The Third Cut - Chapter 23 preview (Patreon)

Day after day, encounter after encounter. Battles became routine as they delved further, going from every few days to every other day to a daily occurrence. The team took turns doing battle, Bich Trang taking the opportunity to understand how the new additions to his group fought as well as integrating them into the battle themselves.

Wu Ying watched and learnt as well, gaining an understanding of the special unit and their tactics so he could integrate with them better. As expected, Thien Gang, Dinh Don and Bich Trang were the ones who handled the monsters directly while the other stayed back. Surprisingly, it was Minh Trac with his formations and talismans that contributed more to the battles while the bookish Phuong Vy rarely took action. On the other hand, when she did so, she did so by using drugged throwing knives that sunk into exposed flesh and caused fast-spreading numbness through limbs.

For all their vaunted prowess, it was clear that everyone other than Captain Ky was holding back during the battles. A certain degree of wariness existed between the groups that time together had yet to ablate, and so trump cards were hidden. Wu Ying kept to the modified forms of the Long family style, choosing not to wield the various cuts of the Wandering Dragon though he continued to play with the forms within his mind. Yang Mu never activated the advanced enscriptions on her enchanted fans during the battles, only allowing them to grow and shrink and return as she did battle. As for Tou He…

Wu Ying knew not what his friend kept hidden. His staff technique had in itself been modified, no longer the Mountain Abides form from before, a highly defensive technique, but a more aggressive blend of attacks and defenses. The ex-monk restrained his fire aura on the regular, but that was only good sense seeing as they were in a forest.

A sharp contrast to the bronze-based Captain Ky, whose own metal aura provided him a powerful defensive technique. His dao was difficult to pin down in its exactitude, though Wu Ying was certain it held strains of duty, fortitude and protection within. It reinforced his aura technique which, in itself, also built upon his metal element. Unlike Elder Po of the Verdant Green Waters sect who transformed himself into a metal itself, Be Long hardened the domain of his aura against attacks. It was both more subtle, easier to manipulate and discard and less effective at the same time.

On the other hand, Wu Ying watched as Be Long extended his metal aura in a spike from the back of his left shoulder, impaling the falling fist-sized leech before it reached him and then retract, discarding the corpse on reflex. It did it again, moments later near his foot, where another leech was attempting to attach itself to him.

The leeches were the latest assault, the team of Core Formation cultivators dealing with them in their own ways. Minh Trang had a floating series of talisman inscriptions that burnt out one after the other, each of them providing a moving defense against the leeches for himself and the scholar. Tou He, riding ahead of them flared his aura in a controlled manner, shrivelling those assaulting him and sending them squirming away for easier prey.

Yang Mu had subsumed her aura and that of her horse, such that the leeches themselves were unable to differentiate her from the trees, thus leaving her alone. It was a similar method to Dinh Don whose passage and scouting ahead of them had picked this route as theleast troublesome, threading their way between swamp grounds on the left and a group of ferocious demonic deer on the right.

Most interesting to Wu Ying was the Colonel’s method, in effect similar to the minor whirlwind that he utilized around himself to cast aside the leeches but in detail, not at all. There was no swirling air about her, no movement at all. It seemed as though the leeches, falling towards her were gripped and thrown by some force, swatted out of the air violently to splatter against trunks. Even after days of careful observation, Wu Ying could not penetrate the dense layer of defenses surrounding the colonel to ascertain her actual elemental attachment.

As the team finally left the shedding trees, Bich Trang waved them over to a small rise free of the vegetation. Sao Choi landed on a nearby rock, taking the meal that Bich Trang offered to him with great grace, even as its beak tore into the corpse with glee. The team took the moment to dismount, providing water and food for their horses and resting them whilst inspecting for any parasites they might have missed.

“How much longer?” Bich Trang asked Minh Trac, the formation master already having handed his reins to Phuong Vy whilst he drew out his compass.

“Future is cloudy, it’s hard to see…”

“I did not ask for excuses. I asked how much longer,” Bich Trang cut the man off impatiently.

“I’m trying to tell you.” Receiving her glare, he sighed. “A few days I believe. Then, the cloud of demonic energy grows too close, my ability to foretell disappears entirely. I will no longer be of use then.”

“As if you’ve been of any use now,” muttered Yang Mu.

“I foretold that night attack two days ago!” Minh Trac snarled. “The one that bypassed your formations, if you forget.”

“Just the first layer,” Yang Mu said, lifting her chin a little. “The Stalking Dragonfly would never have made it through the secondary defenses.”

“Not all of us sleep in enchanted tents,” Thien Giang said, sneering. “Some of us aren’t the spoilt princesses of powerful parents.”

“Or perhaps they just don’t consider you all worth investing in,” Yang Mu replied.

“You…”

“Enough.” Bich Trang commanded. The Colonel took off her helmet for a moment to wipe at her face, the humidity and heat of the jungle causing even the cultivators to sweat a little. “I’ve told you before, antagonizing one another aids no one. Be like the monk.”

“Ex-monk.” Tou He waved a banana leaf wrapped ball of glutinous rice at them. “But eating is a good idea, I concur.”

“That wasn’t what I meant.” Bich Trang looked upwards, eyeing the sun and then shrugged. “But now is a good time as any for lunch. Unless there are other dangers to be wary of?”

Dinh Don, riding up on his horse from ahead, body slumped over the saddle like a rice sack straightened at her words. “Always. But if we take our usual precautions, we should be safe enough.” He pointed to the south west. “We’ll have to swing that way anyway. There’s an abaonded village ahead, that’s now filled with Than Vong.”

“Than Vong?” Wu Ying asked, curiously as he peeled apart the glutinous rice cake he’d extracted from his storage ring.

“Ma Than Vong(6). Hanged ghosts,” Dinh Don clarified. “Folk tales say they are the vengeful ghosts of suicide victims. In truth, they are but a common middle kingdom demon, whose favourite method of warding off trespassers is to hang their victims from nearby trees. They leave the bodies to be picked apart by vermin and insects.”

“That’s what the wind has been telling me,” Wu Ying muttered to himself in surprised acknowledgement. “Flying bones and rotting corpses in trees indeed.” He cocked his head to the side, eyes going distant as he communed with the wind further before he shook his head.

“Problem, Cultivator Long?” Bich Trang asked. She had learnt to understand that his ability with the wind gave him a much broader sense of the world unlike her own scout. While Dinh Don recognized and was able to ascertain threats low in the earth – including guiding them around dangerous plants and a man-eating Nascent Soul trap door spider – his range was severely limited compared to Wu Ying’s own wind techniques.

“There’s another encampment down that way,” Wu Ying gestured in the direction that Dinh Don had indicated. “It’s a distance away, and it looks more newly built. Maybe an off-shoot from the original?” He shrugged, not knowing the answer to their living habits. “The bones are hung all along the way, till,” his hand traced the air, following the duiance of the wind and stopped nearly all the way due east.

“Too far. We can’t afford to go that far off our course,” Bich Trang said.

“We need to go to the village,” Minh Trac said suddenly, waving a piece of paper at the Colonel. He had been writing upon it since they had stopped. “There’s a lingering stain of disaster hovering over the village. It grows with each passing of the moon and will cause great misfortune in the future if it is not dealt with.”

Bich Trang was already shaking his head. “No. We can send a missive back to the City Lord telling him of the danger on his border, but our objective does not lie in the village.”

“My duty does though!” Be Long stepped forward, his body hunching inwards a little as he readied himself for an argument. “It sounds like dealing with the village now would be less troublesome than in the future. Especially with such a contingent of heroes gathered here.”

“It is not our mission,” Bich Trang repeated.

“It is your duty though, to support the city and the people.” Be Long said. “We must act for the greater good.”

“And dealing with the creeping corruption is the greater good.”

“Not if we leave behind an infection like this to spread.”

“My vision might be clouded, but I tell you truth, Colonel. This is a danger that must be dealt with,” Minh Trac said urgently. “It affects not just the city but could become a problem for the country.”

“It is that bad?”

Minh Trac nodded, soberly. “I see the rise of a demonic kingdom, one where humans are ruled by demons.”

Now it was time for Thien Gang to scoff, the woman laughing a little. “Oh, come on. Another demonic kingdom? How many can there be?” She shook her head. “That’s the third one you’ve seen.”

“I see possibilities, not certainties!” Minh Trac snapped. “The flow of time and fortune changes on the regular, as we interact with it. Yet, you forget our history if you think it cannot happen.”

“I forget nothing!”

“Enough,” Bich Trang held up her hand, quieting the two. “Minh Trac and his brethren have served the kingdom well. It was a predecessor of his that freed us from the clutches of the Mo Wang, and it is their vision that allows us to foresee attacks from the north.” A hard gaze landed upon the northerners, though it had little effect on the eating Tou He. Minh Trac was smiling, only for Bich Trang to continue. “But I still do not believe that our best choice is to deal with the matter now. We could come by after we have dealt with our primary mission.”

That mollified Thien Gang a little and even Minh Trac seemed satisfied with that suggestion. It was clear that whatever disaster his compass and runes might forecast, it was much in the future. Be Long was the only unhappy individual, but the Captain was not about to risk his life on an all out assault by himself.

Satisfied that everyone was handled, Bich Trang waved them away, commanding them to finish taking care of their horses and sustenance. It was a short rest, and within ten minutes the group were astride their horses once more.

Dinh Don led the way forwards, headed in the same direction he had indicated under orders to weave their way through the Ma Than Vong clan lands as best as possible. In aid of this, Minh Trac had distributed a series of talismans to reduce their presence further.

The entire group was halfway down the hill when Bich Trang noticed that Phuong Vy, book before her was not moving with the rest of the team. Instead, she was absentmindedly guiding her horse towards the main settlement, angling away from the group.

“Private La, what are you doing?” Bich Trang said wearily.

“Huh?” Phuong Vy looked up from her book, looked towards the voice, and then realizing she was separated checked around her. “I’m going to the disturbance, of course.”

“What disturbance?” Bich Trang said.

“Why, the one in the center of the encampment. The corruption splinter.”

Silence greeted her statement, before voices rose in agitation and anger. Eventually though, Phuong Vy was encouraged to explain herself.

“Can you not sense it? The splinter is a flame that has been brought to the center of the village. They use it to cook with, to prepare their foods and thus cleanse their meat, leaving them untouched.” Phuong Vy shook her head, in admiration and horror. “It’s both their saviour and their doom.”

“Why do you say that?” Yang Mu asked.

“The flame is fed from the corruption in the meat they consume, the very essence of the twisted chi dripping into the splinter to act as fuel. It burns the flesh clean, allowing them to safely eat the meat for the moment; but because it burns constantly. It infuses the surroundings with the demonic chi.” She opened her hands and turned it sideways. “It chokes them out, slowly rather than twisting them quickly. In the end, all will fall.

“It is likely this very splinter that Minh Trac sees in the future. Growing stronger with each meal, becoming a lingering rash on the skin of the earth.”

Wu Ying frowned, holding his hand up. A small whirlwind formed, as the winds danced in his palm, whispering to him. He shuddered after a moment, dismissing the winds after confirming her words. Yet, it was no surprise that Captain Ky sought clarity after such a dire pronouncement.

“How do you know all this?” he said. “Neither our scouts nor the soothsayer saw this.”

“I know fire.” Phuong Vy said simply.

“That explains nothing.”

“The fire in the village, it is something I understand. Just like I understand the fire within you, as I understand the fire within you all. Some burn hot,” a nod to Tou He, “others are cooler,” that brought a shy smile from Dinh Don, “and many are between. But that flame is within all living things, all but the coldest of corpses that is becoming naught but earth.

“I understand flame. And this flame is corrupt and twisted, staining the fire within everything around.”

Be Long lips thinned, but he shook his head a moment later causing his horse to shift and kick a little. “What a muddled mix of fish and dragons. But it is decided. We are going to the village, then?”

“It seems so.” Bich Trang turned her hand sideways, conjuring her helmet and slipping it on. “It seems we will have to do this the hard way.”

Wu Ying winced a little, and even Yang Mu looked doubtful. Tou He looked quietly amicable, though she glanced at Wu Ying to see if he had anything to say. When he did not, she nodded and followed the group onwards, towards the village and the corrupt flame.


Footnote:

6 - Real Vietnamese ghosts, though I’m changing them a little here.