It might be a sign that the cynic in me is a little too strong, but the last thing I had expected was an actual brilliant mountain. I had assumed that the gang bedded down in piles of straw shaded by a pitiful dusty overhang of rock.

Instead, a sizeable protrusion of stone jutted out of the side of the escarpment. It might rightly be called a mountain by the standards of this area. The sun was just beginning to set. The dying rays of light were bouncing off of thousands of flecks of quartz-like rock baked into the mountain’s face.

I had abandoned my attempt to ride Swift. She was walking beside me, occasionally kicking dirt onto my already dust-stained pants. Lao Gen was prattling on about the gang’s various exploits. No doubt the majority of his tales were made up. If there had been a train robbery around here, I would have heard about it on my way down. The Emperor was also prone to taking those sorts of crimes seriously. Heavens help anybody who prevented the Emperor’s trains from running on time.

The Mountain leaned away from the edge of the escarpment creating a natural shady refuge from the heat of the day. As we approached, I saw a shoulder-high palisade. The walls were not maned by any guards, save for a single sentry. Presumably, the camp would rely on his alarm cry to make themselves ready for any attack. The presence of walls in the first place suggested that the band was under no real threat from cultivators of any strength. A cultivator could simply jump over any mundane wall. The best protection would be a set of boundary arrays. Most sects used boundary arrays to protect their territory.

Lao Gen leaned over to whisper in my ear conspiratorially, “Leader Wen is a jealous man. I do not know exactly how strong you are, but it would probably be best not to show off in front of him. I will do the talking. Leader Wen is not known to have the most fine-tuned senses when it comes to accessing the strength of other cultivators. If you want to make a powerplay best to bide your time.”

I looked at Lao Gen sideways through the smoke of my cigarette and replied, “You have a vivid imagination, old man.”

Lao Gen chuckled, “You can’t fool me, young man. Nobody of your strength lacks ambition. It’s just best if you leave any mutiny until you have a reputation.”

I remained silent as we approached the gates. Lao Gen would only become suspicious if I protested further. Out here leadership probably did change hands so easily. So far, the brilliant mountain gang did not seem to be comprised of ambitious men looking to move in on Asani. Perhaps this Leader Wen would be more cunning.

After a nod from Lao Gen, the sentry swung the gates open, and we entered. The mountain might be impressive, but the camp certainly was not. There were no buildings to be seen. The camp seemed to be solely comprised of stolen tents. Some of the shelters were nothing more than traps spread between wooden poles. The gang kept many horses on hand and their manure was collected into a few disparate piles.

The horses were not standard for most cultivator bands but at least half of the cultivators in the camp were only in the qi gathering stage. They would need them to keep up.

Swift tugged her reigns out of my hands and wandered off to socialize with the other horses. I let her go, she would be a distraction anyway.

Lao Gen led me to a particularly lavish tent. It must have belonged to a tribal leader in the past. The adolescent sect cultivator followed us. My military uniform must have been the only glimpse of civilization that the boy had seen in a while.

The interior of the tent was dim. A few gas lanterns were spotted around but they did not provide much illumination. Leader Wen was a man who had clearly once been a fierce warrior.

Now, he was a balding despot with a pot belly. He kept his cultivation on a low level of circulation. He most likely prized the intimidation factor it created among his low-level underlings. I placed his cultivation level as just breaking into the energy-focusing stage. That was impressive for a two-bit desert drop-out, but hardly a match for the Sun Gate Sect.

If this man was the most powerful cultivator in this group of reprobates, then Fan had deliberately sent me on a wild goose chase. The man had always been too subtle to fully trust.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Lao Gen,” rumbled leader Wen, “have you and the boy finally brought me something worthwhile?”

Lao Gen cringed a little before answering, “We have indeed, honourable leader. This man wishes to serve under your praiseworthy command.”

Wonderful, the man was not only a balding despot but a vain balding despot. I was tempted to just turn around and leave but it would be less of a hassle to just play along and then slip away when they were all drunk.

Leader Wen squinted at me. I felt the man bend the entirety of his meagre will towards accessing my power. He failed dismally.

He probably would not consider the possibility that a peak energy-focusing cultivator would make the effort to come out here. To allay his suspicions, I bowed deeply and said, “I would consider it a great kindness if you were to take me under your protection. I have served a dishonourable master before. In your gracious countenance, I see the strength of a true cultivator.”

The man practically preened at my absurd speech. I had just channelled what little I remembered of the Shakespeare play my middle school had put on. To no one's surprise, I had not made it through the auditions.

Leader Wen stroked his chin and chortled, “Well soldier. We do not have as many rules here as you might have been used to in the army. There is only one rule. Whatever we take, I chose from first. If any of my men disobey that rule…”

Leader Wen flexed his fingers and shattered the metal cup he had been drinking from. I winced and feigned fright. It was a petty display that even a qi gathering cultivator could achieve but I was not here to critique Leader Wen’s villainous credentials.

“Of course, Leader,” I said with another obsequies bow.

All of this forced humility would probably break the typical cultivators of this world. Face and a ‘straight back before the heavens’ were practically all they spoke about. I honestly did not care. Whatever honour I had was long gone.

“Good,” said Leader Wen, “Lao Gen I am charging you with guiding…”

“Sun Wei,” I offered.

“Sun Wei around our camp. Do not give him a tent. He will have to seize his own tent through combat as the rest of us have.”

Lao Gen guided me out of the tent bowing and scraping as he went. When we were beyond earshot he whistled, “I did not think a military man like you could get through all that. I thought you might kill him on the spot.”

Lao Gen could not hide the hint of anticipation in his voice. He at least was not content under Leader Wen’s reign.

I thumped him on the back and replied, “You are a bloodthirsty Old Man. I just want something to drink after my long trek. Do you have any agave around here or do I have to win that through battle as well?”

Lao Gen smiled and responded, “I will happily share whatever I have on hand. When the hunting party get back, I'm sure that they will have more to keep you content. If you promise to deal with that Wen sooner rather than later I'll even give up my share of today's haul.”

Lao Gen led me and the boy to a well-used and repaired tent. He laid out a bottle and three glasses. He filled a glass for me to the brim but only poured out a quarter glass for the boy. The boy was displeased but did not complain. I clinked my glass against the boy’s drink before downing the contents in one shot.

“what’s this kid's name?” I asked Lao Gen as he refilled my cup.

“We all just call him Twig. He claims a different lineage and title every time he tells the story of why he is down here.

Twig interjected, “I have told you many times Lao Gen I am Prince Wu of the now scattered kingdom of Han. One day I shall have my revenge against the usurper Emperor,”

Lao Gen tossed back his shot before burping and replying, “Ooh that’s a new one Twig. I thought you were the lost son of the Silk Sect. Ousted by your fiancé and half-brother.”

I let their voices drone on as I circumspectly manoeuvred the bottle out of Lao Gen’s hand. I took a swig directly from the bottle. I indulged in some vindictive self-affirming philosophy as I noted that I felt in no way inclined to bring this gang to justice. They were all criminals but there existed within me no cosmic call to bring this band to answer to the Emperor’s law.

This Dao nonsense was an absurdity. I was even starting to like this unlikely pair of bandits. The Sun had just completely set when my musings were interrupted by the sound of the gate opening and a trope of horsemen riding in.

Lao Gen slapped his knee and exclaimed, “Finally so entertainment for the evening. Sun Wei, I am a man of my word. I don’t get the first pick of the women, but I usually get the third turn after the leaders are done. I hope your time in the north did not sour you to the beauties of the sands.”

I glanced back at the gate and felt the universe mock my bravado. A group of bandits were bringing in a trail of freshly acquired spoils. My cultivation started to stutter as I saw the five young women tried to the backs of horses.

I sighed as I saw Leader Wen walking out to inspect the ‘goods’. I whispered to myself, “Why couldn’t these guys have waited until I left.”

I reached under my coat and cocked my pistol.