Shouts echoed below Xing Zheng as he looked over the portion of the forest beneath the ridge he sat atop. Thin clouds lightened the sun's rays casting the valley in a soft light that seemed to fit just right with the cool breeze. With his divine sense, he could see both of his wards rapidly evading a large spirit beast.
It was one of the stronger opponents one might find inside the Flowing Grass Valley. The animal in question resembled an overgrown boar with a pair of sharp horns to accompany its tusks. Standing just as tall as a horse, and half again wider than one, the Four-deaths Boar, named for its four deadly appendages, cut an imposing figure.
Focusing on it revealed a savage visage that contained a fierce battle intent. Its fur which would normally be a smooth coat seemed to bundle into smooth plates almost like scales. This was due to the creature’s affinity for Earth Qi allowing it to naturally harden parts of its body.
Over time the spirit boars had developed habits of rolling in dust and mud, coating their fur in natural energies that aligned with their affinities. Eventually, that led to an odd technique that was surprisingly effective all things considered. The result was a foe with a surprising burst of speed from charging and who was armored head to toe.
Hitting the beast was akin to impacting something wearing mortal-natural treasure armor. Added to this was the boar’s unnatural ability to soften and harden the ground below its feet unconsciously. This made up for the fact that it was naturally not agile by giving it excellent footing along with enhancing its already superior defenses.
In all, Xing Zheng felt that it was a good opportunity for the young warriors to hone themselves. Too often lately they had been sparring with other martial artists of a similar realm in a dueling fashion. Those opponent’s all shared the same traits, armed with only their weapons and prepared to engage in duels of martial prowess.
This was a great way to hone martial arts in general and benefited the two greatly. However, the foes they faced would not always meet them as such. Although armor and magical treasures were not common in mortal kingdoms they still existed.
There would come a day when either of the boys would meet an opponent who wouldn’t succumb to a few well-placed blows or be able to unleash devastating attack power upon them. As such the Four-deaths Boar offered them the opportunity to face the former for now and he would endeavor to find an opponent that could test them in the latter case. Already Xing Zheng could see the look of irritation on Fan Zhong’s face as he stared daggers at a few cracked plates upon the beat’s flank.
Seeing this caused him to smile, many young martial artists, and even those in the later realms, would give up when using their strongest attacks couldn’t breach a defense. They would say such things as ‘ahhhh, the Qi barrier is too strong!’. In reality, Xing Zheng had met many foes who could take dozens of blows to their defenses however, that didn’t mean he couldn’t defeat them.
Understanding that battles were as much about attrition as technique and power was an important lesson to learn. Examining the young men closer he could see that Fan Yong was nursing a large gash to the side of his right leg. Meanwhile, Fan Zhong’s left arm had several shallow punctures from the tusks and horns of the Four-deaths Boar.
As he watched the latter take a side swipe of the beats tusk to the ribs, and be sent into a tree with a rather loud impact, Xing Zheng heard a growl filled with rage next to him. Little White, who had been sitting next to him, rose on his haunches. The beast king was gathering power, ready to rip out the boar’s throat.
With a smile Xing Zheng slowly petted the water wolf’s neck, releasing a small torrent of Qi that surrounded the beast's body and pushed down. Combining the energy with a small part of his focus, he quickly pressed Little White back down to the ground. A soft whimper of pleading escaped from the spirit beast's maw, as he leveled his most adorable expression at the old swordsman.
“Calm down my friend, it's hardly a challenge for your master if you simply kill the beast in a single exchange.” Xing Zheng’s voice was calm and it carried a small amount of his mental energy.
Suddenly the water wolf was calmed as the soothing effect of the small trick did its work. His master used to do the same thing to him whenever he was overly emotional, a small weaving of mental energy and will. It had taken Xing Zheng years to even realize it was intentional and decades to manage the feat himself.
Now that he was spending so much time with juniors in the mortal realms, however, he felt it was worth every second of training. As Little White stilled beside him, going back to napping with a slight huff, he casually formed his right hand into a mock sword. With a barely audible wisp of the wind, his hand cut three graceful slashes through the air, sending the same amount of tiny sword phantoms out to silently enter the boar.
The attack was so quick that it created slicing disk-shaped shockwaves in front of him that would’ve leveled the surrounding 10 meters of trees. This never happened, however, as Xing Zheng carefully used basic effect manipulation to wrap the shockwaves into the phantoms to increase their power. In an instant the attacks entered the beast, injuring just enough for his purposes.
One more effect manipulation removed the signs his attacks ever landed, leaving his wards’ opponent now slower and with less strength. A brief scan over the fight showed that Fan Zhong and Fan Yong were faring much better now.
Nodding his head in approval at his own attack, something that might have earned a reprimand from his master, he allowed his thoughts to drift to other matters. His mind wandered to their parting from the Reclusive Sword Mountain Sect. During his stay there the Sect Master had been engaging with him to negotiate the terms of their branch status.
Normally a mortal branch sect would look for talents in the mortal kingdom they were situated in. After that at certain times officials from the parent sect, in this case, the Azure Rain Sword Sect, would visit and allow those with high potential to come with them back to the main sect. By doing this the branch sect offered valuable scouting and low-level training to those who might one day grow to great heights.
Alongside this, they received a large amount of support in the form of better equipment, cultivation aids, techniques, and even protection. However, joining an immortal sect outside of a spirit-tier nation would cause the branch to become a part of the main sect’s faction. They would be expected to follow the rules of any organization of the spirit level. That included the rules barring higher-level sects from engaging in mortal conflicts.
This is where the issue with the Reclusive Mountain Sword Sect had come up. Many of their members, including the nine swords, had enmity with the Wei clan. As such, they were not willing to simply exit the conflict that had seen so many of their own slain, so many friends lost. It wasn’t unheard of for mortal branch sects to engage in conflicts that were below their main sect; however, the restrictions on them were far harsher.
For example, a sect looking to do such a thing had to have all guardians from their main sect retreat from the conflict to stop accusations of a spirit-level sect engaging in mortal conflict. With this, that branch sect would no longer receive as many resources or equipment for the duration of the conflict. Basic supplies and other aid could still be provided however, that was all the branch would receive until they withdrew or were victorious.
Knowing all of this Xing Zheng had been trying to convince Jie Ling to withdraw from the war. The sect could claim their current territory as their grounds, allowing their border’s to keep the Wei caged while also letting the Azure Rain Sword Sect assure their safety. Through much persuasion, he had managed to win the man over to his side although he seemed of two minds about the matter.
Finally, Xing Zheng had offered to move their sect to the other side of Green Mist mountain, allowing the ones who wanted to fight to remain. This would align with their goals as a branch sect as the position would still let them scout the valley clans as well as wandering plains tribes. With his status as Lin Qiu’s disciple, it was trivial to secure the funds to build them an entirely new, larger, and better-equipped sect grounds.
After receiving confirmation of this Jie Ling put the matter to a vote with the Nine Swords, mentioning that he had been contacted anonymously to keep Xing Zheng’s identity hidden. Many would have accepted the offer simply because it came from a member of the royal family however, he didn’t want to bully them into doing so with his name. On the morning of their departure, the Sect Master had informed him that the vote was seven in favor of staying and three for withdrawing.
The man had expressed that he still wished to move forward with the idea and they had come to an agreement. Xing Zheng would order their new sect built and for the construction duration, they would stay in the war. Once that was complete all sect members would be given a choice to remain and hold the line or retreat to the new sect grounds.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Conservative estimates put the construction time between five to ten years. Xing Zheng hoped in his heart that would be long enough for the inter-valley war to resolve itself. In actuality, he was tempted to simply go to Wei City himself and execute the Wei clan in its entirety. However, he knew that would simply be the selfish act of a tyrant, not the act of Xing Zheng, Grand Elder of the Azure Rain Sword Sect.
Not to mention the political implications that it would have, a spirit tier cultivator slaughtering one of the ruling clans within a mortal kingdom? It would be an absolute scandal not to mention a disgrace to his master and sect. In addition, the Ice Phoenix Sorcerer’s Abode had not forgotten him after his defeat of Yin Jie and it was no doubt they could use such an incident, along with his recent activities, to cause untold trouble for him and his master. Just thinking of that outcome caused him to sigh in exasperation.
Even though he had gained so much power, in the end, he was still helpless when it came to such things. Looking down at Fan Zhong and Fan Yong standing over the Four-deaths Boar bloodied and victorious he could only smile sadly. It seemed his disciple would have to find a way to deal with this war himself.
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Fan Zhong was awakened by the feeling of the ground twisting under his body. For some reason, the ground was soft, warm, and unreasonably comfortable. Groaning, he tried to rise from his lying position only to immediately regret it. Pain seemed to envelop his mind as his left arm seemed to catch fire.
Everywhere hurt, from his joints to his chest it felt like someone had taken a meat tenderizer to his entire body. Which he supposed someone had, in a roundabout fashion. Slowly, memories came to him as he recalled fighting the Four-deaths Boar, which had been two days ago, and the bast… his teacher had given them no rest since.
Immediately after fighting the beast, they had been given the roughest round of first aid Fan Zhong had ever received, including the arena medics in the Reclusive Sword Mountain Sect. Following that the old swordsman had stuffed foul-tasting herbs into their mouths, applied the ‘Master’s Affection’ seal to both of them, and sent them on a two-hour hike. Well, the insane old man had called it a ‘hike’. Inwardly, Fan Zhong doubted anyone ever associated that word with sprinting through the forest while dodging sword phantoms that moved too fast to see with the naked eye.
Each time they were hit the seal on their strength got slightly stronger and of course, the phantoms packed a punch as well. Nothing mortally threatening, of course, the old demon liked to stew his meat slowly after all. Considering all of this Fan Zhong felt that it was safe to say that someone had taken a meat tenderizer to his whole body.
After the exercise, they had been forced to walk while constantly focusing their mental energy to stay on their feet. Xing Zheng emphasized that learning to push through fatigue could save their lives in a variety of situations. Apparently at some point during the second day, the morning of which were some of the last memories he could recall, they had passed out.
Pushing the thoughts aside, Fan Zhong tried to focus on the here and now instead of his teacher’s ‘light’ training. With a concentrated effort of will he pushed through that pain and finally rose to a sitting position. A large wet tongue greeted him and the excitement and worry in Little White’s eyes were palpable. Laughing he hugged the giant wolf’s neck, realizing that his companion now made even the comparison to a horse rather inaccurate.
During his time in the Sect, the spirit beast had mostly hunted in the forest on his own as well as receiving instruction from their resident immortal. They had seen each other enough however, riding on the beast king’s back gave a whole new perspective on how large Little White had gotten. Combine all of that with the fact that his companion normally stayed cub-sized during their stay at the sect and it was easy to see how Fan Zhong was taken aback by the beast king's full size.
Looking at his furry friend he realized that Little White was still walking forward while turning his neck to greet him. Also of note was a harness that seemed to be attached to something behind them. Looking back revealed a small wagon with some blankets within which lay Fan Yong.
On closer inspection, he realized that the wagon was encased in a thin film of water that ended at the side of the wheels. Shifting his head caused it to go in and out of focus and he was pretty sure that the vehicle would be almost invisible from a distance. Furthermore, the sound of the wheels was almost entirely muted causing it to be even harder to notice.
Meanwhile Little White happily trotted forward beside Xing Zheng who paced to his right, completely unaffected by the weight of the wagon or the strain from the water cloak.
“I see you're awake, have a nice nap?” The old swordsman’s voice carried a small hint of amusement as he spoke.
“Indeed, although perhaps it was not a nap since my memories recall being in a nightmare prior. Maybe this is just one long horrible dream, respectfully, of course, teacher.” Fan Zhong sent the immortal a withering gaze all the while his tone was sickly sweet.
“Oh? A nightmare you say? It seems I've been too easy on you, perhaps you would like to experience a real nightmare? Respectfully, of course, disciple.” Xing Zheng’s voice was jovial and calm as his eyes emitted a predatory light all the while his lips curved into the barest wolfish smile.
“Senior, Brother Zhong jumped into this hole himself. I for one am honored by your teachings and appreciate the ‘light’ curriculum.” Fan Yong said through a few winces as he rose and peered through the entrance of the wagon.
“See there, disciple? At least Junior Yong appreciates my benevolent teachings. However, you two should sleep some more. After all, there is far more training to do before we arrive in No Leaks Village.” At that, the older man’s wolfish smile broadened and Fan Zhong felt the air slightly quake.
After that, he felt nothing at all as a mental wave of fatigue overtook him sweeping into the familiar darkness of sleep.
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Light rays of the fading sun shone over the horizon as Fan Zhong stood at the top of a shallow hill within an open prairie. It had been almost two weeks since they had departed the Reclusive Mountain Sword Sect. Each day had been full of training that had pushed him to the brink physically.
While training with the sect disciples had been good for his technique and gauging his strength, nothing compared to Xing Zheng’s physical training. The old swordsman had said that if he was going to go around claiming to be his disciple Fan Zhong should at least have the body of a real martial artist. Although he disagreed about the definition of a ‘real’ martial artist, the immortal's standards honestly just seemed insane, the training spoke for itself.
Even with just two weeks of training his strikes felt faster, his mental energy stronger and his body sturdier. As he stood on top of the hill he felt calm watching the grass all around him sway with the gentle wind. Inside his mind the melody of his martial arts played slowly, beat by beat harmonizing with the beauty around him.
Then, in an instant, a discordant note played. His mortal treasure staff blurred in an arc. Three Shifting palms from mortal, heaven, and earth blurred across the clearing at the top of the hill. Around him the grass swayed in conflict with the natural order of the world, fighting for its own rhythm and purpose to be heard.
Drawing from deep inside of himself he could hear a low beat ring out. With a bang a small crater was left in front of him as his leg caught the spinning staff, bringing it down in a receiving palm. In a rush, the staff spun on the outside of his leg with a slight kick coming to rest in his hands in a void gate stance for just a moment.
Then the tempo increased, six shifting palms covering the six angles of attack from both the heaven and earth styles. Rising winds seemed to batter the order of the wind, kicking up a gale around Fan Zhong that sat defiant to the very order of nature. Inside of his own small, yet raging, portion of that grand song, he struck twice, from the left and right at chest left.
In the eye of his wind, the air seemed to seize and vibrate at the two origin palm strikes, covering two of the remaining nine angles of attack. Finally, all around him, the gale seemed to gather into a lance as the weight of the earth around him seemed to surge with Fan Zhong’s movements. For the briefest moment, it felt as if he had claimed a portion of the world from nature, claimed the very earth and heaven to condense at his whim.
This final Origin piercing palm struck outward right where an opponent's dantian would be, the last angle of attack. Following the path of that strike, the ground tore for over a meter, digging a shallow trough about as wide as his staff. Energy seemed to ebb from Fan Zhong as his adrenaline waned and calm returned to him.
Slowly, the wind of the world reclaimed that small territory from him allowing the natural order to be restored. However, the trough remained, evidence of his dominion and success. It was such a small thing when he saw Xing Zheng or even other master realm martial artists affect the world around them so much.
They felt as if they were in a different world, one that he would never reach. At this moment Fan Zhong felt as if he had touched that world and it awoke a hunger in him that he had never known existed. Like a man dying of thirst in the desert, his lips had touched water and now he needed to drink.
Before the clan’s downfall, he had done these exact same forms every morning for years. Once he had met Xing Zheng that had resumed; polishing techniques that had gone stale with misuse. Through all of that, each and every time he had hoped to achieve just this, master realm attainment in his self-made technique. Under the immortal’s instruction, he had learned that with the Fan clan techniques being so linked into a style; attainment in the other forms would help his ‘Origin Piercing Palm’.
Although he would have to check with the old swordsman he was certain that he had made a breakthrough. Now he had expert attainment in shifting palm, receiving palm, and origin palm techniques as well as his master attainment in origin piercing palm and the voidgate stance. For the first time in many years, it felt as if he were moving forward, his feet no longer firmly planted in the earth.
With a smile Fan Zhong started down the hill to their small camp, eager to take the next step in his journey toward the apex.