As the pair traveled deeper and deeper into the wilds, Sen had a dawning realization. All those times that Falling Leaf had disappeared into the wilds, she hadn’t just been avoiding humans or hunting. He was sure those had been the reasons some of the time, but she had clearly been executing some strategy of her own. Part of him shuddered at the thought of her out here, alone, looking like a human in what could only be described as hostile territory. That thought made Sen pause mentally. The wilds had always been hostile territory, even before he knew there was some kind of spirit beast ruler planning a war. However, the danger stemmed from the difference in advancement between the person, or transformed ghost panther, and the spirit beasts.
While Falling Leaf had lost some ground relative to Sen, her advancement had been substantial since leaving the mountain. Spirit beasts didn’t progress in stages the way that cultivators did, which made assessing her exact strength tricky. Still, he’d put her approximate strength somewhere in the upper-middle range of core formation. Spirit beasts also enjoyed strength, speed, and durability gains as they advanced. It wasn’t an improvement on the same level as body cultivation but dwarfed the physical benefits that pure spirit cultivators got from advancing. In short, Sen realized that he’d been drastically underestimating Falling Leaf’s power.
It was only in contrast to someone like him, or the nascent soul cultivators that seemed to flock around him, that Falling Leaf looked underpowered. There were spirit beasts deeper into the wilds that could pose legitimate threats to her, like that dragon they’d met, but probably not very many. This close to the road and human civilization, she probably was the peak predator in the area when she could be bothered with it. The sick feeling that had seized Sen at the thought of her traveling by herself in these untamed places loosened its grip. He didn’t feel entirely better. There was always the possibility of ambushes or being overwhelmed by numbers, but he could at least push away the fear that some random beast she couldn’t handle was going to pounce on her in an unwary moment.
Falling Leaf finally drew to a halt, having led Sen to a secluded little spot with a sizeable cave entrance in the side of a rocky hill that was almost large enough to qualify as a cliff. Sen observed the opening in the rock for several seconds before he turned a questioning eye to the ghost panther. If they were going in, he wanted to get on with it. If they were waiting for something, he wanted to know what it was. Instead of answering, she just held up a hand to indicate that he should be patient. Sen sighed. Patience wasn’t always his strongest suit. It was easy enough to be patient when he was doing alchemy or working on formations because waiting between steps was part of the process. He thought of those moments or hours as productive patience. He wasn’t just waiting. He was waiting with intention. Doing nothing while he hoped that something might eventually happen did not feel productive to him.
He resisted the urge to extend his spiritual sense. He’d been masking his presence this entire time to avoid drawing too much attention to himself. He wasn’t quite hiding, because he didn’t want to blind himself that much in this environment. Anyone who sensed him would likely mistake him for little more than a peak foundation formation cultivator. It was a technique he didn’t use that often because it invited trouble from sect cultivators looking to be fools, and he preferred not to have every journey he took turn into a bloodbath. Unfortunately, extending his spiritual sense would require dropping the masking technique and revealing his true strength. Better to save that in case something unfortunate happens, thought Sen. So, he did his best to marshal his patience and waited.
A few minutes later, he saw movement in the cave. At first, it was just a vaguely human shape in the darkness, but it slowly resolved itself into something decidedly inhuman. It vaguely reminded him of Boulder’s Shadow, the only other ghost panther Sen knew was alive. It was a big creature that seemed caught somewhere between a true spirit beast and a full-blown human transformation like Falling Leaf. Where Boulder’s Shadow had a feline quality, this creature was lupine. It still had some of the elongated snout and the sharp ears. As it drew closer, Sen saw that white fur covered every inch of the creature, or almost every inch. It wore a loose loincloth. Sen briefly wondered why but was mostly just grateful to be spared the sight of the creature’s manhood. He assumed it was male at any rate. It had the heavier build that Sen associated with men. When it stepped out of the cave, it gave a respectful nod to Falling Leaf. Then it turned yellow eyes on Sen.
“Falling Leaf, why have you brought this weak creature before me?”
Sen saw the corners of Falling Leaf’s lips twitch as she suppressed a smile. Oh, thought Sen. She did this on purpose. She could have let me in on the plan, whatever the plan is. Before the ghost panther could answer, Sen felt a swell of qi from the wolf spirit beast. It didn’t coalesce into a traditional qi attack but rather took the form of something akin to Sen’s own auric imposition. The aura descended on Sen, trying to hammer him to the ground, or maybe find purchase in some nonexistent crack in his defenses. He honestly wasn’t sure what the wolf meant to accomplish, and it didn’t matter in the end. The technique crashed into Sen and shattered like glass. The wolf staggered and turned an expression on him that Sen interpreted as a stunned. He wasn’t sure, though. Reading these partially transformed spirit beasts was more like guessing than knowing.
This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.
“Wind of Winter,” said Falling Leaf with a look of smug satisfaction on her face, “this is Lu Sen. Also known as—”
“The Blue Demon!” shouted the wolf.
“Really?” asked Sen as turned to look at Falling Leaf. “Did you tell him to call me that?”
The ghost panther smiled, clearly amused, but also shook her head.
“It’s no doing of mine,” she said. “Your reputation grows by the day.”
“Of all the names, though? That one? I miss the times when everyone called me Judgment’s Gale. That was just annoying. The Blue Demon sounds like something that intends to be insulting.”
“Perhaps you should be less frightening,” offered Falling Leaf.
The ghost panther appeared more entertained by the second, while the wolf looked like he just wanted to run away and hide.
“That wasn’t helpful,” said Sen.
“It wasn’t meant to be,” answered Falling Leaf.
“I knew I let you spend too much time with Laughing River.”
“Any time with him is too much time,” said the ghost panther.
Sen was generally of the same opinion, so he turned his attention back to the wolf. The formerly overbearing spirit beast shrank back a little from Sen’s focused attention.
“I assume you’re having us meet for more than your own amusement,” Sen said to Falling Leaf without looking away from the wolf.
“I am,” said the ghost panther. “Not every spirit beast is interested in joining the self-proclaimed Beast King. Much like my people, the ice wolves declined to submit. The results were similar.”
Winds of Winter shook his head.
“No. My people survived. Far, far in the north, there are still packs. They are small, well-hidden, but enough to rebuild someday,” he said before his voice descended into a more animalistic growl. “Yet, we crave vengeance as you do. Our leaders were killed. Packs fell by the score. The snows ran red with our blood. We would visit the same kindnesses on those who perpetrated these horrors.”
Sen felt his eyebrows draw together. He still wasn’t sure what this was all about. He didn’t think that the idea was for some spirit beasts to fight alongside them. It was a truly terrible notion. There was too high a likelihood of some kind of “accident” happening in which the nominally friendly spirit beasts were killed by overeager cultivators. If not that, though, then what?
“If you’re interested in killing other spirit beasts who follow the Beast King, I’m all for that,” said Sen. “I’m just not sure why we’re meeting. You don’t need my help for that.”
“There are many spirit beasts who found their races all but wiped from existence. They are angry, yearning for vengeance, but relatively few in number,” explained Falling Leaf. “They cannot hope to defeat the Beast King. Not alone. What they can do is travel in the wilds with far greater freedom than any human or cultivator.”
Sen finally understood.
“Spies,” said Sen. “They can provide us with information. Warn us about where spirit beast attacks are likely to happen. They help themselves by helping us weaken the Beast King and his horde.”
Falling Leaf nodded, seeming happy that Sen understood. It sounded great, on the surface at least, but there were a lot of potential problems. The biggest problem was the issue of trust. Feeding bad information to Sen, other cultivators, or the mortal human forces would be a ridiculously easy way to ensure that strength was concentrated somewhere other than the intended target. While this particular wolf might have a legitimate grudge, it was clear that he was just representing some kind of group. A group that might or might not have similar goals to Sen. A group he sincerely doubted had any intention of ever putting themselves in a position where he could reach them personally. A group that would also likely balk at being asked to make vows to the heavens to assure Sen of their good intentions.
On the other hand, there were very few cultivators who could safely navigate the deep wilds. Those with the necessary strength or stealth were few and far between. Beyond that, any human in the deep wilds would have to go completely unobserved. At the very first sighting, they would be hunted relentlessly if they got anywhere near the Beast King’s forces. Spirit beasts, even ones from largely extinct races, would draw less suspicion if they were seen. It wouldn’t be hazard-free by any stretch of the imagination. If the Beast King’s mind worked at all, he would have to realize that the survivors of any of his purges, and who knew how many of those had happened, would likely be looking for any way to strike back at him. If he was smart, he’d have left standing orders to kill any of those races that were found.
Oddly, that did alleviate some of Sen’s trust concerns. It was possible that there might be some turncoats in the mix, but probably fewer than Sen feared. Ultimately, he’d have to treat the information he got from the spirit beasts with the same suspicion that he treated information from any questionably reliable source. But even dubious information would be better than the complete lack of information he had available now. Questionable information could be, in theory, verified. He looked back and forth between Falling Leaf and Winds of Winter.
“Well,” he said, “how do you two see this working?”