The Third Realm - Chapter 41 & Epilogue preview (Patreon)

“You’ve done well,” Laoban Yang said, eyeing Wu Ying as he exited his cultivation daze. The older man was seated on one of the many boulders that made up the rock garden, perched cross-legged on the sharp tip.

A few days had passed since Wu Ying had lost consciousness on that fated night. Since then, he had been forcibly commanded to recuperate and train the newly reorganized Never Empty Wine Pot method at the inn. Thankfully, no additional fights had occurred, Beggar Soh having left the next morning early in the day after absconding with a half-dozen plucked and stewed chickens and a pot of cooked rice.

“Thank you, Senior,” Wu Ying said. He exhaled a lungful of turbid air, watching it float away, carried off by a gust of wind, and stood up smoothly. “The new technique is profoundly stronger than the original. I must admit, I am still troubled by Master Soh’s missive.”

“Hah! Still can’t come up with a proper name?” Laoban Yang slapped his crossed right thigh, his movements never even causing a minor wobble as he perched on his peculiar seat. “Surely you have named other techniques before.”

“Only one,” Wu Ying said.

“Huh,” Laoban Yang said. “I guess you are still young…”

“And busy cultivating,” Wu Ying said, flashing back to Beggar Soh’s assertion. “Creating and naming techniques have been low on my priority list.” He shrugged after a moment. “I fear I have no talent for it.”

“There is nothing wrong with following the footsteps of seniors. Technique creation is but an accumulation of knowledge mixed with flashes of insight.” He gestured into the empty inn and the busy trading post. “Some are just more gifted at it than others. I, myself, have only authored a half-dozen or so.”

Wu Ying bobbed his head in acknowledgment, though he chose not to note that a half dozen was not a small number either. Then again, comparison was the thief of joy and living with a genius like his wife and being friends with the infamous Beggar Soh was likely to create concern for any.

“But on the subject at hand…” Putting his head in a propped-up hand, the laoban hummed to himself in thought. “How about the Dragon’s Cultivating Cyclone?”

“I fear I might overuse such a tenuous connection,” Wu Ying said. “Anyway, there are so many dragon titled text, it will easily be forgotten.”

“Right, right. So no plum blossoms, lotuses, phoenix, rainfall, fires or waterfalls then. Or anything to do with heaven or hell or overthrowing it.”

Wu Ying nodded firmly.

“Difficult, difficult. I just named mine after me…” Laoban Yang grinned. “Yang family techniques is more than sufficient!”

“Yang family fist. Yang family foot. Yang family throw. Yang family swallowing dumplings!”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes… wait!” Laoban Yang turned in his seat, moving too fast and tipping himself off to land on the ground.

“Yang family alcohol swilling. Yang family cleaning the bowels.”

“That was an important technique!” the flustered father protested, waving a hand helplessly from where he lay.

“Yang family flame control.” Finished Yang Mu, the eldest daughter with a smirk. “Did I forget any, father?”

“You shouldn’t be telling a stranger our techniques,” the Laoban protested, standing up and dusting himself off.

“Our guest will not tell anyone. He is well mannered, well-spoken and highly regarded among both the tribes, the sects and wandering cultivators,” the girl continued to speak, hands on her hips as she glared at her father. “Unlike someone who runs an inn that drains all his wife’s profits!”

Letting out a long groan, the man clutched his heart. Turning to Wu Ying, he spoke. “You see what happens when your children grow? They turn on you. Why, I remember a time when my little Mu used to run to me, her bare butt swinging in the wind and climbed up my leg even before her mother had finished dressing her!

“Now, all she can do is accuse me of cheating the heart of my soul.”

Flushing red, the daughter flicked a hand sending a metal dart at her father. He caught it easily, but not before Yang Mu had turned on her heels and stalked off.

“I hesitate to comment, but perhaps your words are part of the reason she is so against you?” Wu Ying said, softly. He had no desire to step between the family, but they had been more than generous with him such that he felt some obligation.

“Oh, for certain! But Yang Mu has been stymied in her cultivation for months now. She must walk a new road, to gain enlightenment but refuses to do so. She is bound here by loving kindness and consideration, and so I must agitate her to leave.” He cocked his head to the side, eyeing Wu Ying sideways. “Unlike someone who cannot stay still. You are ready to depart already, are you not?”

“I…” Wu Ying hesitated, before nodding. “I am. I have mastered the basics of the Cyclone’s Breath technique. The rest may be trained as I go.”

“The Cyclone’s Breath. You came up with just now?” At Wu Ying’s nod, the man nodded. “I like it.”

Wu Ying acknowledged his words, even as he sent his own senses within to check on the technique. There was no longer a deep spiral that pulled energy towards him, not in his dantian or in his meridians itself. Instead, the cyclone originated far out of himself, touching upon the external environment via the smallest traces of his own chi and dao intent.

The environmental wind energy that he touched in this manner moved to his command. Forming a vortex that was many li wide, such that the movement was imperceptible to others unless one knew what to search for. The end of the vortex was Wu Ying, but it would be perceived instead as a minor increase in cultivation speed as each step closer to him, the environmental wind chi would grow more and more attuned to him.

In this way, when it flowed towards Wu Ying, it was imperceptible to most and entered his form in its entirety, flowing through his aura and body without impediment. No longer did he have to reject other forms of chi, since the kind he required was already on its way to him.

Just like the actual gourd, the new Cyclone’s Breath was as subtle as it was powerful, increasing Wu Ying’s moving, never-ending cultivation speed by a factor of two or three times compared to his previous technique.

More importantly, unlike the previous method which Wu Ying had often to stop using in the deep wilds in fear of Core or Nascent Soul beasts noticing him, this new method was undetectable. Or, theoretically, at least. After all, he had yet to put it to a real test.

“Where will you go?” the Laoban asked.

“South,” Wu Ying said with a small smile. “The wind beckons.”

“Ah.” The Laoban made a face, prompting Wu Ying to follow up on a thread of a previous conversation.

“The rumors of what is happening in the Dai kingdom is troubling.”

“I know little of them, I must admit,” Wu Ying said. He had intended to acquire more information as he went further south, visiting local bookstores and libraries to learn more. He had, after all, learnt that lesson. However, the Proprietress was not the correct individual to acquire such mundane information.

Or so he had thought.

“Our history with them is complex. Some consider them naught more than another, splintered kingdom from the time of the Yellow Emperor. Others, however, see them as barbarians. Their customs are not our own, though they share many similarities.” The Laoban waved a hand, dismissing the topic. “All those things matter little, to one like you. More importantly, they are a kingdom only in names, but an amalgamation of cities who control the land around them whilst beating back a rampant forest.

“A forest that breeds demonic and spirit beast in greater numbers than many would consider natural.”

Wu Ying recalled now the discussion, of how many beast stones flowed northward from the monsters taken from the edges of more civilized locations. Of tales of forests that regrew overnight, and logging villages that would grow silent, only for travelling merchants to find them empty, the remnant buildings bloodstained.

“You recall the stories, then.”

“Yes. I had always imagined them much further than the Dai though…” Wu Ying admitted.

“Hah! Only a wanderer like you would think a few thousand li a small distance.”

There was no suitable answer to such an accusation, so Wu Ying just shrugged.

“Well, in any case, it is the border – and the enchanted forests that lie close to it – that see a significant number of stones. It has made the kingdoms close to the border wealthy and arrogant,” Laoban Yang said. “But even that is no matter to us.”

“Then what is, Senior?”

“Rumors of something darker growing in the forest to the south. Something dangerous. My wife has seen it, in the type of stones we get from the south. More demonic stones than before. Larger and even more corrupted. Twisted, in a way. Useless but for powering the most basic of formations.” He shook his head. “Normally, I would not even speak of such rumors. Most of our guests will never travel that far south or, if they did, have a chance to see it for themselves. But…”

“I’m a Gatherer. And where the demonic beasts go, I do too.”

“Yes.”

Wu Ying inclined his head and murmured a word in thanks, only to stop when the Laoban raised a hand.

“I have one last request.” Wu Ying’s guts clenched for he knew what the man would ask. His mind spun, wandering if all the generosity, all the care offered to him, even the deals had been a long laid plan. Then, he pushed those uncharitable thoughts aside to listen. “Keep an eye out for the problems. If what we see is an unnatural alteration, a tilting towards the demonic, then we ask that you do what you can.”

Wu Ying exhaled a little, hearing the words he had dreaded. Yet, at the same time, he felt the winds, the heavenly wind gust, bringing with it that sharp, merciless texture. It pushed upon his robes, entered his body, pressured his soul with its demands.

Heaven’s orders, brought by the winds of those above. A command, to seek something foul, something dark in the south. And perhaps, a final reward – an understanding of the wind he had sought for so long, a grasping of its complexity.

For how could you chase the heaven’s, and yet, not bow towards its commands?

Noticing Wu Ying’s hesitation, the Laoban continued. “Rotten meat should be cut off and thrown aside, long before it spoils the dish. Left alone, it will grow worse. Best to cook the meat properly immediately, before it corrupts the rest of your larder.”

“Of course. Root rot is the same,” Wu Ying said. “I will go, and if fate places me upon the right path, if the wind blows in such a way…”

“Good man.” A big hand came down on Wu Ying’s shoulder, before the Laoban stepped away and headed back inside. “I’ll let my wife know you’ll be leaving us soon. She’ll be sad to see you go, but grateful for you for looking into it. Hard to run a store, when all the product that arrives is sub-par.”

Wu Ying snorted, watching the man put on a mercenary face once more. Perhaps he and his wife might not be part of any orthodox sect – though, Wu Ying had doubts of that too – but they certainly were more than just a pair of merchants.

An unusual pair, that drew an unusual clientele. But that was why he had come after all.

***

“I am thankful for being willing to look into my minor issues of getting an adequate supply of untainted cores,” Proprietress Yang said, not even an hour later. The pair were seated in a private room, the wares that he had been reviewing spread out before them once more. “But you understand, of course, that business is business?”

“I do.” Wu Ying swept his gaze over the formations before them. He had set aside the obscuration formation to allow him to rest. They’d also discussed and agreed upon a simple earth-aspected protective formation - The Earth’s Embrace – to guard over him. It was an ugly formation, pulling upon the earth itself to form a dome of protection but it had the advantage of being cheap – due to its features – and reusable.  Now, they argued over the last formation Wu Ying intended to purchase. “However, surely you can do better on the price.”

“For a slaughter formation, one created from the dao conceptions of a Heart-level dao wielder who walked the path of blood and carnage?” Proprietress Yang shook her head firmly. “Do you think such formations are easy to create or acquire? That it is not in high demand?”

“Of course not. But how effective is it, if he has only achieved the Heart of the Dao?” Wu Ying said. “I myself have achieved the Heart of the Jian. It is not that rare…”

“So speaks the sword genius! Not one in a thousand martial cultivators reach the Heart of their weapon. And you speak as though it’s as easy as finding gold under a rock.”

“You just have to lift enough of them, after all.”

“Then carve your own jian-based slaughter formation!”

“Perhaps I will.”

Her fingers touched the edge of the formation flag, the woman looking hesitant at his biting retort. “Do you understand what you ask for? This formation can kill even one in the Nascent Soul stage. It has only a single use, but deployed properly by a formation master, it will definitely kill one caught in its center.” Cocking her head to the side, she added. “For you to use it, it might only injure them greatly. But still, it can be a lifesaving item to hold in reserve.

“If you were not who you were, if your heart was not as pure… I would never let this item go. As it is, I have deep concerns.”

Wu Ying inclined his head in acknowledgement. Good deeds, sown far and wide had a tendency to sprout surprising seeds. Though, it also had seen him flee in the night as others tried to steal from him. So. And so.

“I understand, Proprietress Yang. But I refuse to enter the south, do your bidding without at least a few assurances of my survival.”

“We could provide an escape talisman,” Proprietress Yang said. “We have numerous Spirit Horses, a Moonlight Rider one, even. And then, there are the Ten Thousand Step Earth Channels, or if you choose the wooden path; One Tree, One Root talisman.”

“Tell me more.”

Wu Ying listened, quickly garnering an understanding. The Moonlight Rider spirit talisman was but a variation of the basic spirit horse talisman, most powerful at night. It supposedly allowed one to move as fast as moonlight itself, or so the creator liked to say. In reality, the Moonlit Spirit Horse that the talisman conjured was only three times as fast as your regular Spirit Horse. Or just about as fast as Wu Ying, when he chose to step with the wind.

Both the Earth and Wood escape talismans worked via the control of the creator’s dao conceptions, pulling Wu Ying along the ground for ten thousand or so steps. It would take him out of immediate danger so long as he stood upon the earth, sucking him within and then transferring him in the direction of his intent.

The One Tree, One Root talisman was similar, though its eventual exit point was more random due to the requirements that the plants be connected via a root or branch system of some form. Minor gaps could be jumped, though it did drain the energy in the talisman itself.

“Those are good. I’d take the Ten Thousand Step Earth Channels escape talisman. And maybe the One Root talisman, if it is not too expensive.” Sadly, both talismans would degrade a little in effectiveness when used by one with his wind body. However, it was because no one would expect one with such an ability to own such talismans that he found them worthwhile. “But I still want the slaughter formation.”

Letting out a long huff of frustration, the Proprietress nodded. “Very well. I’ll still charge you for it at my full price, you understand.” At Wu Ying’s nod, she smiled a little. The price was staggering – a large number of the cores he had acquired whilst travelling as well as many of his rarer plants. Even the years spent in closed door cultivation had only allowed him to regrow what had been lost before, leaving him rather penniless after this transaction. At least, till another few years had passed and he had regrown his stock or found some rarer stock.

Which, in truth, the journey to the south had the hallmarks of great benefit.

“What else do you desire, Cultivator Long? Another sword?”

Wu Ying glanced down at the only Saint-level jian he carried. It had been worn away, over the years of use, but was still in good repair. Thankfully, he had not tried to use it on anything too hard – like the scales of a dragon. Other than the shorter straight sword he had acquired from the Viscount, he actually lacked appropriately leveled weapons.

“A jian of the same quality if you have one. Two, if the price is right.”

“And a bow?’

Wu Ying shook his head. He had, once again, put aside the use of the bow. Ever since he had grown stronger and faster, he no longer needed a ranged weapon. Attempting to match a Core Formation user who specialized in the bow was a fool’s errand, or so he had learnt whilst in the north. Better to concentrate one’s training.

“Of course. Why would the wind require a bow?” she nodded. “I know you do not require armor, for we glimpsed what you wore underneath.”

Surprisingly, the emerald armor he had acquired was quite well suited for donning constantly, easily concealed in normal circumstances beneath his robes. Unless, of course, one fainted from repeated dao clashes of Nascent Soul cultivators and poisoning after a night out.

“The Coral Dragon Scales will do me quite well,” Wu Ying acknowledged. Of course, they were not actual dragon scales, just a popular name for the fine scalemail production. “I am grateful for its presence.”

“As you should be. A Saint-jian, I have three with me but I will only be willing to release one to yourself. A merchant must have stock for all their customers, and if you intend to take my slaughter formation…” Proprietress Yang said, smiling a small secret smile.

Wu Ying smiled, shaking his head. “I enjoy collecting blades, it is true, Senior Yang. But I am no sword saint, nor a sword fanatic. You cannot bribe me with more blades, not if it means giving up a life saving measure.”

She laughed, leaning back. “Am I that easy to see through? A babe in swaddling robes reads me like a master merchant. All my years of experience are but ashes before your eyes.”

“And now, you play the fool.” Wu Ying’s lips quirked into a smile still though. “Perhaps if I had not watched you do the same with Senior Soh and your husband, I might perhaps be tricked.” He nodded to her hand which she had removed from the slaughter formation flag in the interim. “Nor do you truly not wish me to leave without this formation. I think, like me, you have an intuition that I shall need it. Or something more powerful.”

Silence greeted his bold words, before the woman sighed.

“You speak truth. There is a foreboding in me, that we ask you to journey into the tiger’s lair, slathered in pig fat.”

“All the better to draw the tiger out, no?”

“And yet, you have yet to breakthrough.”

“I’m a Body Cultivator, Senior. I grow different,” Wu Ying said, touching his chest. “Though I cultivate the soul too.”

“As we all do. You are and wise, to grow both. But what might come…” She closed her eyes then opened them, pushing the flags over. “Sit. I’ll gather the jian and then, we will discuss the final price.”

Wu Ying nodded, watching her leave quickly, frowning a little. Still, he could not help but pull the slaughter formation closer. Intuition perhaps, a foretelling offered by the Dao, or a hint from the heavens. He knew not, but that he would need it on his journey.

And more.

***

Behind his back, the temple rose above. He had visited it and the statue of the Goddess of Mercy once more, though his visit was brief. The winds of heaven blew heavy in that place, pushing him south even as the wind itself whispered of darker secrets to be learnt. In that presence of heavenly commands and dire omens, Wu Ying found himself finding enlightenment once again; his sense of the heaven’s winds finally growing strong enough that he could trace its presence.

Not understand it, not grasp it, not fully. But for the first time, he had the sense of it, the traces of the wind in his mind and soul. Here, where a family of cultivators broke with the common parlance, where they lived and laughed and cared for one another like mortals, he had found heaven’s will.

Now, he strode down the walkway, choosing to begin this journey on the ground. He paused as he began to turn the corner, casting a long look behind him. He touched his new storage ring, much larger, much lighter as he had traded away many of the smaller ones acquired over years of battle. Within, the formations and escape talismans and pills he had purchased sat.

A hand caressed the World Spirit Ring on his other hand, his first, his earliest momentous find. He would train with the newly acquired jian later, to give it its proper due. To extend his understanding of the weapon, to work on his forms.

Exhaling, Wu Ying looked up into the sky, blocking out the voices coming from the trading post and the worshippers that passed him by, instead listening to the wind. He sensed the change in the air, the heavy pressure that pressed upon his shoulders now, the urgent whispers that were not whispers.

He even caught a sniff of something rank, spoilt like burnt oil and diseased meat as the southern wind brought it forth. Brushing ethereal fingers across his face and along his neck. A small hint, of what was to come.

Just enough to alert him.

Wu Ying felt the sun beat down upon his face. He had grown strong over the years that had passed, the decade plus that he had left the Sect. He had layered his core, gained understanding and acceptance of four winds, with but another wind left to learn from.

His personal sword form grew, every day, with a single movement perfected and two others in budding development. He had tools and weapons in abundance, glistening armour and cultivation techniques and exercises that allowed him to dance with the wind and pass unseen among the darkest woods.

He had gained much in these years.

And now, it seemed, his vacation from the troubles of heaven and hell was over. He would journey south and seek the problem, no matter his words to the Laoban. He would learn of the troubling rise of demonic beasts and see to their eradication and those that might have cause to create them. He would set the world aright.

For heaven commanded, and man obeyed. Or all things would twist and rot.

###

The End of the Third Realm

Bonus Epilogue:

“That’s it! I’m done. Done, I tell you!” Yang Mu stormed around her room, waving a hand over the contents of her room, pulling them into her storage ring. The small room that she shared – gods, how small it was! –  with her sisters did not contain much, certainly not for the number of times she stalked about.

Most of their belongings were stored within storage chests or around the residence, in cultivation chambers or locked away in the library. Which left only personal belongings of sentimental value outside, like a particularly intricately designed purple fan or a scarf gifted to her when she had turned fourteen by Uncle Soh.

“What did PaPa do now?” Seated on her bed with her legs crossed, her sister watched Yang Mu stalk around, missing the fan for the third time as she ranted and raved.

“He, he, he compared me to a slug trying to chase after the wind!” Yang Mu snapped.

“The wind? Our guest?” Yang Jun said, wrinkling her nose a little. Of the pair, Yang Jun liked to think she was the prettier, with a smaller, cuter button nose and more delicate features. Yang Mu had more of her father’s nose, broader and flatter and a stronger jaw. Her sister might never be called beautiful, but she surely was striking.

“Well, PaPa never said it directly, of course. But who else could he be talking about?” Yang Mu said. “Acting as though I was mooning over him! All I did was ask if he was going to be okay, going south.”

“He’s going south? So MaMa and PaPa chose to send him?” Yang Jun said, eyes narrowing. “I thought they decided that was too dangerous.”

“Too dangerous for us,” Yang Mu snarled. “Not for the errant wind cultivator with his Heart of the Jian and his Core Formation soul. The Verdant Gatherer, whose story has begun to be told in provinces and kingdoms alike. Hero of the masses. Destroyer of sects. Saviour of the Viscount!

“No, it’s obviously safe for him.”

Slamming her fist down on a nearby table, she cracked the wood, nearly smashing apart the precious fan that had been resting there. As it flipped through the air, Yang Mu reached out and snatched the fan from the air, making it disappear into her ring moments later.

“No, I can’t see why PaPa thought you might be obsessed with him at all,” Yang Jun said, dryly.

Yang Mu glared at her sister, who returned her gaze calmly. When her sister looked away to continue packing, Yang Jun let herself smile a little, only to wipe it away when Yang Mu spun around quickly in an attempt to catch her sister.

She failed of course. They had lived with one another for too many years for such petty tricks to be so easily caught.

Yang Mu looked around one last time. There was nothing else to take, nothing that was hers. There was nothing left to delay her, no reason to put-off leaving.

As if sensing that thought, Yang Jun spoke up hastily. “Where will you go?”

Yang Mu said. “South. I’ll show them. Too dangerous, my bountiful purse!”

“Are you certain?” Concerned now, Yang Jun leaned forward. “MaMa and PaPa were not joking that it was dangerous. If they are right about what is to be expected….”

“I know,” Yang Mu said, raising her chin. “But there is no gain to be had, staying here. I cannot, will not stay under the roof with him.” No need for her sister to know which him that was, since there was only one man in their household. “And I won’t marry just because MaMa thinks I should settle down. Which leaves me no other choice.”

“You could go west. The kingdoms that way are mostly civilized.”

“Other than the Cai?”

“Other than the Cai,” Yang Jun admitted. “Still, safer.”

“I’m done with safe. I’m done with being the good daughter.”

Yang Jun hesitated, then stood up and went over to her sister, wrapping her in a hug. They held on to one another, before Yang Jun pushed away, staring up a little to meet her older sister’s eyes and whispered.

“Then be safe. Sacrifice the wind cultivator if you need to flee. Promise me!”

Yang Mu laughed and nodded, acknowledging the promise before separating herself fully.

“Wish MaMa well. Tell her I’ll be fine.” She paused, then added, reluctantly. “And PaPa.”

“Of course.” Not that either would need the words, not when the surrounding li were all under their spiritual sense. Still, courtesies had to be maintained.

One more hug, and then Yang Mu stalked off, leaving the trading post to head south. That she might follow after a wandering wind cultivator was entirely on purpose. One thing all the stories agreed on about the Verdant Gatherer.

He was an agent of chaos. If trouble was to be found, he would find it.

Good thing she had marked him as a potential thief a while ago, and she had a cultivation technique that would allow her track him without his knowing. After all, she had slipped the ingredients and the markers over a period of days as he had eaten her cooking.

Hah. Hero of the people indeed, to be tricked in such a manner!

In good spirits, she followed the trail, ignoring the sense of those watching above. Ignoring the tears that gathered at her eyes or clutched at her chest as she left home.

***

“Are you sure this is the right thing to do?” Proprietress Yang clutched her husband’s arm, staring at a blank wall later that evening. Beyond the wooden wall of their residence, a young woman strode, each step covering ground in a flicker of twisted space and motion.

“Certain? Of course not. But our daughter is not us. Her path is one of conflict and wonder, one born from new experiences and challenges. She has stagnated, the customers and even ourselves no longer a contest,” Laoban Yang replied. “I would have chosen another path for her, if we could…”

“If we could,” the Proprietress sighed, “we would do many things differently. Still, I fear for her.”

“She will be fine. We raised a strong and capable woman,” he said. “Also, Cultivator Long is quite gifted. One of the fated heroes, I think. A genius that will change our cultivation world, even if he does not see it himself.”

His words brought a deep look of sorrow to the Proprietress face. “They all look like fated heroes. Until, one day, fickle fortune turns and their fate is revealed to be but another cautionary tale. One about risk taking and the feckless whims of heaven.”

“He is not our son.”

“They never are. But I still miss him.”

To that, her husband had no answer. And so they stood, in their bedroom, holding one another, making silent, unheard pleas to the heavens to shine favourably upon their child.

###

The End of the Bonus Epilogue for the Third Realm

Follow Wu Ying’s continuing journey in the Third Cut