Sal, the senior disciple in charge of the resource gathering for the Crashing Wave Otter sect, was not happy. He had sent a dozen cultivators to deal with Eric Badi, and none had returned.

So far the only reliable information about what had happened was coming from Mayor Jeffries. According to him, the disciples had picked a fight with the man who was treating Eric’s injuries.

Unfortunately for all involved, except perhaps Eric, the man turned out to be a hidden master known as the Jade Fox. Apparently this Jade Fox character had sliced Sal’s men into ribbons for daring to attack someone under his care.

Sal rubbed his temples then reached for some papers to write on. He was going to have to cancel the vendetta against Eric Badi. If he was under the care of a hidden master, there was no point in sending more disciples to their deaths.

He hesitated as inspiration struck him. Sal had been focusing on what went wrong, ignoring the massive opportunity that had just fallen into his lap. With Eric Badi now powerless, and no longer a member of the Rock Mountain Mollusk sect, his position with Lord Grasa was now up for grabs.

Rumor had it that tensions had been rising between the lord and the sect elders. If Sal could drive a wedge between them, it would greatly diminish the sect’s power and influence in the lowlands.

The senior disciple began to hum happily as he wrote out the letter.

***

Zane was pleased to see that the newest member of their crew had managed to integrate without killing anyone, or being turned into kibble. He had mostly been worried about Daisy and Dumpling, but those fears turned out to be unfounded.

Since Eric had lost his powers, the spirit beasts no longer considered him to be a threat. And like any good cultists, the psychotic duo welcomed anyone who was willing to serve their master.

The former cultivator had been skittish at first, but he quickly fell into a routine. There were so many wonders and weird things going on in Zane's restaurant that it was easy to get overwhelmed to the point of becoming numb.

Zane found that he didn't actually dislike Eric. The man was noble, decently level headed, and loved food. The rogue cultivator still held a bit of a grudge against him for hurting Daisy and Dumpling. But even Zane had to admit that had been done in self defense.

Eric seemed to believe that the spirit beasts had attacked him to protect Lily, which was only partially true. Mostly they had tried to kill him because he had committed the crime of putting hands on the Awakener.

The rogue cultivator was unsure about Eric's loyalty. On the one hand, Zane was his only chance at having his powers restored. On the other hand, it wasn't too far-fetched to imagine that he would hold a grudge after what had happened.

Granted, beating the crap out of one another was fairly common among cultivators. It wasn't unheard of for stronger disciples to “share pointers” with the less powerful members, sometimes with fatal results. Violence, and even murder, were common ways for cultivators to get ahead, or acquire resources.

The first time he killed someone, Zane had worried that something was broken inside of him. His lack of reaction, combined with his eagerness to acquire more experience, had felt surreal. He knew that most people would have collapsed into tears, or at least had nightmares. But Zane slept like a baby.

When he fought, it was as natural as breathing. Killing was simply the fight coming to its natural conclusion. He didn't shy away from it, or draw any particular joy from it. Violence was a means to an end, no more, no less.

Though Zane had to admit, he enjoyed fighting against a superior opponent. Pushing his limits made him feel alive. Racing along the razor thin line between failure and success got his blood pumping in ways that nothing else could.

Most of the higher level cultivators seemed to feel the same way. Climbing the mountain was how they progressed and challenged themselves. The peaks, and the temples within them, called to the cultivators like beacons.

The rogue cultivator thought that the urge to progress would be enough to keep Eric in check, but there was another factor to consider. Zane had associated with all kinds of unsavory people when he was growing up. Some of that could be blamed on his underprivileged upbringing, but the vast majority was because of his poor judgment.

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Zane could remember a former pimp who had explained once about how he kept his “herd” in check. When the gray-haired pimp was in a good mood, he liked to share his various trade secrets. Horrible as they were, Zane had listened.

The rogue cultivator wasn't actually stupid. He was impulsive, inattentive, and had questionable morals. But he was smarter than he let on. If someone was going to give him information for free, he would shut up and learn from them. (Assuming it was interesting enough to hold his attention.)

The old pimp had explained that in addition to having a second in command who kept an eye on things, he employed a tactic of harming then healing. He would beat a worker for misbehaving, then draw them a bath and treat their wounds. In the end they were so grateful for the help that they forgot he was the one responsible for their misery.

The idea of it made Zane’s skin crawl. Hurting someone then healing them to win their loyalty was evil. But he couldn't help but see how it applied to his situation with Eric. If he found a way to fix the man’s core, there was a strong chance that he would remain loyal.

Of course, that would require doing something nearly impossible. Restoring a broken core to full function was a task that even sect elders would have a hard time with. Granted, he had already done some work on his own core. Albeit, with sometimes lethal results.

The way Zane saw it there were three options. He could attempt to fix the problem, teach Eric how to patch things up on his own, or seek guidance from someone more competent. Either way, the rogue cultivator had decided to wait at least a week before starting. He wanted to see how the former cultivator settled in before attempting to give his powers back.

Besides, it was nice having someone else around that enjoyed food as much as he did. Eric seemed to have a bottomless desire for knowledge, especially when Zane mentioned that he was an outsider. The prospect of tasting recipes from another world had sparked intense interest from the large man.

Unfortunately, Eric also had the annoying habit of asking questions that Zane didn't want to answer. He wanted to know everything about the rogue cultivator, and wasn't deterred by Zane's usual technique of deflecting or playing dumb.

The sect elders were equally tight fisted when it came to giving out answers, so the former cultivator was used to having to dig for information. Lily was less blatant, but had done some digging of her own.

She knew that Zane had some connection with the gods, and that he probably couldn't die. But she also lacked specifics. The former disciple was doing fairly well as their primary order taker while Pinky was out of commission.

The kitsune was slowly regaining control over her transformations, but it was still unpredictable. Sometimes her tail would randomly appear, or her teeth would elongate and grow mid conversation. Stress or agitation seemed to trigger it, which was why they were keeping her far away from any customers. Zane was just as likely to set her off, but for entirely different reasons.

Pinky had gone somewhat feral after her killing spree at the camp. The kitsune’s animalistic nature was gnawing at her humanity, telling her it was time to drop the facade and return home. Or rather, to do what it took to become strong enough to complete the journey.

Since the mountain fog made it impossible for low level creatures to survive, spirit beasts often came down to lower altitudes in the spring to give birth. Then, when their young were strong enough to resist the fog, they returned.

Some creatures were able to construct special dens that kept the fog out, or take over ruined temples that served a similar purpose. They didn't need to descend to the foot of the mountain to raise their young.

Kitsunes, on the other hand, were more like cuckoo birds. They replaced the offspring of a spirit beast or human with one of their pups. Then, once the pup was old enough, they devoured their host family and returned home.

Pinky felt a mix of ancestral memory and animal instinct driving her, telling her to do whatever it took to return home. Killing always made it worse. But in time it would diminish, becoming less of an overpowering urge and more of a nagging desire.

Unfortunately, Zane smelled like candy to her on account of his altered core. She wanted to devour him, draining the young man of his essence to fuel her journey up the mountain. Pinky had kept her animalistic urges in check thus far, but it was far from easy.

The kitsune wasn't so far gone that she couldn't tell who her friends were. Pinky also knew that consuming Zane, or someone else in his stead, would push her down a path that she didn't want. Ironically, her ancestral memory was part of why she refused to give in. It had warned her of the consequences.

As with all things, there had to be a balance between the two extremes. Giving in fully to her bestial nature would make the kitsune stronger in the short term, but she would never be able to advance past it. Likewise, playing human would slow her advancement, but keep her mind intact.

Pinky knew that the ideal path lay somewhere in the middle. She needed to be strong, but smart. To kill when needed, and be merciful when it wasn't.

A soft knock on the door announced Zane's presence, shaking Pinky from her introspection. He had a tray with some juice and assorted snacks.

“I thought you might be hungry,” the young man said.

Pinky smiled, pulling him in close for a kiss. “You're so sweet.”

Zane returned her smile. “I do what I can. Are you feeling any better?”

“Yeah,” Pinky said as she dragged her man into bed, “I think I am.”