ã€ŠNether Lord Sagaã€‹


 Chapter 1: Unexpected Turn of Events

    Hanging Vines crackled with excitement: laughters barked, tankards hammered against the tables, drinks spilled. It was a party thrown by the Bald Brutes indeed. They had a thing for flashiness.

    Even to this bustling inn, Ray had a mind to bring a book. He couldn¡¯t read it though, thanks to Crov, the good old crow, who started torturing crowd with his singing. Crov¡¯s voice was a scrape of rusty copper plates. Nobody could muster some peace of mind once the old crow got into the mood of singing. Even Ray couldn¡¯t.

    Throwing a resentful glance at the old foggy, he begrudgingly put down the book on the table.

    ¡°Reading hard as always, huh?¡± asked a voice from behind. Ray didn¡¯t need to turn back. He knew Kein came to fleer at him.

    Kein circled in front of him with his shaved head shining like a moon under the chandelier, showing off the goblet in his hand as if it were a city worth. Ray cast a flat gaze at him and said nothing.

    ¡°Aye, the booze is heavenly. No wonder many are willing to die for it. Want a sip?¡± He sat across from him, uninvited. ¡°Oh, sorry. I forgot you can¡¯t taste it yet. You haven¡¯t become a man yet.¡±

    Ray felt the stab, but he didn¡¯t have a comeback for that.

    One wasn¡¯t called a man until he made his first kill. Kein had his first kill ereyesterday and became a man before Ray could, which he would boast for the rest of his life for sure.

    ¡°It is only a matter of time before I make my first kill,¡± Ray said, straightening his spine, trying his best to look assured.

    ¡°Oh, is it? Are you sure you can make a kill with that sickly body of yours? You should look for the oldies with a half foot in the grave, perhaps. Or feeble women.¡±

    Ray fought down a flinch. If Kein came to poke his sore spot, he wouldn¡¯t let him know he succeeded.

    ¡°Act tough all you want, bookworm. The brain alone won¡¯t carry you to a higher position; you need brawn to back it up. Dada will soon realize that. When that time comes, I¡¯ll see if he still favors you then,¡± Kein sneered and walked away, stirring his goblet.

    Those words hung over Ray like a guillotine. Ray couldn¡¯t shake it off. It was only a matter of time it gets untethered.

    His sixteenth birthday was drawing closer, and so was his spirit awakening day. Anyone else would¡¯ve longed for that day, but not Ray. For he knew that his spirit had already awakened. And he despaired at the fact that he couldn¡¯t communicate with it. Without his spirit¡¯s assistance, he couldn¡¯t cultivate.

    Given the special care Dada had shown, many of the Bald Brutes had high expectations for him. If they knew about his condition, they¡¯d give him a cold shoulder. Without cultivation, he was no good for anyone. Pity and compassion weren¡¯t things in the business of gangs. Only the abled was valued here.

    But not Dada.

    Then, he felt a firm hand on his shoulder. ¡°Where¡¯s your mind wandering off, kiddo?¡±

    His head whipped up to see the bald man guzzling the booze in a tankard big as his torso. Runnels of the booze trickled down into the forest of a bushy beard. When he was done with it, he sat down, smashing the tankard against the table. Ray felt the tremors the table sent as it rattled.

    ¡°Dada,¡± Ray smiled.

    ¡°Aye, damn these tiny things,¡± Dada cursed as he adjusted to the chair wobbling. ¡°Didn¡¯t we tell Gondu to make them big last time? If they gave away in front of outsiders, I¡¯ll be embarrassed to death.¡±

    Ray stifled a chuckle. ¡°Well, he did have them made larger. But nothing is quite big enough for you.¡±

    ¡°Cheeky boy, want some spanking?¡± Dada pinched his ear.

    Ray pulled a face and begged for mercy. But he wasn¡¯t lying though. Dada was as big as a bear. Customary designs weren¡¯t meant for him.

    ¡°Hmph, cut your acting. Were you studying about spirit nurturing?¡± Dada nodded at the book on the table.

    All the smiles left Ray. He dipped his face.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    ¡°Oh, come on! There are all kinds of weird things in this world. Heaven is fair to all. There must be a solution to your problem. Just keep on looking. Even if you can¡¯t find the solution in this saint forsaken island, you can go out and search in other places. The world is vast.¡±

    ¡°But¡­ but my sixteenth birthday is upon me. Everybody will expect me to awaken my spirit. We both know that¡¯s not going to happen¡­ then¡­ then¡­¡±

    ¡°Then what? They¡¯ll throw you out? No such thing will happen on my watch. I¡¯m the leader of the Bald Brutes and I shall decide who stays and who leaves.¡±

    ¡°But¡ª¡±

    ¡°No buts! If the sky falls, your Dada is here to hold it for you. Now, let¡¯s go out. My ears are ringing.¡± He threw a pained look at the old man Crov, who was croaking in a bid to sing a breathless line of the song ¡®I Saw the Sun¡¯.

    ¡°That is your favorite song,¡± Ray remarked.

    ¡°Not anymore.¡±

    Dada and Ray wove their way out of the inn through the maze of tables.

    Hanging Vines was built on the edge of the island, over a big bedrock that floated. They sat at the lip of it, their feet dangling. The setting sun died the sky in pleasant orange. The dimly lit moon was ready to sneak out of the clouds.

    Ray closed his eyes for a moment. The roaring of the sea suppressed his inner turmoil. A cool breeze blew through them, tickling the roots of his grey hair.

    Taking a deep breath, he asked Dada, ¡°What is your dream, Dada?¡±

    ¡°My dream?¡± Dada paused. He laid back on a damp rock and gazed at the glittering stars. ¡°Well, up until now, I had it too easy to pine for something. But if I¡¯ve to say, I¡¯d like to form a gang and roam around the world. Do some adventures of sorts. And see the sun.¡±

    I Saw the Sun was indeed Dada¡¯s favorite song. Even his dream sounded like its rip off.

    ¡°You already have a gang, haven¡¯t you? Then why would it be a dream?¡± Ray was puzzled.

    ¡°Gang? You mean Bald Brutes?¡± Dada barked a laugh. ¡°This flimsy mob is no gang. A real gang is a group of people who trust others with their lives. They¡¯re friends. Companions. Protectors, even.¡±

    Trusting others with their lives?! That sounded so stupid to Ray. Even a thumb-sucking child on the island knew trust and such things were pure fantasy.

    ¡°What is your dream, Ray?¡± Dada asked.

    Ray wished he could say some grand things, but he couldn¡¯t. He sighed ruefully. ¡°With a nightmare greeting me every day, I can¡¯t afford to dream.¡±

    ¡°Urgh, you¡¯re going at it again! I told you it¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not so sure Dada. Everyone is supposed to awaken their spirits on their sixteenth birthday. Then why did mine had awakened as early as four years ago? And worse yet, why can¡¯t I communicate with my own fucking spirit?¡±

    ¡°Because you¡¯re exceptional Ray. You know how you ended up with me in this damnable island? You aren¡¯t native of this island. You descended from the sky. You hear me? You descended, Ray, blazing like a meteor. That¡¯s how you came to the island. Don¡¯t compare yourself with those louts. You¡¯re different from them.¡±

    Ray had lost his memories before twelve. Ever since he could remember, this island Gintura was his world. Dada was his godfather.

    Dada told this story many times. But his sickly body and unresponsive spirit told him otherwise.

    ¡°Cheeky boy, you got so big that you doubt your Dada, huh? Fine.¡± Dada whisked out a scroll. ¡°There¡¯s a grotto marked on this map. You might find a solution in that cave. But be warned: unless you don¡¯t have any other choice, don¡¯t step in there.¡±

    Ray was perplexed. He took a good long look at the scroll. Would this scroll have the key to his problem that had been gnawing at him?

    Skeptically, he took it and secured it inside his vest.

    Dada stretched his body. ¡°Well then, I¡¯ll be get going. Need to jot down some things for the alliance with Blood Teeth Gang.¡±

    Ray cocked an eyebrow. ¡°Are you sure about this Dada? Now that the Mad Hounds had gone down, it leaves only our two gangs on Gintura Isle. We¡¯re bound to be at each others¡¯ throats. At such a sensitive moment, making an alliance with them makes no sense.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s them that proposed alliance, not us.¡±

    ¡°Which is exactly why this is fishy,¡± Ray stressed.

    ¡°Look, Ray, when we can have peace, we should have it. Mad Hounds, as they went down, did a number on the island. Let''s not fester it. Anyway, don¡¯t bother about the affairs that are beyond you,¡± said Dada as he walked away.

    Ray didn¡¯t share the same view. Dada saw the need for peace, but Blood Teeth might not. They might see a chance to drive a silent knife in the back of their long-standing opponent.

    Ray shook his head. As Dada said, these things were beyond him. He sprang up to his feet and made his way home.

    His home was a stilted hut that leaned against an oak tree. It was small and squarish, light with the wood it was made of. One wouldn¡¯t call it grand, but it was good enough for him.

    Unlatching the door, he went in. A feathered bed lay at a side. Opposite to the bed sat a black-stoned hearth.

    He fed a log to the hearth and hung his robes to a hook at a corner. Taking a deep breath, he stood in front of the mirror. He wasn¡¯t there to look at his scrawny body, sharp contours of his face, the sparkling blue eyes or the wavy grey hair that crowned his head.

    Instead, he turned around and saw his back in the mirror. Under the flickering lamplight, he saw ¡ª on his back ¡ª a dragon was facing off against a turtle. They hissed and spat at each other. They were dark as night.

    And they were his spirits. Though they were two entities, somehow they felt like one and the same.

    Typically, a spirit manifested itself behind its bearer in the air. In the later stages, as one cultivated, it could be injected into the body.

    But Ray never cultivated. And there was never a precedent that a spirit would appear on the skin like a tattoo. Neither was there ever a spirit its wielder couldn¡¯t communicate.

    All these abnormalities unnerved him.

    Massaging his temples, he collapsed into his bed. The hut swung along the branches of the oak tree, like a cradle. Sleep embraced him right away ¡ª all the worrying had taken its toll on him. And soon, he found himself in a familiar dream.

    There were no colors to his dream. Only darkness. He could make out silhouettes that cursed: ¡®Demon¡¯. And then there was a silhouette that snuggled in his embrace, crying, clutching him tightly. The silhouette called him: ¡®Brother¡¯.

    He felt warmth and pain at the call. He wished to summon the sun and see the person that could light up his heart even in such darkness. Other than Dada, only this silhouette made him feel like family.

    He took into the warmth of the call, ignoring the silhouettes that were shouting, ¡®Demon¡¯. All his worries went away. Even as he slept, a smile bloomed on his face.

    A day could be longer, but a night could never be. Ray cursed Zelard under his breath as he roused him from his sweet sleep, hammering his door like a mad boar.

    ¡°RAY!¡± Zelard screamed atop of his lungs. Something about his tone sat oddly with Ray. He took a distinct note of anxiety and agony in his call.

    Ray stirred on his bed. ¡°What is it, you dullard?¡±

    ¡°Ray, wake up!¡± He suddenly broke into sobbing. ¡°Dada¡­ he¡­¡±

    Ray shot up to his feet and went for the door at once. ¡°What happened to Dada?¡±

    ¡°Ray!¡± Zelard squeezed him in his arms. ¡°Dada¡­ he¡­ he¡¯s dead.¡±

 Chapter 2: Grief-stricken

    Mirantel city of Gintura Isle ¡ª also the only city on the island ¡ª was usually thick with pedestrians in the early morning. Its narrow roads echoed with the rowdy din of street vendors who were trying to outshout the others to attract customers. Women went out in a bid to barter for rice grains and flour, and often meat for a better price while men were out to do the breadwinning.

    But today, the gravel-roads were desolate. No street vendors. No pedestrians.

    The populace gathered in the center of the city and watched the impossible thing made, horror-struck.

    Once the bastion of the Bald Brutes, and easily the tallest and grandest of all the buildings in Gintura Isle, the Edinghan Castle was razed to the ground. Its iron capped rampart was now a rubble of tiny black stones. And the castle, itself, was somehow turned into a bloody-grey sand mound. Severed limbs and heads ¡ª bald heads ¡ª jutted out of the mound here and there.

    Blood runnelled down like streams in the mountain. The hot coppery tang of blood hung thickly in the air.

    Atop the mound, two youngsters were chatting casually around a golden table. The white-robed youngster, with his gentle smile and carefree gestures, seemed a lot friendlier than the grumpy red-robed youngster who didn¡¯t talk at all other than nodding and shaking his head.

    However, their friendly chat over a mound of corpses was quite disturbing.

    At their feet, lay a headless corpse. Scarred and charred. One didn¡¯t need to look at the body twice to recognize it was the leader of the Bald Brutes, Dada.

    Around the rubble of the rampart, a group of men, wearing red armors that bore a black pagoda mark, stood on guard.

    Natives crowded around the area, shocked, dismayed, and terrified. This had been too sudden for them. The Bald Brutes were one of the behemoths of the island. And now, without a sound, they were felled.

    The world froze, save for the two youngsters. Birds didn¡¯t chirp. Fleas didn¡¯t buzz about.

    Then, they came.

    Members of the bald brutes, who were lucky enough to survive the calamity, stormed into the scene. When they approached the guards, they swung their weapons at them furiously. Guards didn¡¯t even lift a finger. They just stood there. When the Bald Brutes¡¯ attacks came near them, a formless barrier conjured in front of them. It spat their attacks back at them. The bald brutes were blasted away.

    They got to their feet and charged again, this time more power packed in their strike. But they got blasted away again.

    Now it was Blad Brutes¡¯ turn to dismay. However, they charged relentlessly with rage. But it was futile. They couldn¡¯t even put a notch in the barrier. With time, they bled their strength in dribs and drabs. Some of them began to teeter.

    Just then, the white-robed youngster stood up and lifted a hand. ¡°You guys, stop bullying them. Where have your virtues gone?¡± He turned to the Bald Brutes. ¡°You can stop now. I can understand your pain, but you must know I too had no choice here. Your leader had a thing I wanted, and he refused to give it to me. Truly, I had no choice.¡±

    He paused for a moment to let his words sink in. Then he looked at the headless corpse and shook his head. ¡°Unfortunately, he didn¡¯t have it on him. He must¡¯ve stashed it somewhere. It¡¯s a weathered scroll. A map. I¡¯m sure even if you don¡¯t have it, one of you must at least know about it. If you can bring it to me, I¡¯ll reward that person handsomely. You can ask anyone that knows about me. They¡¯ll tell you how generous I am. Of course, if you don¡¯t¡­¡± He smiled and nodded at the mound of corpses beneath him.

    ¡°I¡¯ll stay here until next fortnight.¡±

    A pair of wings sprang out behind him, and he flew away, leaving the crowd awestruck. And then the red-robed teenager stood up and walked away with the rest of the guards on his heels.

    Once they left, the Bald Brutes rushed to the mound of corpses and grieved.

    *****

    Over the mound of corpses, Ray trembled when he touched Dada. He used to be so warm and fluffy. But now he was cold as ice and stiff as a log.

    The warmth was gone. Dada¡¯s smile was gone. He was gone.Stolen novel; please report.

    It never occurred to him that Dada would leave him. Dada had promised to hold the sky for him. Now the sky fell, but Dada wasn¡¯t here to hold it.

    Despair and sense of loss overwhelmed him. His heartbeats became feeble. His lungs strained for air.

    How could this happen? Why did it happen? Don¡¯t leave me, Dada. DADA!

    He opened his mouth. ¡°Da... da... da...¡±

    He couldn¡¯t overcome the dryness in his throat. His eyes rolled back into his head. He gasped hard.

    Then he felt a slap on the back of his head. He grew still. The world around him blurred. The last thing he saw was Crov lifting him, bundling him up in his weathered arms, and carry him away.

    *****

    Crov braced himself in a corner of the cave, holding a thick cane. He felt reassured at its weight. His eyes were bleary from all the sleepless nights. But he didn¡¯t dare to avert his eyes from Raenard who was sleeping soundly on a bear hide.

    Just then, Raenard stirred. Crov jumped in fright, holding the cane up in the air to strike at any time.

    Raenard¡¯s brows scrunched up. ¡°Dada¡­ don¡¯t leave me. Come back¡­¡±

    His grey hair turned black. Tendrils of black smoke rose from his body.

    ¡°All saints and their mothers,¡± Crov cursed and strike hard on Raenard¡¯s head. Among the many bumps that bulged out of his head, a new one arose.

    Raenard fell back into sleep. His hair regained its color. Black tendrils receded into his body.

    Crov heaved a sigh of relief and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.

    He hadn¡¯t expected such a weak-looking, scholarly brat would be so spooky when he became unhinged. The dark tendrils had given him a good scare.

    He regretted his decision. He should¡¯ve left this brat with the rest there. Unfortunately, his sympathy got the best of him. Now he was paying for it.

    As an oddball of the Bald brutes, he felt a connection to this other oddball who was weirdly fond of books ¡ª though this little guy didn¡¯t seem to reflect any such fondness to him.

    Being a great singer, he hated the fact he got stuck here with these hillbillies who couldn¡¯t appreciate his heavenly voice. He was too good for them.

    He wished to achieve great things in his life, to amass a crowd of intelligible fans who knows the worth of his voice. Too bad he realized his talent a tad too late. As of now, he was one hundred and eighty summers old. If all goes well, he would live for twenty summers more. But he was already worn out.

    He found the need to nurture this young oddball so that he won¡¯t turn out like him. And hence, he brought him to his secret den, where he often came to sing as he wished. And when the cave echoed his song back, he relished as his song poured into his ears like honey.

    He brought Raenard here with a sense of responsibility that many old fogies had. But he had no idea how it turned out like this.

    Days passed. Crov started to wonder if he was going to die one of these days. He hadn¡¯t slept. Outside the cave, the world grew dangerous for the members of the Bald Brutes.

    Each day, some of the Bald Brutes went missing. Crov knew this was no coincidence. He was afraid for his dear life. He went out in the dead of night to get some food and booze, and slunk back before the sun shined his first ray of light.

    Inside, he was hosting a spooky bastard. Outside, those outsiders were on the hunt for the Bald Brutes. Life became a hellhole.

    Raenard stirred on the bear hide then. Crov ran for his cane. If not for the fear of unleashing that dark thing inside Raenard, he would¡¯ve beaten him to death a long ago and be done with it.

    When he was going to strike Raenard, the accursed brat held out a hand. ¡°I¡¯m fine!¡±

    He was conscious! Crov froze. A sudden pang of panic assaulted him. He had been beating the crap out of this kid whenever he grew conscious for the last four days. Would he seek revenge? Would he unleash that dark thing on him?

    The cane fell down. He started to shift nervously on his feet. ¡°Raena ¡ª no, young master Raenard, how¡¯s your health?¡±

    Raenard cocked his head. ¡°Still alive. If I take two or three more of your beatings, I won¡¯t be.¡± His hands went up to the bumps and started massaging them.

    Crov shook all over. He fell to his knees and banged his forehead to the ground. ¡°Forgive me, young master Raenard. Your mental condition has been bad. I was worried for you. I had no choice but to put you to rest.¡±

    Raenard came to lift him by shoulders, worriedly. ¡°Grandpa, why are you kneeling? And you can call me Ray.¡±

    Crov was relieved. Yet, he insisted, ¡°But I¡¯ve beaten you up, young¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine, really. And I have you to thank for taking care of me all this while.¡± He bowed.

    Crov heaved a sigh of relief. He nodded. ¡°Good then.¡±

    ¡°Erm, grandpa, how long I¡¯ve been knocked out for? And where are we?¡± Raenard asked, looking around the cave.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been sleeping here for four days. Outside, it got dangerous for the Bald Brutes so I had to bring you to my secret place. Rest assured, nobody knows of this place. We can be safe here. Wait until those damnable outlanders leave the island, we can go back to our normal lives.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry to cause all that trouble, Grandpa.¡± Raenard dipped his face in shame. ¡°But what happened to the Bald Brutes? And Dada, was his body was already cremated?¡±

    Crov was at a loss of words. How do I explain it to him?

    After mulling over it for a while, he decided to speak the truth. He couldn¡¯t keep Raenard from the reality for far longer anyway.

    ¡°After I brought you out of there, Eiran Leopold¡¯s guards came and confiscated Dada¡¯s body. Only after he got the map would he let us have Dada¡¯s body. And as for the Bald Brutes, many of the Bald Brutes went missing. Without a doubt, they were seized by Eiran¡¯s guards. To torture the truth out of them, I assume¡±

    ¡°Eiran Leopold? The guy that killed Dada?¡± Raenard cocked his eyebrow in displeasure at the note of respect in Crov¡¯s tone.

    ¡°Him.¡± Crov nodded. ¡°He claimed to be the lordling of the house Leopold. Though I don¡¯t know what all those titles meant, from their words, I think they had grand stature and authority in the outside world.¡±

    ¡°Lordling of the house Leopold? All his authority and power hold no meaning on this island. He killed our Dada, and we shall avenge him.¡±

    ¡°You mustn¡¯t! All the strongmen of the Bald Brutes have been felled that night. Only people of my age and yours are spared. I wish he gets the map. Otherwise, all of the rest including the elderly and children might not escape this calamity.¡±

    Raenard flinched then. His hands went up to grope the vest over his chest. Then he heaved a sigh of relief.

    ¡°Hmm, what is it Raenard?¡±

    ¡°Nothing. It¡¯s nothing, really.¡± Raenard shook his head hard. ¡°Grandpa, there¡¯s a thing I must do. I¡¯ll be out for a while.¡± With that said, he turned around and started his way out.

    Pulling a worried face, Crov reached his hand out to stop him. Once Raenard was out of his eyeshot, he heaved a sigh of relief. Finally, the spooky bastard was gone.

    His thoughts turned to Raenard¡¯s abnormal behavior just before. The way he responded sat oddly with him.

    Suddenly his eyes widened. ¡°Could he have¡­¡±

 Chapter 3: Hell or Highwater

    The map was light as a leaf in his hands. He could barely differentiate the markings and the wrinkles on it. He couldn¡¯t quite believe this worn-out map had caused the downfall of the Bald Brutes.

    Looking at the map, his first thought was, is it really the same island?

    He didn¡¯t know how the island looked from above, but he was sure it wouldn¡¯t be circular like it was depicted on the map. Gintura Isle¡¯s edges were jagged like the edge of a badly made saw. There was a big dent in the east.

    Ignoring the edges, it might look like a bitten apple. Not circular.

    Landmarks on the map were also strange. He only recognized a few. Luckily, the path to the grotto Dada mentioned was one of them.

    Moon Ridge Mountains were barren mountains that crawled along the edge of the north. They curled around the island like a crescent moon. If he had to go there on foot, it¡¯d take at least three days.

    Fortunately, the first thing he did after leaving Crov¡¯s secret hideout was getting a horse that had the draconic steed pedigree which was known for its speed and stamina. The stallion towered over him by three arms on its strong legs. Its dark scales were the flakes of black iron plate. With this big guy, he could reach the foot of the ridge by dusk.

    He took out a quill and marked a place nearest to the destination at the foot of the Moon Ridge mountains.

    He strapped his travel sack into a saddlebag and tied a bunch of dry grass laced with stimulants to the other side of the saddle.

    The horse ate half of his savings and the others such as rations and stimulants had drained his pocket. But Ray believed it was worth it.

    Wedging a leg into a stirrup, he mounted the horse. Dada was the best rider he had known. And Dada made sure Ray wasn¡¯t a bad one either.

    He leaned forward to caress the mount¡¯s neck and squeezed his legs at the girth which set the horse into motion.

    Ray began with trotting and urged the horse up to a canter after a while and finally broke into a gallop. Gaining speed eagerly wasn¡¯t good for long rides; it¡¯d wear out the horse. But Ray had very little time to spare. If only to reach his destination sooner, he¡¯d happily wear out a dozen horses to death.

    By the time the sun settled overhead, Mirantel City was far out of his eyeshot and tall trees of Chiura Forest were in his sight. It was a great forest so thick with trees that even at noon, you would scarcely find a patch of light inside. Every tree was like any other. Without a guide, the first-timers would be strangled inside the forest for eternity. Dada had often brought him here to train him, so Ray knew it like the back of his hand.

    Like there was a caveat for everything, this one had it too. And that was ¡®never set a foot in the forest once the sun went down¡¯. There were many scary stories about the forest circulating among the islanders. But all of them stressed one thing: nasty beasts would be afoot in the Chiura Forest after the sunset.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Ray didn¡¯t quite believe them, but he knew better than to turn a deaf ear to such widespread belief. There was no smoke without fire after all.

    Hence, he was set on reaching the foot of the Moon Mountain Ridge by dusk.

    At a dead gallop, he charged into the forest, headlong. The horse beneath him became restless in the dark maze of woods. Ray rubbed below its neck reassuringly. He became its eyes and guided it along the creek that would lead him out of the forest to the ridge. He slowed down the horse when they passed through the sleeping bear¡¯s territory and deftly avoided the sly ape¡¯s turf.

    The journey was tedious. Ray didn¡¯t intend to stop except for lunch, but the horse was giving trouble.

    In the beginning, the horse had been quite high-spirited and responded to the lightest of his squeezes. But now it fell behind his leg, not responding to him even when he closed his legs with all his strength.

    He too felt a bit dizzy. His spine turned soft from the hours of the journey. There was no strength in his legs to give directions to the horse anymore.

    He opened his grip around the girth to slow down the horse. The latter, who had been happy to oblige, came to a halt almost immediately.

    Ray leaned to take out the dry grass that¡¯d been strapped to the saddle and fed it to the horse who chewed on it right away. The poor thing had no idea that the dry grass was laced with stimulants to bring the horse to a top condition temporarily.

    Once the effect had worn off, Ray estimated, it couldn¡¯t walk for at least three days.

    By the time he completed his lunch, the stimulants seemed to take effect. The horse started sniggering and clawing restlessly. When Ray gave it a slight squeeze, it reared up on its hind legs and neighed and directly broke into a dead gallop on its own.

    Ray didn¡¯t have time to adjust to the bouncing. His spine felt like it was being hammered. He had to pull his reins hard to control it.

    And like that, he ventured into the forest.

    When he reached the foot of the Moon Ridge Mountains, all the strength had left Ray. He lay on the back of the horse like a poppet, his limbs dangling. The horse wasn¡¯t much better either; the effects of stimulants began to wear off.

    Luckily, they reached the foot of the chain of bald mountains before dusk. Unlike Chiura Forest he crossed, Moon Ridge Mountains didn¡¯t have a sliver of greenery on it. Down from here, the ridge looked like a desert of big rocks.

    No dangerous beast would lurk around a pile of rocks. But scaling the mountain was still not an easy task.

    Ray didn¡¯t intend to climb it right away. His body needed some rest. He unfastened the saddle and bridle, and threw them off the horse. Then he threw a bunch of green grass stuffed with medicinal leaves in front of it.

    That was his compensation.

    Then he took a piece of spiced meat from the travel sack and munched on it. Soon, he found himself nodding off.

    He shook himself to attention. It wasn¡¯t safe down here.

    He pulled out a rope and started scaling the tallest tree he could find. When he found a sturdy branch, he bound himself to it.

    Shifting on the hard and uneven bed, he tried hard to find some comfortable position to slip into the sleep. But his mind was a welter of thoughts.

    What exactly is in that grotto?

    I hope there¡¯s some kinda weapon. A psychic one would be better. I¡¯ll kill those bastards and avenge Dada.

    But¡­ What if I can¡¯t find anything helpful? Should I hand over the map and save the rest of the Bald Brutes?

    NO! The answer came right away.

    If he gave the map to them, he could retrieve Dada¡¯s body and save the rest of the Bald Brutes. But that¡¯d render Dada¡¯s death meaningless. Dada had chosen death instead of offering the map. If he gave it now, wouldn¡¯t he be insulting Dada?

    That wasn¡¯t something Ray would do even in his death.

    Ray closed his eyes. What should he do then?

    After struggling for a while, he decided. If there was something that can help him wipe out the outlanders, he¡¯d do it. If there wasn¡¯t, he¡¯d go back, go to the Eiran fucking Leopold to show him the map, and then¡­ he¡¯d burn the map right in front of him.

    That¡¯d be nice. He smiled. Sure, without a doubt, the next thing would be his death. But that didn¡¯t seem half bad.

    *****

    When the sun graced the first ray of light onto the land, Ray was on his way up the mountain. The rocky surface beneath his feet was too hard and slippery. He had a hard time finding a purchase. Nonetheless, he pressed on with a sheer will.

    Hell or high water, this day it would be decided.

 Chapter 4: Sly Old Ghost

    Covered in rashes and bruises, Ray finally reached the ancient tomb marked in the map. It was a beast¡¯s head he had never seen before.

    His attention was drawn to its enormous bloody eyes that seemed to follow him as he approached. And jaws¡­ it had rows upon rows of razor-sharp teeth that sent a chill down his spine. The rest of its features were covered in thick fur. He wasn¡¯t sure if he could call it fur as it was too lengthy to be considered as one.

    Except it was carved on a rock, the beast was exceptionally lifelike.

    Calming his breath, he stepped into the beast¡¯s mouth. It was a passageway dug in the mountains. Inside rock was hard and damp. Slippery even. He had to crab along the wall to get a better grip.

    A hundred feet in, the light started to fade away. And two hundred feet in, it was pitch black. Ray made sufficient preparations though. He lit up the torch and held it out in front. The passageway seemed to taper as it went.

    Slowly and carefully, he fumbled across the passage, into the bowels of the mountains. After what it seemed like an eternity, the narrow passage suddenly widened into a cave.

    Ray eagerly swung his torch to see around. At the center of the cave stood an altar. The pillars were engraved with letters ¡ª probably of some ancient language ¡ª he couldn¡¯t recognize. They look like a spread of clutter of swords in an irregular pattern. The number of swords and their arrangement varied with each letter.

    Depicted on the altar was a battle. He couldn¡¯t quite recognize the warriors though. There were beasts and humanoid grotesques. But he didn¡¯t see the humans.

    Maybe they were overshadowed by these gigantic things.

    None of them was his concern though.

    His eyes landed on the scroll and the visard that lay on the center of the altar.

    Not them.

    His eyes darted to a pool of bubbling golden blood beside the altar.

    Not this.

    He looked around. But nothing else was there.

    He hoped to find a sword or sphere or anything that would¡¯ve been useful. What would he do with a scroll, mask, and a pool of golden blood?

    He didn¡¯t even know what they were. Let alone using them to wipe out the outlanders.

    Ray grew despondent. Could it be dying with the rest of the Bald Brutes was his only option?

    ¡°Oh, Aren¡¯t you an anxious little guy?¡±

    Ray almost jumped out of his skin in fright. The torch slipped from his hands.

    When it was about to hit the bottom, it froze in the air. ¡°Now, there¡¯s no need to be baffled so much.¡±

    The torch began to levitate. It wheeled around him dramatically once and finally stopped before him.

    The fire flickered and spat fireballs around. Fireballs swirled around and condensed into an old man.

    Ray stood transfixed and wild-eyed. ¡°Ghost!¡± he cried.

    The old man¡¯s phantom flickered. In that brief moment, Ray swore that he saw something. Something that was not so human. Something like¡­ like the grotesque depicted on the altar!

    ¡°Rude!¡± the old man snapped. ¡°Little brat, you better watch your mouth. Only dead things will become ghosts. Though only a tiny fragment of my soul survived, I still couldn¡¯t be considered dead.¡±

    A tiny fragment of the soul? And you say you are not a ghost?!

    ¡°I said I am not!¡± the old man shouted.

    Ray was perplexed. Can he hear my thoughts?

    ¡°You bet!¡±

    Sweat beaded on Ray¡¯s forehead. To read someone¡¯s mind, this must be a powerful old monster from ancient times.

    The old man laughed proudly. ¡°Trust me, you¡¯ve no idea.¡±This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    Ray went silent.

    ¡°So, you seem to come here with a lot of expectations. Tell me. Perhaps, I can help you.¡±

    Despite himself, Ray couldn¡¯t help but think about his hopes to find a solution to his spirit problem and find a weapon.

    ¡°Interesting! You have an abnormal spirit?¡±

    Hard lines appeared on Ray¡¯s forehead. The old foggy was really pushing him. But there was nothing he could do.

    And he was also tempted. The old foggy must be a powerful cultivator from ancient times. Perhaps he can solve his problem.

    So Ray explained about his unresponsive spirits.

    ¡°You have dual spirits? And they were awakened at twelve?¡± The old man¡¯s beady eyes gleamed with a peculiar light.

    ¡°Not dual spirits,¡± amended Ray. ¡°Surely, they are two beasts. But I felt they are not separate entities¡­ like¡­ like¡­¡± Ray groped for words.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you just show me your spirits?¡± suggested the old man.

    Ray turned around and pulled down his robe till his spirits could be seen on his back. He nervously looked at the old man.

    The old man looked at his spirits intently. Then his phantom flickered again. For a brief moment, the gentle old man turned into a grotesque before turning back to being the gentle one. And the smile on his face somehow seemed eery.

    Ray¡¯s heartbeat spiked up. He didn¡¯t know what those freaking grotesques were, be he was sure as hell they were bad news. Who was the old ghost then? A human or a grotesque? He had a nagging feeling about this. Since the old fogy could read his mind, he should¡¯ve read his suspicions too. But he was conveniently ignoring them.

    ¡°Brat, I have a speculation, but let me test your body to confirm it.¡±

    Then, without his consent, he jabbed his finger at Ray¡¯s wrist. Blood poured out.

    It hurt. Ray swore he felt a claw instead of a nail.

    This is bad. The situation was growing dangerous for Ray.

    The old man started to laugh hysterically. His phantom started morphing to the grotesque and back to the human self quite erratically. ¡°Finally! Finally! Finally, after countless eons, I have found it. I¡¯m free!¡± He turned to Ray, his eyes sparkling like a balefire. ¡°Brat, I know a solution to your problem.¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡± asked Ray with a calmness he never expected.

    The old man started to explain, hovering around Ray. ¡°You said a spirit would only be awakened at sixteenth summer. But it was a relative statement. In a place with a high concentration of spiritual energy ¡ª chi ¡ª spirits can be awakened sooner. In ancient times, children awakened their spirits at their birth. So, you¡¯ve awakened your spirit at twelve simply implies you are born at a fairly high chi concentrated place. It¡¯s not as abnormal as you think.¡±

    I¡¯m born at a high chi concentrated place? Ray couldn¡¯t help but think of what Dada said: You descended like a meteor, Ray.

    So it was not Dada¡¯s random ramble to make him feel better?

    ¡°As for the spirit, your spirit was a primal spirit. The best grade of all. But it seemed you¡¯ve suffered severe injuries in the past. Your bone marrows have been severed. You should¡¯ve died long ago. But your tenacious spirit was unwilling. Under its persistence, a miracle happened. Your bone marrows have been converted into that of your spirit¡¯s. But the conversion has been minute. It was not enough to generate its own blood. No wonder you are so scrawny.

    ¡°And in the process of conversion, your spirit has suffered severe trauma and fell to the bottom grade.¡± the old man explained calmly.

    It took a while for Ray to absorb it all. His spirit had suffered trauma to save him?

    All the points mentioned by the old foggy were things he hadn¡¯t heard or read before.

    Awakening spirit at their birth... a spirit with its own independent consciousness and intelligent enough to make its own decisions¡­ these concepts were so alien to him that even after being told, he couldn¡¯t quite accept them.

    And a primal spirit, what the hell was that?

    Nonetheless, he finally had answers to the questions that dogged him for years.

    ¡°No need for long faces, kiddo. I can help you out. I have a cultivation technique tailored just for you. Just close your eyes and let your soul be at ease. I will transmit the technique to your soul. Don¡¯t struggle,¡± said the old man.

    Ray looked at the old man deeply.  Don¡¯t struggle? He knew what was going to happen then. This old ghost was trying to possess him. ¡°You¡¯re finally making the move, huh?¡±

    The old ghost paused, then he shook his head. ¡°You¡¯re a sharp one. If not for my soul has been dwindling for eons and grew unstable, you wouldn¡¯t have caught on so easily. No matter. You can¡¯t outrun me anyway.¡±

    Ray raised an eyebrow in challenge. ¡°Can¡¯t I?¡±

    There must be a reason for the old ghost to get stuck in this area. As long as he ran away, he was sure to shake off the old ghost.

    ¡°You really can¡¯t. As long as you are within my perception, you can¡¯t escape. And this whole ridge of mountains was in my perception. Just stay still and accept fate.¡±

    Ray¡¯s heart sank. He had no problem with dying. His life had been quite pathetic anyway. But he wanted to avenge Dada. ¡°All these years, you must¡¯ve found many people to get a body. Why do you choose me? You know, my condition isn¡¯t good. You can choose better ones with the good psyche.¡±

    The old ghost smiled. ¡°You really don¡¯t know how astounding your qualifications are. True, your primal spirit has been damaged. But it can be healed and restored with ample blood supply. With the bone marrow matching your spirit, your future is limitless. Trust me when I say your qualifications are one of the best even in ancient times. So tell me, who else would I choose than such a body?¡±

    My potential is one of the best even in ancient times?

    Ray smiled bitterly. What if he had such potential? He was so weak now that he could only watch the old ghost possess him.

    It seemed he couldn¡¯t escape the inevitability. He couldn¡¯t stop it, but he could bargain. ¡°Help me kill off the outlanders on this island on your way out.¡± He closed his eyes. ¡°Do it.¡±

    He didn¡¯t trust the sly old foggy to keep his word. But he believed Eairan Leopold would look for him when he came to know he was the closest to Dada. Wearing his body, the old foggy and Eiran Leopold were destined to cross paths.

    ¡°Worry not, I will fulfill your final request.¡± The old man paused. ¡°But before that, let¡¯s see the unwelcomed guest out.¡±

    ¡°Hmm?¡± Ray startled.

    The old man swung his sleeve, and Ray heard a whimper in the darkness. He turned on his heel to see a red-robed youngster writhing on the rocky ground.

    It¡¯s him. Ray recognized the youngster. He was there with Eiran, sitting across the table, chatting.

    He followed me? The snake of raw hatred began to uncoil in Ray. No one else knew he was coming here except Crov. did Crov rat him out?

    ¡°He one of those outlanders?¡± asked the old man.

    Glaring at the youngster convulsing on the ground, Ray nodded.

    ¡°What an unexpected chance to show my sincerity,¡± the old man mused.

    He clicked his fingers. The youngster sprawled and yelped.

    ¡°Greedy brat, you wanted to steal my treasures?¡± chided the old man.

    His phantom started to morph again. But this time, it didn¡¯t flicker. The grotesque had assumed his true form: pointy face, three mouths, skin covered with scales, needle-like nails.

    Ray¡¯s skin crawled at the very sight of the grotesque.

    The grotesque loomed over the youngster. Looking at the youngster, he cackled. ¡°Your balls must be made of steel, boy. Even the overlords of ancient times wouldn¡¯t dare to touch this custodian¡¯s belongings.¡±

    The grotesque dug his hand into the youngster. Strangely, it went through. And when he retracted his hands, there was a light ball hovering above his palm. A miniature of the red-robed youngster hovering in it.

    Turning his goat-like red eyes to Ray, he said, ¡°His soul would be tortured by my purgatory flames for eternity. The same fate will befall on your enemies. So you can rest in peace.¡±

    With that said, he shot towards Ray.

 Chapter 5: Soul Devouring Wheel

    Performing a series of hand seals, Demorgon¡¯s eyes shined as he looked at the boy in front. He found it hard to control his excitement. If not for the ceremony he had to perform before the possession, he would¡¯ve lunged at the kid.

    For a high custodian who led a war that laid countless worlds to waste, it should have been easier to control his emotions. But it was not.

    All these eons, he had clung to the purple yin stone to maintain the last fragment of his soul. He could not leave this cave. Purple yin stone can only stop his soul from degenerating. It could not help him recover. And now, purple yin stone was all but gone.

    In the beginning, he sucked the life energy around the mountains to recover his soul. But it was far from enough. Even after he sucked the life out of every living thing on the mountains, only the tiniest fraction of his soul had been recovered.

    Even a high custodian in the Will Cultivation Realm could not resist the corrosion of time. Just when he thought he was a goner, the kid appeared!

    And the kid got the best constitution he could hope for!

    The brat stood there in front of him, straight as a pillar, eyes closed. Demorgon could not sense fear in the kid. Only relief.

    This brat is sly. Demorgon smiled. He could naturally read the brat¡¯s thoughts. He wasn¡¯t relieved because he trusted him. He was relieved because, once Demorgon had worn his body, Demorgon could not avoid the skirmish with the outlanders. But he is ignorant.

    The older the ginger, the spicier it gets. If even a fifteen summers old brat could plot that far, then what about an old monster like him?

    Demorgon¡¯s eyes darted to the mask that lay on the altar. With that thing, no one could find him if he decided to hide.

    Hand seals were completed. Without further ado, he dived into the brat.

    When he felt no struggle from the soul, Demorgon nodded with satisfaction. The brat knew what was better for him. If only for this, he¡¯d give the boy a painless death. He made a hand seal to isolate the brat¡¯s soul from the body. That way, he would not suffer pain.

    He coiled around the brat¡¯s soul like a python and took a bite. Without soul cultivation and soul skills, it was fragile as a block of butter.

    But when he was about to gulp it¡ªThis tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    The brat¡¯s soul rocked. Tendrils of dark smoke unfurled. Slowly, they began to curl around Demorgon¡¯s soul.

    Demorgon¡¯s pupil shrank. Pure dark element? How can anyone in this world have it?! Even the shadow clans¡¯ dark element was corrupted. Can he be¡­

    But the dark tendrils didn¡¯t give him any chance to think the things through. They began to consume his soul.

    Demorgon¡¯s soul trembled. He quickly located the source of the darkness. Inside the brat¡¯s soul body, there was a dark vortex. At the center of the vortex sat a humanoid shadow.

    When Demorgon saw the dark vortex, he didn¡¯t dare to hesitate even for a jiffy. He immediately seized all his actions and turned to flee. Soul devouring wheel! That¡¯s a Soul Devouring Wheel! How can it come to this world?

    Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. He wanted nothing but to leave. Then¡ª

    The humanoid shadow opened its eyes and held up its hand. And Demorgon found himself caught in its clutches.

    His eyes widened. ¡°Who are you? Why are you against me? You should know we¡ª¡±

    The shadow pinched Demorgon¡¯s soul indifferently. Demorgon¡¯s soul was blown to bits. Soul searing pain was excruciating. He lost half of his soul energy.

    When Demorgon condensed into the soul body again, he found that he was still in the shadow¡¯s clutches, ready to be pinched again.

    ¡°Hear me out!¡± Demorgon shrieked.

    Pinch.

    ¡°We are in the same¡ª¡±

    Pinch.

    Every time his soul was shattered, he lost the soul energy. If it continued, he would really die. Everything would¡¯ve been in vain then. The grand scheme, seizing the world treasures, and the take over... everything would¡¯ve been for nothing.

    ¡°Not for nothing,¡± the shadow spoke.

    Pinch.

    Soul energy fluctuations washed through the cave. The soul seal he placed on the brat broke. And the kid shook vehemently.

    Then Demorgon saw a weathered scroll fall from his vest.

    Demorgon¡¯s eyes widened. That scroll was very familiar to him. It looked exactly like the scroll on the altar. His gaze cut to the scroll that lay on the altar. His face was distorted in anger and panic. ¡°You¡¯re on the move! You chose¡ª¡±

    Pinch.

    That was the last time his soul shattered. All the soul energy he had been saving for eons was used up. His consciousness started to blur. He knew he was dying. In his final moments, he foresaw the war that once shook the multiverse to its core coming back to settle the debts.

    *****

    Ray woke up in an unspeakably dark space. He swung his hand in front, but he saw nothing. And he realized his physical senses were working no more.

    So, I really died huh? At least I hope the old monster will wipe out the outlanders.

    He looked around in the endless darkness. Which way should I go then?

    A tiny light coming from afar attracted his attention. That way?

    Ray began in that direction. He was both nervous and expectant.

    His past life had been quite pathetic. He had to choose studies because he couldn¡¯t cultivate. He had to seek others¡¯ assistance to avenge Dada. He even had to give up his life so that an old fogy might avenge Dada in his stead.

    Compromised. Helpless. Hopeless. Such life, he didn¡¯t want to live it.

    His new life, how was it going to be? He hoped, at least in the new life, he could be stronger.

    Strong enough to make decisions for himself. Strong enough to protect himself and his dear ones. Strong enough to be free.

    He wondered if he could bribe someone to get a good life. Whether it was in hell or heaven, Ray believed, bribes had their way.

    Ray made his way to the source of light. When he saw the source ¡ª or rather sources ¡ª he stopped short, nonplussed.

 Chapter 6: Hell to High Water (1)

    Two light balls floated in front of Ray. One was as big as the sun and the other a tiny moth. And that was it. Nothing else was there.

    Where should he go now? Even if they didn¡¯t bother to assign some personnel to escort the dead souls, they should at least put some signposts, right?

    He stood there and waited, hoping someone would come to send him off to his next life. None came.

    After what seemed like an eternity, Ray came to a painful conclusion that no one was coming. He gazed at the two light balls in front of him. Perhaps, they could guide him?

    He mulled over it for a while and extended his hand to touch the small moth-sized light ball. The big one was quite intimidating; the small one seemed pretty safe.

    The small light ball wobbled at his touch. The next moment, it swooshed and darted to the center of his forehead.

    Ray¡¯s eyes widened. His hands went up to hold his head. A terrible headache assaulted him. He sprawled on the ground.

    It was like someone hammering his brain, like some external matter invading his brain through a hole dug in his brain.

    Wasn¡¯t he not supposed to feel senses? Or was this the punishment for the sins he had committed in his previous life?

    Then he saw something else. He saw a child born in a decent house, his harsh upbringing, him becoming a youngster with wild ambitions, joining Blood Gate¡­

    It was like he was reading a flipbook of someone¡¯s life. But each page in the book was branded onto his soul. He couldn¡¯t forget it even if he wanted to.

    Then by the end¡­ he saw Eiran Leopold, saw Dada, saw how they tortured and killed Dada.

    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Ray¡¯s eyes became red with molten rage.

    And finally, he saw the youngster tailing Ray¡­ and his death by the hands of the old ghost.

    Ray froze. It took a while to absorb it all. But he understood: the tiny light ball had been the memories of the red-robed youngster.

    What was going on? Were those light balls not there to guide him to his next life? Were they memories? Then that gigantic light ball, whose memories were those?

    Flickering of the torch fire dragged him out of his revery. To his vast dismay, he was no longer in the dark space which he believed the world of the dead souls.

    Ray turned his head to look at the familiar cave: the altar, blood pool, and the dwindling torch fire.

    Rocky bottom beneath him was uncomfortably hard and uneven. Ray stirred to stand up.

    He could feel his senses now: he was not dead!

    Ray didn¡¯t believe that the old ghost suddenly grew kindhearted enough to let a perfect opportunity to possession go after lurking in these damnable mountains for god knows how long. He couldn¡¯t wrap his head around what bizarre things could possibly happen after he closed his eyes that led to such an outcome.

    But he knew he lived. And that old ghost most likely was dead. That giant light ball had to be the old ghost¡¯s memory.

    He suddenly felt a pang of regret. Had he touched the giant light ball, would he have gotten the old ghost¡¯s memories?

    That¡¯s the knowledge of an ancient old monster. Imagining all the cultivation knowledge, techniques, experiences he could¡¯ve gotten, his liver ached in regret.

    The sea of honey had presented itself before him, but he went for a spoonful sugar instead. How ignorant could he be?

    Nonetheless, he lived. And he knew the problem with his spirit and the solution to it now. He could grow stronger in this life too. He thanked the saints for it.

    Ray stood in front of the altar. He hadn¡¯t paid much attention to the things here when he came. But the old ghost called them treasures. They must be extremely precious.

    The scroll seemed to be made out of beast skin. When he unfurled it, he was puzzled to see nothing. But he didn¡¯t really believe there was nothing. From the books he read, he knew there were different methods to activate different treasures.

    He turned his attention to the porcelain visard. Two sides of the face were depicted on the visard. Painted in white, the left side of the face wore a genial smile and the right side of the face, painted in black, donned an eery smile.

    When he held it in his hands, the colors on the visard began to swirl and slowly, a new face emerged. His face!

    Ray jumped in fright. What the hell is this?

    He put it on the altar right away. Holding his own face in his own hands like that grossed him out.

    Out of the three treasures here, he couldn¡¯t recognize the abilities of two. Despondently, he reached the golden blood pool. Of the three things he had seen, he only recognized this blood pool. It was also the most helpful treasure at the moment.

    It was a blood quenching pool which only lordlings of the affluent families could afford. Judging from rich golden color, Ray reckoned it might be of the best grade of all blood quenching pools.

    It might not help him cultivate right away, but it would improve his psyche tremendously.

    Excited and expectant, Ray jumped into the golden blood pool.

 Chapter 7: Hell to High Water (2)

    Golden blood wasn¡¯t actually boiling, but when Ray entered it, he suffered searing pain. The blood prickled at his skin. It was like he was bound tightly by spicy thorns.

    He wondered if he was going to become parched meat in this bloody pool.

    Ray recalled a body quenching technique from the memories of the red-robed youngster ¡ª Geisha. It was a technique that used the blood essence to quench the mortal body. It included tempering skin, injecting the blood through pores, tempering muscles and bones.

    Steps, procedures, and caveats were explained quite detailedly.

    Ray began quenching his body. Golden blood swirled around him, entering his body through skin pores. It cleansed and remolded his body like he was a piece of metal that was to be forged in a furnace.

    The process was excruciatingly painful. Ray gritted and wheezed through it.

    Luckily, though the golden blood was of extremely high grade, it was not highly concentrated. It was prepared just right for an upstart cultivator. It seemed the old ghost had prepared this to improve the constitution of the possessed body.

    It ended up helping him instead.

    Soon, he started to feel the changes in his body. In his bones, flesh, tendons¡­ a strength ¡ª the strength he couldn¡¯t find in his body for the past four years ¡ª started to course through his body.

    Strangely though, there was no pain. Instead, a wave of relief and bliss washed over him. Every part of his body quivered in joy.

    Ray wished he could be in that state forever. But nothing lasts forever. The bubbling of the blood dwindled. Swirling stopped. The hot blood was now cold.

    Ray opened his eyes to see the golden blood was no more to be seen; it was yellowish water around him.

    Sighing, Ray emerged out of the pool and took a good look at his body. He seemed to have gotten fairer. And his body¡­ all his flesh bound tightly to his bones and skin to the flesh. There were vague outlines of muscles. While it was still not meaty and muscular, it was not scrawny anymore. It exuded a unique charm.

    He clenched his fists and felt the power it packed. Finally some strength in my bony body.

    How many attempts had he done to feel it? Lifting stones, running around the forest, practicing martial moments¡­ all for what? Everything to feel this strength.

    Now, here it was. And Ray swore to turn this tiny wisp of this strength into an endless raging storm.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    He picked up the robe and pulled himself into it. He shuffled to the altar and picked up the treasures. And finally, he stopped before Geisha¡¯s corpse. Through Geisha¡¯s memories, he knew what had happened.

    Geisha was an assassin apprentice at Blood Gate which ruled the area around. He had come here to watch over Eiran by the orders of Blood Gate. He was to put Eiran in his leashes, but being the corrupt one, Geisha agreed to look the other way at the cost of a few spirit grains.

    But in the midway, knowing that Eiran is here on a treasure hunt, his greed kicked in. While maintaining an aloof front, he did his work in the dark and managed to find a rat. Through it, he found Ray was close to Dada. Since then, Geisha kept his tabs on him.

    Ray had to acknowledge that Geisha was smart. Smarter than Eiran. But it only pushed him to death.

    Had Ray known things have gone the way they had, he would¡¯ve lured Eiran here. What a pity!

    Ray took the mask and touched Geisha¡¯s corpse with it. As expected, the colors on the visard began to swirl. And Geisha¡¯s face emerged!

    Ray¡¯s eyes glinted with excitement. With this face, he could avenge Dada.

    Without delay, he put on the mask and began to move to the pool with the torch in his hand. But¡ª

    When he put on the mask, black and white lights exploded from the mask and shrouded his body. They began to swirl around him. And when they receded, Ray felt he grew a head taller and gained three stones of weight at least.

    His eyes widened in shock. What¡¯s this all about?

    He swung his hands around to feel the strength of the muscular body. But¡­ he didn¡¯t feel any more strength than he already had.

    Ray got confused. But when he saw his reflection in the yellowish water pool under the torchlight, he froze.

    He looked¡­ exactly like Geisha!

    Not just face. Height, weight, complexion and even the temperament are the same!

    When he had come to his senses from the shock, he couldn¡¯t help but marvel at the visard. Treasure! A priceless treasure!

    He had been considering stuffing his robes and adding some thickness to his moccasins to look like Geisha, but now he didn¡¯t have to.

    He was Geisha now. Ray was sure even Geisha¡¯s mother couldn¡¯t differentiate.

    Brimming with confidence, Ray collected a ring from Geisha¡¯s corpse. From Geisha¡¯s memory, he knew it was a space ring where all his treasures had been stored.

    Too bad he needed spiritual energy ¡ª chi ¡ª to activate it. Though he had quenched and remolded his body, he still couldn¡¯t awaken his spirit. The blood that used to quench the body and the blood he needed to awaken his spirit were essentially different.

    To awaken his spirit, he needed blood essence that suited his spirit: the blood of beasts from draconic pedigree and basaltic turtle pedigree.

    When he gets his hands on them, he could cultivate.

    After wearing the ring, he started to disrobe the Geisha¡¯s corpse. If he wanted to assume Geisha¡¯s appearance, he had to look like Geisha in every sense, including clothes.

    Geisha¡¯s body was cold as ice. Ray felt repulsive as he removed his robes. Bile rose to his throat. But nonetheless, he persisted.

    By the time he walked out of the cave, he was Geisha. There was no shade of Ray on him.

    On his way back, Ray felt a welter of emotions. The journey¡­ it had been quite an adventure. So many variables had been at play. The old ghost and Geisha¡­ no matter which one he was up against, he would¡¯ve died. And yet, by the end of the day, they had died and he lived.

    He still didn¡¯t know how did the old ghost die. He couldn¡¯t fathom what had occurred when he was unconscious.

    ¡®An unbelievably stupendous stroke of luck,¡¯ he called it.

    He expected it would be either hell or high water. But he experienced both. He trod from hell to high water.

    He ran back on foot. After going through the body quenching, he was far stronger than any animal without cultivation. Also, he wanted to run and experience strength.

    Throughout the journey, he carefully recalled Geisha¡¯s habits, bearing and all; and he began to practice to make them his own.

    Also, he hatched several plans to send Eiran to his maker. He considered all the possibilities and performed simulations in his mind.

    He was forging a knife and Eiran wouldn¡¯t see it until it was nailed into his throat.

 Chapter 8: Extortion

    When he came to the premises of Mirantel City, Ray stopped for a moment to assume domineering airs.

    He was Geisha now, and Geisha wouldn¡¯t pant, buckle, and be wild-eyed. All the impersonations of the protagonists he did from the many novels he read came in handy now.

    He straightened his spine, his head held up. His steely eyes were focussed on the path ahead. With a firm gait, he reached the pagoda that stood tall in a place where Edinghan Castle once sat.

    At the notice of his presence, guards knelt. Ray waved his hand to let them stand. A maid came hurriedly to lead him to his room.

    Clambering up the drunken stair, Ray carefully scanned the interior of the pagoda. It had nine stories. Each story had six rooms except for the top story which had three spacious rooms. One was for Eiran and his guard, and the other was Geisha. The last one was a conference hall. Connecting all of them was a spiral staircase.

    The pagoda was carefully built, regarding the security as its utmost priority.

    The only way to reach Eiran was through this spiral stairs. But, if you wanted to reach him, you¡¯d have to go through forty-eight guards who were at the peak of Spirit Opening Stage. Some might even be at Spirit Establishing Stage.

    But what really shook Ray was the person who built the pagoda. The pagoda was built in a night or rather in a quarter-hour. It was built out of the very land it stood on. By the earth elementalist.

    The person who built the pagoda can control the elemental chi outside his body freely. Only a cultivator at Spirit Injecting Stage could do that. That was the third stage of the cultivation!

    Even across the world, a Spirit Gestating Stage cultivator had a force to reckon with.

    And such a cultivator was protecting Eiran on this voyage. Ray¡¯s face grew grim at the realization.

    Once he was in his room, the maid went to his back and began to pull down his robes. Ray went stiff. He forgot how things went with nobles. All those lordlings had a habit of fornicating with women they could get their proverbial claws on. Maids were no exception. In fact, they were trained to satisfy their owners.

    Ray held up a hand. The maid stopped. He shooed her away. ¡°Leave me and don¡¯t disturb me for a while,¡± he said in a strict tone.

    The maid trembled and scrambled away.

    Ray heaved a sigh of relief. That was a close call. He should be more attentive from now on. Lest some random girl stole his virginity in his careless nights.

    The room was quite spacious. Despite it was made of soil, it had a grandeur that many extravagant buildings on the isle lacked. Near the window, the feathery bed was so plushy that when he lay on it, he almost sank into the bed. Ray could see sleep beckoning to him. Ray wished he could embrace it, but more important things were at hand.

    Inside the bathroom, despite it was made of clay, the bathtub didn¡¯t turn into slush when the scented, lukewarm water swirling gently around. Beside the bathtub lay herbal scrubs on a porcelain plate.

    Ray sloughed off his robes and sunk into the scented water. A sense of peace flooded in. Ray closed his eyes.

    What should I do? Ray wondered. Eiran¡¯s guards were quite diligent. They kept an eye on their lordling all the time. And that old man¡­ Ray thought of the Spirit Injecting Stage cultivator: a hunch-backed old man with wrinkles on his face and snow-white hair on his head. Eiran called him grandpa Clyde. That old foggy wouldn¡¯t leave Eiran even for a jiffy.

    He didn¡¯t leave Eiran¡¯s side even when he was sleeping with maids, Ray recalled from Geisha¡¯s memories.

    It was almost impossible to make a move on Eiran. Even if Ray poisoned the food, he¡¯d simply be killing Eiran¡¯s hounds for they tasted first everything for Eiran.

    And any mismove meant death for Ray. He didn¡¯t want to gamble with his life. Not when he could cultivate and become stronger. When he became strong enough, he could beat the crap out of Eiran.

    Ray took the herbal scrub and began scrubbing. It smelled so sweet that he almost ate it.

    ¡°Let¡¯s first make good use of Eiran and extort some cultivation resources.¡±

    *****

    Ray exasperatedly looked at himself in the mirror. Beneath that thin red robe embroidered with dragons and phoenixes, there were weapons enough to arm a garrison to the teeth. Enchanted armor, talismans, hidden weapons, and whatnot.

    He didn¡¯t dare to ruffle his grey wavy hair which he liked to feel so often for he didn¡¯t know which was his hair strand and which was a poison needle.

    So, a dress can be so lethal. Ray felt his horizons broaden. It took him three hours to look like this. He wondered if he was overdoing it.

    But the next step was of pivotal importance. For that, he needed to look like an edgy Geisha. Like he was about to blow things up if his demands were not met.

    When he opened the door, the maid scrambled to him for his assistance. When his steely eyes trained on her, she nervously shifted on her toes, her head down. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°Tell Eiran that I request his presence in the conference hall.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Milord.¡± She bowed and retreated.

    Ray made his way to the conference hall which had no walls. Only a semi-circular balustrade and drapes. A short-legged wooden table sat at the center on a plushy floor mat. A tiny thread of smoke was curling and swirling above the porcelain cups that lay beside the table.

    Herbal brews here were always smoking hot every time Geisha had come here. This time was no exception, it seemed. Ray wondered how many cups of herbal brew that had gone down the drain after they got cooled down. What a waste.

    Ray didn¡¯t stop at the table; instead, he pulled up the drapes and leaned against the handrail. He could see all of Mirantel. From up here, the pedestrians were ants, the buildings toys, and the graveled paths slithering black snakes.

    As he watched, Ray felt a sense of arrogance and power sneaking into him. As if everything was beneath him. This is how nobles liked it, huh? Looking down on everyone and everything.

    ¡°It¡¯s been a while, brother Geisha.¡± Eiran made his way from behind. His footsteps clacked in a rhythmic way. Ray pushed all his senses to their limit. ¡°You¡¯ve been out for almost five days. I wonder what¡¯s it in this barren island worth your time so much.¡±

    Ray trained his eyes on the guy that upended his life in a single night. Eiran Leopold wrapped himself in snowy furs. ¡°What I did, where I went, Is it your business to mind them?¡±

    That came out sharper than he intended.

    Eiran paused. Then he smiled. ¡°Of course not. Not unless you are out to on hunt for the scroll I am looking for. Surely, you wouldn¡¯t go behind my back an do such things, yes?¡±

    ¡°I do what I want, lordling. You have no control over me. But no, I won¡¯t waste my time on a scroll that God knows if it existed at all. I was hunting in the forest to sharpen myself.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s quite diligent of you,¡± Eiran commented. It was more a mock than praise. ¡°And I urge you, brother, to not question the authenticity of its existence. By doing so, you are challenging my acumen. I¡¯m here only after confirming its veracity. I¡¯ve given these hillbillies a fortnight to offer the map, but it seems I¡¯ve been too generous. A sennight has passed, but I didn¡¯t find any lead.¡± Eiran¡¯s eyes became glacial. ¡°Since the soft ways didn¡¯t yield the results, it¡¯s time for hard ways.¡±

    ¡°You do no such thing,¡± Ray said, fighting down a shiver at the mention of ¡®hard ways¡¯.

    This wasn¡¯t the first island Eiran visited. Eiran heard that there was a map that leads to an earth-shaking treasure. Through his sources, Eiran narrowed down his scope to the five isles: Gintura Isle and the four isles near to it. He believed the map should be somewhere on these islands.

    Gintura Isle was his last visit. And the four isles he had visited¡­ he razed them in his wake. No one was spared. Even children. Because he didn¡¯t want to risk a leak of the word.

    Ray wasn¡¯t foolish enough to think he would spare Gintura Isle. He had to drag Eiran out of this island before he could unleash his terror upon the island. And Ray knew exactly what he should do.

    ¡°The word of the destruction of the four islands has reached Blood Gate, brother Eiran. Soon, an investigation will be launched. We had sufficient time to cover them up. But we won¡¯t have enough time on our hand to whitewash the destruction of this island.¡± Ray cast a stern glance at Eiran. ¡°You know what happens then, don¡¯t you? I¡¯m sure you wouldn¡¯t want to be in Blood Gate¡¯s cross-hairs. Even the House Leopold can¡¯t help you out of it.¡±

    Eiran¡¯s face turned serious at the implication. ¡°Is it true?¡±

    Ray shrugged. ¡°Why would I lie?¡± Eiran fell into thinking. ¡°Also, I need my payment, brother Eiran. Convert them into five best grade vials of first-rank dragon blood essence and five basaltic blood essence. I¡¯ll be waiting for them in my room.¡±

    Ray turned around and began his way out. Behind him, Eiran whirled around. ¡°That¡¯s worth a hundred thousand spirit grains! Our deal was fifty thousand spirit grains ¡ª ten thousand spirit grains per island. You are stopping me from cleaning up this island and yet you¡¯ve doubled the payment! What are you playing at, brother Geisha?¡±

    It seems a hundred thousand spirit grains is a big amount even for a lordling.

    ¡°I¡¯m playing at nothing, brother Eiran. Blood Gate got the word now. The risk I¡¯m taking has doubled. It¡¯s only fair I get the double payment, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s your job to prevent Blood Gate from finding out. The word got out means you did sloppy work. I should charge you instead for thwarting my plans.¡± Eiran¡¯s face burned with fury.

    ¡°Watch your words, lordling. To satisfy your ego and sadistic urges, you laid those islands to waste. If not you insist on wiping them out and made a big scene, things wouldn¡¯t have come to it now.¡± Ray didn¡¯t let go of his chance to take a dig at Eiran.

    ¡°What did you say?¡± Eiran thundered. Whitish chi blasted out and hovered above Eiran.

    Ray was forced to take two steps back. ¡°Consider your actions carefully, lordling. This is not your turf to throw your weight around.¡± Ray wiped out the blood on his lips with the back of his hand. ¡°I¡¯ll be waiting for the vials in my room.¡±

    He turned around and shuffled to his room, leaving Eiran to choke on his rage.

    *****

    ¡°I want to kill him,¡± Eiran said to none.

    ¡°You must not, young master.¡± A voice came out of nowhere. The floor in front of Eiran began to bulge, twisting and squirming. The bulge slowly turned into a hunch-backed old man. ¡°We need him to avoid the gazes of Blood Gate.¡±

    ¡°But he¡¯s pushing it, grandpa. He¡¯s just a lowly outer court disciple of Blood Gate, yet he dared to extort me,¡± Eiran seethed.

    ¡°That¡¯s how the world works, young master. With the asylum of a stronger force, even weak could dance in front of those who are stronger than them.¡±

    ¡°But he¡¯s just an outer court disciple. One that has just embarked on the cultivation path. Are you sure Blood Gate would lock horns with us for a trifling outer court disciple?¡±

    ¡°If it¡¯s others, I wouldn¡¯t be so sure. These days, when I was inquiring about him, I came to know that he is on a crucial mission assigned by Blood Gate. If we kill him now, we would be interfering in Blood Gate¡¯s plans.¡±

    Eiran paused. Things turned out more complicated than expected. Even he didn¡¯t dare to mess up with Blood Gate¡¯s plans. ¡°What¡¯s that mission? Is it about the scroll?¡±

    ¡°No. I don¡¯t know the details, but his mission begins this full moon.¡±

    A week from now. That explains why he is so eager to leave. But Eiran was unwilling to let him go just like that. In all his born days, nobody dared to take advantage of him. He looked at grandpa Clyde. ¡°So we just let him extort us?¡±

    ¡°Of course not. Since he is so cocky being a Blood Gate disciple, we should let the Blood Gate decide his fate.¡±

    ¡°You mean?¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t he asking for money? Let¡¯s give it to him. Give more than he asked. And while giving, let¡¯s record it with the enchanted mirror.¡± Grandpa Clyde smiled then, wrinkles on his face turning into grooves. ¡°And then we should complain about the atrocities Geisha had committed in the past four islands and how he extorted us to the Blood Gate with proof. Given how stringent the Blood Gate is¡­¡±

    Eiran laughed and finished the sentence for the grandpa: ¡°He is doomed.¡±

    *****

    When he reached his room, Ray found himself drenched in sweat. Challenging Eiran like that had been too risky. And he had been on the edge throughout the conversation. Luckily, he managed to pull it off.

    Ray believed he would get the blood vials soon. Then he could start his cultivation.

    Not long later, just as he expected, the maid came to him, carrying two jade boxes and a pouch on a silver platter.

    She placed the platter on the table and knelt, shivering. ¡°Young master Geisha, our lord Eiran sent everything you¡¯ve requested: ten vials of best grade blood essence of the dragon and basaltic turtle, and a hundred thousand spirit grains. In return, our lord implored you to not instigate them on the destruction of four isles.¡±

    Ray found it odd at the note of pleading in her tone, and her behavior was a bit off too. Why was she kneeling and shivering?

    But the mention of the additional reward ¡ª a handsome one ¡ª got all his attention.

    Hundred thousand spirit grains? Ray raised his eyebrows in surprise. Was Eiran¡¯s head kicked by a donkey or what? He never requested for spirit grains.

    No matter. If Eiran had too many spirit grains to carry around, Ray was glad to share the burden.

    Ray took the reward and shooed the maid away. Once she was out of his earshot, he stuffed the jade boxes into pockets of his robes and walked out of the pagoda.

    With these vials, he could begin his cultivation. The first step of cultivation should be tread carefully. There were a lot of factors to consider. And for this, he needed some peace of mind which he wouldn¡¯t get if he stayed in the pagoda full of people he wanted to slaughter.

    Also, he didn¡¯t know what would ensue once he began the cultivation. If something gave him away, he was dead meat.

    Ray carefully picked his way to the gully he often went whenever he wanted some time for himself.

 Chapter 9: Cultivation

    Under the watchful gazes of the moon and many stars, Ray wove his way to the outskirts of the Chiura Forest.

    He had been to here many times than he could count, but never in the night. Word was that the forest came to life once the almighty sun closed his eyes. That the flesh-eating trees would swing their branches to whip up a gentle breeze to attract the hikers ¡ª to wring their head and gobble them up, of course. That some chimeras ¡ª such as a leopard with horns, a rabbit with blood-stained needle-like teeth, a fox with wings ¡ª would begin the hunt for quarry.

    Gotten familiar with the thick forest, Ray thought it had no more surprises for him. But now, he began to have second thoughts about it. He realized the forest got a new face for the night.

    The forest was strangely still and eerily silent. Crickets didn¡¯t chirp, leaves didn¡¯t rustle. There was no breeze. It was as if the world itself froze. And yet, Ray heard the branches sway ¡ª like a slow, chilling creak of a door. All the tales about the Chihura Forest he had brushed off came rushing back, haunting.

    Ray¡¯s heart pounded hard against his chest. His steps quickened. The fallen leaves and tiny branches snapped and crackled at the weight of his feet. It only spiked up his heart beet even more. His furry moccasins were only good on the hard land. He hurriedly collected the moccasins and began to walk on toes.

    Luckily, the hideout wasn¡¯t far. It was a tree cave with a slit of an opening, but inside, it was big enough to host four grown men. Ray crawled in through the slit. He groped for the wooden pad he made in the darkness and closed the cave. Only then did he heaved a sigh of relief, wiping the pool of sweat over his brows with the back of his hand.

    Things had gotten a bit spooky.

    But no matter. Once he successfully cultivated, he would be able to blast through all the enigmas this damnable forest had in its store.

    He whisked out the wooden box and contained the blood vials. The dragon blood was bluish and basaltic turtle¡¯s brownish. With these, he could change his destiny.

    Blood was the essential part of a body. It decided the race you belonged to. It dictated your physical growth. Pretty much every physical quality was directly or indirectly affected by the blood.

    And this blood generated from the bone marrow.

    There were many methods to improve the blood marrow, but no technique would ever be able to change the very nature of the bone marrow from that of a human¡¯s to a beast¡¯s. Actually, such a situation had never occurred. However, Ray¡¯s spirit, with its tenacious will, managed to alter his bone marrow at its roots which was why the old ghost called it a miracle. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    Ray couldn¡¯t help but wonder about his future prospects. Beats and humans had different cultivation systems. Humans needed spirits to sense the chi, but beasts didn¡¯t. By birth, they were graced with an ability to sense chi.

    And now, he was going to get a beast body and yet retain his spirit body!

    If he could cultivate in both of them without any problem, he could wipe the floors with anyone that was in the same cultivation realm as him. But if they gave him trouble, his cultivation might become stagnant. He didn¡¯t know if it was a curse or a blessing.

    Ray shook his head. Now was not the time to worry about this. Out of the several techniques he knew of, he picked out the most harshest and efficient one: Marrow Forging Technique.

    He took out the needle which had the length of a palm. He drove it in at his hips till it pierced through the bone, past the spongy bones. The pain was astronomical. His teeth chattered, and his body drenched in sweat. But he managed to bear it.

    The other end of the needle was a funnel. He picked up a vial and poured the bluish blood essence in and then the brownish blood essence. He repeated his actions in several locations. By the time he was done, he lay paralyzed on the ground, shivering and panting.

    He continuously circulated the blood according to the Marrow Forging Technique. The blood essence was improvising the bone marrow like a weapon forged in the lava. It melted the bone marrow, purified it and remolded it.

    The whole process was tormenting, to say the least.

    Gradually, his body got accustomed to the changes. And Ray sensed the power in his blood.

    Soon, he sensed tiny colorful spots around him even with his eyes closed. Each spot gave him a different feeling. Some warm, some cold, some gentle, some harsh¡­ his eyes sparkled with excitement. He knew this was chi. Now he could sense chi. He could cultivate!

    For the first time, the tattoos on his back moved. He couldn¡¯t see them, but he could feel them.

    The dragon and turtle raised their heads and roared. Their roar tore through the tree and rippled across the forest and echoed throughout the island. Majestic and arrogant, it was like a declaration of the advent of the supreme being.

    The sky changed colors. Earth shook. Countless hearts shuddered.

    His spirit, the primal spirit, was awakened.

    The tattoos opened their mouth and gulped the chi around him. The surrounding chi stirred and poured into him, swirling. It stormed into his spirit body and settled in his dantian. And like that, Ray took the first step into the path of immortality.

    His cultivation began to rise. Spirit Opening Realm initial stage. Spirit opening Realm initial stage peak. Spirit opening realm middle stage¡­ It shot all the way up to the peak of Spirit Opening Realm late stage.

    Ray¡¯s eyes moistened. How many years did he dream of this day? How much humiliation and pain did he endure to feel the faintest bit of chi inside him?

    And now it was there. Not in bits and pieces but in streams and rivers.

    Ray sobbed. Dada, I did it. I can cultivate now. And I can personally avenge you. Just wait.

    The day he dreamed of had come. He grew light-headed with joy. His heart was aflutter.

    Soon, he calmed down and inspect the changes in the body. Just then¡ª

    Bang!

    A gigantic claw swiped the tree. Ray was blown away along with the splinters. His skin scraped against the hard ground and his innards were rattled.

    He coughed up mouthful blood. Through the swirling dry leaves and dust, he saw the attacker.

    The leopard with horns!

    With the size of a big bull, it dwarfed Ray by quite a margin. Its steely eyes settled on him even when it was circling around for a clean strike. Even on the spread of fallen leaves, its paws made no sound. Its strangest feature was the antlers¡­ they looked as if they were hewn out of steel with blade-like tines.

    Its growl rumbled through him.

    Ray¡¯s heart was drumming against his chest. For a moment, he fell into a freezing hell. The beast came for him and he had no idea how to fight it off. All these years, he never fought. What do I do? What do I do?

    The beast didn''t give him any time to consider. It jumped at him and swiped.

 Chapter 10: First Kill

    Ray ducked and rolled to a side instinctively. The beast glided past him.

    Ray calmed down. Even if he didn¡¯t have weapons and cultivation techniques, he was a cultivator now. He had strength to defend himself.

    He crouched and prepared for the next attack of the beast. The leopard turned and grunted in dissatisfaction for failing to deal a lethal blow to him. It began circling again, looking for a chance to pounce on him.

    Ray observed his foe carefully. Its front paws were much longer than his: if they both threw a punch he would be hitting air while it could crush his head. If he had to deal a blow, he had to get close to it. Closer than the safe distance.

    If he had to deal with it, he had to immobilize the beast¡¯s front paws first.

    Ray picked up a wooden splinter and ran at it. The beast paused for a beat, seemingly taken aback by his charge. The next moment, it threw its claw at him. Ray expected it. His left hand went up to defend his head and his right nailed the splinter into the beasts arm slightly below its paw, between the two sturdy bones.

    Ray was thrown aside. His arm felt numb but he fared far better than his foe who was grunting in pain, limping.

    Unlike the tigers, who used both arms to fight, lions and leopards used one arm: the dominant arm. And now the leopard¡¯s dominant arm was injured.

    Ray rubbed his numb arm and eyed his foe. The beast growled at him, this time more menacing than ever. If he had been only a food before, he was an object of revenge now. It was set on killing him at any cost, Ray knew it. He didn¡¯t intend to back down either.

    The series of exchanges greatly boosted his confidence.

    He charged at his foe, and the beast lunged at him. Both exchanged several blows. With each blow, the leopard¡¯s breathing grew haggard while Ray got excited. His moments became fluid.

    The beast threw its good claw at him. Ray gracefully swirled on his feet. He warded off the claw his left hand and his right elbow dealt a severe blow to the beast¡¯s lower jaw.

    Followed by an audible crunch, the beast was thrown to a side. The leopard whimpered and limped away. Ray laughed. Fighting felt good. He had no intention to chase it. Though he could kill it, he didn¡¯t want it to become his first kill. He already had an idle goal.

    Thinking of that person, his eyes became glacial.

    Behind him, the leaves rustled and from the shadows, Eiran and his guards emerged. ¡°What happened here, brother Geisha?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. When I came to check it, I was interfered by a beast.¡± Ray knew his cultivation caused quite a disturbance. And he was glad he didn¡¯t foolishly begin his cultivation in the pagoda.

    ¡°A stupid beast held the assassin apprentice for so long?¡± Eiran cocked an eyebrow in disdain. Then he turned to the hunch-backed old man beside him. ¡°What do you think grandpa? Is it a treasure or some reclusive cultivator?¡±

    Grandpa Clyde shook his head. ¡° I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a treasure. It¡¯s most likely a beast¡¯s bloodline awakening or a technique cultivated by an expert at least at Spirit Gestating Realm.¡±

    Eiran face grew heavy at the implication. ¡°If an expert has come to this shit-heap of an island, he must have some purpose.¡± His face scrunched up all over. ¡°It¡¯s most likely the map we¡¯re looking for.¡±

    Grandpa Clyde nodded. ¡°Young master, we should leave. If the expert knew we¡¯re here for the same treasure he is looking for¡­¡± The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡®We¡¯re dead meat¡¯ the words left unsaid.

    Eiran clenched his fists and flew away. The rest of the guards followed him, leaving Ray alone.

    Ray was at dismay. He, an expert at Spirit Gestating Realm? Isn¡¯t your imagination a bit too wild?

    He smiled at this happy mistake. Now, Eiran would leave this island for sure. And the islanders were safe from his proverbial maws.

    He shook his head. Sometimes being too smart wasn¡¯t a good thing.

    On his way back, he got familiar with his strength. He estimated he had about seven hundred stones of strength typical for any Spirit Opening Realm cultivator. He was amazed that his thin frame could hold that much strength.

    This was the power of chi.

    *****

    Ray reclined in a plushy chair inside the tent far away from the noises of the Mirantel City, savoring the taste of the warm herbal tea. The tea was particularly delicious for a herbal brew with an almost impossible blend of thick spiciness with the sweetness of honey.

    Then, there was a knock followed by a servant¡¯s voice. ¡°Milord, the person you¡¯ve asked is here.¡±

    The guards at the entryway looked at him for orders. Ray just nodded and waved his hand. They opened the door and walked out. Then, he walked in. The person he chose for his first kill.

    With a bent spine, bowed head, bunched shoulders, he looked unusually docile than what Ray knew of him. Both his hands twined loosely in front of his chest in servitude. He sported a silk robe which was considered luxurious for the island folks just to not to be an eyesore to Geisha. On his lips played a flattering smile.

    The Kein in front of him was vastly different from the arrogant, cheeky Kein Ray knew of. Prideless and spineless.

    ¡°You look as grand as always, Your Grace.¡± Kein bowed low. ¡°Did I prove myself to be useful?¡±

    ¡°That I do.¡± Ray nodded. ¡°About the information, I checked up on that Ray brat you¡¯ve spoken of, but I didn¡¯t find anything. I came to know you didn¡¯t get along with that brat. Did you, perhaps, use my hand to deal with him?¡±

    Kein froze and began shivering about the implication. He fell to his knees. ¡°Milord, even if I had the balls of steel, I never dare to deceive you.¡±

    ¡°Oh, then are you accusing me of my inability to check up that brat?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t dare, Milord. I-I am saying¡­ that Milord is kind-hearted.¡±

    Calling an assassin kind-hearted¡­ Ray was speechless.

    ¡°So, you tell me what should I do then,¡± said Ray.

    ¡°Milord, I think we should torture him.¡±

    ¡°But doing that would alert Eiran. He¡¯d stop me from going after others. If that Ray brat doesn¡¯t have that map, I¡¯d be losing my chance to go after anyone else.¡±

    ¡°Worry not, Milord. I¡¯m certain that he has it.¡±

    Ray cocked his head. ¡°What makes you so sure?¡±

    Kein paused for a good while. ¡°The day before you¡¯ve arrived, I saw Dada giving a scroll to Ray. I¡¯m sure it was the map you¡¯re looking, Milord.¡±

    He followed us!

    Nonetheless, Ray maintained his composure. He was prepared for this meeting. ¡°And you¡¯re telling me this now?¡±

    ¡°Forgive me, Milord.¡± Kein Knocked his forehead against the ground.

    ¡°Your contributions are great, so I¡¯ll forgive you this once. Come. Drink this brew.¡± Ray nodded at the brew filled cup on the table.

    Kein reached the cup cautiously.

    ¡°Tell me, Kein, do you not feel any remorse for betraying the one that had raised you from your childhood?¡±

    Kein¡¯s hands froze.

    ¡°You were an orphan who would¡¯ve begged on the streets if not for Dada. And yet, here you are. Giving away the one thing that Dada gave up his life for. Don¡¯t you feel ashamed?¡±

    Kein looked up at him for the first time. At his eyes which were burning with killing intent. ¡°Y-You are¡­¡±

    He whirled on his butt to run away. But Ray seized the scuff of his neck and leaned forward to meet Kein¡¯s eyes.

    Kein¡¯s pupils shook wildly in panic. ¡°M-Milord¡­¡±

    ¡°Am I? Look at me closely, Kein.¡±

    Ray took off his mask and revealed his face. Kein¡¯s pupils shrank into needles. ¡°How¡­ how could you¡­¡±

    ¡°I got lucky,¡± Ray said, pressing the sharp edge against Kein¡¯s throat.

    ¡°Ray¡­ let me go. I-I just wanted to live. Please. I want to live.¡±

    ¡°Yet, I want you dead.¡± Saying that Ray drove the knife into his throat.

    Blood splashed and flowed along with the knife, to his hands, to his arms. From there to the ground.

    Kein gurgled. His hands went up to claw Ray¡¯s hands. He flailed his limbs to get free from Ray¡¯s grip. Too bad for Kein that Ray was a cultivator now.

    Ray moved the knife around, cutting through the tendons and hard bones until he cut Kein¡¯s head off.

    Kein¡¯s head rolled on the ground and his body weltered in his own blood until it went cold. Somehow, even when his head rolled away, Kein¡¯s eyes seemed to fixed on Ray with hatred.

    Running to a corner, Ray threw up.

    Throughout the process, Ray had been suppressing nausea that stirred his stomach. There had been many times he wished to take his knife back. But he persisted.

    The world was a cruel place. It had no place for kindness, hesitation. To survive, he had to be decisive. He should not show mercy to his enemies.

    Ray clapped and his guards stormed in. ¡°Clean up this place. Threw his body to the hounds in the kennel. That damned mutt actually threw up in my place. Also, send me his head in a box.¡±

    Then he walked out with a weird sense of accomplishment.

    Today, he got his first kill. He became a man.

 Chapter 11: Leave Everything to Me

    ¡°Are you the one that disposed of Bald Brutes leader¡¯s body?¡± asked Ray.

    The thin old man answered, ¡°Yes, Milord.¡±

    ¡°Bring me there.¡±

    The old man paused. ¡°Milord?¡±

    Ray cast a flat glance at him. ¡°Bring me to where you¡¯ve disposed of the body.¡±

    ¡°Young lord ordered me to feed the body to the beasts, and I did so. I¡¯m afraid even bones won¡¯t be left of his body, Milord.¡±

    ¡°Did I ask you about that? Bring. Me. There,¡± Ray stressed. It stirred him to hear what might happen to Dada¡¯s body. Eiran told the Bald Brutes that they could have Dada¡¯s body as long as he got the map but, in fact, he had Dada¡¯s body fed to the animals in rage right after he took Dada¡¯s body.

    Suddenly, the old man knelt down. ¡°Forgive me, Milord. Please spare my life.¡±The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    Ray frowned. He was impatient to see what left of Dada¡¯s remains. He wanted to build a grave for Dada. But this old man was so annoying. ¡°What¡¯s the matter?¡±

    ¡°Milord, Dada had saved my daughter¡¯s life, so¡­¡±

    ¡°So?¡±

    The old man pressed his forehead to the ground and spat, ¡°So I buried his body. I beg you, Milord, forgive me.¡±

    ¡°Hurry up. Bring me there.¡± Ray got excited.

    Soon, the old man brought him to a desolate area. He pointed at the slight bulge on the plain land and said, ¡°There.¡±

    Ray gave a tight hug to the old man, leaving him baffled. ¡°You can go now. And remember, you must not tell anyone about this.¡±

    The old man nodded repeatedly and left.

    Ray reached Dada¡¯s grave and sat there, inhaling a deep breath. The cool breeze caressed his cheeks. The ground beneath him was warm. His hands reached Dada¡¯s feet and began stroking gently.

    Myriad emotions welled up in his heart. He had the urge to cry them out. But he became a man now, and a man wouldn¡¯t cry. Also, he didn¡¯t want to let Dada worry about him. So he assured, ¡°Dada, don¡¯t worry about me. You know, I am a man now. I can manage myself.¡±

    He leaned down to kiss Dada¡¯s feet. ¡°Be at ease.¡±

    He went to the head area and began digging slightly above. Then he took out Kein¡¯s head and Geisha¡¯s from the storage ring, and threw them into the pits.

    He closed his eyes.

    ¡°Dada, don¡¯t bother about things like vengeance. I¡¯ll avenge you. All those guys who had a connection to your death ¡ª directly or indirectly ¡ª I¡¯ll bury their heads here. So don¡¯t worry. And don¡¯t bother about your unfulfilled dream either. I¡¯ll fulfill your dream.

    ¡°Leave everything to me. And rest in peace.

    ¡°Take care, Dada.¡±