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03: Agonist

As the days passed slowly, Daphne continued to look for the treasures hidden in their residence. The men seemed content to let her move about as she pleased, so long as she did not leave the house itself. Crooked Nose followed her like a dog as she flitted from room to room, his unconscious soul already acknowledging her as his master, which was only appropriate.

Daphne had not found their treasures yet, but success was not acquired without a measure of sweat—metaphorical, that is. Literal sweating was for peasants and sect initiates.

“What is it you’re even looking for?” Crooked Nose asked. “Nothing interesting ‘ere if you ask me.”

Open your eyes and see the truth for yourself! Daphne thought with scorn. “I’m just tidying up,” she lied as easily as she breathed.

“Please mistress, there’s no need to trouble yourself,” her maid pleaded, claiming the wooden duster Daphne had been using to check for traps.

“Oh very well,” Daphne said, surrendering it without much fuss. Her use for it was coming to an end anyway. So far, she had not found any statues to kowtow to, or hidden chests with false floors, or even a single book. If they had a hidden dimension, she’d not witnessed any of them access it. Perhaps these men were craftier than she thought? This might be a realm with many crouching tigers and hidden dragons if even lowly bandits practiced this much prudence!

When she was not sweeping through the house, Daphne worked on her cultivation. It was remarkably peaceful out in the woods with no one to distract her when she sat still for hours on end. Her qi sensitivity was still faint, but she could already tell the natural energies which surrounded this place were much stronger than the cold limestone and dead wood of her family’s castle. A few more days here would surely see her fully awaken her qi sense and she could begin condensing her qi. If her stay lasted that long, it would have made this deviation on her way to heaven worthwhile.

There was a soft knock on the door of the room that had been set aside for her. “Lady Daphne, you’re still awake?” her maid said, peeking inside. “The candle burns low.”

“It’s not that late,” Daphne said, letting one eye open to spy on said candle. It still had an hour’s measure of time in it at least!

“It’s nearing midnight.”

Daphne frowned as she stifled the urge to yawn. “Like I said, it’s not that late.” Even a lowly sect initiate was expected to be able to cultivate for hours on end, and once one finished cleansing their body by refining their qi in the foundation establishment stage, sleep was not even necessary! She rubbed her eyes and blinked a few times.

“You’re falling asleep where you sit,” her maid said, taking note of her lotus stance. A shame that there were no mulberry trees to sit under here.

“Just five more minutes,” Daphne said. What was five minutes to a one in a million genius like her? This should be well within her grasp as a disciple of the Elegant Swan Sect!

“If you fall asleep in this position, you’ll be sore in the morning, my lady,” the maid said. After a moment’s consideration, she added, “Proper sleep is a necessity or you’ll ruin your beauty.”

Ah, her maid was a crafty one to resort to such terrifying logic! Even for a genius like herself, it could take years before she broke past foundation establishment and left behind the impurities of form. Until then, she would have to take care of her body, lest she leave the world lesser and bereft of her beauty. Grudgingly, Daphne allowed herself to be helped onto a bed. It had a wooden frame with a mattress stuffed with straw instead of feathers. Her captors had not a bed to spare, nor the space for it, and so her maid slept on the floor at Daphne’s side with a bedding of hay, reeds, and rushes.

When morning rolled around, Daphne was treated to a peculiar sight. Only Crooked Nose sat at the dining table near the hearth to break his fast on a diet of rye bread, beer, and onions. Weasel, or Jared as he was called by the others, and the bandit leader were nowhere to be seen.

“Good news, my lady,” Crooked Nose said as she sat on the seat across him, but did not partake of any food. As she’d been informed, the honorable men and women of this realm ate only two meals at midday and in the evening. To break one’s fast so early was a sign of poverty, usually indicating a farmer or laborer who needed the energy to sustain their morning’s work or too weak to resist hunger for a short while.

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“Let’s hear it,” Daphne said.

“We’ve come to terms with your family over your ransom,” Crooked Nose said. “You’ll be free of us soon ‘nuff.”

Daphne waited for nine heartbeats—an important number matching the number of lakes in a sacred province the people of this realm had likely never heard of—before asking, “So what’s the good news?”

Crooked Nose tilted his head. “That is the good news?”

“How can that be good?” she demanded. She hadn’t even found any treasure yet! The heavens had not arranged this fortuitous encounter for Daphne only for her to return home empty-handed! “How soon?”

“A few hours at most,” Crooked Nose said.

There was only one thing to be done now.

Daphne stood. “Do you mind if I try on a few more rings while we wait?”

“Suit yourself,” he said with a shrug and returned to chewing his food.

Unlike before, Daphne picked out the rings carefully. Each one was studded with a hard gemstone, and when she finished slipping them onto her left hand, she rotated each one so that they faced her palm. “Be thankful that I, your granddaddy, am feeling merciful today,” Daphne said. “As long as you kowtow to this granddaddy a thousand times, leave behind your treasures, cut off an arm and a leg, and cripple your cultivation and manhood, then I just might deign to leave you with an arguably intact corpse after taking your doggy life.”

Crooked Nose kept on eating. Only when he had swallowed—good manners on his part—did he reply. “You’re a woman,” he said. “You’re also younger than me.”

What was with the people of this world focusing so much on such trivialities? How were they ever to grasp the immensity of heaven and earth while worrying about such things? “I do not have time to go into this, but a woman can be a granddaddy too,” Daphne said. “Show me where you’ve hidden your treasure, and I will not exterminate your family to the ninth relation!”

He quirked his brow at her, a befuddled grin spreading across his face. Crooked Nose stood, and stepped up to her. “‘Fraid I’m an orphan. No kids too. Besides, I don’t think you want to piss me off, little miss.”

“The word you’re looking for is antagonize,” Daphne said, examining the back of her hand one last time. “Do you know what that means?”

“No.”

“Antagonize comes from two words,” she explained. “The ant, an insect, and agonize derived from agony which means to suffer. When you have stood atop the heavens and looked down upon this earth, you will realize that antagonists are merely insects that suffer each time your boot comes crashing down.”

She stepped down hard, driving the sharp bite of her heel into his foot. His face twisted into a rictus of pain, his grin wiped away in an instant as he hunched forward—right into her curled right fist. Daphne punched as she’d been taught, envisioning her fist going through his face instead of at it. The man was lucky she’d yet condense her qi, or she would not need to content herself to just the satisfying crack of bone and fixing his nose.

He was not down yet, and were she to give him the chance to regain his bearings, his strength would surely surpass this untoned body of hers. Daphne did then what every arrogant young master and jade beauty knew to do practically from birth—she slapped him.

The inside of her left palm, lined with stones, drew long, red lines across his forehead and close to his eye. Crooked Nose—-though perhaps it was more appropriate to call him Broken Nose—howled in pain as blood leaked down his sunburnt cheeks and seeped into his eyes.

For good measure, she kicked him in the groin, and that was the last straw which broke him. “Tell me where your treasures are hidden,” Daphne asked again.

He moaned and groaned and gripped his crotch with both hands, as if that would spare him further pain. “Treasure?” Crooked Nose exclaimed. “You are looking for treasure here?”

“Yes, and be quick about it. I don’t have all day,” Daphne said.

“There is no treasure!” he screamed. “Not here!”

“So it does exist somewhere,” Daphne mused out loud.

“You’re insane.”

Daphne frowned at this foolish toad. She had issued threats, and a threat not acted on was no threat at all. Now, honor demanded she fulfill her word. She stomped on him with her heel once, twice, thrice for good measure, driving the spike of her shoe into his hands and what they feebly tried to cover.

“I did say I would exterminate your family to the ninth relation. You will be the last of your line,” Daphne said.

All this had occurred in the time it took to spark a light.

Her maid heard the commotion and rushed into the room from whatever it is that kidnapped maids did in the morning. She took one look at Broken Nose, before rushing over to Daphne. “What happened?”

“This junior dared defy me,” Daphne said, simple yet profound.

“My lady, your hand is hurt,” her maid said, gently holding up her right hand. The knuckles were sore and scraped. In the heat of the moment, Daphne had not realized, but with her dao heart no longer deviating, the pain was reasserting itself.

“Nevermind that!” Daphne said. “We have to find their treasure.”

“We have to bandage your hand,” her maid said. “It’ll scar if you don’t take care of it.

Ah, her maid was a crafty one to resort to such terrifying logic!