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Green light filled and destroyed his night vision as he tried to grasp Soifon’s healing kido and stay on the road. The wind screamed and blew icy breath in his face as Dotty raced forward while the wagon rattled under its heavy load. Wood bent and popped within a hair’s breadth of breaking and leaving money on the table. The wagon was an old thrown-together thing sturdy from a distance until it was loaded and needed to hurtle down an icy road, practically gliding between turns. The sun began its decline, and in the woods between his homestead and the farm, light barely reached them on a sunny day. Silas could feel the panic in the gelding even as Dotty followed the path from memory, running the barrels blind.

“Thy pace will kill me before the hollow’s wound manages. Can thou see in the dark, or better can thy steeds?” Soifon said.

She finished healing herself without leaving a scar before he could figure out much of the healing art. Then she had the temerity to push herself close to him to share warmth even though he questioned if a spirit felt heat and cold physically. Well, it did feel good to have someone reliable with him, even if she was an assassin. But, of course, unless he missed every sign imaginable, he wasn’t her target, or this was an intricate ploy to do him in.

But why bother? The zanpakuto at her side could kill him easily enough.

“Thou art a spirit, would a crash hurt thou? Methinks thy wound is healed without blemish, and physical injuries can not hurt thee.” Silas said.

She pursed her lips and then looked away. “Methinks the beast knows thou art here but hesitates to attack. Thy spiritual pressure is relative to my own. The hollow wouldn’t dare strike at us, even in the dark. With fire and some of thy food, it would be easier to recover my strength,” Soifon said.

It was better for him that she remained weak and somewhat dependent on his goodwill. While he didn’t distrust her outright, they had met hours ago. The Shinigami pressed her body against him, and even in the cold, he felt his teenage hormones waking up. Whether her actions were planned or innocent, he didn’t know, and some of him didn’t want to know.

There were darker parts of himself that contemplated sticking her in a spirit energy siphoning box to help fuel his farm and cultivation or perhaps the native Shinigami. Silas felt that ruthless cultivator nature that clung to him since he died in the other world. While he tried to be a good person to the best of his ability when he could, that nature remained.

“My musket dealt it a terrible blow when I was weaker. Thy enemy is mine, and the beast has made three attempts on my life. Two of them were in person, while the last was covert. Methinks the hollow fears me too much to show itself again. Next, we meet. I shall destroy it; mark my word.” Silas said.

“Brave and foolish, thou art a human no matter thy physical strength. Destroying hollows is the duty of the soul society.” Soifon said.

“Methinks thou art dangerously close to caring about my wellbeing. I must truly be pitiful.” Silas said.

The future captain of the stealth force glowered at him before he handed her his flask.

“Charity, tis a rarity even among those who can stand to grant it. Thou art strange if not a fullbringer, then what art thee.” Soifon asked.

“I am a cultivator. Thou could think of me like a fullbringer of the Americas. Soifon, I know not the term.” Silas said.

She drank heavily from his flask and set it aside. Color returned to her face, and she seemed a bit calmer as their wagon glided between a turn before jerking forward. The gelding was losing strength even as they hit the final stretch of their trip. While the gelding benefitted from his farm, it wasn’t a future spirit beast. It was already hitting the peak of what living on a spiritually rich land could give it.

He put away the strange version of natural selection as snow began falling. The gelding panicked, and Silas snapped the reigns to slow them down to a stop. Soifon looked away as Silas stepped off the wagon, flintlock close at hand while he pulled a torch free from a box in the wagon.

A quick strike of the match later, the world of glittering ice and falling snow lit up long enough for him to locate some signage. They were close to an abandoned cabin in the woods after the property owners died from syphilis. He liked his savage squaws younger than Silas, and that came back to bite him in the ass. From what he remembered of the disease if caught young, it wasn’t a big deal. Still, if caught later in life, it was deadly without modern medicine or, in Silas’s case, cultivation.

Most of his veins were cultivated, which should boost his immune system. “Soifon, stay on the wagon and be ready; we have a wagon load of food, and anyone could be squatting in the cabin,” Silas said.

“Methinks when I return to my mistress, there will be a reckoning with the native Shinigami barracks of the northern Americas. My mistress claimed this was an easy job, practically a vacation. Tis not what was advertised.” Soifon said.

That was interesting. Did that mean Shinigami of the court guard squad had less contact and influence in the Americas? Silas knew their primary purpose was to protect the balance of souls, the order established with the dismemberment and binding of the soul king. There was reverse London and dragons, the soul society to London. Still, other soul societies or realms could mirror the living world. It was possible that these realms were somewhat anchored to the world of the living. If that were the case, there might be a reverse America or several realms. Did it have something to do with populations?

Silas put that away as he led them to the cabin, torch in hand. No lights were peaking through the broken windows of the cabin. Some of the kids might have thrown rocks at them out of boredom. But, for him, it meant nothing was blocking out the wind or snow. On the bright side, the cabin had a fireplace.

“What will thou do with the horses?” Soifon asked.

“They are coming inside with us,” Silas said.

“Won’t they defecate on the floor?” Soifon asked.

“Mistress, thou art a spirit; physical matter can not harm thee.” Silas paused at his own words and corrected himself. “My mistake, Dotty; if thou need to relieve thy self, get me,” Silas said.

As for the other one, the lights weren’t on. Foam covered the gelding’s mouth, frozen over, and it struggled to breathe. Traveling through ice and snow for hours at a breakneck pace was too much for him.

Silas took a bag of grain from the wagon and hooked it to Dotty, and she ate her oats like a ravenous beast. But, unfortunately, the gelding continued to wheeze, and Silas doubted it would last much longer. He had run it to the brink of death.

“Do animals leave plus souls?” Silas asked.

“No, they art purely physical beings,” Soifon said.

He might have already fucked over the balance without realizing it. Spirit beasts came in many varieties, including the kaiju variety. If hollows weren’t bad enough, packs of spirit wolves could become a problem given enough time. At the thought, he heard a howl and felt an increase in the presence of malignant energy. The hollow had either infected wolves with its worms or possessed the wolves themselves. Either way, he had three muskets and a half-powered soul reaper.

If he hit his targets, that gave him 2 possibly guaranteed kills because he had to keep a shot in reserve for the hollow.

Silas pushed the wagon into the rundown stable with the gelding. It was out of the cold, and Silas tossed an extra horse blanket over the loyal beast and gave him his bag of oats. After he closed the door to the stables, he made his way inside, where Soifon was hard at work trying to light long frozen logs.

He poured oil from the wagon onto the log and lit it with a match. The Shinigami huffed and pushed two fingers together.

“I was this close to starting it with kido,” Soifon said as orange light filled the room.

While they weren’t out of the cold, it was, for the most part, abated. Thanks to his cultivation, Silas wasn’t bothered by the cold like the others, but he had his limits. Dotty found a place near the fire and lay down while the howls grew closer.

It felt almost poetic that he was going to kill the beast’s dogs after it killed his. Silas ensured his guns were still in good shape despite the snow while Soifon stayed close to the fire.

Silas turned up his flask, drained the last of his spirit water, and cultivated quickly, filling in some of the last of his capillaries and bringing his percentage to 90%. He felt like he had hit a milestone, like when he hit the 80s. While things like magic were out of the question, he was convinced rocks would be easier to throw.

He should have built a staff or something with formations to help defend himself. In another time, he might have, but his own lands were pushing it. Silas wasn’t sure if no one had seen it yet or if the hollow had already possessed someone and informed the town. If it made that play, Silas would have to react.

While he didn’t want to do it, and it went against everything he stood for, Silas might need to wipe out Low Delaware Town. He firmly believed in finding the most efficient solution and then worrying about morality. If the solution to the town finding out about his cultivation and going on a religious crusade against him, he would take measured steps. He didn’t want to wipe out the town, but he wouldn’t take any option off the table if he could help it.

“Methinks thy contemplations include mass murder,” Soifon said.

“Have thou seen that many people contemplate it, or do I have that kind of face?” Silas asked.

“Thy eyes art round like the witches and wizards of Wing Bind,” Soifon said and smirked at him.

He had no idea what that meant, but she didn’t continue. Did she have a thing for white guys or something? Silas didn’t think that was the case, but her mistress did send her to the new world on vacation. So that could mean she was here because of her preferences.