A man walked through the woods. Clad in rough robes, with no hint of qi or cultivation, he held an axe over his shoulder. A beard clung to his chin, and his hair flew wild around his face, untamed. Mud streaked his legs where his feet kicked it up, and worn shoes and bramble-pricked clothes spoke to a long time slogging through the forest in search of the perfect log. He whistled to himself as he walked, unaware of the cultivators fighting far overhead and away toward the mountain. By a mortal’s senses, their battle cries and flashing lights quickly became the rumble of a distant storm.
He whistled to himself as he walked, content to take it slow. Even so, his eyes cut left and right, searching for a predator that might decide to make a snack of him. The forests were never safe. Although these were relatively barren, some held demons, dangerous beasts where even a rabbit could kill a man. Mortals who took less care often took fewer breaths, as demons, or even ordinary wolves, severed their short lives.
As he walked, he threw a small orb in one hand. Up, catch. Up, catch. The black orb, about the size of his thumbnail and perfectly polished, provided a contrast to the man’s rugged appearance. He peered at it again, then tossed it once more.
Stakes tied with red thread appeared ahead of him. He altered his feet, turning toward them, and sped up. Almost done.
From behind the tree, an elegant man in blue stepped forth. He smiled gently at the hunter. Everything about his demeanor exuded harmlessness, even vulnerability. His shoulders sloped slightly, and he cast his eyes aside rather than look directly at the hunter. “Humble one greets you.”
The hunter flinched back. His hand clenched around the orb, and he hid it in his pouch with a deft, practiced movement.
He looks harmless, but even a rabbit can kill a man, provided it’s a demon.
Raising his axe, the hunter pointed it at the man. “Who are you?”
“No one, no one. Just a passersby,” the man said demurely.
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The hunter looked him up and down. Perfectly clean robes in brilliant blue, long straight hair untouched by brambles, delicate pale skin unscuffed by hard work. He narrowed his eyes. “You don’t look like no one to me.”
The man in blue waved his hand. “No, no. Ah, it just so happens that you have something that belongs to me. Would you hand it over?”
Backing away from the man in blue, the hunter turned his body protectively. “I found it. It’s mine.”
“I’m willing to pay you for it,” Hui offered, reaching to his hip. He paused as his hand touched nothing. Oh right. I don’t have any… wait! Fei Guren’s loot! Turning aside, he pretended to reach into a pouch as he accessed the storage ring Bai Xue had handed him, and pulled out a few gold. “Please. Anything you require, I can acquire it for you.”
The hunter narrowed his eyes. “It’s that valuable?”
“No. In fact, it’s not valuable at all,” Hui said, shaking his head. He looked closely at the hunter, his brow furrowing faintly. This… it’s almost the ‘peasant found a valuable cultivation material and doesn’t know what they’re doing with it’ scene that shows up a lot in my novels, but… why would he bring it to the teleportation formation? “Whoever told you to bring it here, whatever they offered you, I’m willing to offer twice that.”
“Told me? I’m just a hunter,” the hunter returned.
Something pinged in Hui’s mind. He looked at the hunter again. “If you’re a hunter, why are you carrying an axe?”
“Huh? In case I need to make a shelter,” the hunter said. He swung the axe. “Cut down a tree.”
“How did you get this far out here with only an axe, and no bow or weapon to hunt? We’re miles and miles from a mortal settlement,” Hui argued. Subtly, he prepared to activate his barrier, while drawing the void attack talisman on the air behind him with his other hand.
“How did you get out here in those nice robes, huh?” the hunter returned.
“You know how. Because you aren’t a mortal. You’re a cultivator in disguise!” Hui shouted, throwing his hand out to release the void attack. There’s so many contradictions to this situation. A mortal out this far alone, with only an axe, in day clothes, without a backpack or any visible way to secure food, not even a water bottle. He just happens to have something strange on him that feels ever so faintly like my children’s qi signatures—so faintly I could only sense it from this close, even at seventh stage with my divine sense active, and he’s headed toward a teleportation formation? There’s no way he’s actually a mortal. No way!
The waves slammed into the hunter. His body vibrated apart, torn into chunks. Blood and viscera splattered over the trees around them.
Hui stood there, hand still out, a wave-patterned mess of red and green stretching from his hand to paint the forest around him. He licked his lips.
Er… or… he was… mortal?