The Third Realm - Chapter 15 preview (Patreon)

Travel through the deep wilds was both intimately familiar to Wu Ying and a new adventure every day. Trekking further west with each step, he traversed the longitudinally elongated kingdom of Jin, lush forests slowly giving way to drier, more temperate climates.

Even as the climate changed, so did the herbs he found. More than once, he would return to civilization to purchase books of herbology, trading herbs, coin and at times, expertise for glimpses into Sect library’s. Not to the restricted section on cultivation manuals or exercises, but the dusty, unused corners where books on gathering lay, hidden behind more well known and trekked sections of apothecarist scrolls on the care and feeding of plants and herbs lay.

Days and weeks spent in well-lit libraries, pouring over notes and transcribing them to his own manuals, expanding upon the documentation and knowledge he had acquired. Correcting or amending mistakes, drawing new illustrations or making minor amendments to the ones he had drawn. Sometimes, going so far s to keep multiple pages of the same ostensible herb so that he could locate and verify for himself.

Tedious work, but necessary.

Along with that came experimentation and verification. Growing plans espoused by one author or another, gardens that were carefully tended in one sect or left to run wild in another, Wu Ying viewed them all and tested in his own World Spirit Ring. Entire fields, set-apart to verify against the most promising remarks – and some truly strange scribblings.

Did it make a difference if you used ground up dog or cat bones? Was watering plants only from water collected on the eleventh day of each month significantly different? Or did the springs of the Chu hills truly have restorative properties, for plants and people?

In the midst of such work, Wu Ying cultivated. Nights in his guest rooms, eyes half-closed, pulling energy into his body. Twilight, as the sun set and the temperature changed, when the winds came rushing through the buildings; stretching and going through his forms.

And always, always; the Never Empty Wine Pot method, rotating in his center. Yet, as time went on; he modified the exercise. He had already done so, when he gained his Wind Body – his aura, not an impervious barrier against attacks or chi; but a series of gullies and cyclones. Drawing forth energy and then rejecting it, searching for wind chi.

Amusingly, in the height of summer – a small by-product; a constant circulation of wind about him that kept him cool; contained such that it never disturbed the environment around him unless he so chose. After all, it made little sense to hide from beasts if one had a dust devil giving away one’s location.

More though, it was his dantian and the constant suction of energy within that he altered. Instead of a whirlpool, he drew from his battle with the Guerilla General, forming an internal cyclone. There was no heat in his dantian, but it did not preclude his ability to form the dantian. A whirlpool of energy from the wind chi in his dantian swirled at his command, rising and dropping, pulling energy into his dantian in a never-ending cycle. At the bottom, anchored to the end of the twister was his Core.

The altered Never Empty Wine Pot method, empowered by leaking Core Formation energy into his dantian to create the cyclone was more powerful. His broader, stronger meridians strained at first under the new burden placed upon it, leaving Wu Ying sore and exhausted in the first few weeks.

Days of practice with his Wind Forms and soaking in medicinal baths aided his adjustment, allowing Wu Ying to cleanse and personalize the environmental chi that came through his body. Wind chi flowed, soaking into bones and muscles, altering them ever so slightly, offering him strength and speed even as the majority entered his dantian.

It was still slower, much slower, than staying still and meditating. Finding the proper location, cultivating in desolate mountains and pounding waterfalls or cultivation chambers still provided the greatest results; but trapped in study rooms and dusty libraries, arms elbow deep in soil and compost, Wu Ying had no such luxury.

Spring turned into summer, summer into fall and leaves fell and Wu Ying wandered the state of Jin. Visiting sects, providing herbs and pills, learning and training in equal measure. Occasionally, he was drawn into minor squabbles; but for the most part, Wu Ying found himself left alone.

Just another wandering cultivator.

In time, what he could learn from the central wind dissipated, the western wind taking over in its entreaties. He had progressed far, in his wind body forms, in his search for the heavenly wind. He found traces now, more often though it was not finished.

Green rolling hills turned into light brown clay hills, desert lands and deep crags as moisture disappeared and the sea was but a distant memory on the wind. The Western wind howled, speaking of vast lands of sand, thriving oasis and clay-built villages where the travels of merchants criss-crossed.

As suddenly as the weather changed, fall turned to winter and the lightest dusting of snow on a cold desert night, catching Wu Ying by surprise as its sudden onset. Days grew colder, nights freezing and the wildlife changed.

A simple decision then, to head towards the beckoning lights of civilization in the west and the complex, spicy scents of cooked food.

***

The boy was panting as he ran, one hand holding the sword by his side in a white-knuckled grip. His clothing was dirty and unkempt, the thread worn and the style from the everyday labourers that encompassed the morass of civilization. He tore down the hard packed earth that made up the outposts attempt at a road, the evening’s crescent moon staring down at him as he ran for his life.

Behind him, men and dogs tore after the boy. The pursuers were laughing, releasing their grip on the dogs leashes and letting them near the teenager before pulling backwards, the snap of terrible jaws closing on his heels. They ran with easy strides, their higher cultivation allowing them to keep up with the poor child with ease.

The child stumbled, his sandals catching on an uneven path of the road. An arm shot out, taking the brunt of the fall even as he tucked his head downwards to stare at his stomach, moments before his shoulders the ground. Rolling with the fall, the boy managed to rise halfway upwards before a dog clamped down on his leg, yanking hard.

“Damn it, Ah Keong! Why did you let hei guo catch him? Now the fun is over.” Cursing, the smallest member of the group, his tunic open to showcase the emanciated chest he sported swaggered over to the boy, cuffing the dog to make it let go.

Hei guo whined, but released the boy who backed off immediately. Pushing himself to his feet while favouring his wounded and bleeding leg, he glared at the other man, one hand falling to the hilt of the sword he had held onto through all this.

The cruel eyes of the leader narrowed. “You don’t want to do that, boy. Stealing our Master’s sword was one thing, but drawing it on us… well, we won’t just beat you now.”

“It’s not his sword!” The boy screamed, pulling the blade out and pointing the edge at the other man. “It’s my family’s! He stole it from my father, when he cut him down.”

Leaning back a little from the point, the thin leader smirked. “He should have paid the protection fees. He thought just because he was an Energy Storage cultivator he was something special. Wasn’t that special, was he, when we cut him down?”

Screaming in rage, the boy launched himself forward and cut. He swung and swung, rage and injury marring his form. Almost disdainfully, the other man backed away, leading the boy into the encirclement of his other men before he gestured.

The child never saw the strike coming, the stick cracking across the back of his knuckles and forcing the jian to fall to the ground. He cried, clutching at the injury, bones shattered by the casual strike.

“Now, don’t say I didn’t warn you, boy…” Nodding to the others, the leader stepped back as the other thugs closed in on the child who had dropped to his knees, attempting to grab at the weapon. A foot on the blade stopped his desperate attempts, even as fists were raised.

A sudden wind ripped through the surroundings, throwing dust and sand across the pounded earth road, forcing the thugs and child to cover their eyes. When the wind died down, a man was standing beside them, regarding the scene with cold brown eyes.

***

The entire scene had been watched by Wu Ying impassively from a distance as he had journeyed towards the outpost. Only when he noticed the imminent beating and demise had he chosen to act, allowing the wind to carry him forwards. At the same time, he relaxed his control of his aura, so that his presence would leak outwards. Otherwise, he would come off as no more than another mere mortal – albeit a well-dressed one. Now, he would register as a late or peak Energy Storage cultivator, with potentially deeper reserves of energy – depending on the quality of their aura senses.

Unlike the previous kingdom, aura sensing seemed to be particularly strong here. The techniques he had seen used varied significantly, though spiritual senses, visual and audio sensing seemed to be the favourites. He assumed it had something to do with the desolate environment – so many of the spirit beasts here were ambush predators.

He had even purchased a couple of scrolls on improving his physical senses to study during quiet evenings. There were, unsurprisingly, no scrolls on spiritual sense improvement available to a mere wandering cultivator. Still, it never hurt to supplement one’s existing education, even as he came to rely on the winds and his spiritual senses more and more.

Idle thoughts, as the group reoriented to his presence. They moved with surprising alacrity and discipline, a single member keeping a foot on the boy, a sword drawn and pressed against his chest to ensure he tried nothing. The others spread out to face him, even as they probed at his aura.

Wu Ying idly rebuffed their advances once they pushed pass the initial impression he intended to give off, content to leave them guessing. As it stood, even normally, his small core – layered twice over by now – was still smaller than most beginning Cores.

“Who are you?” the swaggering, thin leader stepped forward, glaring at Wu Ying. Even so, he made sure to stay out of Wu Ying’s sword range, overconfident or not.

“A passing stranger,” Wu Ying replied.

“Senior, help me!” the boy, on the ground, cried out. Any further words were choked out as his face was ground into the earth and the point of the sword dipped deeper into his chest.

“Don’t think I won’t kill you, boy!” his assailant, a man with a surprisingly high pitch for the intimidating, muscular demenour that he had threatened.

“It’s a small thing, Expert. A private matter. If you don’t hurry though, the doors of the outpost will close,” the leader said with a smile. He gestured to the side and his men shuffled out of the way for Wu Ying to pass by.

Wu Ying nodded, walking by the group. He noticed them tense, the group going so far as to stop breathing and their hands gripping tight on their weapons as he passed by the line. The boy struggled a little, muffled noises as he tried to say something. The blade pushed deeper, stilling the child for a brief moment.

Tension ratcheted up further as Wu Ying, having passed the line stopped as he was perpendicular to the boy and his captor. He turned his head sideways, staring down at the figure.

“Expert…” the leader spoke up, hesitantly. A small gesture by his side was enough for his mean to begin the process of spreading out.

“Your form was contemptible. Your grip was decent, but you let your emotions control your actions. You have reached the Minor Achievement but your mind needs to be strengthened,” Wu Ying said, not even looking at the two figures. “That weapon is good, though too good for you at your stage of cultivation and learning.”

A Saint-jian? No, way too much for a child.

The boy forced himself upwards, driving the sword into his own back just so he could get enough space to speak. “Please, help me!”

A shove, the boot coming down and slamming the boy’s face into the ground. The blade was ripped outwards, blood fountaining as the assailant repositioned it to finish the fight.

Wu Ying’s finger flicked, a sliver of solidified sword intent striking the man’s hand. The weapon flew form it as the sword was struck away, and a second later, another sliver of sword intent – blunted this time and more chi than intent – struck the man in his chest, driving him off the child.

“You don’t know who you are challenging!” the leader snarled, the ring of weapons heralding faster movement by the group as they moved to surround the group.

The boy tried to stand up, his back pouring blood from the wound behind.

Wu Ying snorted. “Stay down. Also, eat this and cultivate.”

The pill bottle flew through the air, striking the boy in the chest as he missed the initial toss before catching as it bounced. He pulled the pill bottle open, the smell of its content drifting outwards so suddenly that the entire group froze. The Energy Storage level Gecko’s Body Pill was a rare healing pill, meant to restore wounds of much greater degree than a simple stab in the back.

It was, by its presence and simple gifting a declaration of strength and intent.

Also, coincidentally, the least powerful healing pill that Wu Ying had. Being a Body Cultivator came with a lot of advantages, but it also came with the drawback that it required powerful healing pills to even begin the process of fixing him, especially at the Wind Body stage.

“Thank you, Expert.” The words came out wheezily, and the boy flopped down, downing the pill without further complaint.

Another gesture, again down low, as though he was trying to be subtle. The men moved, launching themselves at Wu Ying. He was mildly amused to notice they were using a formation to attack him. Crude, sloppy in execution, but still a fighting formation. Meant to distract, strike at his blind spots and win. Good enough, in its execution, to deal with any normal Energy Storage expert.

The wind gusted, whispering their movements to him as it passed them by. He did not bother to even draw his jian, blocking and striking with his bare hands. Occasionally, he released a blade of sword intent, striking his attackers and sending them flying back.

After achieving the Heart of the Sword, he no longer needed a weapon in hand. Not for something like this, not to block a weapon as it passed him by, not to strike with the knife edge of his hand as he swung it to send one or the other flying back.

Not to beat the half-dozen fighters and leave them bleeding from wounds across their body.

A dozen breaths and the fight was over.

“Leave. I’ve been merciful thus far,” Wu Ying murmured. “Do not test me again.”

The leader stared at Wu Ying, at the bow whose consumption of the pill had begun to strip away the bruises on his face and had stopped the flow of blood from his back. His lips curled upwards, then he smoothed it out when he realized Wu Ying was staring at him.

“I will inform my Master of this. You will regret having crossed the Broken Earth and Sky Gang!” the leader snapped, waving his people to come with him. He edged off the road, gathering his groaning, limping and injured people and led them back towards the Outpost.

Wu Ying watched them go impassively before letting out a sigh.

“You do not need to watch over me, Honored Benefactor,” the boy opened his eyes and broke out of his cultivation. “I can handle myself from here.”

“If you waste my pill, I will beat you till you wished they had caught you,” Wu Ying snapped at the kid. The boy’s eyes widened and then snapped shut, as the killing intent Wu Ying let leak out frightened him into submission.

Of course he would not do that. But the pill was so over-powered for the child, if he was smart and grasped the opportunity, he might even cleanse another meridian.

As for the stumbling, running away gang? Well, he would handle them when it came to it. However, Wu Ying did extend his spiritual senses a little more, made a request for the wind and watched as the area before them was shrouded in sand as the winds picked up and blew, choking the gang as they ran.

No need to make it easy on child beaters after all.

***

Twenty minutes later, Wu Ying nodded as he watched the boy start sweating. A small exertion of will had the wind take hold of the smell exuding from the child, to pull the stench away from Wu Ying. He knew that smell all too well and saw no point in suffering it right now. Instead, he waited, as the child sweated and exuded the black, sticky impurities of a breakthrough.

Time passed, Wu Ying content to wait and watch. He listened to conversations brought to him as the gang finally made it back to the outpost, the creaking of the doors opening and finally, their entrance to a building. One covered by talismans blocking any subtle spying.

Of course, he could break it – but he had done enough so far. Perhaps in the future…

Well.

This was a fascinating new predicament.

He waited, considering his options. Entrance to the outpost would be difficult. Fighting the gang for the boy was possible, but it would not solve the child’s long-term problems. More so, he did not need the outpost, though selling some of his herbs and the demon and spirit stones he had collected would have been convenient.

Wu Ying closed his eyes for a moment, letting his thoughts and soul still. He waited, curious to see what would happen when the boy finished his cultivation, curious if the Gang would exit. Curious to see where the wind would blow.

Eventually, the child exhaled a mouthful of turbid air, eyes opening. Or attempting to. Blood and waste products had gummed up his eyes, leaving him struggling as he wiped it clear – or attempted to. Only to fail as he just spread the filth further.

Laughing to himself, Wu Ying extracted a water pouch and emptied it in the air, willing the wind to give the boy an impromptu shower. The pouch was enchanted, meant to draw water from the surroundings and purify it – much like the item he had once acquired in his sect.

A useful spiritual tool for the dessert.

Spluttering, the bow wiped and cleaned himself, tearing a rag free of his own shirt to finish the job. It left his face streaked, but at least clean enough to pry his eyes open.

“Honorable Benefactor. My thanks. I apologise for the late greetings. I am Li Shi Min,” the boy spoke up, his young teenage face earnest with gratitude but also touched with a hint of suspicion.

Those words… something resounded in Wu Ying’s memory. And he smiled, as a decision was made. “Clean yourself.”

The boy hesitated, but sniffing at his own body, he understood. He bent down, grabbing handfuls of the fast cooling sand and shucking his shirt aside as he rubbed the sand on his skin, scouring himself clean. Again and again, he repeated the process, on his chest, his face and his legs till he was finally done.

It was not a complete job, but it took the majority of the filth on his body away, even if it left him red-faced and bleeding.

Then, Wu Ying spoke. “Come.”

Silence behind him, as Wu Ying retracted his steps down the road towards the mountains. He did not look back, content to keep walking. Content to allow the boy to choose. He could almost feel the boy’s apprehension and hesitation behind him, before he chased after Wu Ying.

By the time he caught up to Wu Ying, he had his sword sheathed and belted by his side. Glancing at the boy, Wu Ying deliberately shifted his own hand, placing it on the hilt of his own sword and adjusting its angle a little to ensure the sheath would not catch.

Nothing.

No reaction from the child who stared at his back. Instead, he opened his mouth to speak.

“Honored Benefactor…” he began.

Right. A little slow then.

Smiling a little smile, Wu Ying sped up, just a touch. And then again, forcing the boy to first hurry and then lope after before eventually turning into a full run, his breath no longer available to ask foolish questions. Adjusting his own speed and simplifying the movement technique of the Wind Steps, Wu Ying ensured he was always just ahead of the boy, the wind pushing backwards from him to take away the child’s stench.

And so they journeyed, into the desert and the broken canyons, along a pounded, dusty earth road under a crescent moon.