The Third Cut - Chapter 32 preview (Patreon)

Days later, the team had finally left behind the Ma Than Vong, the abandoned city and the angry demons within but a memory. Even so, the danger to the group had only increased as the number of creatures corrupted and forcibly strengthened had increased in number. Each day, the team found themselves forced to do battle, often utilizing overwhelming force in combined attacks to finish the battle quickly before moving on.

It was the only method to ensure their continued safety as battles that lasted too long attracted attention. Wu Ying found himself utilizing his World Spirit ring more often, pulling corpses into the ring to store them aside. He, thankfully, managed to extract an altered formation at the same time to cleanse the bodies inside his ring, though even then, he would never have allowed their presence if not for the dangers they faced.

The more he learnt of the splinter – the heart – that had been brought and the corruption that it had generated, the more concerned he grew. The special unit along with Yang Mu had taken to studying the staked heart during the night under multiple formations, slicing portions of it off to test new concoctions, formations and dao inscriptions in an attempt to more quickly deal with the corruption.

It was almost immediately clear that the heart contained a dao that was anathema to the mortal ones they held. It was a twisted, encompassing dao that sought to dominate and control and corrupt, but it was strong and it was stubborn. Formations without the influence of an individuals’ dao could not break down the corruption very quickly. As such, it was only Tou He’s purifying flame that managed to tear through the heart, influenced by the dao contained within the ex-monk himself.

It was his dao that they used as a benchmark, checking how fast he could burn down a sliver against their various methods. It was his dao that they used to understand how many contaminants were released into the atmosphere, to guide their own research. It was his dao that burnt pure and clean and that made Wu Ying’s hand ache each time he neared the other.

After emerging from the medicinal bath, the majority of the simple wounds – the dry skin, the crisped and sunburnt mien – had disappeared. His body, trained to replace and fix damage, borrowing the power contained within his dantian and aided by the medicinal herbs and pills he consumed had fixed those minor wounds easily.

His hand though, the damaged skin, none of those were healing at the appropriate rate. If Wu Ying did not know better, he would have sworn that he was healing at a normal cultivator’s rate. Swift, impressive for a mortal – but nothing like what a Body Cultivator at his level should have experienced. Even if Tou He had drawn back his dao upon contact, it seemed that some lingering effects that had removed all trace of his Wind Body lingered.

Such a dangerous, dangerous flame and dao.

Because of his injuries, Wu Ying was relegated to watching the group’s back. As they neared the source of corruption, his control over the winds around them had grown ever more tenuous. Speaking with Dinh Don, training with him and studying the manual the other scout had offered, he had managed to progress his own spiritual sense further; but it helped little with the winds.

Those no longer spoke to him in the same way, the southern wind twisted by the corrupted flow of energy. In time, Wu Ying almost felt that the winds in their entirety might be corrupted; but for now, it was but a marring of the local atmosphere.

As they travelled further south, the land became hotter and more humid. More than once, Yang Mu would utilize a small talisman that she wove to cool down the air around her, even the enchanted silk robes she wore insufficient to keep her cool. She also kept close to Wu Ying, checking up on his hand and benefitting from the constant swirl of winds around him.

Captain Ky suffered as well, the soldier refusing to remove his armour even as the days grew longer. Rivulets of sweat dripped from his brow, though he plodded on stolidly without complaint. Only late into he evenings, when the group camped, would he arrange to sit nearby the wind cultivator.

The special unit members on the other hand all managed to make their way through the jungle with minimal issues. It had puzzled Wu Ying at first, only for Yang Mu to point out that embedded enchantments in their armour offered the group a degree of comfort that the Captain’s own armour did not.

For all their expertise and skills however, injuries began to accumulate further. There was no hiding their presence entirely, and the demonic beasts they faced grew in strength with each moment. The team found themselves beset at all hours, once even during the morning as insects – missed until that moment – emerged in the early morning light to attack the group.

Wounds accumulated, and even the massive chi resources and speedy healing of cultivators were unable to keep up with the volume. Healing pills were continuously consumed, even as the group stopped the moment light began to fade, not daring to risk attacks at night. Even Sao Choi, the Nascent Soul companion of the colonel began to keep a closer watch over the group, no longer daring to venture too far away his companion.

In this way, the group slogged through the corrupted forest, trees and bushes tainted, flowers and vermin infected to release noxious gasses or to aggressively strip local, uncorrupted flora, damaging the plants. In this way, the group rested warily late at night, knowing that each li brought them closer to an answer and, likely, a hard battle.

***

“Do you have an updated estimate for me?” Bich Trang asked Minh Trac, hunched over beside the fitfully burning, smokeless fireplace in the center of their courtyard. After multiple night attacks, the group had chosen to keep multiple small fires – their flames imbued with Tou He’s purifying flame – lit throughout their encampments. If the illusion and deception formations failed again, they would be ready, rather than groping in the dark.

“The bones say two days from now. Maybe three, if we have to fight as much as today,” the fortune teller and formation master said, brows furrowed. “I cannot offer more. The strands of fate here are corrupted beyond belief.”

“So are the winds. I can barely hold onto them within close proximity of us. Worst, I expect that if not for the formations we are utilizing at night to cleanse the atmosphere, it would begin corrupting us too eventually.”

“It has tried. Sending those without a clear understanding of their dao beforehand was a mistake,” Bich Trang grimaced, lines deepening across her face. “Energy Storage and weaker cultivators would have drawn in the energy and been unable to erode the corruptive dao with their own understanding. They would never have made it this far.

“It is clear we must deal with this immediately before it reaches the city.”

“As I’ve said, numerous times,” Captain Ky said, jutting his chin out. “As my lord mentioned in his communiques. And yet, army command took forever to arrive. And even then, they only send one single unit.”

“This is not the only crisis that the kingdom faces,” Bich Trang snapped. “Our resources are stretched thin, especially during the growing months.”

“Damn your other harvests. We are the rice fields of the kingdom!” Be Long said. “We should have been the first priority.”

“We had our orders,” Bich Trang replied, coolly. “As you had yours.”

“Enough. You two complain like Minh Trac,” Thien Giang cut the pair off before they could continue the argument. The formation master made a face, but eyeing the size of the warrior’s biceps kept his mouth shut. “Go, cool off somewhere.”

“Like there’s anywhere cool with the furnace in here,” Be Long glared at Tou He who sat in one corner at the edge of the formation and clearing, his aura flicking outwards on occasion. Around him, a light heat haze shimmered as the aura reacted to the corruption in the air and sought to cleanse it. Concerns about the ex-monk giving them away had been raised numerous times, but neither Tou He’s control nor their need for his dao and flames had changed, and so the team had chosen to ignore the matter.

“Just go.” Thien Giang said, curtly.

Standing, Be Long stalked off, wiping at his face with a silk cloth and grimacing at the streaks of dirt on it. He flopped down a short distance away on his bedroll, crossing his legs after a moment to begin cultivating. Those not currently engaged in experimenting like Phuong Vy were cultivating too, desperate to replace the loss energy.

“Do we have any further clue of what the cause of this corruption is? A twisted demonic beast? A herd of them?” Wu Ying asked, glancing over to where Phuong Vy was pouring a liquid over a slice of the meat, watching the silvery liquid react to the meat. A stray gust of wind caught at the released smoke, bringing it towards them before another breeze; stronger than the first sent it upwards and away. “Or something else?”

“The amount of corruption flowing through, it can only be a doorway.” Minh Trac tapped the ground. “The energy flows are all twisted in the surroundings, as a formation pries open the gates of our realm. I believe what we face is a deliberate act.”

“Someone opened a gate to a demonic realm and left it open,” Wu Ying said, slowly. “A demonic realm so twisted, it is destroying ours by being in contact with it.” Then, after a moment, he shook his head. “How can it be so strong?”

“Strong?” Bich Trang repeated.

“Yes. It corrupts everything it touches here. Why not the other way?”

Minh Trac gave Wu Ying a pitying look, as though the simplicity of the question and answering it was almost below him. However, as Bich Trang shot him a look, he sighed and explained. “It’s not a matter of just strength of daos. But the kind and its interaction.” He scooped up some earth, then reached over to Wu Ying’s cup and dropped the earth into his tea. “Is the earth stronger than the tea? No. But the tea is still soiled, is it not? Poison is not stronger than your body, but it can still kill it.

“So is this dao. It corrupts, because it is anathema to the dao and the living in our world. In time, it would be dealt with, by those above. But…”

“No one wants to see that,” Bich Trang said, before she stood up. “If we are to see a fight soon, you should all rest and recuperate.”

“Yes, Colonel.” Minh Trac and Thien Giang echoed each other’s acknowledgment.

Contrary to her own words though, the colonel did not cultivate but extracted a writing table and paper, beginning the process of grinding her ink from the inkstone so that she could write a note. Wu Ying cocked his head to the side, curiously. It was not the first time she had done so.

“Reporting to her commanders?” Wu Ying asked. “We have not received a reply as yet though.”

“That and writing to her family. You should do the same.” Thien Giang said.

“Family?” Wu Ying paused, then smiled wryly. “I don’t think your spirit messengers have the ability to carry my messages.”

“I’m sure they’d be willing to pass it on northwards.” Thien Giang looked serious then, as she continued. “It is one of the things they promise us, when we volunteer for these units. That they will ensure all our messages, as best they can, are passed on to our family.”

“That and they will be supported into the future if we cannot,” Minh Trac said. “Only reason the Colonel and I continue this. Not unlike some orphans.”

Thien Giang grinned. “My pension will go to the orphanage. It’ll help more than the pair of wives and your six squabbling children, all trying to prop up your family’s failing fortune telling business.”

“It’s not failing,” Minh Trac growled. “We just have had some bad luck recently.”

“Hah! Telling a Prince – Crowned or not – that their favourite concubine is cheating on them is not bad luck, it’s foolishness. Even when you’re right, you’re in the wrong.”

Minh Trac shrugged. “My family has always told the truth. Always.”

“And see where that’s brought you.”

“Oh, and you and the Colonel, both choosing ot risk your lives for husbands you barely see, that’s better?”

“At least we have husbands and the Colonel a child to remember them. What’s the point for you? You don’t even date.”

Minh Trac raised his pointed chin, glaring down at her. “I don’t have time And no one’s looking to date the disgraced fortune teller, not yet. Once I acquire enough fame, that’ll change. Then the women will come running to me.”

“The kind of women who come for fame and money aren’t the kind you want to live with,” Thien Giang said. “Better to value a good heart.”

“A good heart, you say. That’s another way of saying their face is as appealing as rotten tofu.”

Wu Ying barely noticed Thien Giang moving, though the crack of the strike and the flying body that followed it was easy enough to watch. Minh Trac flew through the air and rolled over and over again, his robes tangling up around him while Thien Giang smirked.

“Ass,” she said.

Well, it was clear someone had issues around her looks. And as Minh Trac popped right back up, nursing his chest what she had punched him, he obviously knew that for he was smirking. Wu Ying shook his head, leaving the pair of team members to deal with the stress in their own way. Though something they had said had caught his attention.

“You and the Colonel have children?” Wu Ying said, quietly. Unusual, up north for cultivators to have many children unless they had given up on the pursuit of immortality. He wondered if it was the same down here.

“Three for me. She only has one. Eight months old,” Thien Giang said. “She got into it late.”

“Eight months?” Wu Ying whispered, horrified. So young.

“Yes. When you reach her level, you can’t turn down orders as much.” Thien Giang gestured at the group. “Units are sent out as a group, so we’re forced to go along too. It’s not ideal, but as we said, the army takes good care of us.” She gestured towards Tou He, head cocked. “Isn’t that the same for you and your Sects? You go where they tell you?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Wu Ying said. “At least, not at our level.” He chuckled, a little self-conscious. “I left as an Energy Storage cultivator and have not been back yet.” She nodded, knowing the story. “But it seemed that there was more option, mostly, to do what you wanted as an Elder. Except occasionally.”

“That’s because you people pursue the dao more vigorously, don’t you?”

“We do.”

She nodded, consideringly. Her gaze turned down, tracing down to where his hand lay bandaged and then muttered. “So, are you gong to be able to fight?”

“We’ll find out, won’t we?” Wu Ying flexed his left hand, wincing as the growing flesh pulled tight and the scabbed skin broke apart. He could feel a little wetness, but it was important to keep moving his hand, less it become stiff. “But I won’t slow you down at least.”