Boooom!!

An ungodly noise echoed through the mountainous forest, reverberating off the cliffs and weaving through the trees. A moment later, a massive three-meter-thick tree groaned and collapsed, its trunk blasted apart by a Honda Civic-sized hole.

“Haha! I love this thing!” Jin Shu shouted, though his ears were still ringing from the deafening report of the sniper rifle. He grinned but let out a resigned sigh. “I just wish the Silence Rune had worked… Then again, the noise might be useful for surprising and disorienting enemies.”

“You may need to inscribe the bullets with the Silence Rune for it to be effective," Nano chimed in.

“Yeah, I figured as much,” Jin Shu muttered. “Still, that’s going to take a lot of work…”

He heaved another sigh as the rifle in his hands began to glow softly, vanishing in an instant. In its place appeared a pink-and-black Glock 19, which he turned over in his hands thoughtfully.

His shoulders sagged as he remembered the circumstances of its creation. While crafting the pistol, Yin’er had hurt herself, and he’d left the weapon in the forge to go help her. By the time he returned, one side of the gun had been scorched black. With the last of his rose gold, he’d made adjustments, carving his mother’s name—Sun Mei'er—into the blackened side and inlaying it with the precious metal. He hadn’t had enough material to reforge it entirely, so he’d done the best he could.

As his mind wandered, Yin’er darted through the foliage of distant trees before landing lightly on his shoulder. “Daddy, no more loud noises?” she asked, her tone tinged with a not so subtle hint of boredom.

Jin Shu snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of her voice. “No, there’s going to be one more. Go back, I don’t want you hurting your ears, okay?”

“Boo! Stinky Daddy!” she cried out, puffing up her cheeks in mock anger. Still, she flew off, flitting through the trees. On her way, she spotted a horned squirrel and immediately started a scuffle with it.

Jin Shu chuckled as he watched her chase the poor creature through the underbrush. “Don’t go too far,” he called out, concern creeping into his voice.

She glanced back at him but gave no response, neither agreeing nor refusing to stay close. He shook his head, a wry smile forming on his lips. He wasn’t too worried, though—he could sense her location through the bond they shared.

For now, he let her be. Shifting his focus back to the task at hand, Jin Shu glanced down at the pistol in his hand. He had come here to test the weapons he’d forged weeks ago.

He raised the gun, his mother’s future gift, and prepared to test it. Aiming down the sights, he took a deep breath, letting the rustling of the wind through the trees guide him. The cool breeze brushed against his skin, the earthly scents from the forest relaxing his body as he noted the direction the winds carried them, adjusting his aim accordingly.

Exhaling slowly, he squeezed the trigger.

Bang!

The pistol recoiled in his grip as the bullet shot forward. A soft thunk followed, marking its impact against a nearby tree trunk. Unlike the sniper rifle, there was no earth-shaking boom or oversized hole. Those effects were the result of the runes he’d painstakingly inscribed into the larger weapon.

For now, his mother’s gun had no runes. He was waiting until he could master more advanced inscriptions. Weapons could only support so many runes before the strain caused them to break, and this pistol needed to last. He wanted it to be perfect—he’d already botched the forging process once. He couldn’t afford to make another mistake with the runes.

Just as he prepared to test the weapons further, a piercing scream carried on the wind reached his ears. Dread gripped his heart, and his first thought was Yin’er. But as he focused on their connection, relief swept over him. She was safe and in the opposite direction of the scream.

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Still, he tugged at their bond to call her back. He couldn’t send her thoughts, but he could push emotions and subtly manipulate the thread that linked them.

Moments later, Yin’er appeared, darting through the trees. She came flying toward him, a squirming squirrel clamped tightly in her jaw.

“Whaf’s wwong?” she mumbled through the struggling animal.

Jin Shu stifled a laugh. “Let the squirrel go first.”

Her furry face scrunched up in reluctance, but after a moment of contemplation, she spat the squirrel out. The poor creature scrambled off, chittering angrily as it disappeared into the foliage.

“What?” she huffed, irritation clear in her tone as her little whiskers twitched in annoyance.

Jin Shu almost laughed again but managed to keep his composure. “There was screaming—something bad might’ve happened nearby.” His tone grew serious as he explained the situation.

Aah!!

Another scream pierced the air, this one much closer.

“Wait… I think I recognize that voice…” Jin Shu murmured, his brow furrowing. He couldn’t place it yet, but something about the scream felt familiar.

“Based on speech recognition, that is the voice of your mother’s disciple, Fan Biyu,” Nano informed him.

“What? Are you sure?”

“99% certain.”

“Shit! Let’s go!” Jin Shu barked, taking off in the direction of the scream.

Yin’er fluttered after him, her small wings beating frantically. If it really was Fan Biyu, that meant his mother couldn’t be far. And judging by the desperation in her voice, Fan Biyu was in serious trouble.

As Jin Shu sprinted through the forest, weaving between trees and vaulting over rocks and tangled roots, memories of the last time he’d run through these woods surfaced. “It can’t be a Winged Tiger,” he thought. Surely, a beast like that wouldn’t push Fan Biyu to scream so desperately.

He refused to believe it. He’d seen her training with his mother. He’d even sparred with her once. Fan Biyu’s cultivation was leagues above his, and her combat techniques were, at the very least, on par with his own.

The memory of their sparring session flashed through his mind—her hands igniting with a vivid red fire as she struck his chest with a blazing palm. If she hadn’t held back at the last moment, he might still be recovering from the injuries. Just the thought of it sent a shiver racing down his spine.

Shaking the memory from his head, he pressed onward. The forest suddenly thinned, giving way to a clearing. There, three men stood over the prone form of a young woman. Her face was obscured, but Jin Shu’s gut twisted. Fan Biyu.

He crouched at the edge of the clearing, his breathing steadying as he focused on the men’s conversation.

“Hehehe! We’ve finally caught you, pretty little lady. You really gave us a run for our money, didn’t you?” sneered the man on the right, his voice dripping with malice.

“You didn’t actually think you could get away, did you?” mocked the one on the left, grinning cruelly.

The man in the middle leaned forward, his voice low and twisted with glee. “Now that we’ve caught you, we can return in time to enjoy both master and disciple. Ahahaha!”

Boom!!

A deafening crack shattered the tension as the middle man’s head erupted in a spray of blood and brain matter. His body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

Jin Shu lowered the sniper rifle, as the bullet continued traveling, shattering a few trees in the distance, his breathing still calm as the remaining two men froze, drenched in the gore of their companion. His mind had been composed, focused on assessing the situation. But when they mentioned his mother, he snapped. Killing the man had brought him a flicker of calm, but he wasn’t done. If he’d started killing, he might as well finish the job—after getting some answers.

In a blink, the sniper rifle vanished, replaced by an M17 pistol in his hand.

The two surviving men, still stunned, hadn’t even registered what had happened before Jin Shu fired.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Four shots rang out in rapid succession. The bullets tore into the men’s knees with precision, shattering bone and cartilage. They collapsed to the ground with strangled screams, writhing in pain as they clutched at their ruined legs.

Jin Shu stepped into the clearing, the faint smell of gunpowder mingling with the metallic tang of blood in the air. His voice was cold as ice. “Time to talk.” He spat the words out through his grit teeth.