《Heart Of Storm》


 Prologue 1

    Cross-legged, Harrow sat in his sanctum, waiting for his death. In front of him, a seemingly nonsensical diagram of dots and lines glowed faintly, yet this diagram was far from nonsensical, for this was the image of the Universe.


    He did not have to wait long.


    The dying cries of his disciples announced the arrival of his enemy. A man with red skin, the crimson of fresh blood, clad in armour of midnight. A blade almost as long and just as broad as Harrow was hefted on his shoulder, its metal the colour of bleached bone. Each step he took cracked the marble of the sanctum floor.


    Even now, Harrow could still respect Jeders¡¯ sense of style. He¡¯d never admit it, but he¡¯d always liked the colour scheme of the Aspect of Strife. Yes, red and black was a bit clich¨¦, but it always seemed like a nice match to him nonetheless. Better than his own whites and greys, at least, but he supposed being the Aspect of Peace meant wearing boring colours till the end of time. Jeders¡¯ physique was large and bulky, easily twice Harrows¡¯ width, and he was stood easily two metres tall, but still Harrow towered over him by several heads thanks to his disproportionately long, skeletal limbs. After visiting the origin point of Azorabe, Harrow had always compared himself to a stick insect with four limbs, a product of the lower gravity of his own origin point.


    Well, better to get it over with. ¡°Tell Wu Tian that I¡¯m very impressed,¡± Harrow¡¯s voice sounded, surprisingly deep and resonant. ¡°The scripts he used to overcome my boundaries and bind my brethren were most impressive. I look forward to studying them when I¡¯m done with you.¡±


    Jeder¡¯s face split into a grin to reveal rows of sharpened canines, and when he spoke, it was a whisper that tore at the soul yet carried across battlefields. ¡°We both know you¡¯re not getting out of this alive, Harrow. Now stop stalling and face your death.¡± Bending his knees slightly, he grasped his sword tightly and swung it in a cleaving arc, the blade rending apart Space itself as it sliced through the air before disappearing into Harrows¡¯ hastily constructed pocket dimension. As Jeder dispelled the dimension, Harrow performed several quick gestures and formed a runic circle directly over the head of Jeder, a high-pitched whine cutting through the air as it fired a bright beam of scorching light. Even as the light abated, revealing an angry Strife in smoking armour, Harrow was going through the motions for his next technique.He never finished it.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    The knife slid through his ribs and he let out a wheezing cough, stumbling away to face this new intruder. Unlike his companion, the Aspect of Greed was not bedecked in full plate, instead opting for long, flowing robes and a large tome buckled to his waist. A goatee hung from the chin of Wu Tian, and his pale white skin stood in stark contrast from Harrows¡¯ own grey skin. On his origin point, Wu Tian was said to have been a great warrior, but upon Ascension he had chosen to forego his tools of war and take up the tools of the scholar, for reasons he had never disclosed. Even then, the man was a much better combatant than Harrow.And his arrival crushed whatever dregs of hope Harrow still had.


    His wound was seeping his strength rapidly, Harrow noted.The blade was definitely poisoned, and a poison even he was not familiar with. A spectacular feat, given how he knew almost all the poisons of the several million origin points they sought to guide. He groaned as he collapsed onto the floor, his hand pressed against his side. Wu Tian was saying something, but his voice sounded blurry and far away.


    It didn¡¯t matter. Of every Aspect, Harrow had always been the one who understood Time the most. He had enveloped himself in its flow, had teased apart its intricacies and had woven it. He had seen the many paths, he had chosen, and he had prepared. Using the last vestiges of his strength, he went through the motions for his own modified Sanctuary Enclosure, focusing his technique on origin point two hundred and seventy-one and channeling it through the diagram. Wu Tians¡¯ own origin point.How nice, that his own replacement may one day come from his killers¡¯ home.


    He felt his hand sliced off at the wrist to shouts of alarm, but the deed was done. Harrow closed his eyes for the last time and joined the Cycle.


    Wu Tian grunted with disgust. Even before he died, that damnable Aspect of Peace had managed to spit in his face one last time before death. His own companion, the Aspect of Strife, had proven to be close to useless in this whole endeavor. Glaring at Jeder, he studied the diagram and examined the boundary field now enclosing his own origin point. It was an intricate, complex script, and one that would take even him years to break.


    But it would still be broken. All Harrow had donewas buy them time.


    Harrows¡¯ final act may have been to seal off the origin point to the Aspects, but their influence could still go where their physical selves could not. He nodded to Jeder, who strode over and began preparing for the next stage of their plan. Wu Tian was not young, but even by standards of the Aspects Jeder was old. Old enough to have been there when his origin point was created. Old enough to plant a few nasty surprises that had long since been forgotten even during Wu Tians¡¯ own time.


    Surprises they would now unleash.


    They both knew the enemy Aspects would arrive soon, so Jeder worked quickly. Forcing his will through the minute cracks of the field, ancient creatures stirred, and the land prepared to be roused to war.

 Prologue 2

    Tamachaku knew, even before his messenger had started talking. There was only one reason for the panic and fear he could sense practically radiating from the man.


    ¡°Warlord, the crops- ¡°


    ¡°Have died, yes. Was the plague contained?¡± An impatient gesture from Tamachaku made the messenger shake off his gaping mouth of surprise.


    ¡°Yes, Warlord. The fields were burnt once the plague was discovered. But- ¡°


    ¡°Dismissed, warrior.¡±


    As the messenger hurried off, undoubtedly to panic over this latest development in the company of friends and family, Tamachaku pondered. That was their third crop this year to have failed, and their stores of food were already running low. Without this harvest, many would starve in the fast approaching winter.


    The Warlord of a nomadic people, who now had begun to set down their roots, Tamachaku gazed over his pride and joy, the greatest of his accomplishments. Nothing more than a collection of huts, built of dirt and mud, yet standing for so much more. Smoke rose from the campfires dotted throughout the growing village as his people cooked the last of their supplies, most kept unaware of the growing issue with the crops.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    It had started so well, all those years ago. Uniting the warring tribes of the Bayati people under a single banner, a man painting battlefields red with the blood of his enemies. Forcing the ignorant and short-sighted chieftains under his heel, crushing them when they resisted.


    And his dream had been achieved. He had created a home for his people, a place where they could be safe. Learning the ways of the southern men had allowed his people to grow, to live and not just survive. No longer did his people flee from the harsh winters, now that they had a roof over their heads and a fire to keep the cold out. No longer did great warriors die in meaningless skirmishes, now being able to train the next generation to take their places.


    And now everything was falling apart. And he was powerless to stop it.


    Wisps of red, crimson and bright, unseen and unnoticed. They spoke, and Tamachaku was filled with clarity, for the minds of even the mightiest of mortals are pliable to a gods¡¯ whims.


    He knew now why they had suffered so. Theirs was a people of war, who took what they needed. Yet he had brought them low, in his dreams of peace and home. He had forgotten their roots, for to them there was no peace, only stagnation. To them, the battlefield was their home.


    Turning his gaze south, he saw nothing but empty sand, but what reached his eyes did not matter. For towards the south was the weak southern men, who had to rely on walls of stone for protection, their people turned weak and soft while his own people starved. They had grown arrogant and complacent, thinking the northern ¡°barbarians¡± were quelled.


    He would soon show them how wrong they were.

 Chapter 1

    ¡°3¡­2¡­1¡­Lift!¡±


    Straining to carry the load of fruit, I glare at Brother across the top of the basket.


    ¡°Easy money, you said. Twenty coppers for a single trip, you said. So why are we lifting this stupid thing halfway across the village?¡±


    Despite the effort, Brother cracks a grin at me. ¡°Come on Yang, stop being a baby. It¡¯s not THAT far.¡±


    ¡°And the girls say you¡¯re not THAT ugly, but that doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯re not. Ugly, that is.¡±


    I say that, but Brother really is quite good-looking. Square jaw, strong chin, tall and broad shouldered; if the rumours are true he¡¯s quite sought after in the village.


    ¡°You do know we look alike, so really, you¡¯re insulting yourself here.¡±


    I wish that were true. While our features are somewhat similar, my jaw is sharper, my build skinnier, my nose larger, and he towers over me by half a head.


    Whatever, it¡¯s not height that matters, but length.


    It¡¯s half an hour later that we deposit the basket at the door of the merchant, who smiles and chats with Brother, while I stand awkwardly to the side and stare at my feet to avoid any eye contact.


    Since we were children, it¡¯s always just been the two of us. Mother and Father died when I was too young to remember, leaving me in the care of Brother. Now we work as the village help, taking odd jobs whenever possible to scrape by a living.


    It¡¯s not much, but it¡¯s honest work.


    ¡°Well, well, well. If it isn¡¯t the little baby sheep.¡± I groan inwardly as I hear the voice, looking up to see three youths striding towards me. Sorry, did I say stride? ¡®Strut¡¯ would be a better word, with their chests jutting out like peacocks. Well, calling Hai and his cronies peacocks may be too insulting towards peacocks.


    Besides, what¡¯s so wrong about being a sheepanyway? They could at least have come up with a better insult. Sheepcan be pretty cute, can¡¯t they? Although I¡¯d really rather not have Hai calling me cute. Oh Heavens, I need that image out of my head now.


    Seeing my lack of an answer as permission to continue their abuse, Hai pokes me in my chest with a pudgy finger, enough to send me stumbling slightly. The son of a relatively well-off merchant, Hai took it to mean he could tread on (figuratively, but sometimes literally) the other kids in the village and rely on his rich dad to smooth things over when things got rough, usually involving a lot of thinly veiled threats and not-so-thinly veiled threats, depending on how well-off said kids were. Most of the time, he got his way.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Hey! Leave my brother alone!¡±


    Muahahaha. ¡®Most¡¯ of the time, but luckily Brother Dearest is big enough to discourage even Hai from messing with him. With a sneer, he turns around and leaves, Brother glaring daggers into his back.


    ¡®You do have to learn to take care of yourself, you know. I¡¯m not always going to be able to protect you.¡±


    I glance up at him, the bulky pack on my back and the narrow path making it difficult to do much else. Our last job for each day is carrying groceries up the mountain to Old Fu, one of our most loyal (and also one of our most grumpy) customers.


    ¡°I do, but how? It¡¯s not like I could beat all three of them in a fight together, and even if I did, I¡¯d have to deal with Hai¡¯s father.¡±


    ¡°Maybe Old Fu can teach you how to fight. I heard he was a soldier in the Army back in the day.¡± Truly, he must be desperate, for him to suggest me taking that old man as a mentor.


    ¡°That old man won¡¯t even say thanks for his groceries. What makes you think he¡¯ll teach me how to fight?¡±


    Brother sighs as he gazes off into the distance. The mountain track we¡¯re on is one of my favourite places in the region, a little bubble of calm and quiet tucked away from the village. The setting sun provides a reddish glow to the Three Fangs, three peaks marking the village border and casting their shadow on the thatch huts below. A small group of opulent manors sit near the edge of the village, the property of the village elite, merchants who wanted big houses but decided that land in the capital was too expensive and decided to take a more ¡®hands-on¡¯ approach to ¡®ensuring the quality of their wares¡¯. Somewhere in one of those, Hai is undoubtedly stuffing his face with some rare beastie. While we climb up a mountain to deliver food to a cranky old man.


    Life can be so unfair sometimes.


    As we slam our baskets at the foot of the cabin, Old Fu comes out to make payment to Brother. He looks old enough to be our great-grandfather, with a face creased with wrinkles and browned by the sun, a drooping white moustache hanging from his upper lip that was probably fashionable in his youth but now reminds me of a catfish. Even so, his back is straight and his movements graceful enough to give me pause when judging his age. A master of communication, several grunts and a nod are enough to convey to us the message:


    ¡°Good job, same time tomorrow.¡±


    Or at least I hope that¡¯s what it means. I¡¯d rather not make the climb tomorrow and find out he meant to tell us to stop the deliveries.


    Settling back in our little hut with a series of groans, we settle into our meditative positions. Our last ritual of every day, strengthening our Cores and forging the reisen within into pathways throughout our body. With this, our Cores grew larger, our reisen purer. Sufficiently developed Cores were what allowed Imperial Warriors to fight the way they did, and reaching certain levels were said to give the person immortality.


    Not that it really applied to us, however. Our lack of elixirs and resources made developing our Cores a slow and arduous task. But even then, our meagre pools still helped strengthen us slightly, increasing our strength and stamina and stopping us from falling sick so easily.


    It wasn¡¯t an easy life, but it was simple. I would give everything to have it back again.

 Chapter 2

    It was afternoon when they came. A company of ten soldiers, carrying banners adorned with the Imperial Crest of a golden dragon on a red background, aboard an Imperial airship. Nine of them were dressed in the armor of common soldiers, but the last wore more ornate armour and a helm shaped in the form of a tiger¡¯s head, signifying a Captain of the Imperial army. Their airship floated high in the air, easily visible to all in the village; a beacon of their arrival that effectively had everyone running to inform their friends and family.


    By the time they entered the village, the whole village was roused to meet them, as was custom. Even Old Fu had left his mountain to see this. Whispers through the crowd filled the air, for it was rare to see a Captain so far out here. Even the lowest ranked soldiers could clear out our village with ease, for their Cores were trained far beyond any of ours. And if the rumors were true, a single Captain was easily worth ten soldiers. It was easy to picture them slaughtering their way through the village if things got ugly, for layers of leather and armour made even the skinniest of them look bulkier than Brother, and they moved with a subtle grace I hadn¡¯t seen anyone else match, with the exception of maybe Old Fu. Actually, from their stiff, straight-backed postures, it was now easy to see the similarities in Old Fu.


    Our village chief, Wen, was the first to step forward in greeting as the rest of us knelt. A savvy businessman in his youth, Wen elected to stay in the village and manage the day-today issues within the village when he felt he was getting too old to continue his business. It¡¯s quite a good arrangement; Wen is kind to us peasants, the merchants respect one of their own and none of us need to listen to angry merchants complain about how they should be compensated for dirtying their robes by jostling a filthy peasant. Back stooped with age, Wen was practically half the height of the Captain.


    Well, saves him from having to bow, I guess.


    ¡®By order of the Emperor,¡¯ the Captain cuts off Wen even as he begins to speak. ¡®Any man and woman below the age of thirty is to have his or her Core tested and, if found sufficient, to be drafted into the Imperial Army. I will remind you that it is your duty, and honor, to serve if you should be found worthy, and anyone chosen who tries to escape from this honor will have be executed along with any relatives they might have.¡¯ He sounds bored, as though he¡¯s lost count of how many times he¡¯s had to give this speech. Honestly, he probably has. His soldiers are sent into the village, to scour the homes for anyone who might be hiding from the recruitment drive, but it really isn¡¯t necessary. Most youths I know would jump at the chance to join the Army, being the fastest way to glory.


    ¡®Most¡¯, however, does not include me. Honor, my ass. Join the Army and fight for an Emperor who doesn¡¯t even care for the wellbeing of us lowly peasants? Bleed for an Empire who rules by essentially monopolizing the elixir market to stay in power? I¡¯d rather not.


    But I don¡¯t say any of this out loud, no matter how much I want to. We play the part of the meek and cowed peasants well when it comes our turn, mainly because we have a lot of practice being meek and cowed peasants. The Captain lays his hand just above my navel, right above my Core, and closes his eyes. I feel my Core heat up and causing slight discomfort, but it passes quickly as the Captain opens his eyes again and fails me.


    Well, that¡¯s a relief.


    Brothers¡¯ turn, and the same scene plays out. Except for a crucial difference. He passes.


    And I feel the floor drop out from below my feet as I start to realize the implications.


    Suddenly, I want to take back everything I said. I want nothing more than to join the Army. I would fight and bleed on some forsaken piece of land over a meaningless squabble in the name of a cruel and heartless Emperor. Just if it means I don¡¯t have to leave my brother.


    The Captain moves through the rest of the village folk, but I¡¯m too stunned to properly pay attention. Hai doesn¡¯t get chosen, but one of his cronies is. When the last of us is examined, the recruits are given an hour to collect their things.Unlike the others, who make a mad dash back to their homes, Brother doesn¡¯t head back towards our hut, instead making a beeline straight for me. Holding my face in his hands, he stares me in the eyes.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    ¡°Be strong, little brother. Take care of yourself, and I promise I will be back for you.¡±


    I can¡¯t do much else but nod, for my tongue still feels like lead in my mouth, so I stare mutely as brother talks to some of the shopkeepers, extracting promises that they¡¯ll watch over me in exchange for the years of service we¡¯ve provided. I watch as he boards the airship, and as the scripts flare to life and the ship accelerates until it¡¯s out of sight, I realize I never said goodbye.


    Life can change so suddenly.


    I lift the handle of my makeshift wagon, scrapped together from a few pieces of wood and a pair of old discarded wheels I got from Lu, our resident carpenter. Rich merchants meant horse drawn carriages, because Heavens forbid they got their silks dirty by walking. Carriages meant someone had to fix them and keep them maintained, and the parts that broke meant certain little orphans got to continue working even when the only person they cared for in the world had left them behind to fight for a tyrant.


    Deep breaths¡­.


    The basket of fruit I¡¯m towing is, however, a reminder of Brother. I hope he¡¯s doing well, but the fact that messengers to remote villages such as ours can get quite expensive, so I don¡¯t begrudge the fact that I haven¡¯t received any letters from him yet even though it¡¯s been two months since he left.


    Well, I begrudge that fact slightly, but still¡­


    ¡°Oi! Baby sheep!¡±


    ¡­Oh no.


    Yep. There he is, my sworn enemy. Has he put on weight? I think he has put on weight.


    Grinning, Hai steps in front of me. His one remaining flunky remains a few paces back, trying to look intimidating, but it¡¯s somewhat hard to do so when I¡¯m half a head taller than he is. Hai rests one foot on my wagon, his boot caked in mud.


    ¡°I think I stepped in some shit today. Clean my boot off, with your tongue.¡±


    I¡¯d really rather not, so I consider my options. The area we¡¯re in is empty save for the three of us, given how early it is. I could try shouting for help, but I¡¯m not even sure the townsfolk would even help given who Hai¡¯s father is. I could run, but that would mean leaving this basket of fruit and my wagon at their mercy, and I¡¯m pretty sure they¡¯ll do their best to wreck both as much as they can.


    Well, actually¡­


    ¡°Go suck on a dagger, Hai. Even covered in shit, your boot is probably worth more than you are.¡± His mouth has fallen open at my insolence, I see. ¡°I didn¡¯t use my tongue even when I was with your mother last night, what makes you think I¡¯ll use it on you now?¡±


    Wow, that¡¯s an impressive shade of red.


    I drop the handle of my wagon and run while Hai screams at his flunky to chase me. I''m easily able to outpace them given how amazingly out of shape both of them are, but that¡¯s not the point.


    Step one, lead them away from my cargo.


    Step two, hope my head is hard enough, because this is going to hurt¡­


    Slowing my pace so I make sure both of them are able to keep pace with me, I run towards the village market, the most crowded place I can think of. Reaching the market, I see people chatting with stall vendors ahead, and I glance back to see where Hai is. Red faced and panting with breath, yet he¡¯s still able to scream at me. Quite impressive indeed, and his screams are already drawing gazes from the rest of the people. He catches up, as I intended, and abruptly punches me in the face.


    As far as plans go, maybe that wasn¡¯t my best one, but in my defense I was under pressure, alright?


    I walk back to where I left my wagon, bruised and limping. After I¡¯d dropped, the two of my tormenters had decided to hold an impromptu contest to see who could kick me harder. It had lasted for quite a while before someone actually decided to break it up.Well, at least nothing was broken, I think¡­ My wagon, and its cargo, was where I left it, which is nice. That I now have to transport it with painfully bruised legs is not so nice.


    At least now Hai won¡¯t be able to pressure his father to get me evicted or something. Even if he does claim I provoked him, the fact that he beat me up in public should be good enough for Wen to help convince him to drop all grudges.Although I really have to wonder if my dignity was worth the beating. I was relying on my body being somewhat well-built to take their hits, but it does still hurt.


    Making the trek up the mountain is now one of my least favorite parts of the week. I have to carry twice the load without my wagon, which is bad enough, but the walk up is now filled with silence and serves as a stark reminder. I slam my pack on the ground as Old Fu walks out, a raised eyebrow at my black eye and bruising face. As I turn to leave, however, I hear him speak for the first time.


    ¡°Take the pack back down with you, and return with it tomorrow, at dawn.¡±


    His voice is soft and coarse, as if he were hoarse from yelling. I snap back around, but he¡¯s already gone back into the cabin.


    ...Did that sadistic old man just tell me to make this trek again? I consider ignoring him, but even so I do need the money. Cursing him under my breath, I hoist the pack up and make my way down the mountain.

 Chapter 3

    On days like these, Zhang Fu could feel old age slowly creeping up on him in the way his bones creaked with each movement, his breath coming faster with less effort. On these days of cold and mist, his side ached from the old wound he had taken in battle down at the passes of the Shibu mountains, when bandits had ambushed a ¡®civilian¡¯ and found themselves facing the might of an Imperial Captain. That spear of rock that had taken him in the side even as he had set its user aflame had opened a gaping wound that although since healed thanks to his Core, had still served as a stark reminder to his own mortality.


    It had, after all, barely missed his heart, and he had almost died in what was practically a training exercise, fighting vermin in a corner of the Empire. He had always imagined that ache as being a reminder to him to be cautious, and so he had heeded it for many years, retiring to his little bubble of isolation on this mountaintop and living the rest of his life out in peace.


    So why had he ignored it, to decide to train this young man?


    Glancing down at Chen Yang, once a delivery boy, now still a delivery boy but in much pain and on his knees, Zhang Fu snorted. That blow was barely an effort on his part and would have at most winded a soldier, although to be fair a soldier would have a much stronger Core to thank for that. The boy wasn¡¯t completely hopeless, though, he would give him that. He¡¯d shown a remarkable adaptability to his situation already, with a different tactic each time he came swinging. A shame none of them had worked, but this was hardly a fair fight.


    ¡°Get up. You¡¯ve had enough rest by now.¡±


    And so he did, rising up though his legs were shaking. Raising his fists, he stared at Zhang Fu, eyes cold and emotionless, taking in details and formulating a plan of attack.


    He needed to learn, however, that many of his enemies would not give him that time.


    A half step forward and a punch towards his face. The boy flinched and leaned backwards, shifting his center of balance too far back and leaving his stance unable to compensate. Taking the opportunity, Zhang Fu swept his legs from under him, but as the boy fell he rolled away to put some distance between them and got to his feet again. His stance had shifted this time, Zhang Fu noted, his knees more bent and legs held further apart, fists raised from the previous chest-level to now better guard his head. A decent attempt, but that just meant his abdomen was unguarded. A side kick sent his foot crashing into the boys¡¯ stomach and dropping him for what was the seventh time today. He waited for the boy to sit upright.


    Although that amount of groaning truly was excessive. He might have to do something about that.


    ¡°Five minutes. There¡¯s a well behind the house to clean up.¡±


    As the boy nodded gratefully and hobbled off, holding his stomach. As he disappeared, Zhang Fu took the chance to bring his pack into the house, empty the contents on the floor, and fill it with rocks he had gathered the night before just for this occasion, leaving a few vegetables and slices of meat on top of it all. Returning the pack to its original position, he sat and waited for his student.


    GAAAAAAAAAHHHH EVERYTHING HURTS.


    That sadistic old man was born to see me suffer, I¡¯m sure of it. Soldier in the Army? Cheh! I¡¯d sooner believe he were the Imperial torturer. Lifting my shirt, I¡¯m treated to a sight to a mass of bruises, my chest now more purple than pink. Old Fu has ¡®kindly¡¯ decided to restore symmetry to my face; by which I mean he has given me another black eye to match the one Hai gave me yesterday.


    If only I¡¯d known this was what he intended when he told me to come back again today¡­ And to think I¡¯d hesitated to attack him when he first told me to, because what sane person just commands someone to hit them? Not Old Fu, that¡¯s for certain.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    I gulp down the cold water of the well and give thanks to the Heavens for sending us this wonderful drink of the gods, this sweet, sweet nectar. Cupping my hands, I use some of it to rinse my face of the dirt and sweat. Note to self, rolling is an effective tactic for avoiding hits. Has the side effect of getting a mouthful of dirt too, sometimes, but the taste really isn¡¯t that bad once you get used to it.


    Anyway, I should go through the last few bouts, just so I can avoid getting destroyed by that grumpy old man. The second last bout he¡¯d used an interesting tactic, getting me to flinch with a feint and putting me off balance and effectively killing my defense. That¡¯s something I should try to use, I suppose.


    Wait, has it been five minutes already? I really don¡¯t want to see what happens if he gets angry¡­


    I make my way back, and see the old man standing there with hands clasped behind his back. Motioning me over, he moves into a stance. I¡¯m about to prepare for an assault when he speaks.


    ¡°This is called the Placid River Style. It¡¯s a basic style, suited for defense, which is what I suspect you¡¯ll need.¡±


    Left foot forward, left hand thrust forth in a palm strike. Knees bent, center of balance shifts, and I almost see the imaginary opponent he¡¯s fighting with. Now on the other side of the opponent, his right hand snakes upwards and clasps their wrist while he sweeps their legs from beneath them and simultaneously flipping them over his body. Bringing his fist downwards to smash in their face, then drawing his foot backwards and ducking under a blow thrown by another opponent, hoping to catch him by surprise.


    ¡°The Placid River does not rush into the fray, overwhelming opponents by sheer might. It does not dance around the edges of the battle, picking away at your enemies. No, you stay in the center of the battle, yet you do not get hit, for who could ever claim to strike a blow at a river? Weave around your opponents, flow through the cracks in their defenses, and crash against their weak points.¡±


    I¡¯m shaken out of the trance I¡¯d fallen into while watching his mesmerizing movements against his opponents. A few more moves and it¡¯s done, both imaginary opponents lying on the ground. He sets back to his original stance, and this time the command is unspoken, for there is no need for it. I follow his stance as best I can, and he adjusts it before moving on to the next part of the style.


    When we¡¯re done, we repeat. Again. And again. And again.


    I lose track of time, the sun setting before I know it, and my body now knows the motions almost by heart. And now, the command to stop, and Fu settles into a stance opposite me.


    He opens with a punch towards my face, but I block it instinctively. Only for his leg to catch me in the chest and send me rolling.


    ¡°Again. And this time, try using what I¡¯ve been teaching you.¡±


    Well, it¡¯s not particularly easy to use something I just learnt IN A DAY in an actual fight, but since when is Fu reasonable?


    Dusting myself off, I settle into the Placid River stance. Again, he opens with a punch, but this time instead of blocking I duck under. His left leg swings in a cleaving arc, but I step further inwards towards him and putting myself in a position such that the kick cannot reach me.


    His right knee can, however, and he¡¯s all too happy to demonstrate that with an impressively quick shift of balance. I reel back, stunned, and as I¡¯m about recover my stance he motions to call the fight to an end. Clasping my hands as way of formal thanks, I bow to my new teacher.


    Zhang Fu watched the boy make his way down the mountain with the promise to return the next day, and he felt a small hint of pride. The boy learnt quickly, and if he kept this pace up for a year he had the potential to make a name for himself as one of the most capable martial artists of his generation, although he would also need to develop his Core further and learn one of the reisen arts if he were to seriously compete with the upper echelons of those warriors.


    It didn¡¯t take much to see how some of the children of the richer merchants behaved, with their parents spoiling them and fixing their mistakes. It was clear to him, in all the years the brothers had served him, to see how the elder brother was the one with the confidence and the drive to keep his younger brother from harm. To see how the bruises had only started appearing only after the elder brother had left, and to put the facts together.


    Why did Zhang Fu decide to train this young man? Because he owed the brothers, for respecting his seclusion. Because the elder brother had made him promise, and a soldier did not break his promises without being willing to cast aside his honor, and Zhang Fu still had plenty of that left. And, within it all, because even now he was at heart the Captain who fought off bandits and barbarians for the people, and he could not in good conscience turn away a boy in need of help.


    THAT FILTHY OLD MAN! He made me carry rocks? Really? Who even does that?


    And no, the food he left there does NOT make up for it!


    Well, maybe it does. It¡¯s enough for a few days, and if I just work out a schedule I should be able to earn enough to cover for my living wages after that runs out. Curling up in my cot, I fall asleep faster than I ever have before.

 Chapter 4

    His right leg comes crashing down, but I sidestep it and thrust my palm forward, keeping my knees slightly bent to give me leverage. Dodging my palm strike, he closes in and attempts to grab me for a throw, but I leap backwards and fall into the Rising Gale stance. In answer to me, Master Fu slips into the Dancing Inferno stance, and beckons me forward.


    I dash across the ground and feint a strike towards his head, but he doesn¡¯t fall for it and instead catches the real strike I attempt at his midsection. Pushing him back with one of the sweeping kicks that features so prominently in this style, I switch to the Placid River as he comes for me with fast, frantic attacks. Short, rapid strikes accented by low kicks and elbow strikes form the core of his style, and I weave through his attacks while looking for an opening. He attempts to knee me in the face, but I¡¯ve learnt since then and dodge, before catching his kick heading towards the side of my head.


    He still has some tricks, however, and he quickly shows me by stamping down hard on my foot and taking advantage of the distraction to punch me in the face.


    He calls for a stop as I reel backwards, blinking stars out of my eyes. Two weeks of this hellish sparring and I¡¯m actually able to hold my own for a few minutes now, which is a huge step forwards in my opinion. Not in his, however, as he shows by somehow making each session even worse than the last.


    Why do I still come to his lessons? I mean, I¡¯m grateful to him and all, but if he¡¯s trying to teach me to protect myself I think I could take on Hai by this point. In fact, I could probably take on both him and his minion at the same time by now.


    Ah, right. Because I don¡¯t really know how to turn him down. Curse my inability to talk to humans.


    Wait, are we going for another round?


    Oh no, we¡¯re going for another round. Quick, say thank you, but you want out NOW, and-


    Wait, why are you getting into a stance? Nonononono-


    By the time I make my way down the mountain, my entire body aches and I want to die.


    Sadistic old man kept going for five more rounds after that. How did he even have enough stamina to do that with his age? Granted, he¡¯s taught me a lot of new stuff, but by the last few rounds I just wanted to collapse on all fours and let him have his way instead of fighting back if only to make it easier.


    And my traitorous brain was no help either. All you had to do was say that one sentence and we could have stopped this suffering, you know? But now we have to go back up there, tomorrow morning, at dawn, with a sack full of rocks because he needs me to ¡®train my body¡¯.


    I¡¯m so distracted by my internal complaints that I walk straight into someone. As I¡¯m about to apologize, I realize who it is.


    Ah fuck.


    ¡°Well, well, well. Seems like our baby sheep has forgotten his manners, hasn¡¯t he? You¡¯d think he¡¯d learn after we beat it into him the last time, but it seems he¡¯s a bit slow and must be taught the lesson again, hmm?¡± Hai smiles at me as his minion chortles behind him. Heavens only know how that sentence was funny. ¡°Now you¡¯ve dirtied my robes, and they¡¯re very expensive, you know? So I¡¯m going to need you to pay for the cost of washing them, hmm?¡±


    Clearly, he just wants me to give him an excuse to beat me up again, except this time when no one is around to stop him. But he¡¯s miscalculated. In fact, my smile mirrors his own as I shift my weight slightly to prepare to show him what a mistake he just made.


    ¡°Certainly, Brother Hai. Just let me get my money from my pack so I can pay you.¡± As I drop my pack and pretend to rummage through it, I ignore Hai¡¯s growing look of skepticism. ¡°Your robes certainly must cost a lot, Brother Hai. The silk looks very fine, and to use so much of it on one person is truly impressive. The design, however, I find a bit lacking; in fact, I think Uncle Guo down the streets has curtains with the exact same pattern.¡±


    Ah, there we go. Took him a while to get it, but he has. He tries to kick me in the face as I¡¯m currently kneeling, but even compared to the old man his kick is laughably slow. Shifting my position slightly, and my pack with it, his foot crashes into the pack and the rocks in it.


    Thank you, Master.


    All that pain and the permanent problems with my back I¡¯m probably going to have was worth it, for that one moment of hearing Hai¡¯s foot crunch against the pack and his scream that follows.He¡¯ll probably get his rich dad to get back at me somehow for this, but I¡¯m not too concerned. The fact that he injured his foot, of all things, is probably enough to give Wen to make a case for me when I say it was an accident.Hobbling off, his minion struggling to support his weight, Hai swears and curses at me, but I don¡¯t really care. For once in my life, I don¡¯t feel so powerless. This is the best night of my life.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    I awake to the sound of screams.


    It should be dark out, but it isn¡¯t. The room is painted in orange, yet sunrise should still be hours away.


    Rushing to one of the many holes in the walls of my dilapidated hut that substitutes for windows, I see dark shapes moving about outside, black silhouettes against a fiery background. I stumble outside and find myself in hell.


    Men in cloth and leather, riding on horses and carrying spears, run down anyone in their path. Some of them dismount and break their way into one of the huts, emerging from it with sacks of grain and food. The owner of the hut is dragged out too, but they slit his throat and his cries are cut off with a horrible gurgle. One of them throws the corpse and their loot on the back of his horse before riding off, leaving the rest of them to carry out the same procedure on the next house. To the other side of the village, I see a group of five of these invaders with legs and arms that are disproportionately large and covered in shaggy fur. Their arms are tipped in claws, and as I watch one of them smile, I see his teeth are sharp.


    Wolves, I realize. They look like wolves.


    A harsh, guttural cry sounds through the night, but it¡¯s not from them. They break into a run, but not towards me, instead sprinting towards the village center. In fact, I now realize the fires aren¡¯t spread evenly throughout the village. They seem to be spreading from the heart of the village. I consider running, but odds are the horsemen will see me and run me down before I get too far. If I stay here and hide, they¡¯ll find me eventually.


    If these men came to plunder, then they wouldn¡¯t be setting fire to the houses yet, at least not until they¡¯ve gotten what they need. The fire can¡¯t have come from them, else the whole village would be aflame by now. So that means that whoever is fighting them is probably at the center of the village, and they¡¯re probably still alive, else these men wouldn¡¯t have been summoned, and instead would focus on slowing the spread of fire.


    It seems my best bet for survival may just be to take a walk into a blazing death trap. Just my luck.


    It takes me the better part of half an hour to make my way there, and I¡¯m really not sure why I¡¯m surprised by who I see. Master Fu is using what looks like the Rising Gale style as he fights off three of the wolfmen I saw earlier, but each strike he uses seems to leave behind arcs of flame. One of the wolfmen tries to claw at his back, but Master switches to a variation of the Placid River style and avoids the blow, instead unleashing a blast of flame so intense I feel the heat even where I stand. When the flames let up, the wolfman is gone, turned to ash, but Master is visibly drained from that. His moves are more sluggish, and the other wolfmen press him harder than before, fueled by rage from the death of their comrade. Already he¡¯s surrounded by the bodies of at least nine corpses, wolfmen and horsemen alike, and that¡¯s not even counting how many he¡¯s turned to ash, but it¡¯s not enough.


    He¡¯ll die unless someone helps, and if I¡¯ve learnt anything about this village, it¡¯s that nobody helps others unless there¡¯s something in it for them.


    I sneak over to one of the dead horsemen and pluck the spear from his hands. The thing is almost as tall as I am, and the blade has surprisingly fine craftsmanship, forged into the shape of a leaf. I¡¯ve not learnt how to use a spear yet, so my tentative thrust towards one of the wolfmen is easily knocked aside as he growls at me. Ignoring his assault on Master, he tries to cleave me apart but I back off using the Rising Gale style. Darting around, I thrust the spear at him. He catches the head of the spear almost contemptuously, and I¡¯m forced to let go of it as he starts swinging it wildly.


    The distraction, however, has given Master enough time to finish off his opponent with another burst of flame. Turning his attention towards my opponent now, it¡¯s almost pathetic how easily Master disposes of him, another charred corpse joining the pile moments after the fight begins.


    Master isn¡¯t in very good shape, though. His face is ashen, and he¡¯s leaning heavily on one of the spears he picked up off the ground. I retrieve a spear from another corpse and make my way over to him.


    He gives me a curt nod before pulling out a flask and taking a deep swig from it. Colour returns to his cheeks and his breathing steadies as he wipes his moustachewith a free hand.


    ¡°Get out of here, boy. This is no place for a child. Get out of the village and head south, towards the capital. I don¡¯t doubt they¡¯ll already know about this attack by now, and they¡¯ll need soldiers for what¡¯s about to happen. You¡¯ll be able to find food and shelter if you enroll in the Army, maybe find your brother too. It¡¯s your best bet for surviving what¡¯s coming next.¡±


    ¡°What about you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll stay here and try to get as many people out as I can. I¡¯m feeling my age already, you see. Most likely I¡¯ll die tonight, but it¡¯s a good way to die. Better than wasting away in a hut in the middle of nowhere. Now run, before- ¡°


    He never finishes his sentence. His head rolls towards me as his body crumples towards the ground.


    I didn¡¯t even notice his killer, and I¡¯m not sure how. The thing is cloaked in shadow, the shape of a man, but no features show on its face.


    A black silhouette, cast in orange light and drenched in the blood of my mentor.


    I collapse to the ground, but I don¡¯t even realise it. The spear drops out of my hands as my heart races, breath struggling to force its way into my mouth.


    Fear.


    I¡¯ve known fear before. When the man pulled out a knife on Brother and me, demanding our money. When I slipped on the path up the mountain one winter, and Brother struggled to pull me back up. When I fell off a tree I had climbed up too high, in those few, brief moments before landing.


    But this is something else. This is more than just fear.


    This is hopelessness.


    Consciousness slips from my grasp, and I see only death striding towards me before I collapse.

 Chapter 5

    Zhen Kai Yun leapt through the sky, using Wind to propel himself forwards. Usually, the feeling of freedom he had in soaring through the air made this one of his favourite activities, and he sought to prolong it as much as he could.


    Not tonight, however. Tonight, he moved as quickly as he could, his Core emptying rapidly.


    The village ahead was on fire, the blaze standing out in the night. He should have seen this coming. He had been tracking the movements of the Bayati over the last few months, their recent agitation raising flags in the Imperial Information Corp. He had watched their troop movements, and though he had indicated the possibility of an impending attack soon in his reports, he had clearly made a huge mistake in the anticipation of when they would attack.


    He was in so much trouble for this.


    Landing in a cloud of dust, a gesture sent lightning crashing from his hands into the bodies of two of the Bayati horsemen that were charging towards him, sending them off their horses and crashing into the dirt. Using his Sweeping Gust technique, he moved swiftly through the village, killing any enemy soldier he met.


    He hadn¡¯t seen this raiding group in his scouting trips. No signs of any groups breaking off from the main army, leading him to miscalculate. The fact that they had struck this village wasn¡¯t a large blow to the Empire as a whole; while this village was a large source of food production for the Empire, its main export had been ¡®gourmet¡¯ items; rare fruits that could only be grown in the northern climates. The loss of those was likely to only affect the pampered nobles of the capital, and Heavens knew how little he cared for those. No, what was more concerning was that if the Bayati could sneak such a large group past him, how many of these such groups had already gotten past Imperial Agents?


    And how in the Heavens had they managed to do so?


    Shouts and cries of death made him turn his head, for these were not the cries of the villagers. No, these were the death cries of the enemy soldiers, their morphed vocal chords making their cries seem like the whimpers of a kicked hound. Turning towards their source, he spotted it; an old man, fighting side-by side with a boy who couldn¡¯t be more than fifteen, against a group of the enemy langren. Watching as they fought, he nodded to himself; the old man was clearly a veteran, probably with at least a Stage 3 Core. The boy was not trained in the use of reisen, and his use of the spear was a bit embarrassing to watch, but his mastery of martial arts was decent, and he had good reflexes. Kai Yun could work with that, provided he didn¡¯t die. A boy like that, capable of rushing into battle against beasts even without a trained Core? He could mold him into a deadly weapon for the Empire indeed.


    Although, this was dependent on this next encounter with the enemy commander, which even Kai Yun had nearly missed and just noticed. About to head into battle himself, he stopped at the last moment and pulled himself back.


    The enemy commander would likely go after the bigger danger first, which was clearly the old man. And given the boy seemed to have a history with the old man¡­ If he gave it a few more moments, he could possibly increase the boys¡¯ emotional investment, and use that further to his advantage. He¡¯d lose a trained soldier, but there was the potential to gain a much better asset.


    It was a gamble, but Kai Yun hadn¡¯t gotten to where he was by playing it safe. He watched as the commander leapt across the ground and killed the old man, then watched as the boy crumpled under the assault of his Core. Only then did he step out to face the enemy.


    All in all, that couldn¡¯t have gone much better. Now, to deal with the trash.


    Stepping out of his corner, he saw his opponents head swivel towards him. The man was cloaked in shadow, which meant he was using an Art that incorporated Darkness. In his hand he gripped a curved sabre, the blade around the same length as the standard issue daoand still dripping with blood. In his experience, Darkness arts tended to go for stealthy assassination techniques, or to use attacks that robbed their opponents of sight. Given sufficient darkness, these paths could be truly terrifying as the users could meld with and move through the shadows, but the firelight cast by the burning buildings thankfully had robbed the area of most of those. The man gave off an aura that signified a Core that Kai Yun estimated to be an upper middle Stage Seven. Respectably high, in fact higher than his own upper Stage Six on the cusp of Stage Seven. This would be an interesting fight, then.


    Settling into a ElusiveBreeze stance, Kai Yun prepared for the assault.


    A wave of shadow poured radially forth from the man¡¯s body, coating the world in darkness. Everything within the sphere vanished, and Kai Yun could see only his own self. A standard Darkness skill, well within parameters. Estimating the time it would take for the man to reach him based on his observations in the previous fight, Kai Yun counted to three and unleashed a blast of lightning, as powerful as he dared release. Watching the darkness recede as the man staggered, Kai Yun followed up with a bolt of lightning that the man dodged in an impressive act of contortion. Unrelenting, Kai Yun followed up by releasing bolts of lightning from multiple directions on him. The attack drained his Core, but it was effective: shadow leeched off parts of his body, revealing tanned skin underneath. Some of the bolts missed, but that was unavoidable given the nature of Lightning. Clenching his fist, he summoned Wind to crush down on the man in all directions, further restricting his movement.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    In response, the man opened a void above his head, leaving the lightning to crash harmlessly into the dark circle and disappear. Forcing his way out of the ¡®prison¡¯ even as he faded from view, only instincts led Kai Yun to leap backwards as a blade whistled dangerously close to his throat, the tip of it grazing him and drawing a thin line of blood.


    He was tempted to unleash another blast of lightning to ward off the man, but his Core was down to a third and frivolous use of his techniques would leave him vulnerable. The enemy had let up his technique and now faded back into view, the technique clearly having sapped a large amount of his strength as his posture now indicated.


    A stalemate. Neither of them had the ability to finish off the other. Kai Yun¡¯s mind raced to analyze the situation, to find a way out. Considering his objectives was a good start, he supposed.


    Primary objective: Find manner of infiltration. Still unsolved. Would likely require captives, preferably someone high up in the command chain, but this particular commander was probably too ambitious a capture target.


    Secondary objective: acquire the boy. Has the potential to become a very valuable asset.


    Tertiary objective: kill the commander. Stage Seven was high, but not particularly high among the Bayati people. The only reason they posed a threat to the Empire, despite having so much fewer soldiers, was that their people had been forged in war in a way the citizens of the Empire never had, making each of their soldiers more well trained and more ferocious. The killing of this commander, then, would be a blow to the enemy forces, but he doubted it would be a particularly devastating one.


    Objectives identified, now the manner of completing them. Completing the primary objective was tricky: deadlocked as they were, going after his men would leave his own back open to the commander. Could be accomplished by-


    Kai Yun was forced to abandon his train of thought as the blade swung at him, moving back out of the way. Unphased, his opponent pressed inwards, his blade a blur as he unleashed a flurry of attacks. Unable to avoid them all, gashes opened on his chest and hands, but the damage was minimal. Allowing the blade to cut into his left forearm, Kai Yun bit down a scream as the blade sliced deep, cracking the bone. But his goal was fulfilled; the injury gave him an opening to work with.


    Grabbing the man by his hand before he could let go of his blade, Kai Yun poured lightning through his fingers into the man¡¯s body. As his opponent convulsed, Kai Yun continued until smoke began to rise from the man¡¯s body and his eyes rolled back into his head. Only when he was certain the man was unconscious did he stop his attack.


    Objectives one, partially complete. Kai Yun now prepared to leave and found a new problem.


    How in the Heavens was he going to get out of here while transporting two unconscious people?


    A carriage scavenged from one of the noble houses, as it turned out, and a horse stolen from an enemy soldier. Warhorses were expensive, and the fact that he was reduced to using one to draw a wagon was not something he was particularly pleased about. The enemy commander had been bound tightly by some Celestial Iron chains he had brought, which would prevent his use of reisen. Still, a good precaution was to make sure he didn¡¯t get the chance to even try, and every few hours Kai Yun would go to the back of the carriage and deliver an injection of Sleeproot extract to ensure he stayed unconscious on their journey back to the capital.


    The boy, on the other hand, had been remarkably calm throughout the journey since waking up, with the exception of the attempted murder of his prisoner the first time he had been told why there was a bound man sleeping next to him. The calming of the boy had, unfortunately, required a small dose of Sleeproot extract.


    Why, such passion! Kai Yun couldn¡¯t wait to see what a weapon he could mold the boy into. He had the chance to examine his Core while he was asleep, and though slightly disappointed to find the boy¡¯s core was, in fact, smaller than average, it wasn¡¯t much of an issue at all. No, what Kai Yun needed was the right mindset, the proper motivation, and he believed his new asset had both.


    I¡¯m not sure how to feel.


    Master Fu is dead, my home is gone, and probably everything I own and everyone I know is gone with it.


    And now I¡¯m stuck on a carriage with a stranger. He¡¯s introduced himself to me as Kai Yun, said he¡¯s part of the Imperial Army and whatnot, but he hasn¡¯t told me much beyond that. I¡¯m not even sure if I should trust him.


    Although I¡¯m not given much of a choice¡­


    Sigh¡­


    Truth be told, I¡¯m not too sad about the village. The only person I felt any grief for was Master, and even that was muted by the relatively short time we spent together. The rest of the village, gone? I¡¯m sorry, but I try as I might, I just can¡¯t bring myself to care that much. Wen was a good man, I suppose, but although I do feel a bit sad about his death, I just didn¡¯t know him that well to feel much emotion. All my belongings are gone, but I never had much of value anyway.


    No, the reason I¡¯m moping around here is because in those few moments when that man in shadow stood before me, he took away something much more valuable. Right up to then, I had felt like I was actually capable of something. I actually thought my hard work till then had meant something, that I wasn¡¯t a powerless ant to be crushed under some rich noble¡¯s heel.


    And in those few moments, he had torn all that away, reminded me of how insignificant I was. Those few moments when I felt my heart would stop and my body refused to move had showed me just how weak I still was.


    I¡¯ve had time to think about it now, to reflect on those moments. I still remember the corpses on the floor, the smell of ash and burnt flesh.


    I remember trying to kill a person, and though I¡¯d failed it didn¡¯t make it any less of a crime. Sure, I was defending myself and he was an enemy, but couldn¡¯t I have distracted him in some other manner? In the end, I had struck him with the intent to kill.


    And the worst part? No matter how much I try, I can¡¯t bring myself to regret it. I want to lie to myself, but I know that given the chance, I would do it all again.


    Does this make me a bad person?


    The thoughts overwhelm me, and I lower my head and cry.

 Chapter 6

    It takes us a week to reach the nearest city, Huadi.


    The trip is relatively uneventful, except for the few wild animals that tried to attack us on the road. I¡¯m treated to a sight of Kai Yun frying them with bolts of lightning, or just tossing them into walls with wind, all seemingly effortlessly. The only major event to speak of was the time we were ambushed by a group of bandits, but even then Kai Yun deals with them easily. The attacks gradually abate as we near Huadi, the roads now more heavily patrolled by soldiers.


    And so, I¡¯m given a weekto think.


    Kai Yun still hasn¡¯t told me much about himself. All I know is that he¡¯s a member of the Army, and that he¡¯s very strong. I¡¯d seen Master fight off three men at once, but Kai Yun fended off the group of at least twenty bandits all the while protecting our carriage. He moved so fast I barely saw him, a blur of death carving through their ranks. Their charred bodies told me just how much power was in each of his lightning bolts, and he didn¡¯t even seem to be sweating after it all. When asked as to why he was in the village in the first place, all he would say was that he was investigating rumours of the Bayati preparing for war when they attacked.


    It¡¯s never been this serious. The Bayati are said to be wild and primitive, a horde of barbarians warring within their tribes, but even though our village was at the frontier and thus closest to their territory, they were never much of a concern. Always a distant problem, a topic of conversation but never an impending disaster.


    Until now, I suppose.


    After my breakdown, I¡¯ve been reevaluating my life. The village is gone, and now I¡¯ll need to find a means of supporting myself. But I doubt my old job of errand boy is going to cut it in the capital, where I can¡¯t rely on finding cheap vegetables and meat as I have so far.


    Maybe I could join the Army, try to find Brother. I was rejected once, but with a war, they¡¯ll need soldiers to throw at the enemy, won¡¯t they? If that¡¯s the case, at least some good may come out of this whole mess¡­


    Reaching the city gates, Kai Yun needs only show his badge before we¡¯re allowed through. The towering walls are manned by soldiers, some manning massive crossbows mounted on the top of the wall. Large metal gates set into the base of the wall are propped open, a sculpted dragon¡¯s head arching over it, while another group of soldiers stand guard before it. Several carriages and wagons are lined up before the gates, the soldiers checking those who enter, but Kai Yun ignores the queue and several cries of indignation, spurring us through the gates, pausing briefly to flash his badge.


    Entering one of the major cities in the Empire, Huadi shows me that it¡¯s a sight to behold.


    Beyond the high stone walls, the city is packed. I¡¯m assaulted by smells of freshly grilled meat, the shouts of vendors selling their wares. People crowd the streets, slowing the progress of our wagon, but giving me more time to admire the city. Still on the outskirts, I see the houses of the merchants and workers, but their houses are still properly built, unlike ours. The houses are mostly just shades of grey and brown, but the various colours of the gowns the people wear and the banners lining the streets give the scene a sense of life I¡¯ve never felt before. Children stop and stare at our carriage, and I check to make sure that neither of us are still stained by blood or ash. Seriously, though, there¡¯s so many people that I don¡¯t think I could last a day on these streets. Even on the carriage, being surrounded by so many people, I have a vague sense of being crushed.


    Kai Yun doesn¡¯t stop, though, nudging us forward into the heart of the city, where the palace resides. Even from the gates, the Imperial court is visible, its sheer size making it a clear landmark of the city.


    Do ministers and city officials really need that much space? How large does your house have to be, really? I mean, sure, there¡¯s a lot of them, but even so that building is just excessive.


    The most opulent manors back in the village would pale in comparison to some of the houses here, their massive structures looming over us. Sloped green roofs, framed with gold and red trim, guarded by two massive stone lions set before their doors, seems to be a common theme among the richer members of the city. The roads here are cleaner and the crowds have abated significantly, giving me a sense of relief.


    Kai Yun leads us to a large, flat building, where we dismount. Dragging the prisoner (and yes, he actually does drag him, on account of him still being unconscious), we enter and are greeted by the sight of an old, wrinkled man, back hunched over and hands trembling. Even before Kai Yun has started speaking, he points at me and screeches.


    ¡°OUT! OUT!¡±


    It¡¯s a few frantic seconds of hushed explanations by Kai Yun before he calms down enough to let me follow Kai Yun further into the building. Stopping before a pair of large wooden doors, he knocks, and we wait for the voice within to tell us to enter.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    The man inside is certainly not who I expected to meet. A head of jet-black hair cropped short, instead of being tied into a bun as is the usual form. Red and gold armour, in the colours of the Imperial Army, but much more ornate than the standard fare. Small golden dragons run down the sides of his armour, and his helm, laid on his desk, is in the form of a dragon¡¯s head. But most notable, the large guandaoleaning against the wall, the blade the green of jade and the handle carved in the form of a twisting, you guessed it, dragon.


    Even I know who this is. The ¡®Jade Dragon¡¯, Liu Jing Chao. One of the Great Generals of the Empire, the hero who slew the Beast of the Western Passes, the man who was said to have turned back a rebel army of seventy thousand men at the Qinya mountains with a mere company of ten thousand, all through use of superior tactics. This was a living legend, so famous even I had seen paintings of him in a remote village in the middle of nowhere. He had to be in his eighties by now, but he still looked not a day over thirty.


    Just how developed was his Core? And now he¡¯s glaring at us. Shit, the man is intense. I can¡¯t even bring myself to meet his eyes.


    Dropping to his knees, Kai Yun motions for me to do the same, and I quickly follow. ¡°Servant Zhen Kai Yun greets Great General Liu. Servant Zhen brings news regarding the Bayati, and a prisoner of war.¡±


    ¡°And the boy?¡±


    Even his voice is terrifying. It¡¯s deep, gravelly, and he sounds like he¡¯s ready to rip my head off even with that simple sentence.


    ¡°Servant believes he will be useful in the war.¡±


    Wait, how? I doubt I can offer anything Kai Yun can¡¯t, and I don¡¯t think he would bring me here if all he wanted was another soldier.


    ¡°Servant wishes to take the boy as a disciple, if Great General allows.¡±


    ¡­What?


    Jing Chao¡¯s eyes seem to bore holes into both of us, and it¡¯s a few tense moments before he speaks.


    ¡°Granted. Now, report. How did they slip past you? And what were your observations?¡±


    ¡°Servant apologizes, but this one has not managed to find out how the enemy managed to avoid observation. Servant hopes information may be gained from the prisoner and begs forgiveness for his failure. Regarding the enemy, servant notes their movements during the attack were focused on obtaining food. However, more concerning was that servant notes how the attackers were composed of two separate tribes, horsemen and langren, led by this commander.¡± To make his point, he kicks the man lightly in the head. ¡°Servant believes there may be a possibility that the tribes have somehow been unified, and they may be seeking expansion.¡±


    ¡°¡­Fine. Your failure to notice enemy troop movements will be forgiven, for now, given your excellent track record and your capture of an enemy commander. Bring this man to the interrogation room and set to complete your new task: we are now at war with the Bayati. You are to act as part of the advanced unit; report to our camps near the Liusha canyon in a week for further orders. Dismissed.¡±


    Following Kai Yun¡¯s example, we salute and leave the room.


    The interrogation room is, thankfully, not what I had imagined. I had thoughts of bloody blades and screaming men, but it turned out to just be a few cells housing inmates who were curled up in the corners, manned by a surprisingly pleasant middle-aged man who introduced himself as Zi Long. Kai Yun barely spares enough time to throw the prisoner into a cell before we leave, muttering a few hushed words towards Zi Long. The man seems amiable enough, offering tea and biscuits, but the way the vacant stares of the prisoners and their crazed whispering tell me otherwise.


    ¡°Are you still wondering about what I told the Great General?¡± Kai Yun¡¯s voice snaps me out of my reverie.


    ¡°¡­Actually, yes. Did you mean it? When you said you intended to take me on as a student?¡±


    ¡°Of course. Why else would I say it?¡±


    We wander down the twisting corridors of the building, Kai Yun¡¯s strides long and purposeful, and though my legs are as long as his I struggle to keep up. Already I¡¯ve lost track of where we came from, for this building is a veritable maze¡­


    ¡°¡­Do I have a choice?¡±


    ¡°Yes. After all, anyone who would refuse is not someone I would want as a disciple.¡±


    ¡°But I don¡¯t even know who you are, or what you do. How can I make a decision until I have more information?¡±


    Kai Yun ponders this for a while, and we walk in silence until he speaks again.


    ¡°My name is Zheng Kai Yun, and I¡¯m part of the Imperial Information Corp, reporting directly under Great General Liu. We¡¯re an elite unit tasked with maintaining security of the empire. How we do so is up to Great General Liu; we are the shield that bears the attack, or the dagger that strikes at the heart of the enemy. We are the best of the Army, and with this comes certain¡­privileges.¡±


    ¡°Then why choose me? I¡¯m an untrained nobody who doesn¡¯t even know how to use reisen and was prevented from joining the Army. I¡¯m no genius, and I¡¯m no elite.¡±


    ¡°Because I see potential in you. Give me time and I believe I can make you a truly fearsome warrior.¡± His voice now has an edge, but it is so subtle I almost do not notice it. ¡°Are you going to go back to your mediocre life, dying unknown and in the middle of nowhere? Or will you take this chance, this path of pain and suffering, to spread your wings and fly?¡±


    I could still join the Army. Find Brother. And I still want to. But¡­


    No.


    I¡¯ve spent too long hiding beneath Brother, relying on his strength. I had grown soft and comfortable, because Brother was always there, Brother always would be.


    Until he wasn¡¯t, and I saw the truth of my weakness. Joining the Army would be me falling into the same rut; a life of relative ease and comfort, hiding my head under the sand. I¡¯m not religious, but the Heavens have seen fit to give me a chance at greatness, and I shouldn¡¯t be so willing to throw it away. No more would that weak little boy who thought himself mighty by tricking an oaf exist. No more would the child who collapsed in the face of danger live. He would die, burned away together with the village that birthed him.


    Hang on, Brother. We will meet again, and this time, I¡¯ll be the one protecting you.

 Chapter 7

    I thought Master Fu was bad, but Master Zhen is somehow worse.


    I duck as the blade of his guandaoslashes the air just above my head and sidestep the butt of the polearm as he swings it upwards. The last few weeks have given me an idea as to how to deal with such weapons that I attempt to use as I dodge his rapid swipes while I bring myself inwards, removing his advantage of reach. He shoves the shaft of his weapon in my face, but I catch it with both hands and stop him from breaking my nose.


    However, that leaves me open to the knee he delivers into my side. The breath is driven out of me and the circulation pattern of my reisen I was told to hold is almost disrupted, my control faltering for a moment before I regain concentration. The few moments were enough for him to back away, out of reach, and again he exploits the extra reach he now has as he adjusts his grip and unleashes a flurry of attacks while slowly moving backwards, keeping me away from him.


    Well, if he¡¯s going to be like that¡­ I switch into the Rising Gale stance, keeping my knees slightly bent to give me explosive bursts of speed. Despite both being named after the wind, the Elusive Breeze and Rising Gale stances have quite a significant difference in their movements. The Elusive Breeze focuses on kicking techniques, attacking from a range, and movement mainly focuses on getting away from the enemy. In contrast, the Rising Gale places more emphasis on punches and elbow strikes and focuses on getting close to the enemy via both dashes and flips.


    Honestly, though, who uses a flipin the middle of a fight? I¡¯m no expert, but it seems like a good way to get yourself killed.


    He reopens our exchange with an overhead cleave, following with a sideways sweep of my legs as I dodge his first attack. I leap over his sweep towards him and he retreats, all the while launching attack after attack. He gets bored of this game quickly, however, as he starts using gusts of wind to knock me off balance. I switch over to the Placid River stance instead, giving myself the extra stability and turning aside his attacks by pushing against the flat of the blade. That is, until I¡¯m a moment too slow and his blade sweeps past my defense, stopping right before my face.


    The session now over, I¡¯m given leave to take a break before we start physical training. The past few weeks have just been nonstop sparring and physical training, which Master justifies as ¡°rushing my preparation for the war¡±. All of this is done while circulating reisen around my body, non-stop, all day and night. Master claims it helps my control and grows my pool, but secretly I think he just likes it because it gives him an excuse to whip me when I lose control of the circulation.


    As much as I may complain, the weapons training has actually significantly improved my skills. Watching how Master Zhen used the variety of weapons to fight and adapting to each has given me a clear idea of what each stance hopes to achieve, and what each of their weaknesses are. For example, using the Crushing Earth stance against a guandaowould have been suicide, as the solid blocks and restricted movements of the stance would have been a horrible match against the sheer weight of the weapon. In contrast Placid River did well here as it focused on redirecting force instead of absorbing it, but against a lighter weapon like a jian the stance¡¯s defense would have been practically useless.


    I jog off to find the well at the center of the camp, the cool mist freezing me through my sweat soaked shirt. The Liusha canyons seem to be covered in a perpetual mist, partly a result of the spray from the few waterfalls gushing over it. The falls weren¡¯t an original part of the canyons, however; the battle between the two great warriors which had also served to give the canyons its name had also cracked off parts of the neighbouring mountains, resulting in streams pouring over the surface of the canyons. The canyons overlook the twisting Yuexia river, allowing for the camp to receive supplies by boat.


    As of now, the camp seems to only consist of a handful of Intelligence Corps members, and though I¡¯ve yet to meet any I¡¯m told each of these members has brought along their own disciples. I¡¯ve wondered why we weren¡¯t trained together, but apparently the training for each disciple is tailored to specifically fit only that particular disciple.


    Talk about excessive¡­


    The darkened skies overhead have started to thunder by the time I reach the well. The wind howls through the camp, catching the tents and straining the ropes holding them down. Flashes of lightning light up the skies as they arc towards the ground. Sparring against Master has given me a sense of what being struck by lightning feels like, so I hurriedly drink my water and make it back to Master. If he¡¯s able to use lightning, he should have some way to stop me from being hit, right?...


    Right?...


    I find Master seated in a lotus position, his eyes closed. Without bothering to open them, he speaks.


    ¡°Tell me, what do you know of reisen?¡±


    I pause to collect my thoughts. What I know came from Brother, which came from an old discarded manual of some obscure Sect he had found. I¡¯m hoping the fact it was a Sect manual meant it was at least somewhat accurate. Then again, if it was discarded¡­


    ¡°Reisen is the Life Force of a person. It¡¯s what gives us life.¡±If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡­. I don¡¯t think he liked that answer. It¡¯s hard to give off an air of disappointment while maintaining a neutral expression, but somehow Master does it.


    ¡°No. Reisen by itself is ¡®Character¡¯; it is what makesan object itself. To have the Character of Fire means to burn, the Character of the blade means to cut, and so on. To use the reisen of an element, you must understand it¡¯s Character, its secrets, and only then may you convince your own reisen to emulate those properties, that you may use them.¡±


    He motions for me to sit.


    ¡°There are three types of reisen: elemental, conceptual and bestial. Elemental reisen comes from understanding the Character of the elements around us, such as Fire, Water, Earth. You¡¯ve seen me use both Wind and Lightning; this is because my reisen is that of the Storm. By understanding certain elements, you can take control over more than one ¡®pure¡¯ element, although your control over each of your constituent elements will be weakened.¡±


    This is the first time I¡¯ve heard him say so much in one go, so I listen intently.


    ¡°In contrast, the conceptual reisen users understand the Character of concepts; some may use the Character of the blade to cut, the Character of the trap to snare, and so on. In my experience, I have found some of these practitioners to be exceedingly powerful, but their power can make them brittle; they lack adaptability.¡± Master¡¯s lip curls up in disgust at this last word.


    ¡°Lastly, you¡¯ve met some of the bestial reisen users. These were the langrenwho attacked your village; they understood the Character of wolves, and so gained their power. To use bestial reisen, you must understand the Character of a living thing; animals are common, but plants are also a possibility. Many Bayati seem to favour this particular type; not particularly surprising, given how powerful some of the wild animals in the northern regions can be.¡± Master finally opens his eyes and spreads his arms out. ¡°Prepare yourself, for I intend to teach you the path of the Storm.¡±


    Seated in a lotus position, I close my eyes and feel the violent winds rage around me. Master¡¯s voice, strong and resounding, carries clearly over the roaring wind.


    ¡°Feel the storm around you, its destructive power. Feel the wind, pushing aside all that stands in its way. Feel the crackle of lightning, and its desire to destroy that which it touches. Feel its power and grace; know that this is the might you can command.¡±


    That¡¯s nice and all, but it¡¯s still not a proper manual. Oh well. Eyes closed, I focus on my meditation, reaching for calm and control, seeking my Core. Circulating my reisen through my body in slow, lazy loops, I push it as far as it can go, from the top of my head to the tip of my toes. I try to sense on the reisen of the storm, and it¡¯s after a few long minutes of spiritual groping do I begin to sense it; the violent nature of the winds seem to have a pattern to them, swirling according to threads of emerald light. Even with my eyes closed, the winds blowing around me contain these threads that imprint themselves on my eyelids. A violet arc of light streaks across my vision, and somehow, I knowthat what I¡¯m seeing is the reisen of lightning, traced out for me.


    Tentatively, I focus my reisen into a thread of blue light and send it out to grasp one of the emerald threads. The moment it leaves my body, I feel my reisen drain away and I almost gasp from the shock of feeling my Core drain so quickly, but I grit my teeth and force it onwards. As the two threads make contact, the wispy blue thread of my reisen dissipates, motes of blue turning green, drifting off as they dissolve in the wind. A faint stirring, deep within my mind, but as I reach for it the whispers hang ever so slightly out of reach, tantalizing and taunting. I force down the feelings of frustration, maintaining my focus, and try again, pushing out my reisen to brush against the emerald threads the whispers return. But instead of reaching for them again, instead I study the movements of my dissolving reisen, noting how it swirls and flows. The whispers grow louder as I lose myself in the patterns, and suddenly my head fills with knowledge.


    I see the wind flowing past trees, rocks, dancing and twirling in the sky.


    I see the force of a hurricane, brought to bear on the land, ripping trees from their roots and pulling dirt from the ground.


    I see birds sailing on the breeze, and I see gales flattening huts.


    It¡¯s over almost as quickly as it came, and I¡¯m left reeling with the influx of information. I could stop now, but to use Storm means I¡¯ll need to somehow get access to the lightning as well.


    I wonder how likely it is to get struck by lightning?...


    Deep in focus, I lose track of time.


    I¡¯ve been thinking about Lightning, imagining it light up the dark sky above. I see it crash towards the ground, remember how it could fry a human. And yet, its nature remains ever so slightly out of grasp.


    Until a suddenCRACKsends a bolt straight through me, exactly as I¡¯d hoped.


    Dimly, I¡¯m aware of burnt flesh and smoke, but I ignore it, instead focusing on the bits of Lightning I managed to brush against with my reisen. Within my body, tiny streaks of purple dart back and forth, the remnants of the threads I¡¯d managed to encircle the Lightning with. As with the Wind, I focus on their motions, their nature, and my the shroud is lifted once again.


    And yet¡­


    No, no, no, no no no-


    Whatever I¡¯d known about the Wind is slipping away. My memories of the insights I¡¯d gained are disappearing and trying to hold onto them is like trying to catch an eel with my bare hands. I struggle to control my breathing, each breath threatening to disrupt the fragile balance of my concentration.


    Wait.


    Master mentioned that he uses two by understanding the Storm. Could it be that he doesn¡¯t fully understand each?


    I hurry, before the last dregs of my insights leave me. I try to conjure up an image of the Storm, recalling the scene around me. I pull out only specific insights from each element, discarding that which is irrelevant.


    The Storm has no gentle breezes, for it does not flow past its obstacles, only breaking down that which stands in its way.


    The Storm is not the controlled flow of energy; it is the raw unrestrained power of lightning, set loose on the world.


    Slowly, my breathing stabilizes. The insights I have chosen to maintain stay fixed in my head, while the rest are gone, dew in the morning sun. I feel a rush of power within me, a raging typhoon taking the place of the calm that was once my Core. Opening my eyes, I¡¯m treated to the sight of Master, forcing a pill into my mouth that I swallow before the world goes dark.