The Third Kingdom - Chapter 16 preview (Patreon)

Perhaps it was the wound done to Liu Jin. Perhaps the animosity and the grudges had been there all along, hidden beneath a veneer of courtesy and hospitality. Perhaps it was just coincidence that drove the number of injuries in the second part of the day.. There was a savagery, a merciless in the second half of the day that had been lacking during the earlier fights.

“Hmmm?” Gao Qiu replied when Wu Ying commented on it while they waited for their own turn, then chuckled a little. “A little, I guess. But look at the board.” Wu Ying turned his head where a simple wooden board had been set-up. Names had been written on one end where wooden slats were inserted and another, a tally of wins. The board only carried twelve names, but it was enough to tell who the leaders were.

“I see it,” Wu Ying said. “What of it?”

“Do you not notice?” Gao Qiu snorted at Wu Ying’s blank look. “There’s only four who have won every single one of their fights.” He mildly glared at Wu Ying. “Might have been five if someone had put in an effort.”

“Ah…” Wu Ying nodded. “They’re vying for the last spots.”

“Exactly.” Then Gao Qiu lowered his voice, growing tired a little as he spoke. “But there are grudges being settled. It’s… well. It’s tough for us out here, as wandering cultivators. Not much resources, not much jobs. If you take a job from another, well, it’s remembered.”

“But still better than joining a sect.”

“Yes,” Gao Qiu nodded firmly. “It might be different in Shen, but here…” He shook his head. “Here, it’s tough. The government guards the roads and all the major settlements, so it’s only smaller villages that need our help or travelling merchants. And even then, the pay… well, you remember.” Wu Ying nodded, recalling the single tael he had been paid. It was, of course, a decent amount of coin for a merchant, but for a cultivator who needed to buy spirit stones and pills to aid them in their cultivation, it was all too small. “So we all compete for the better contracts when they crop up.”

“You should all learn to be Gatherers or Herb Farmers then,” Wu Ying said, helpfully.

The look he received from Gao Qiu made him smile a little. Even here, most cultivators turned down the job. Not that he blamed them – there was not much money in the growing of most spirit herbs. Especially not compared to the amount of specialized knowledge one needed.

After all, spiritual herbs weren’t like rice – you couldn’t keep replanting the same plant, only rotating and fertilizing it as needed. Not to say rice farming was easy; but it certainly did not require knowledge of formations, chi flows and develop an entire ecology of other plants to balance the overall environment.

As for Wild Gathering – that was even more specialized. After all, not only did you need to know and differentiate hundreds of spiritual herbs, you also needed to be willing to travel in the wilds. It was not as though many of the herbs that were most in demand matured more than once every few years, if not decades.

“You know, some have tried,” Gao Qiu said, absently. “Most of us learn a little bit – just the basics, you know?” Wu Ying nodded. It didn’t take much to work out what Spirit Grass was or a Three Fold Mushroom. “But storage, finding people to make the pills afterwards…” The older man shook his head. “It’s not easy.”

For a second, Wu Ying considered his own World Spirit Ring. It continued to grow, nearly six fields large now. Thankfully, the amount of work required to keep it running had decreased, ever since he had adjusted what he grew. Now, he had multiple plants that would mature over a timespan of years, leaving him with less day-to-day management.

Rare Spirit Herbs arrayed in fields all across his ring, many of them the herbs he required for the medicinal baths he needed to keep his Wind Body improving. Even if the pixiu had said that he needed a dragon’s blood to improve most drastically, it was not something he could rely upon. Rather, he would prefer to slowly grind away at the blockages, slowly improving his body further.

In theory, at some point, he would gain a true Wind Body. One that was as much mortal and physical as an aspect of the wind. He would have to master the Seven Winds, to soak in the dao of Heaven and Hell. Yet, that method forward too required his body to be ready.

So. Step by step.

“Why not leave then?” Wu Ying gestured around him. “Surely there are easier countries. Places that would be easier to grow.”

“Some do. Some decide it is too much to exist and leave. But for many of us… this is our home. We grew up here. The city’s we see, the settlements we visit, they’re familiar. We have friends, some even have family,” Gao Qiu said. “And though some might preach leaving behind the ties to mortality to ascend, the kingdom is not wrong. Too few succeed – and even fewer of us wandering cultivators.”

“So you form families?” Wu Ying said, curiously.

“And associations.”

“Like the White Flower Merchant Association.” Wu Ying nodded. “And these other cultivators, they’re part of other associations?”

“Some of them. The Brother of Bamboo, the Prosperous Two Thousand. ” Gao Qiu gestured to a few groups on the edges. “Some are part of ours.”

Wu Ying ran a hand through his hair, making sure it was in place. So much to learn. A world that was entirely different in a way. Now that his attention was brought to the matter, he could see and understand the way some of them interacted with one another, the groupings.

And the way the Brothers of Bamboo were glaring at Gao Qiu and the Prosperous Two Thousand, nearly all of their own people knocked out. Or how a few of the smaller groups, not official associations but friends anyway stared at the bigger groups.

“So, what does being in association do for you all, anyway?” Wu Ying said. “I know you offered for me to join, but you never did elaborate.”

“Ah! That…” Gao Qiu paused, then made a face. “It seems it is my turn. Another time?”

Wu Ying frowned, since it was not exactly his turn. Still, he let the man go. Who knew what mental preparations another needed? Especially as things got more difficult.

Left alone, he let out a huff, then returned to watching the fights. Yet, he found himself distracted, the earlier pull of watching individuals train and improve themselves having faded. Now, the fights were more vicious, more desperate – almost like the tournaments in the kingdom of Shen. The tournament was not, at the end of the day, fun.

Then again, Wu Ying had to admit; perhaps he had been the only one who ever thought of it as entertaining. After all, he was the only one of the groups here who did not require the winnings. Who had no intention of making a connection with the Seven Pavilions.

Realization left him reeling, as the words of the Core Formation Elders clarified.

He was an adult, bullying children.

Perhaps he might learn something from fighting. But just as likely, he could have learnt as much watching them. Certainly, outside of Pan Shui; none of the others exhibited the Heart of their weapons. His ascension had enforced a division, one that only now he was truly understanding.

One that he had to admit, he was ashamed to have taken so long to grasp. Too long, perhaps, he had considered himself the underdog. And even if he had progressed from being a mere peasant, he still had survived in the shade of those stronger about him. Those who had grown faster than him. Everyone from his martial sister who had been lauded as a prodigy to his own best friend who had formed a Core two years ago.

“Cultivator Long!”

The voice pulled Wu Ying from his thoughts, the impatient referee waving to him. He offered the referee a weak wave in reply, scanning the surroundings. Lots of individuals around, but the three presences he was most concerned about were in their usual positions, balcony and compound respectively. He shrugged and

hurried over, eyes already drinking in his opponent. Well, perhaps he would consider the matter later tonight.

For now, he would fight. Even a quick glance at his opponent showed that this would not be a challenge– his opponent did not even have proper balance. A favorable duel, one no one would expect him to beat. Tomorrow, then. It would not be too late to lose, gracefully, tomorrow.

***

Wu Ying walked over to the sect Elders table, bowing to them and taking the indicated seat. He could feel the eyes of the other cultivators watching him, the quiet questioning of why he was being so honored but he chose to ignore it. There was nothing he could do about it, for now. Nor would declining the invitation be in his best interest. Not with the sects being a second potential source of income.

Having greeted the pair and received his tea and a portion of the snacks arrayed, the group entered into small talk even as the privacy bubble that kept their conversations muted to the outside world was left unactivated. They spoke mostly about the weather and rumored incidents in various cities – conscriptions, bandit raids, rumors of demon beast appearances and subjugation. The trio of Core Formation elders and the two silent sect cultivators seated by the side all avoided the topic of the tournament itself.

Small talk. Wu Ying was grateful enough for it, for the information provided and his probing let him paint a greater picture of the kingdom. For all that the invitation had been extended by both Elders, it was mostly Elder Tsui who was carrying the conversation, with Elder Eng only interjecting occasionally. The man looked entirely dissatisfied, glaring about him occasionally when his impersonal mask fell. However, in time, the talk trailed off and the point of inviting him over was reached.

“Your results in the tournament today was… interesting, Cultivator Long,” Elder Tsui commented leadingly.

“Having a chance to practice my unarmed styles is not something I can afford to pass me by,” Wu Ying said, mildly. “After all, I do not have sect mates to test my understanding upon.”

“A tournament is no place for testing! It’s why you lost,” Kong Lai scoffed. “As it stands, you might not even enter the semi-finals!”

“Ah, but the semi-finals do not count previous wins,” Shi Fei said. “There is strategy to entering not as the chief contender, such that one might face a weaker opponent to start.”

“Only if they do weaker to weaker pairing and not weaker-to-stronger,” Kong Lai said. “Otherwise, he might face me immediately and lose.”

Elder Eng snorted loudly, making Kong Lai bow her head in sudden contrition.

“Elder-” she began.

“You overestimate yourself, always. Just like my disciple… my late disciple…” For a second Elder Eng’s voice grew faint, before it firmed. “used to. You think all this is a game, when the path to cultivation is fraught with danger. If you do not learn, you too will die.”

“I was always better than him,” Kong Lai said mulishly.

“Fool!” He made a small motion, a chi projection forming and slapping her across the face from his seat. She rocked backwards, choosing not to dodge the obvious attack, knowing that doing so would have entailed even greater punishment. “What good is martial prowess when you are stabbed in the back!”

“I apologise, Elder Eng. I did not think.”

“Of course you didn’t.” Elder Eng spat to the side. “Useless. My disciple and nephew, killed. You, I’m saddled with because of my youngest sister and her lack of morals.” He shook his head. “What a pitiful existence.”

Wu Ying kept his mouth shut, even as he watched Kong Lai bristle. It seemed that even the smallest pressure had brought out the hidden resentments among the sect members.

He could not help but remember his own time in the Verdant Green Waters, the wrangling for position among certain Elders or the way they lorded it over outer sect members to make themselves feel better about their own lack of improvement in their cultivation base.

Then again, was this any better? Different certainly, but not better.

“Did you, Cultivator Long?” Elder Tsui asked.

“Did I what?” Wu Ying replied.

“Choose to lose strategically?” He even sounded mildly interested, though Wu Ying assumed most of his words were a distraction. It would certainly be what he did – if he cared about saving Elder Eng’s face.

“I-” Before he could finish, Wu Ying sensed it. He spun around, looking over the balcony and then following the whiff of blood he had caught. Mostly fresh, a little dried, but too much of it to be a casual injury or a broken open wound. Along with the smell of iron and death was the pulsing grief, the stench of rage and grief and tears.

As quickly as he had picked up on it, he was nearly too late. The individual involved was moving too swiftly, exploding onto the scene. They ignored the stairs and main entrance, instead leaping straight up to the second floor via the patio deck, hooking an arm around the edge of the floor that jutted out. She used it to vault herself the rest of the way to the balcony top, bare feet resting on the arm-width length of wood.

“Liu Ping!” Wu Ying cried out.

“I’LL KILL YOU!” Liu Ping was screaming, her sword breaker in hand. Legs bunched and pushed against the bannister, the wood creaking and shattering. The quad-edged steel rod aiming to crush, the bestial aura of her body erupting to aid her strike. The entire attack flew pass Wu Ying, filled with killing intent and the sum of her energy to home in on Kong Lai.

Already alerted, Wu Ying was moving, drawing his sword from its sheath and standing. However, sword draws from a seated position, especially in an attempt to protect someone else was highly inconvenient. It slowed him, for he had to push away from the table, draw and reach across the distance.

Too slow.

“Enough!” The roared word from Elder Eng shook the entire building, making hastily constructed wood creak and whine. Newly rebuilt sections trembled, nails popping out and joints stressing and fracturing as the Core Formation cultivator extended his aura. All those around felt their movements slowed, their limbs grown heavy as though the weight of a mountain itself had been added to them. Those closest to him were affected the most, feeling the full weight of the unleashed aura.

The crushing strike meant for Kong Lai dipped low, digging into the chair and then floor, shattering the wooden plank below. It left only the slightest scratch from the claw-like aura on the target’s leg as it fell.

Crouched on the banister, Liu Ping collapsed even as the guardrail gave away. It sent her sprawling on the floor and tottering on the edge of falling off. By dint of rage and stubbornness, she managed to scramble and keep her position. Then, edges of the very same bear-bloodline and aura peeking around the pressure and aiding her, Liu Ping pushed upward against the elder’s aura. attempting to finish her attack.

Wu Ying’s own sword, half drawn in an attempt to parry the attack wavered as the aura combated his own. He felt the earth elemental domain of Elder Eng press upon him, trying to weigh him down. Instinctively, he shed it, letting the aura and the pressure exerted by the elder glide off him.

What was a mountain but an obstacle to move around? Did the wind care that it stood there, still and imposing? Let it stand, unmoving. It could stay for all the wind care for the wind was meant to travel, to see and move and gust.

Finishing his motion, Wu Ying drew and cut downwards near the hilt of Liu Ping’s sword. He struck hard, projecting his own aura and sword intent into the blow, beating the weapon out of straining fingers. Liu Ping’s tie jian fell to the floor with a clatter, even as chairs scraped and the pair of Elders stood.

“What kind of foolishness is this? An assassination attempt on my sect member? I shall have your head!” Elder Eng roared.

“She killed my brother! I’ll kill her…” Liu Ping cried. Her rage and grief gave her strength, such that she scrambled for her weapon’s hilt. Only for Wu Ying to step on it, blocking her movements. A second later, Elder Tsui’s own fiery aura spread out, focused upon her and drawing a pained grimace.

“You traitor!” she hissed at Wu Ying even as her tears dripped from reddened eyes.

“This is not the way, Liu Ping,.” he murmured softly, sheathing his own weapon. More eyes, all watching him now, as many struggled to deal with Elder Eng’s aura and he moved, without concern. He bent down, picking up the sword breaker. “He died, then?”

“He was killed!” She snarled. “He was fine when I left for my fight. But when I came back, when I came back…” she choked off a sob. “She killed him.”

“Death in the tournament was always a risk,” Elder Tsui said, but stopped when Wu Ying held up a hand.

Crouching beside Liu Ping, holding the tie jian in one hand in reverse grip so she could not grab it, Wu Ying raised her head with his other hand, flooding the exterior of her aura with his own, shedding a little of Elder Eng’s and Tsui’s aura to give her some space to move. At the same time, he pushed at her own growling aura, sending calming winds replete with memories of lazy summer days and cloying warmth to mellow her.

“You said she killed him. What do you mean?” Suspicion in his voice.

Rather than answer him, she sobbed loudly. Collapsing, as though it was only fighting against the auras that had kept her moving. Now, beaten, she had no more energy.

His answer came from an unexpected source, the arrival of Elder Cao from the skies, coming down from up high rather than from the compound direct was only preceded by a short notice as the winds murmured a warning to Wu Ying.

“He was murdered. Throat slashed, while he lay in bed. We have a second murder on our hands,” Elder Cao said, turning to look at all around and pitching her voice such that it carried not just through the restaurant but across the entirety of the village and the Seven Pavilions compound. “Until such time as we determine who the killer is, no one will be allowed to leave.”

Pandemonium at her words. The crowd shouted, those far away from the Elders released auras shouting questions, gathering together and grabbing at weapons.

Upstairs, the Elders pulled back their own auras in respect of Elder Cao. Wu Ying made Liu Ping’s sword disappear into his Storage Ring and he took her in his arms as she cried. Over her head, he looked up, spotting Elder Cao’s troubled gaze and winced internally.

Things had gotten even more complicated in this damn tournament.