The Third Cut - Chapter 43 preview (Patreon)

Yang Mu had created these escape formations all through their journey since the appearance of the Ma Than Vong. Each night, she had planted the formations guarding them and embedded the escape formation within the very same formation to ensure their safety. Now, the group skipped across space, each campsite a beacon for the energy that threw them forth.

At the same time, Yang Mu screamed as the power required for their transportation was greater than ever. Though much of it drew from the environment, the necessary extension of the bracelet that she wore to envelop both Wu Ying and Tou He – and now, Sao Choi – drew directly from her core.

The wood-and-earth escape formation was meant to be a short-range enchantment, transferring their bodies through the ground and connecting tree to the next location. The added energy and the modifications that Yang Mu had completed allow them to extend it across multiple li, each of the campsites pulling energy from the formation flags that been slowly gathering the energy whist the team were away.

Yet, the passage of wind and air aspected cultivator and spirit beast through wood and earth was draining. Their bodies, unused to the transformation instinctively fought against the change, for their very daos were anathema to this act.

Dragged along through the ground, Wu Ying felt as though his body and soul were being scoured. As though he was an ill-kept pot once utilized by an inattentive cook, the rice meant to cook left too long over the fire such that it burnt itself blackened charcoal on its side. The earth was the cleanser, soil and rough stone rubbed over and over again.

Fortune and misfortune all in one. Remnant wounds and blood clots, leftover debris from when he had reformed were pulled from his body, left behind as they jumped from camp to camp. His body was purified by the enchantment in a way that would he have been grateful for – if not for the indescribable agony of the act.

Wu Ying was no stranger to pain, to the slow ache of being boiled alive and having poisons and corruption drawn from one’s form. He had soaked in baths for days on end, had his very cells broken down repeatedly before being reformed, sometimes multiple times during a single session.

The wind cultivator was no stranger to agony.

And yet, this journey transcended each of his previous experiences. Old wounds that had just finished clotting were reopened. His body, hastily rebuilt and only kept together by grace of the Dao was damaged once more.

His mind rode the waves of unending pain, his very sanity tested. A sense of self, that had nearly exhausted itself on the winds of existence was pinned to earthly body, and Wu Ying longed for those moments of serenity and inexistence he had approached.

But it was not to be.

The earth did not offer such solace, just more agony.

A pouring of energy, one last twist of power along a guided route and the quartet were vomited out into an encampment nearby the Hanged Ghosts settlement. The formation itself burst into flame moments later as its energy was exhausted.

Tou He rolled, coming to his uninjured knee in a half-crouch with broken foot splayed out behind him. A long bleeding wound along the left arm he had used to block the claw dribbling blood, the staff he held in his other hand bearing long claw marks.

Yang Mu was not much better, having crashed into a tree and through it to fetch against another towering tree trunk. She lay still, her Core exhausted as she struggled to stay awake. Passing tens of li within moments with an extra passenger had drained the wood cultivator of every dreg of power within her, and only the fact that the wood-and-earth escape formation had been so appropriately entwined with her own element had it been possible.

All this, Wu Ying was informed of by the winds that had returned to him. It spoke to him as he lay on the ground, nearly senseless. It blew, from afar, sweeping corrupted energy away now that the source was fading, a massive makeshift formation draining the corruption with each moment. Heavenly wind even returned, grumbling about mortal concerns, powerful cultivators and the plottings of mortal kingdoms.

For all that, it was the slowly wakening bird, a creature whose magnificent feathers had been half- plucked from its body that concerned Wu Ying most of all. The wind cultivator struggled to put energy into his injured body to force himself to stand, only for the energy to bleed out of him through myriad damaged meridians and body parts.

“Amithaba, great one. We have no desire to fight.” Tou He limped, dragging one foot, his flame guttering. He swallowed another alchemical pill in hopes of providing fuel as he approached the raptor, passing by Wu Ying’s lolling head and his field of vision. “This need not end in tragedy. We were friends, were we not?”

No answer of course. What kind of answer could they expect, from a spirit beast? Certainly not from one that had been silent through the entire journey. Yet, the ex-monk had to try, Wu Ying knew. And he… he had to do his best too.

Voice cracked, once and then again, as he swallowed around dry mouth. “Yang Mu. Slaughter formation.”

Tou He turned a little, at Wu Ying’s words. Only to sway to the side, blocking the attack with his wooden staff. The Mountain Abides stance was not as resolute before, its roots chipped and mined by battle and exhaustion, such that when struck even by the weightless attacks of a crippled god of the sky, it shifted.

“Great one, this need not be this way,” Tou He repeated, even as he blocked another attack. Not at him this time, but at Wu Ying.

Even threatened with the loss of his life, Wu Ying found himself unable to shift away, so robbed of energy was he. Yet, slowly, a trickle of energy was returning to him as the Never Empty Wine Pot stirred within his Core, winds from multiple li turning and pouring their energy into him. From the look in the raptor’s eyes, such action had not gone unnoticed.

“Yang Mu. Get up,” Wu Ying muttered, hoping she would do so. Hoping that she could find the energy to waken. He had given her the killing formation he had bargained for from her mother, knowing she could make use of it better. In so doing, she had planted the formation here, in this place for when they might need to retreat.

For treachery had always been a concern. Their presence had been unwanted, the threat the trio showcased as powerful additions to the kingdoms that had previously threatened Nanyue clear. That they had learnt of a weakness in the fortress of Liang Soon, a weakness that could be exploited by an expansionist kingdom to the north…

Well, sometimes, it was better to close off such threats beforehand. Especially if the reason for the corrupted ape, for the portal that had been opened had been a secret that needed to be kept.

All those thoughts flickered through Wu Ying’s mind, as energy trickled into his dantian, through dried out meridians. Now that he had energy, his body ached even further, blood seeping out from his robes and dripping from the edges of his armor to stain the earth.

In the meantime, Tou He had shifted, further block the raptor. He struck, again and again with his weapon, driving the hopping bird back. If not for Sao Choi’s own injuries, its inability to fly beyond short hops aided by its control of the air, the fight might have been over already. As it stood, Tou He had long bleeding wounds across his body, the robe he wore torn and bloodied.

“Great One… please…” Tou He’s voice was a little desperate now. One moment he was raising his left hand in a block, the next the staff was spinning away, a trail of blood arcing through the air and the Nascent Soul bird a short distance away, letting out long happy cry, even as it swallowed the pair of fingers it had taken from the cultivator.

No more time. Unable to delay any longer, Wu Ying forced the little energy he had gathered through his meridians. He poured it into his World Spirit Ring, his soul tearing apart as he wielded it to manipulate the storage ring and extract the formation flag. A secondary command flag, one that he had kept.

Trust, but plan for the worst.

Then, Wu Ying sunk the formation flag into the ground beside him and released the last of his energy, powering it with a touch of his very lifeblood. Insufficient energy meant that the formation took what it required to start from his very body.

Energy coursed through Wu Ying and once again, he rode the waves of pain. Except this time, no longer caught outside the realm of mortal form, consciousness was robbed from him even as lifeblood poured from his hands into the formation itself.

***

“You idiot,” Tou He was ranting at him, even as he finished bandaging his friend. He did so adroitly, only occasionally fumbling the passing of the bandages between one hand to another as he adapted to the loss of his last two fingers. “You used lifeblood to power the formation. What kind of fool does that?”

Too tired to answer him directly, Wu Ying just stared at his friend. After all, he could recall one such idiot in the past life.

“I was young and headstrong then. I did not know the importance of it,” Tou He replied, finishing the bandage around his friend’s leg and moving on. “You are no longer young. There was no need for that. If you’d just handed me the flag…”

In reply, Wu Ying looked at his friend’s damaged hand. He could not help but smirk a little, causing the ex-monk to growl in exasperation.

“Already? I only lost my fingers a few hours ago,” he said.

Working his lips, Wu Ying tried to speak only to fail. His throat was raw, dry and lacking in moisture. Seeing his friend struggle, Tou He extracted a wine gourd, allowing a low trickle to enter his friend’s throat before continuing his haranguing.

“Don’t try to speak, you should rest.” Tou He nodded to the side, where Yang Mu still lay senseless. “Follow her example.”

“You… too…” Wu Ying finally croaked.

“After I deal with the corpse.”

Wu Ying’s gaze returned to the corpse of Sao Choi, a part of him rising in disappointment as he saw the mangled and bloody body. He knew that it was important for Tou He to deal with the corpse, to extract the spirit core within and even butcher the body for meat and resources. Yet, he found himself deeply saddened as he stared at it.

Not just for the loss of a magnificent creature, one that had lived for hundreds of years but also the betrayal. It did not have to happen that way. If they had but trusted one another, spoken to one another, this final betrayal might not have occurred.

But greed and paranoia had driven the actions of others. And now, the trio were here; trapped in the wilderness, wounded and exhausted and with enemies not far behind.

There would be no talking, not anymore. Not now, perhaps not for a very long time. Too much had been lost, on both sides.

All Wu Ying could hope for was that it had been worth it.