Lu spent the entire journey eastward tense and guarded, waiting for some monstrosity twice the size of the carriage to leap out and berate them for stealing its child. But it seemed that they weren’t entirely unlucky; the trip through the densest part of the wood attracted only a handful of large predators, which they were able to defeat or evade with only minor injuries – mainly from Stingy and Cobo, though Lan temporarily lost some fingers to a camouflaged wasp-like flying insect nobody could identify.
It was a shame that one had gotten away; it must have been in the core realms at least.
But for every beast they had to let go, there were a seemingly unending tide of them that all but leaped onto their swords. Lu ran out of space in his purse for meat, and had to start leaving the least valuable bits behind.
Then there were the herbs, which were mostly common finds one could buy by the barrel-full, and the more nebulous gains in combat experience. He duelled Cobo several times – as well as the others mostly just once each – and demonstrated his Secret to him for the first time.
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“That’s a good one,” Cobo said, a glint in his eye. With the dense canopy he could let his hood down and remove his eyewear, a freedom he seemed to be luxuriating in. “Good for fighting, I mean. You already have that tricky illusion crap, so a strong mental attack isn’t as useful.” He paused, then, seemingly debating something with himself. “You should know it doesn’t work as well the second time. On the same guy, I mean.”
Lu’s eyes narrowed. “Permanently?”
“Yeah. I mean, I’ve never seen it happen, but that’s what people say.” He snorted. “But yeah, it seems pretty good. Something to keep up your sleeve.”
It wasn’t until the next day, while cleaning sticky moth ichor from his sword, that Lu had thought to ask the obvious question. “So Cobo, do you have any Secrets of your own?”
The man smiled briefly, remaining silent.
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Ten days left.
Bull caught a catfish longer than Stingy, the beast bursting incongruously from a seemingly-shallow creek. Not to be outdone, Cobo returned hours later with an even larger fish – some sort of gar or pike, its elongated jaws thin and filled with small teeth.
The man was triumphant, his missing arm not seeming to bother him in the least.
Six days left.
The group spent most of the day hiding in the treetops, waiting for a massive cat – not a lion, tiger, or panther, but a simple overgrown housecat – to stop pawing at their camp. The thing was ninth realm and obviously beyond any of them; its introduction had been tearing Stingy cleanly in half. They only escaped, under the cover of illusion, because it was more interested in her still-twitching legs than the rest of them.
It was a potentially-necessary wake-up call, a sign that they’d been getting too lax with security after being near the top of the food chain for many days.
They moved camp, travelling slowly and methodically to avoid leaving even the slightest trail, going back south to where the beasts were slightly less terrifying.
Two days left.
After the cat scare, things went slower. Stingy, in particular, gave the forest more respect. As a consequence, there was more time for cultivation – and on the day before they would need to begin heading back, Lan broke into the fifth realm.
“Congratulations!” Everyone was gathered around, Even Bull and Cobo, who weren’t generally friendly with the man.
“Thank you, Lu.” Lan beamed, his smile without any reservation. “It’s been a long time coming, truth be told.” Jiendao leaned in to peck him on the lips, which he returned before drawing back, bashful.
There was a seed of resentment in Lu’s heart, the feeling that it was wrong for someone else to ascend first on his hunting trip, but he easily pushed it away. Lan was one of two friends he had amongst his own species, and he wasn’t going to taint that relationship with jealousy – and the emotion was simply unbecoming of a gentleman, besides.
“First time seeing the thing happen so close.” Cob leaned in, inspecting Lan’s face – or perhaps he was using his Comprehension. “Hard to see the difference. What’s it feel like?”
Another smile as the red faded from his cheeks. “Oh, it feels quite good, Sir Cobo. I’d almost forgotten how light one’s limbs feel afterwards, the ease of movement.”
They had something like a party, as much as it was possible in the small space ensconced under overlapping concealing arrays. There was no alcohol or other intoxicants to be had, but they roasted meat with fragrant spirit herbs and had what would be a ruinously expensive meal under any other circumstances.
Afterwards, Lu sat with a beast core in each hand. He was drawing only a trickle from each; at this point it wasn’t additional qi he needed, but only to put the finishing touches on his improved spiritual veins. I’ll probably break through to fourth realm the day after we get back… Ah, it would have been so much better if I had ascended at the same time as Lan; we could have partied twice as hard. The smile on his face was thin, but real. Or maybe not. But it would have felt like it. Bull would obviously celebrate with him, but having it so close together without touching was frustrating to his sense of narrative flow.
But putting that to the side… It’s gone as well as I could have hoped. Barring a little trauma from the bisection, everyone is whole and healthy, and we’ve got enough wealth that even split five- ah. The smile dimmed. Four, probably. Even split four ways, I’ll have enough cores to coast through fourth realm. It’ll just be down to how fast I can temper my mind.
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The final day of the hunting trip was something of a denouement, after the climax of that ridiculous housecat and Lan’s ascension. Nothing particularly notable happened; they killed some giant bugs, got some mid-tier cores, and spent most of the day roaming around, unsuccessfully looking for one last jackpot to end things off.
As the crimson-gold light of sunset filtered through the trees, Bull felt more at peace than he had in years – sixteen years, to be precise. This was the day things would end, and the day they would begin again.
And Tai could feel it, too. He knew from the way the other man sent him quick looks when eyes were turned away… It was almost nostalgic. At this last moment he allowed his heart to be free, to admit to himself that there would always be a tiny piece of him that belonged to Tai Sho and no-one else. I may have torn that part away from my chest, but an ember still smouldered.
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On any other day the thought would be painful, but not today. Today he leaned into it, basked in it, drinking it in before he would set it aside forever.
The moment came in the dead of night. The Salt pair were asleep and Lu was cultivating, the other two guarding the far side of camp.
He shot a look Tai’s way, and nodded. The man, beautiful even in his decay, nodded back. Almost as one, they stepped out into the forest-
Or at least, it would have been as one if a grip on Bull’s wrist hadn’t held him back. He looked over his shoulder.
“Lu.” His friend had a conflicted look on his face, as he often did when Tai Sho was involved. “Thinking to stop me?”
The man opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “No. Just… be careful. Please.”
The grip on his wrist disappeared, and a moment of understanding passed between them. Then, Bull lunged, gripping the taller man around the shoulders in a crushing hug.
“Ack! Bull, not so tight-!”
“I’ll be careful.” He released the sputtering Lu, his red face visible even in the gloom of night. “And thanks. And,” a smile, sharper than the ones he had felt on his face in days past. “Don’t try and butt in. This is something I’ve been building to for a long, long time.”
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Ar’rai didn’t exactly have clearings or meadows; the trees were too ubiquitous for that, the things sprouting up wherever even a trickle of light touched the ground – they were technically spiritual herbs in their own right, though not ones useful to humans. So the closest thing they would get to an arena was a large, flat-topped rock. It was covered with moss and dirt, but Tai took care of that with a gesture. Another spell, and the surface of the large stone smoothed out further.
“Wasting qi just before our fight, brother? Seems like a tactical mistake, but I suppose we’ll see.”
Tai’s smile turned just a hair more real. “Do you think so? I thought you’d appreciate something you can stomp around on without slipping.”
They both leaped up, onto opposite sides of the stone. It was even a roughly square shape; about as close to an arena as nature could have made.
“I suppose this is the part where you lay it all out, hm? Your sob story, the reason for it all?”
Tai Sho stilled. And then, for the first time in the last three weeks, the soft smile on his features drifted away. “No. Before Master died, maybe I…” The artificial perfection on his features went with his smile, revealing the bags under his eyes and the minor splotches of discolouration in his complexion. He was still, even now, the most beautiful person Bull had ever laid eyes on. “…No. Tai Sho was an insane man, who rejected reality. I’m afraid I’m all that’s left to grant you closure, Guanyin.”
Bull breathed in, and out. “Ha. You know, I had this whole speech thought up.” As he spoke, he cast. Apelike Strength, Earthly Bond, Cao’s Unbreakable Skin. “But it doesn’t feel appropriate now.” Serpent’s Renewal, Formation of Mountain-Like Might, Western King’s Breakthrough. “Let’s just get to it, shall we?”
A moment of stillness, followed by explosive motion. Somehow, he’s still faster than me. Their spirits collided before their bodies, cutting into each other and inflicting wounds before the first drop of blood was even spilled.
Bull came off the victor in that brief exchange; ravaged by his demon, Tai Sho’s soul was a spongy, indefensible thing, its realm advantage completely negated by internal strife.
But a moment later, as the battle turned increasingly physical, Bull was forced to cede ground. Tai came in with what looked like a two-finger nerve strike, but at the last possible second Bull noticed his form was off. He dodged the invisible sword, mostly, avoiding decapitation but taking a wound to the neck.
Gritting his teeth, he forced himself forward into melee where the long blade would be less of an advantage. He and his opponent blurred in a dance of movement arts – if Tai had been at full power, he would have had a clear advantage. But under the hands of his demon, his spellwork was a fraction slower, his movements just a hair’s width off from the well-oiled perfection expected of a core disciple. Slowly, painfully, Bull began to take the upper hand.
It was an excruciating way to fight; neither of them could spare the time to build up a killing blow, so they were forced to grind against each other with sheer endurance and martial arts. They moved, exchanged blows, then healed to repeat the clash again and again. Only his massively overmuscled body, bolstered by overlapping enhancements, allowed Bull to overcome Tai’s speed and realm-granted grace. He did not win every exchange, but as the minutes bled away and their makeshift arena was painted increasingly red, he won enough of them.
They broke apart after a particularly vicious meeting of fist and blade. Bull had enough qi left to feed into Serpent’s Renewal, the deep wound in his side clotting and closing, while Tai Sho continued to stand with broken ribs.
“Out of qi, Tai?” Thanks, various jackasses of Salt, for teaching me I needed to learn a proper healing art.
The man’s face spasmed. “I…” All at once, the fight went out of him. His sword became visible as it slipped from his hands, air passing through his teeth in a snarl of pain. “I won’t…” His eyes dimmed.
And then, they reignited. Bull felt threads of golden light pulse out, cutting into his sense as he hurriedly withdrew it. “I won’t!” Tai Sho’s voice was a ragged thing, filled with longing and rage. “I reject this! I reject everything!”
His sword flew forward across the ground, and Bull jumped only to take a punch to the face. His nose gave, and they broke apart again as Tai Sho leapt away to avoid his retaliatory eye-gouge. There you are, Tai. I would be disappointed if I didn't get to fight the real you.
“I reject this world! These rules, guiding us like puppets!”
He blurred, some core realm movement art Bull had never seen before turning him into a stretched-out smear of colours. A stream of fire issued from what looked like several different points, and Bull hurriedly blocked – only for the real one to slip through, his qi wasted on illusions.
Divinations, he thought, backpedalling. Movement arts, elemental arts – where did he get this qi from?
Then Tai Sho struck him again, his arms snaking out to spear into Bull's armpits, numbing everything from the shoulder down. “You’re burning your dantian?!”
It was the only possible explanation. Tai remained strong, but less so than a moment before – less than half, even.
The no-longer-core-realm disciple screamed out in wordless defiance, and the battle intensified. Despite their realm equalising, Bull found himself taking far more serious wounds than before – if fighting the Heart Demon had been a dance, then this was closer to two wild animals tearing into each other.
His Path moved with him like his own shadow, blotting out the pain, smoothing away the fatigue in his muscles with heat and determination. This is how it was always going to be. But you have always been the beast in your heart, while he has left his to grow weak and emaciated. Return the pain he has given you, twofold.
Finally, the end drew near. Tai retreated, his spirit pulsing, gushing out its lifeblood but still strong enough to win – holding on to the cliff’s edge with its teeth. Bull could see it with his eyes, the moment he decided to go for the kill.
They moved, both of them bursting forward. A sword of light and heat coalesced in Tai’s hands, while darkness like smoke wreathed Bull’s fist.
Bull’s smile was sharp, wanton, unrelenting. For all that Tai Sho was the one using divinations, he wasn’t the one to see through his opponent’s movements; Bull dodged right, deliberately allowing the sword of qi to pierce him through the heart as he warded its steel brother – still controlled by Dancing Blade – away with his free hand. His fist buried itself in Tai’s stomach, just below the ribs.
A sound unlike any other, the distinctive whump of air rushing to fill a vacuum. Tai, his sword still buried in Bull’s chest, slid forward as he lost the ability to brace himself against the ground.
His mouth moved. There was no air flowing through his throat to make sound with, but Bull could read his lips. “You were supposed to break them. Break the iron bars, and prove them wrong.”
He lost his grip, and fell. Bull looked down at the face of his first love for the last time.
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In a play, a constructed story where everything was simple and the hero got his happy ending, Tai Sho would have died cleanly. Even in the goriest of productions, with illusions simulating violence for the audience’s disgusted enjoyment, his head would have burst like a ripe melon with a single, final punch.
But as Lu sat with his back to the tree, putting as much focus as he could muster into maintaining the illusions blocking the sound of battle from reaching out into the dark forest, he couldn’t help but count the blows.
Five times Bull struck Tai Sho in the face, each one just slightly wetter than the last. Only on the sixth hit did his skull finally give, the sound unmistakable even without accompanying visual. Lu felt his gorge rise, and forced it back down to focus on the spell.
Minutes passed in silence, even the night insects seeming to understand what had occurred.
Then, Bull walked past his tree. Their eyes met, and the man smiled.
It wasn’t the bloodthirsty grin he wore sometimes, or the more wild expression he had in battle. It was… peaceful, in a way that harmonized with his bloodied body.
“…Bull?”
The smile widened. Bull’s voice was tired, but satisfied. “People who say revenge isn’t worth it are idiots.” He gestured towards the camp with his chin, then began to walk.
A moment later, Lu followed.
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The next day, the group of six began heading back towards the sect.