Ray ducked and rolled to a side instinctively. The beast glided past him.

Ray calmed down. Even if he didn’t have weapons and cultivation techniques, he was a cultivator now. He had strength to defend himself.

He crouched and prepared for the next attack of the beast. The leopard turned and grunted in dissatisfaction for failing to deal a lethal blow to him. It began circling again, looking for a chance to pounce on him.

Ray observed his foe carefully. Its front paws were much longer than his: if they both threw a punch he would be hitting air while it could crush his head. If he had to deal a blow, he had to get close to it. Closer than the safe distance.

If he had to deal with it, he had to immobilize the beast’s front paws first.

Ray picked up a wooden splinter and ran at it. The beast paused for a beat, seemingly taken aback by his charge. The next moment, it threw its claw at him. Ray expected it. His left hand went up to defend his head and his right nailed the splinter into the beasts arm slightly below its paw, between the two sturdy bones.

Ray was thrown aside. His arm felt numb but he fared far better than his foe who was grunting in pain, limping.

Unlike the tigers, who used both arms to fight, lions and leopards used one arm: the dominant arm. And now the leopard’s dominant arm was injured.

Ray rubbed his numb arm and eyed his foe. The beast growled at him, this time more menacing than ever. If he had been only a food before, he was an object of revenge now. It was set on killing him at any cost, Ray knew it. He didn’t intend to back down either.

The series of exchanges greatly boosted his confidence.

He charged at his foe, and the beast lunged at him. Both exchanged several blows. With each blow, the leopard’s breathing grew haggard while Ray got excited. His moments became fluid.

The beast threw its good claw at him. Ray gracefully swirled on his feet. He warded off the claw his left hand and his right elbow dealt a severe blow to the beast’s lower jaw.

Followed by an audible crunch, the beast was thrown to a side. The leopard whimpered and limped away. Ray laughed. Fighting felt good. He had no intention to chase it. Though he could kill it, he didn’t want it to become his first kill. He already had an idle goal.

Thinking of that person, his eyes became glacial.

Behind him, the leaves rustled and from the shadows, Eiran and his guards emerged. “What happened here, brother Geisha?”

“I don’t know. When I came to check it, I was interfered by a beast.” Ray knew his cultivation caused quite a disturbance. And he was glad he didn’t foolishly begin his cultivation in the pagoda.

“A stupid beast held the assassin apprentice for so long?” Eiran cocked an eyebrow in disdain. Then he turned to the hunch-backed old man beside him. “What do you think grandpa? Is it a treasure or some reclusive cultivator?”

Grandpa Clyde shook his head. “ I don’t think it’s a treasure. It’s most likely a beast’s bloodline awakening or a technique cultivated by an expert at least at Spirit Gestating Realm.”

Eiran face grew heavy at the implication. “If an expert has come to this shit-heap of an island, he must have some purpose.” His face scrunched up all over. “It’s most likely the map we’re looking for.”

Grandpa Clyde nodded. “Young master, we should leave. If the expert knew we’re here for the same treasure he is looking for…”

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

‘We’re dead meat’ the words left unsaid.

Eiran clenched his fists and flew away. The rest of the guards followed him, leaving Ray alone.

Ray was at dismay. He, an expert at Spirit Gestating Realm? Isn’t your imagination a bit too wild?

He smiled at this happy mistake. Now, Eiran would leave this island for sure. And the islanders were safe from his proverbial maws.

He shook his head. Sometimes being too smart wasn’t a good thing.

On his way back, he got familiar with his strength. He estimated he had about seven hundred stones of strength typical for any Spirit Opening Realm cultivator. He was amazed that his thin frame could hold that much strength.

This was the power of chi.

*****

Ray reclined in a plushy chair inside the tent far away from the noises of the Mirantel City, savoring the taste of the warm herbal tea. The tea was particularly delicious for a herbal brew with an almost impossible blend of thick spiciness with the sweetness of honey.

Then, there was a knock followed by a servant’s voice. “Milord, the person you’ve asked is here.”

The guards at the entryway looked at him for orders. Ray just nodded and waved his hand. They opened the door and walked out. Then, he walked in. The person he chose for his first kill.

With a bent spine, bowed head, bunched shoulders, he looked unusually docile than what Ray knew of him. Both his hands twined loosely in front of his chest in servitude. He sported a silk robe which was considered luxurious for the island folks just to not to be an eyesore to Geisha. On his lips played a flattering smile.

The Kein in front of him was vastly different from the arrogant, cheeky Kein Ray knew of. Prideless and spineless.

“You look as grand as always, Your Grace.” Kein bowed low. “Did I prove myself to be useful?”

“That I do.” Ray nodded. “About the information, I checked up on that Ray brat you’ve spoken of, but I didn’t find anything. I came to know you didn’t get along with that brat. Did you, perhaps, use my hand to deal with him?”

Kein froze and began shivering about the implication. He fell to his knees. “Milord, even if I had the balls of steel, I never dare to deceive you.”

“Oh, then are you accusing me of my inability to check up that brat?”

“I don’t dare, Milord. I-I am saying… that Milord is kind-hearted.”

Calling an assassin kind-hearted… Ray was speechless.

“So, you tell me what should I do then,” said Ray.

“Milord, I think we should torture him.”

“But doing that would alert Eiran. He’d stop me from going after others. If that Ray brat doesn’t have that map, I’d be losing my chance to go after anyone else.”

“Worry not, Milord. I’m certain that he has it.”

Ray cocked his head. “What makes you so sure?”

Kein paused for a good while. “The day before you’ve arrived, I saw Dada giving a scroll to Ray. I’m sure it was the map you’re looking, Milord.”

He followed us!

Nonetheless, Ray maintained his composure. He was prepared for this meeting. “And you’re telling me this now?”

“Forgive me, Milord.” Kein Knocked his forehead against the ground.

“Your contributions are great, so I’ll forgive you this once. Come. Drink this brew.” Ray nodded at the brew filled cup on the table.

Kein reached the cup cautiously.

“Tell me, Kein, do you not feel any remorse for betraying the one that had raised you from your childhood?”

Kein’s hands froze.

“You were an orphan who would’ve begged on the streets if not for Dada. And yet, here you are. Giving away the one thing that Dada gave up his life for. Don’t you feel ashamed?”

Kein looked up at him for the first time. At his eyes which were burning with killing intent. “Y-You are…”

He whirled on his butt to run away. But Ray seized the scuff of his neck and leaned forward to meet Kein’s eyes.

Kein’s pupils shook wildly in panic. “M-Milord…”

“Am I? Look at me closely, Kein.”

Ray took off his mask and revealed his face. Kein’s pupils shrank into needles. “How… how could you…”

“I got lucky,” Ray said, pressing the sharp edge against Kein’s throat.

“Ray… let me go. I-I just wanted to live. Please. I want to live.”

“Yet, I want you dead.” Saying that Ray drove the knife into his throat.

Blood splashed and flowed along with the knife, to his hands, to his arms. From there to the ground.

Kein gurgled. His hands went up to claw Ray’s hands. He flailed his limbs to get free from Ray’s grip. Too bad for Kein that Ray was a cultivator now.

Ray moved the knife around, cutting through the tendons and hard bones until he cut Kein’s head off.

Kein’s head rolled on the ground and his body weltered in his own blood until it went cold. Somehow, even when his head rolled away, Kein’s eyes seemed to fixed on Ray with hatred.

Running to a corner, Ray threw up.

Throughout the process, Ray had been suppressing nausea that stirred his stomach. There had been many times he wished to take his knife back. But he persisted.

The world was a cruel place. It had no place for kindness, hesitation. To survive, he had to be decisive. He should not show mercy to his enemies.

Ray clapped and his guards stormed in. “Clean up this place. Threw his body to the hounds in the kennel. That damned mutt actually threw up in my place. Also, send me his head in a box.”

Then he walked out with a weird sense of accomplishment.

Today, he got his first kill. He became a man.