As the smoke cleared, Jin could see the group of men who were talking. There were six of them, and they looked just a little older than he was - perhaps in their mid-twenties. If they were cultivators, it would be possible that they were far older, and retained their youthful looks due to the refinement of their bodies, like Master Xinya, who had been, to the best of Jin's knowledge, in her sixties, but looked no older than the young prisoners Jin was sent to train with. There was nothing to suggest that these people were cultivators, however. They weren't wearing the robes Jin had come to associate with the cultivation world, or the armor of clan soldiers, but were dressed in clothing Jin had only seen in books - the clothing worn by merchants or other ordinary people, who were almost never cultivators. They had weapons, too, three of them had old looking machetes, one had a bow on his back, and the other two had swords, but they were regular, distinctly non-magical weapons. The kind Jin had used for training when he was first practicing a new skill, because they weren't fit to harm his reforged body.
"Let us pass and I won't hurt you," Jin said, as his horse continued to buck under him.
If the men were in any way confused at how Jin was managing to stay calm and in a good riding posture while the bolthoof moved like this, they didn't show it, though it should have been an early sign for them that this was no ordinary young man.
"Ha! Why would we do that! There have been free bolthoof horses coming out of that forest all night, and we went to a lot of trouble to catch some. Seems you did the same, but that horse isn't rightfully yours any more than it is ours. There are more of us, so we'll be taking it from you," said one of the men with the swords.
"The livery on this horse shows that it belongs to the Shi clan. That means it belongs to me. You can keep the others, as long as you treat them well, because I only need this one, but once again, if you continue to hold me up on my journey I will have to use force..."
"What are you to the Shi clan? A servant? Some distant cousin of the direct line they send out on a horse to run their errands? They won't miss you. Seems to me something went on in the forest that took out a lot of Shi clan men, and if you really are one of them, well, you should just be happy you kept your life, rather than trying to get yourself killed over a horse," one of the men with the machetes replied, his hand on his weapon's handle.
Jin realized he wasn't going to get anywhere with these men. He was only trying to reason with them for their own safety. He could understand perfectly well why some young men who didn't have bolthoof horses would want to catch the animals, and he didn't really care about Shi clan property going to somebody else. He certainly wasn't used to thinking of himself as being connected with the clan yet, although he was more than ready to accept he had a right to this horse. It was probably better for the other horses to have someone take care of them, than for them to just run around wild. They were domesticated, and wouldn't know how to find food themselves. Plus, despite their incredible speed, they got tired quickly, and could easily become prey to stronger beasts. If some enterprising people caught them and sold them to people who'd use them well, then Jin didn't care. But this horse was his, and rightfully so, and he needed it to get to the Boundless Sun sect, so he'd have no choice but to fight to keep it. And he knew that even against six armed men, the strength and training he had would mean that they would pay dearly for insisting on engaging him.
It was with no real joy then, that he whipped his feet up out of the stirrups and landed two sharp kicks to the faces of the men on either side of his horse - two of the machete wielders, who hadn't spoken yet - before jumping up acrobatically to stand on top of the horse's saddle, still having no difficulty with balance despite the animal's continued, agitated movement.
The impact of Jin's hard feet, combined with the impressive precision of the kicks, in spite of the position he'd been in when he struck and the fact he'd kicked with both legs at once, sent the two men shooting back to fall to the ground with angry, pained groans. They clutched their faces, unable to speak, as blood ran from the sides of their mouths. Their jaws were shattered.
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"I didn't want to do that, but I really need to keep my horse. You should be able to heal those two guys. Now, will you please just let me pass?"
The man with the bow backed away, though it was hard to say whether he was retreating, or just trying to get into better range to shoot at Jin. Jin didn't care - his body was, after all, as hard as a sword, and his reflexes were impeccable. He could dodge an arrow, or he could withstand one hitting him, if there was nothing magical about it and it came from a regular man like this. The two men with the swords and the machete wielder who had argued with Jin, however, remained where they were - just out of reach of a kick.
Why won't they give up? Is it honestly worth injuries of this kind just to save face? They must see they have no hope of beating me, and if they're not cultivators, they probably don't have access to the kind of healing pills I get to use when I'm wounded. A broken bone for these men would take months to heal without pills or cultivation techniques... Why won't they just fuck off and let me pass?
"You bastard! That was just a lucky shot. Now we're going to make you pay. How about if I wound your horse? Then you'll have no choice but to stay here and take your punishment. It'll take me a while to get her back to full health once you're dead, but since she's going to be my horse anyway, seems like I can do what I like to her."
The man drew his machete and moved as though he was going to slash at the horse's flank. Rage flared up inside Jin - a mixture of anger that this person would sooner hurt the horse he wanted than admit defeat, and frustration that these people were too stupid to understand that they were outmatched. Kicking two of his group into submission hadn't worked, and he could not allow his horse to be wounded.
Not being cultivators, the men didn't really perceive the furious intent coming from Jin now, seeing it only as the anger of a threatened man. But in a fraction of a second, Jin had tapped the Interspatial Ring and taken into his hands the butterfly swords. An ordinary man was nothing against the slicing power of a magical tier weapon, wielded by a cultivator high in the levels of corporeal conditioning, especially when that cultivator was Jin, who had been reforged in body, mind and soul, and was effectively a living weapon himself. The sword in Jin's right hand came down on top of the man's head as he moved closer to hack with his machete, and it cut through his skull like it was made of butter.
The other two men close to the horse recoiled in horror, and the smell of the blood made the bolthoof even more agitated.
Jin had killed someone for the first time. He regretted that the man had left him with no better choice, but besides that, he felt no guilt. If he'd only wounded him, the others would have kept coming - it was clear that these people were not smart, and were too proud to back down, no matter how many of their friends they saw badly beaten. Killing one of them was the fastest way to end this, and avoid his horse sustaining damage.
The two men backed away, and with the help of the man with the bow, they helped up the other two with the broken jaws. Jin watched coldly as they left, leaving the body of their comrade at the feet of his horse. The group disappeared behind some rocks, and shortly after, four bolthoof horses raced from the area there. Presumably the men were riding them in some configuration, but Jin didn't care, he just hoped it would be the last he saw of them.
He got off of the horse for a moment, ignoring the dead body, and tried to soothe her a little. It had been a frightening experience for her, and he wanted her to be calm before they set off again. Besides, if he took some time here, at least he'd be less likely to catch up with the other men again somewhere along the road. Realizing she was bothered by the smell of the man's pooling blood, he lead her by the reins for a little while, at a normal, human walking pace. Soon, there was a small lake, off to the left of the road, and he decided to lead her there and see if she wanted to drink. He thought it might be a good opportunity to rest quietly himself, too, and decided that he might even like to bathe in the lake, to feel cleaner, and to experience what a lake felt like for the first time.
But as he drew closer, he realized that he wasn't the only person around, or the only one who had had the idea that this lake might be a good place to relax.