reach Initiation.
[Compatible Techniques acquired…
- Fuse Enduring Breath Scripture I (Initiation) into Mortal Forging Sutra II (Initiation) ?
- Fuse Mortal Forging Sutra II (Initiation) into Enduring Breath Scripture I (Initiation) ?
Fang withheld his choice, rising out of the waters, scaring the fish away as he did so.
He didn’t want to go through the fusion process in the water, lest he drown to death as he spasmed in pain.
He dressed himself, taking a deep breath before sitting down, resting his hands on his knees.
Fuse Enduring Breath Scripture into Mortal Forging Sutra!
His body quaked, a tremor of pain flickering through his eyes. His heart thundered a single time.
Then darkness.