Climbing the Ranks - Chapter 22 preview (Patreon)

Days later, Arthur finally chose to break away from his cultivation. He had completely used up the majority of his cores and progressed his cultivation a little, enough that he now felt comfortable leaving his hidden residence. Twice, he had to step out to kill a monster that had come a little too close to locating him, once late at night and another time whilst he was in the middle of cultivation. No longer did he consider his hasty abode safe.

Not that it really was that safe to begin with, but the mind is willing to trick itself when it has four walls and a covering over it. Even if that covering was thin fabric and a bunch of cut leaves. Then again, Arthur knew, his safety lay in both the size of the forest surrounding him and his concealment, not the strength of his walls.

It was time to leave, and with that it meant packing up, stretching and washing. His clothing was looking much the worse for wear, with the extra changes he had brought with him – more tops than bottoms as befitted any good camping trip and more underclothes and socks than anything else – both dirty and worn. Living constantly in the outdoors, fighting monsters was hard on clothing.

Staring at the stained and torn shirt he had put on, Arthur wrinkled his nose. Perhaps his plan of staying out of the beginner village for years on end was too flawed. Unless he chose to be naked, he was going to have to return to resupply.

Pondering his options, Arthur made his way down river, back towards portions of the forest that were a little less dangerous. He still remembered the fallen cultivator, the pill that he still had stored away. He had considered taking it, but not knowing what the pill actually was for, he had hesitated. Taking the wrong medicine at the wrong time could kill him, or at least damage his body and set him back.

In the end, he had chosen to wait till he could get it analyzed. There were risks and then there were risks – and this one just seemed foolhardy in the extreme. As it stood, the rusty sword that he wore on his hip was a good find in itself. With some care, it would last him a little while longer before it broke. And if it did break, he might still make use of the broken sword head to strap it to his staff, making an impromptu spear.

He actually would prefer that in a way. Spears were nice – they had the reach to keep monsters away, the flexibility of a staff and were useful as a walking stick when you had kilometers upon kilometers of land to cross.

Making his way back through the woods, Arthur detoured when he spotted the occasional monster, taking them out with ease. He might not have grown stronger since his journey upstream, but he had grown ,ore confident and that added a surety to his strikes that had been missing.

Nearly dying and getting a healing technique had both done wonders for the surety of his strikes.

It always seemed that the path back was faster than the one into the unknown. Even if he was not retracing his way entirely, Arthur soon found himself in familiar environs. To his surprise though, he heard voices in the distance, shouts and screams.

He frowned, cocking his head to the side and debated what to do briefly. He was no upstanding hero of justice, but then again, he was not a fan of just standing aside like a blind passerby.

Slipping forwards, marvelling a little at how much more comfortable he had grown moving in the forest over the past few weeks – months? – since he had been in here, Arthur sought out the shouts and clash of blades. He kept hold of his staff, though he had put away his backpack upon moving since carrying that into battle was a bad idea.

Damn but he wanted a portable storage device.

His first sight of the fighting group made him frown. One side was a trio of women, all of them wielding polearms. On the other side were four men, though only two were still standing. These two, wielding parangs and sabres were blocking the spear attacks of the three women, while their compatriots kept trying to run away. Interestingly enough, the entire group were a mix of races, though the men were Malay and Chinese while the women were all three races from Malaysia.

“Jangan jalan!” One of the men, waving his sabre around kept shouting. “Stop running. Kita mesti lawan sama-sama! If we don’t fight together, we’ll lose!”

“Bodoh! You can die first.” Clutching his stomach, one of the other men headed backwards.

As though incensed by his compatriots words, the shouting man shifted aside, opening a gap. Sensing it, one of the women thrust her spear forward, plunging the weapon directly into the back of the running man, skewering him.

“Rani! Keep to the line!” Swinging her own halberd, she beat aside the leader’s swinging sabre, barely saving the flinching Rani’s arm.

“Sorry sis!” Pulling her spear back as she retreated, the group kept fighting.

Arthur crouched in the bushes, biting his lip. He wasn’t sure who was in the right, who was the aggressor. It was clear the fight was for keeps – both groups were bloodied and injured and willing to kill. In fact, as he hesitated, he saw a hand skewered, a leg chopped and then the owner impaled in short order, leaving the leader and one injured man left.

“No way. I give up. Mercy!” Throwing his own parang aside, he put his hands together and collapse to one injured knee. “Please, sis!”

“Fool!” the leader snarled, suddenly reaching to his side. That motion left him open for Rani to thrust with her spear, over-extending again. It was because of that she was caught when he threw the powder in the air, purple dust and smoke exploding across the clearing and obscuring vision.

The Indian woman stumbled back, clutching at her eyes, waving her spear carelessly in protection. The others all retreated, the haldberd-wielding leader pulled the group back till they were in a tight line whereupon she hissed.

“Violet poison mist. Low grade poison. Just take the antidote pill and wash your eyes out. And stop breaking the line, Rani!”

Spluttering around the water she poured onto her own face, her spear dropped to the ground, Rani grumbled. “I hit him! I felt it go in.”

“But now he’s gone…” the leader muttered as the poison mist disappeared, showing that other than the corpses of those they had been fighting including the thrashing body of the man who had attempted to give up, the leader was missing.

“Yeah, well. We have other problems.” One of the other girls said, turning and pointing her weapon at where Arthur was hiding. “Get out here, you coward. Don’t think I can’t smell you!”

Cursing, Arthur stared at the now aggressive looks the group shot him, debating what to do.

Damn his curiosity and greed.