Chapter 20
I woke up groggy, something pressed against my face. I pushed it off with a grunt, and a mumbled protest followed.
Wei Lin.
We were both sprawled out on the floor of his home. At some point in the night, his leg had ended up across my head.
"Move it," I muttered, my voice rattling in my skull.
He mumbled something incoherent and rolled over, snoring softly.
We must've drunk too much.
I pushed myself up onto my elbows and took a deep breath. My head throbbed. My stomach churned like it was trying to escape. I hadn't felt this bad in years.
Not since Mum's funeral.
That thought cut deeper than the hangover. For a moment, I just sat there, eyes half-closed, picturing her fingers brushing through my hair when I was small. Telling me stories about the old days—before the rifts, before the endless fighting, before everything changed.
I sighed and shook my head.
I couldn't help but think what that would have been like.
The image of her—long dark hair, kind blue eyes—faded like mist, leaving a sharp ache in its place.
I stepped outside into the morning light and made my way to the well. Drew a bucket and splashed cold water on my face. It helped, but only a little. My stomach still rolled with warning.
I took a few steady breaths.
What the hell happened last night?
All I remembered was the hunters leaving. The healer, too. Then it was just me, Wei Lin, and the girls. And a lot of wine. In short we got plastered.
The sound of coughing snapped me out of my reminiscing.
I walked back inside. To see if everything was alright.
Wei Lin was still flat on the floor, arms sprawled wide like he'd tried to fight off the morning and lost. He was snoring like our old American bulldog used to. Which was.. let's just say loud.
I kicked him.
"Get up. Your ma needs you."
He didn't stir.
I kicked him harder.
Still nothing but a grunt.
The coughing came again—harsher now. Prolonged. It echoed behind the curtain that split the house. The one I never crossed, out of respect.
I knew Wei Lin didn't want me back there. He would always close it as soon as he got behind there so I couldn't see in. But I wasn't going to sit there while someone choked to death.
So I moved.
Pushing the curtain aside, I stepped in.
She lay on a thin mat in the far corner, barely more than a shape beneath the blankets. Her frame looked fragile—skin pale and stretched too tight over her bones. Her limbs trembled with each breath. The left side of her face had collapsed slightly, like a stroke had taken something from her, and never given it back. Her mouth hung open between coughs. One eye was swollen shut. The other flicked between the walls like she wasn't sure where she was anymore.
I moved to the small table beside her and found a bowl of medical paste—lukewarm, left from the night before. I remembered watching Wei Lin mixing it together.
I dipped a rag into it and pressed it gently to her lips.
She coughed again, then swallowed in small, choking sips.
I whispered, "Easy. Just a little."
She didn't seem to hear me.
I kept giving her more. Her cough disappeared and she relaxed back into her mat. If I was telling the truth, she looked like he didn't belong in this world anymore. And I knew all too well the pain of losing a mother to sickness. I grimaced and turned to leave.
But , suddenly, her hand shot out.
Thin fingers like claws wrapped around my wrist with surprising strength.
Her eye locked on mine clear as day and she yanked me closer with impossible strength.
"F—Fire, you…you demon."
The words rasped out of her like wind through dead leaves on a dark night.
"They come… they come for us all, Otherworlder."
I froze.
"What?"
Her grip tightened.
"Earth… it burns. Don't let him… don't let them break it. It's conn—"
Her grip loosened and her eyes fluttered shut.
My chest went cold and my breath left my body. Goose bums ran down my spine.
"What did you say?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
I leaned in. "Who? What do you mean? Wake up. What did you say?"
Footsteps pounded the floor behind me just before I tried to shake her awake.
The curtain was ripped back.
Wei Lin stood there, still in yesterday's clothes, eyes wide and bloodshot.
"What are you doing?" His shouted before pushing me away from her.
I stood quickly. "She was choking. I just gave her her medicine—"
"You weren't supposed to go back there." knelt beside her, checking her pulse, brushing her hair back. "She doesn't like strangers. You're not allowed back here."
"She grabbed me," I said. "She said something. Something weird."
"She says a lot of things," he snapped, voice sharp. "None of it means anything."
I hesitated. "She said something to do with my home. I need to know what she was saying!" My voice unintentionally rose as I continued.
He looked up at me, just for a second. Eyes unreadable. Then he looked away. "You misheard. She's just an old sick lady"
I wanted to argue.
But the way he touched her hand, how carefully he tucked the blanket around her shoulders, how tight his jaw was clenched—I let it go.
"I'm sorry," I said.
Wei Lin didn't respond.
I stepped out and let the curtain fall behind me.
Outside, the morning wind cut through my shirt like a knife.
But it wasn't the cold that shook me.
It was the look in her eyes. My heart hardened. She said something about earth. About it breaking. Like fuck I would let that happen. Not when my sister was still there.
I couldn't stop thinking about it.
The sky above Fallen Mist was pale, streaked with thin clouds. The rice fields glistened faintly in the morning light. Everything looked the same.
But everything felt different.
Her voice still echoed in my head.
I wanted to write it off—blame it on the sickness—but she'd called me an Otherworlder.
When Wei Lin finally stepped outside, he looked calmer. More composed. But there was a weight in his eyes.
He joined me by the well without a word.
We stood there for a minute. Maybe more.
"You alright?" I asked.
He didn't answer right away. Then he said, "You weren't supposed to see her like that."
"I know."
"She used to be strong. Ran the whole farm herself when I was little. Carried me on her back during the flood that took half the village. She wasn't supposed to end up like this."
I stayed quiet.
"I keep thinking," he continued, "if I was stronger—if I'd joined a sect like I dreamed of, if I'd managed to cultivate—maybe I could've gotten her real help. Proper help."
He exhaled slowly, like he was letting go of something he didn't want to admit he'd been carrying.
"I want her to get better, Fang Wu. More than anything. But she's slipping. And now she's scaring you with talk about gods and other rubbish."
"She said things she shouldn't know," I said softly. "I need clarification."
He didn't respond.
"I think she's connected to my past. Somehow."
"She's sick."
"Maybe," I said. "But still—"
"Just drop it," he cut in, his voice flat and tired. "I don't want you seeing her again."
He looked away. "I'm going into town later. Gonna see if Madam Shen has any spirit-root left. I can't keep saving for the pill. She needs more medicine now."
I nodded. "I'll come with you."
He hesitated. "I—I want some time alone. If that's okay."
I looked at him. Then gave a slow nod. "Sure. I'll see you later."
He offered a small, weary smile. "Alright."
We both knew this was about more than medicine now.
Something was stirring—inside Fallen Mist, inside Wei Lin's home… even out in the forest. I just needed to figure it all out.
Once Wei Lin left, the thought of barging in and demanding answers consumed me. So much so that I nearly did it—three times. But every time I pulled the curtain back, she was asleep. And I couldn't bring myself to do it.
It would've felt like betrayal.
So instead, I grabbed my sabre and stepped out into the light.
The fields were already swaying in the breeze, the rice stalks catching the morning sun like strands of gold. I walked out to the edge, where the grass gave way to packed earth, and took my stance.
Same as we'd practiced.
Legs shoulder-width apart. Blade angled low. Elbows loose.
Then I began.
The motion was awkward at first. The sabre still felt heavier than it should. But as I moved through the forms—thrust, arc, pivot, cut—I started to feel it click.
I didn't stop after the first round of drills.
Something in me itched—too much noise in my head. So I ran the forms again, correcting my footwork, adjusting how I shifted my weight between each swing. The blade no longer felt like a stranger in my hands.
Thrust. Turn. Parry. Step.
The sequence moved through me like an old rhythm I'd half-forgotten.
Then it came back.
A voice—stern, calm—echoing through a room full of metal and sweat.
"Again," said Instructor Mallory. "From the top. You don't just swing a weapon. You build it into your bones."
Back at the Hunter's Academy. First year. I'd been barely eighteen. Still hopeful. The entire class had stood in rows, practice blades in hand, repeating the same movement until our shoulders burned and our legs gave out.
I fell into it now like I never left.
I used to love sword drills. Back then, I thought I had a future in it. But everything changed when I ranked D. Mana blades were expensive. Any mana weapon was expensive. Too expensive for someone like me—especially after Mum passed and left me with Elise.
My only saving grace was my father's old dagger. That was how I survived. How I kept food on the table. Without it… I didn't want to think about that.
I shook my head and gripped the hilt tighter.
Low guard. Step forward. Elbow tight. Twist the hips.
I pictured Mallory walking past, correcting me with a slap to the arm. "Too wide. You'll leave your whole side open."
I adjusted.
Cut upward. Block. Step back.
The sun climbed higher. Sweat soaked through my robes, dripping from my chin, matting hair to my forehead. The ache in my limbs drowned out the hangover. My breath found rhythm. My body settled into the flow.
I trained until my fingers blistered, until the sabre felt like it weighed double what it had that morning.
When I finally stopped, my chest rose and fell like bellows. My hair clung to my neck. My arms trembled. But my head was clear.
The fog was gone.
I sheathed the sabre and walked to the edge of the paddies. The cool water soaked through my boots, and I sat, letting my legs sink into the shallow water. The wind brushed my cheeks, soft and cool. The sky above was sharp and blue—cloudless and clear.
I stared across the fields.
And thought.
About the rift. The system. The fights. The beasts.
Wei Lin. His mother.
Earth.
My sister.
A dull weight settled in my chest at the thought of her—my last blood. I wondered what she was doing now. If she thought I was dead. If she was alone.
If the world was still safe without me there to protect her.
I closed my eyes and leaned back on my palms.
Tried not to think. Just breathe.
But it was hard. I'd always been meant to protect her. I'd promised.
The world fell into a quiet hum.
The rustle of rice stalks. The chirp of insects. The occasional splash of frogs deeper in the fields.
I don't know how long I stayed like that.
Minutes, maybe hours.
The sun dipped lower. The breeze cooled.
And when I opened my eyes—
The light had changed.
The sky had slipped into evening, gold and soft purple painting the horizon. But more than that… there were specks of light floating around me. Tiny flecks of gold. They shimmered in the air, drifting slow and lazy before sinking into my skin.
Qi.
I sat up straighter, eyes wide.
The specks spiraled inward, drawn to me.
What the hell is going on?
As soon as thoughts re entered my mind, the wisps disappeared, falling back into the earth.
Then a chime rang through my mind.
Qi absorbed.
System sync in progress…
Chapter 21
I didn't move for a while.
The golden flecks had long since faded, pulled into my body or back into the earth. That deep calm—that strange quiet that had opened something in me—was already slipping through my fingers.
But the system hadn't.
Qi absorbed.
System sync in progress…
Stats increased
Spirit: 14 → 16
Progress: Mortal 3/10 → 4/10
I closed my eyes and reached inward, focusing on that familiar thread of awareness nestled behind my thoughts.
Status
Name: Ethan Ward
Cultivation: Mortal – 4/10
Titles:
• Diligence's Chosen
• Otherworlder
Skills:
• Last Stand
Stats:
Strength: 11
Agility: 10
Constitution: 15
Spirit: 16
There it was.
Spirit: 16.
It didn't seem like much on paper. Just another number ticking upward. But I could feel it. Everything around me felt more real now. Like I had blurred vision and each time my spirit increased, that blur became a little more clear.
I sat back down, cross-legged on the edge of the paddies and closed my eyes again.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
I tried to let my thoughts drift. To stop chasing them. To just… listen. Let the breeze move through me. Let the weight fall off. I tried to reach for that same open space from earlier. That soft nothing that had let the Qi find me.
But it didn't come.
My thoughts kept circling back. To Earth. To Elise. To the woman behind the curtain.
I opened my eyes and exhaled sharply.
Tried again.
Let go. Breathe. Be still.
This time, I felt it—just a flicker. A tug at the edge of my awareness. Like the world was holding its breath.
Almost.
Then—
"Fang Wu!" Wei Lin's voice rang across the fields. "Dinner!"
The moment shattered.
I opened my eyes, blinked once, and looked toward the house. Smoke was curling from the chimney. The sky above was streaked with orange.
"Coming," I called back, voice flat.
I stood slowly, brushing mud from my legs.
So close.
I'd touched something real today. I'd seen a path forward. One that didn't have to involve death.
But peace, it seemed, didn't last.
Not for me. Not when Wei Lin was around anyway.
I walked inside and Wei Lin ladled two bowls and slid one across the table. I took it without a word and knelt on the floor, still thinking about the golden flecks. About the calm that had nearly settled around me like a second skin.
He blew on his bowl, then glanced over.
"So," he said, "I tried calling you three times. Thought you'd passed out in the rice. What was that?"
I gave a faint shrug. "Just… lost in thought."
"Yeah?" He grinned, stirring his stew. "You looked like some grand cultivator."
I rolled my eyes. "Wouldn't be the worst thing."
Was that what I was now? Maybe.
"Eh, probably not." He took a bite, chewed, then added, "Ran into the sisters on the way back."
That got my attention. "Lian Mei and Lian Rui?"
"The very same." His grin widened. "Apparently, you and I did something a bit… stupid last night."
"Oh no."
He leaned forward. "You climbed onto the table, declared your undying love for Lian Rui."
"I did not."
"You absolutely did." He laughed. "And I quote: 'Lian Rui, since the moment I saw you, I was captivated. The way you brushed your hair behind your ear had me watching, lost in a trance. I think I love you.' You dolt."
I squinted at him. "Bullshit."
"No shit. Cross my heart—that's what she said. Well, that's what Lian Mei said. I don't know what you saw in the other sister. She's like a mute."
"Sounds fake."
He gave a dramatic sigh. "They also said you tried to tell them a story about a 'magical rift' and got so emotional you cried into your cup."
"…That part might be real."
Wei Lin barked a laugh and thumped the table. "I believe it. But don't worry, Brother Fang, they had some stories about me as well that I'll gladly take to my grave."
I rubbed a hand over my face. "Remind me to never drink that much again. And come on, out with it—what did they say about you?"
"Don't you worry about that."
The warmth of the room sank deeper into my bones. The laughter helped. I really needed to lay back on the drinking however.
We ate in silence for a few minutes. The sun dipped lower outside the window, turning the sky a deeper red. The house creaked with the wind, and the smell of herbs drifted faintly from behind the curtain.
Wei Lin glanced toward it once.
And so did I.
Despite the good mood, I resolved myself.
She had more words for me. I was sure of it.
And I'd find out. We finished dinner and settled in for the night.
I was abruptly woken to the sound of growling.
My eyes snapped open.
Wei Lin was already upright, half-crouched in the dark, sabre clutched in a white-knuckled grip. His bare feet were planted quietly on the wooden floor, his body angled toward the door. All traces of sleep were gone.
"What the hell was that?" I asked, pushing the blanket off me.
He shook his head, eyes narrowed, listening. "I'm not sure."
Another growl echoed through the night. Low. Guttural. And it wasn't alone. More followed—Surrounding the cabin.
A cold weight settled in my stomach.
"Shit," Wei Lin muttered. "What do we do?"
I reached for my sabre, fingers closing around the familiar leather grip where it leaned on the wall. I drew it slowly, the rasp of metal far too loud in the silence.
"Blow out the lanterns," I said quietly. "Maybe… maybe they'll move on."
I didn't believe it. Not really.
Wei Lin snuffed the flame with a cloth. Darkness fell over the room, broken only by the silver slats of moonlight cutting through the window.
Then I heard it.
Sniffing.
Wet breath and twitching nostrils pressed against the wooden door. Long, slow inhales, like it was tasting the scent of blood before the kill.
The wood creaked.
Then a deep, ragged snarl.
A claw slammed into the door with a thud, making the frame jump. Another tore down the surface.
Wei Lin stepped beside me. "Shit, get ready."
I glanced at him. "I got your back."
He nodded grimly.
My grip tightened.
Another slam shook the door, followed by a horrible splintering crack.
Something punched through the bottom panel.
A snout forced its way in, covered in pale fur slicked with moisture. Jaws snapped in the gap, slashing at the air, teeth flashing in the dark.
I stepped back, raising my blade. "Get it while it's vulnerable!"
Wei Lin didn't answer. He was already moving.
Then there was a louder smash. Wood and glass exploded behind me.
I turned too late.
A white blur burst through the window in a shower of shards, mist trailing in its wake. The creature's eyes gleamed violet. Its mouth stretched wide, tongue lashing, fangs bared.
It was midair.
Coming straight for me.
I twisted.
My feet skidded on the floor as I dropped low, pivoting hard. The wolf missed by a breath, its jaws snapping past my ear with a crack like breaking bone. I felt the wind of its body rush over me.
I slashed upward.
Too slow.
The sabre cut nothing but mist.
The beast landed behind me with a heavy thud, claws gouging into the floorboards, its massive head already snapping around.
Before I could face it, the front door exploded inward.
The other wolf burst through the remains of the wooden door, lips curled back in a silent snarl. Wei Lin met it head-on, driving his sabre forward in a desperate arc.
The steel struck true, glancing off bone but biting deep into the creature's skull.
It shrieked. A wet, keening sound.
But it didn't stop.
It rammed him, sending both of them crashing into the wall in a tangle of limbs and fur.
I moved to help but the first wolf jumped in my path.
It was circling now, low and slow, mist curling off its body.
I looked past it to Wei Lin, he cursed, struggling to keep the second one off him.
I didn't have time to help him. Because the wolf lunged again.
I moved to meet it this time, my stance low, blade held tight, breath locked in my throat. Its body blurred. The thing was fast, faster than it should've been for its size. Its paws barely touched the floorboards before it was already twisting midair, jaws wide and glowing eyes locked on my throat.
I stepped into it.
My sabre came up in a rising arc, angled toward its ribs. I felt the blade connect with a jarring impact like hitting stone but it wasn't deep enough. The bristles along its side absorbed the worst of it. Still, it yelped and twisted, slamming into me shoulder-first.
The impact knocked the breath out of me.
We hit the ground hard. My back struck the table, collapsing it and stars exploded behind my eyes. The sabre fell from my grip and clattered across the floor. The wolf landed a few feet away, rolling once, then surged up again in a single smooth motion, unharmed.
I scrambled to my feet. One knee buckled. Pain lanced up my side.
The wolf was already charging.
I dove to the side. It clipped my leg with a claw and I spun, hitting the ground hard again. My fingers found the sabre, slick with my own sweat. I rolled onto my back as the beast turned, crouched, and lunged again without hesitation.
I brought the sabre up just in time to catch it.
The force of the leap drove it straight onto me. The blade sank into its chest, but it kept pushing. Its hot breath blasted against my face, fangs gnashing inches from my eyes. I shoved with everything I had, but my arms were starting to shake. Blood streamed from the gash in its side, coating my chest, but it didn't seem to notice.
Its jaws opened wide.
I did the only thing I could.
I let go of the sabre with one hand, reached for my father's dagger strapped to my waist, and pulled it free. Just as its teeth closed around my collarbone, I drove the blade up beneath its jaw—right through the soft patch at the base of the mouth.
The dagger punched through, surprisingly.
Even with a broken blade it was still watching over me.
The wolf spasmed, gurgled, then went still.
Its weight collapsed on top of me.
For a second, I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Blood, mine or its, poured over my chest, soaking my robe. I shoved with one trembling hand and rolled the corpse off. My lungs pulled in a ragged breath.
My shoulder burned. My leg throbbed. My collarbone was bleeding freely.
I didn't stop to breathe.
The moment I shoved the corpse off my chest, I grabbed the sabre and ran to where Wei Lin was pinned beneath the other wolf.
The wolf was on top of him, fangs gnashing as Wei Lin held it back with both arms. His sabre lay a few feet away, out of reach, and blood stained the wooden floor beneath them.
"Fang Wu!" he shouted, voice ragged. "H—help"
I threw myself forward, shoulder slamming into the beast's flank. It gave a startled snarl as we tumbled across the floor together.
I ended up on top of it and didn't give it a chance to recover. My sabre came down once, twice, three times.
Each strike aimed for the neck. The second blow caught bone. The third went through.
The wolf jerked once, limbs twitching, then went limp, blood pooling fast beneath its ruined throat.
I turned to face Wei Lin but something latched onto my foot.
Teeth sank in deep, grinding against bone. I was yanked backward, dragged across the blood-slick floorboards, the world tilting as I was ripped away from Wei Lin and the second corpse.
I twisted hard, my free leg kicking wildly until I could roll to my side.
Another wolf had its jaws clamped around my ankle. It snarled and pulled again, sending fresh pain through my body.
I raised the sabre and hacked.
The blade caught its shoulder. It yelped and flinched back, releasing my leg. Blood poured down my calf, hot and pulsing, but I forced myself upright.
The wolf circled wide now, wary.
Behind me, I heard shuffling. Wei Lin stumbled upright.
He limped forward, sabre recovered, blood across his knuckles. He stepped beside me, just close enough that our shoulders brushed.
Two more wolves stepped in through the broken door. Moving to either side of the room. Crouching low and growling.
Chapter 22
The middle wolf crouched low, its head dipped, violet eyes locked on me. A guttural growl rumbled from deep in its chest.
The other two began to circle.
One to the left. One to the right.
They moved with practiced precision. Their paws silent against the blood-slick floorboards, their breath misting in the cold air as it ghosted through the shattered doorframe.
I adjusted my grip on the sabre. My fingers were slick, either from sweat or blood. I couldn't tell anymore.
Wei Lin was beside me, sabre raised, mirroring my stance. His mouth was tight. A shallow cut on his cheek leaked a thin line of blood.
Then the middle wolf snapped forward.
Just a step. Just a test. Its jaws clacked shut on nothing but air.
That was all the smaller one needed.
It darted in from my left, fast and low, a streak of pale fur. I twisted with it, already expecting the lunge. My sabre came down in a hard arc, the edge catching it clean across the ribs. The blade bit deep. The creature howled, staggering, but that's when a weight slammed into my back.
I was too slow to brace. The force knocked me clean off my feet and into the wounded wolf. We hit the floor in a tangle of limbs and snarls. The larger wolf was already on top of me. Its jaws closed on the back of my neck, teeth puncturing flesh.
Pain exploded behind my eyes. My limbs spasmed.
And then—
Skill Activated: Last Stand
Conditions met. Emergency override engaged. Boosting physical output. Suppressing pain response.
The fog snapped back like a broken string.
I twisted hard, adrenaline surging. My sabre reversed in my hand, blade angled upward. I drove it behind me, through fur and muscle and bone. The wolf shrieked and tore away, blood trailing in an arc as it backed off, yowling.
But I wasn't clear yet.
The smaller wolf I'd struck earlier was still alive and angry. Its claws raked across my exposed side, opening a fresh wound that burned like fire. I rolled hard, kicking off the ground and dragging myself to my feet, teeth clenched against the ringing in my skull.
My blood painted the floor. Thick and dark.
The edges of my vision pulsed.
But Last Stand kept me moving.
I caught a flash of Wei Lin in the corner of my eye. He was locked with the third wolf, dodging and weaving, his sabre carving shallow arcs.
I turned back.
The larger wolf had circled again. Its face was half-shredded where I'd stabbed it, one eye dangling uselessly from its socket. It snarled and lunged, and I met it with a roar of my own.
My sabre swung across its face in a diagonal slash, cutting deep into the exposed side of its head. Its dangling eye was cut off. Blood sprayed and beast reeled but didn't go down.
I followed through with my momentum.
I brought the blade around in a tight upward arc as I twisted. Last Stand giving my muscles strength I didn't have on my own. And I buried the sabre deep into its neck. Right where the jaw met its neck.
The beast's legs gave out.
It hit the ground like a sack of meat, thrashing.
I turned.
Wei Lin shouted something. I barely heard him.
He was on one knee, the last wolf lunging at him.
He struck first.
His sabre went up, right through the open jaws.
Steel punched through flesh and shattered teeth.
The wolf's own momentum drove it onto the blade.
It collapsed, impaled, with the blade sticking out the back of its head.
Wei Lin fell backward, panting.
We locked eyes.
He nodded, breathing hard.
My stomach sank. I twisted to see where the smaller wolf was.
I scanned the room, eyes darting past broken furniture and blood-soaked walls.
Then I heard it.
A low growl.
Not aimed at me.
At the back of the room—behind the curtain.
No.
I took a step forward. My leg buckled.
Pain lanced through me. My knees hit the ground.
The world tilted sideways.
"Fang Wu!" Wei Lin's voice cut through the haze.
But I couldn't answer.
All I saw, through the pulsing dark, was that curtain.
Half-lifted. A pale tail disappearing behind it.
I forced myself to move. She couldn't die. Not yet.
Wei Lin caught my gaze.
Even through the fog in my eyes, I saw him tense. His whole body jolted like he'd just remembered something vital.
He was on his feet in an instant, bolting through the curtain.
I heard a shout. Then a loud crash.
The blood pooling down my back was hot, thick, and constant. Last Stand was still suppressing the pain, fighting to keep me moving, but it wasn't enough. I could feel the drain. I was bleeding out.
I dug my sabre into the ground, using it like a crutch. My arms shook, but I forced myself up inch by inch until I stood on one leg.
My right foot was mangled. Torn meat and shattered bone. Even with the pain dulled, every ounce of pressure made the world tilt sideways.
But I heard the fighting beyond the curtain.
I heard Wei Lin's voice—desperate, cracking.
I gritted my teeth. Grabbed the hilt until my knuckles turned white.
And limped forward.
The curtain parted under my hand, and the room beyond spun into view.
Wei Lin knelt between the last wolf and his mother's frail body, sabre raised in both hands. Blood poured from a wound on his thigh, forming a dark, wet pool beneath him. But he didn't flinch.
He was bracing himself. One knee down. Guard up.
The wolf snarled.
Then it charged.
Wei Lin steadied himself.
But at the last second, the beast didn't go for him.
Its paws hit the wall with a crack. It launched upward, using the surface as a platform and twisted mid-air toward the bed.
Toward his ma.
Everything in me froze.
No—
I moved.
I didn't feel my foot hit the ground. Didn't feel the torn muscles or shattered bones. I sprinted, dragging my weight behind me. Wei Lin turned in horror, helpless.
I reached for my belt.
My fingers closed around the hilt of the broken dagger.
I drew it in a single motion and threw it like I'd done a hundred times in training.
It spun once.
Twice.
Then sank into the wolf's throat.
The beast crashed onto the bed, yelping, momentum ruined. It rolled once, legs twitching—and I was already on it.
I roared.
My sabre plunged down into its chest. The blade slid deep into the ribs, hitting something hard and stopping cold.
The wolf didn't move again.
Wei Lin was beside me a second later, his breath ragged.
He looked down and froze. I followed his gaze.
His mother lay there, still.
Her blanket had been pulled back in the struggle. Her eyes were half open, glazed over.
And her throat…
Her throat was gone. Blood was pulsing out of the open wound.
Wei Lin crumbled.
He fell to his knees beside her, letting his sabre fall from his hand. His shoulders shook. He reached for her but pulled back at the last second like touching her now might undo something final.
A strangled sound escaped him.
Then he broke.
Fell over her body and sobbed.
My sabre clattered to the ground as I lowered myself, the last of my strength bleeding out with the silence.
Last Stand flickered.
My vision darkened.
And for a long moment, I didn't know if I was still breathing.
I didn't even notice the golden Qi entering my body or the system notifications.
I looked at Wei Lin, he wasn't moving.
He stayed slumped over his mother's body, shoulders shaking, hands curled into the soaked bedding beneath her. Blood ran freely from his stomach, dark and heavy, soaking through the cloth and dripping onto the floor in a slow, steady rhythm.
I didn't notice it at first.
Not until I saw the red pooling beneath him.
I took a step forward. My foot dragged.
He looked up.
His face was pale, eyes dull with pain and grief. His mouth opened, cracked and dry, and he stared at me.
"I..I couldn't save her."
Then his eyes rolled back.
He crumpled.
I caught him before he hit the ground, his full weight collapsing against me.
I almost let us both fall. My arms were shaking, blood still pouring from my side. The world tilted and swam, and the cabin spun in my vision.
But I didn't let go.
I pulled him close and rose with a groan, one arm looped under his shoulder, the other under his legs.
Pain flashed like lightning up my spine. My shredded ankle buckled. The gash on the back of my neck burned every time I breathed.
But I stood.
And I walked.
Step by step, we left the ruins of that cabin behind.
The night was still and cold, the forest hushed and heavy. Every branch creaked. Every gust of wind cut through me like glass.
I couldn't tell if the howling I heard behind us was real or just my mind unraveling.
Wei Lin's weight was heavy, dragging me down with every step.
The blood loss was getting to me. My hands were numb. My breath came shallow. But I didn't stop.
"You still owe me fish," I rasped. "And you said we'd go back to the forest, remember? Bastard."
I stumbled, nearly taking us both down.
Thirty minutes to Fallen Mist.
I didn't remember most of it.
Only the taste of blood in my mouth.
The sound of my heartbeat in my ears.
The way the weight of Wei Lin's body nearly broke me every step.
But I made it.
Just as the first hints of morning light broke across the paddies, I saw the wooden fence marking the edge of the village.
A figure stood at the gate.
Carrying linens. Moving slow. Until she saw us.
"Fang Wu?" Lian Rui's voice was soft, uncertain.
I tried to say something.
Anything.
But all that came out was a broken exhale and a splatter of blood.
She dropped everything and ran.
I took one more step.
Then another.
My leg gave out.
We collapsed in the dirt.
The last thing I saw was her face coming into view, as the darkness finally took me.
Chapter 23
The world returned in pieces.
First, there was a deep and throbbing ache, pulsing at the back of my neck and side.
Then the scents—smoke, herbs, and blood—heavy in the air.
I blinked slowly, fighting through the fog clouding my mind.
Wooden beams stretched across the ceiling above me. Faint lantern light flickered against rough walls, almost drowned out by sunlight filtering through the open window.
I tried to move and immediately regretted it.
Pain flared through my side, down my leg, across my back.
"Easy," a voice said nearby.
I turned my head, gritting my teeth.
Master Kai sat at a small table a few feet away, grinding something with a mortar and pestle. His robes were rumpled, his face drawn with exhaustion.
"You're awake," he said without looking up. "Spirits willing, you'll stay that way. What have you got in you, boy?"
I tried to speak, but all that came out was a dry croak.
Kai pointed toward a clay cup beside the bed. "Drink. Slowly. You need to keep hydrated with the rate you're healing."
I forced my arm up. It felt like lifting a boulder. The cup was heavy in my hand, and the water tasted faintly of iron, but it eased the sandpaper lining my throat.
When I could finally talk, my voice was a ragged whisper.
"…Wei Lin?"
That got his attention.
Master Kai set down the pestle and stood, joints popping audibly. He walked over and checked the bindings around my ribs with professional efficiency.
"He's alive," he said at last. "Barely. Lost a lot of blood. Worse than you, if you can believe it."
Relief flooded me so fast it made me dizzy.
I sank back into the bedding, letting the tension bleed out of my battered body.
"You're lucky, Fang Wu," Master Kai said, his voice low. "Lucky that girl found you when she did. Another five minutes…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
I remembered the last thing I saw. Lian Rui's face, wide-eyed and pale as I collapsed at the gate.
"How long…?" I rasped.
"Just a day," he said simply. "You've been in and out with a fever. The worst of it's gone now."
I shifted slightly and felt the rough bindings around my ankle.
"Quite honestly, kid, you're a freak." Kai continued, "Only the spirits know how you made it all the way back into town."
I closed my eyes.
It felt like a lifetime had passed since that night. The blood, the wolves, the scream that still echoed in my head.
Wei Lin's mother.
I swallowed thickly. As selfish as it was, with her death, went my answers.
It still stung. I could have saved her.
"You should rest," Master Kai said, stepping back toward his table. "The council's calling a meeting. After this latest attack, the whole village is stirred up like a kicked nest."
I didn't answer.
I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, letting the pain and exhaustion wash over me.
The hours dragged.
The sunlight crept across the room, slow and heavy, turning the space into a muggy, stifling box. Sweat beaded on my forehead. I drifted in and out, the heat making the edges of my vision pulse.
It must've been close to midday when the door creaked open.
Soft footsteps padded across the floor.
I turned my head, muscles stiff and protesting, just in time to see a small figure approaching with a tray balanced in both hands.
She couldn't have been older than ten. Maybe younger. She wore a faded green robe tied at the waist with a frayed belt, and her hair was pulled into two crooked buns that stuck out wildly to either side of her head, making her chubby cheeks stand out.
"Food delivery!" she announced brightly, plopping the tray down on the stool beside me. "Master Kai said you need to eat or you could 'cark it'."
I blinked, caught somewhere between amusement and confusion. No, definitely confusion.
She beamed at me. "I'm Fi Yan! My ma works at the herb stalls. I help Master Kai sometimes 'cause ma says I talk too much and she needs peace." She kept smiling like that wasn't weird.
I managed a raspy, "Thanks."
She grinned wider, clearly taking that as an invitation to continue.
"You're Fang Wu, right? The one who carried Farmer Wei all the way from the paddies?" Her eyes went wide, practically glowing. "Everyone's talking about it. They said you looked like a blood ghost—face all white and clothes soaked red!"
She mimed staggering dramatically, arms flailing.
I huffed a breath that might've been a laugh.
"Well, you don't look like a ghost now," she said cheerfully. "Just kinda gross."
"Appreciate it," I muttered dryly, reaching for the tray.
It was simple fare—a bowl of rice and some boiled greens. It smelled like heaven.
I ate slowly, savoring each bite, while Fi Yan perched on the edge of a crate and chattered nonstop.
Apparently, Master Kai was grumpy but "had a soft heart like mashed bean cake." Madam Shen could heal a broken arm just by glaring at it. Lian Mei and Lian Rui had been in town that morning looking for medicinal herbs. And according to Mei Yan's best friend's uncle, the town council was planning something big.
"Probably a dragon hunt," she said, nodding seriously. "Or maybe they're finally getting rid of the giant mud toads. Master Kai says I'm not allowed to fight toads. Not after last time."
I didn't want to ask.
I couldn't ask.
Dammit all—I had to ask.
"What happened with the mud toads?"
She puffed up like she'd been waiting her whole life for someone to ask.
"I tried to ride one," she said proudly. "Biggest one in the west paddies. Old Sourback. I tied a rope around its neck and everything! Almost had it too. Until it jumped into the creek and dragged me with it." She lifted her sleeve, revealing a long, faint scar running up her forearm. "Master Kai said if I ever tried to ride another toad, he'd sew my mouth shut."
I stared at her.
She grinned wider, completely unfazed. "Worth it though. I almost tamed him!"
I shook my head, not sure whether to laugh or be impressed. "You've got to be kidding."
"Awesome, right? I'll get him next time. Then I'll have my very own spirit animal."
Honestly? It kinda was. I wasn't ashamed to admit, if I was ten I'd probably be right there with her.
I gave her a small smile and a nod. "Yeah. That's pretty awesome."
Eventually, Master Kai barked her name from somewhere deeper in the house.
Fi Yan hopped to her feet. "Gotta go! Don't die while I'm gone! And I'll tell you another one of my adventures!" she called cheerfully over her shoulder.
And with that, she was gone, leaving the door swinging slightly in the breeze.
I set the empty bowl aside and exhaled, the room suddenly very quiet without her in it.
For a long moment, I debated staying put. Letting my body rest.
But I couldn't.
I needed to move. I needed air. Especially from this stuffy room.
Gritting my teeth, I swung my legs off the bed.
Pain flared immediately but it was bearable. The worst of it had dulled to a steady, throbbing background hum. I could feel something deeper working beneath the surface.
The Qi.
My body was healing faster than it should've. Not instantly. But enough to notice.
I pushed myself upright, swaying slightly.
One step.
Another.
I made it to the door, braced a hand against the frame, and shoved it open.
Sunlight poured over me, warm and blinding.
I squinted against it and stepped outside.
The air smelled of warm stone and humid earth, tinged faintly with the heavier scent of herbs drifting from the healer's house behind me.
Across the road, maybe twenty paces away, sat The Crooked Reed. The tavern's sign swung lazily in the breeze. Beyond it, the familiar sprawl of rice fields shimmered under the sun.
A few villagers hurried by, baskets slung over their shoulders, casting quick, curious glances in my direction.
I stood there for a while, legs stiff, weight leaning on my uninjured side. The village buzzed around me, farmers hauling baskets of grain, children chasing each other barefoot, running down the street with no regard.
I shifted my grip on the doorframe, trying to steady myself, when a voice called out.
"Well now. I didn't think I'd be seeing you standing already."
I turned my head carefully.
Madam Shen was walking slowly up the road toward me, a large satchel slung over one shoulder. Her robes were dusted with rice chaff, her silver-streaked hair pulled back in a practical knot. She was the town's main herbalist and from what I gathered, the closest thing Fallen Mist had to a doctor besides Master Kai.
Her eyes crinkled as she drew closer, but there was a tightness in her mouth that didn't match the smile.
"You're tougher than you look, Fang Wu," she said, coming to a stop a few paces away.
I inclined my head slightly. "Trying to be."
She gave a small, approving hum and adjusted the strap of her satchel.
For a moment, she just studied me.
Then she said, softer, "Thank you. For what you did."
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
Madam Shen continued before I could find words.
"Wei Lin's like family to me. Always has been. His ma… she was a good woman. Stronger than she had any right to be. You did more than anyone could've asked."
I clenched my hands at my sides.
She must've seen my face, because she let out a small, rough chuckle.
"Don't look like that, boy. You didn't bring this on her. Those beasts would've come either way. It was bound to happen. We all told Wei Lin to move into town. The forest hasn't been safe for years now."
She looked out across the fields, where the green and gold of the rice paddies blurred into the haze of the distant hills.
"I was just waiting," she sighed. "Waiting for the merchant from Lianzhou to arrive. He was carrying the spirit pill we needed. Another two days, and she would've had it."
Her mouth tightened.
"But life's a stubborn thing. Comes when you don't want it. Leaves when you're not ready."
I stared at the ground, the weight in my chest pressing harder.
"I'm sorry," I said hoarsely.
Madam Shen gave a short, almost amused snort.
"You're young," she said. "You think you can fix everything if you just try hard enough."
She stepped closer, reaching out to give my shoulder a light pat. Her hand was firm, calloused from years of grinding herbs and gathering roots.
"You fought," she said. "You saved Wei Lin. That's more than most would've managed."
Then, with a final squeeze of my shoulder, she shifted her satchel higher and turned to go.
"Rest while you can, Fang Wu," she called over her shoulder. "The world doesn't stop turning just 'cause we're hurting."
And with that, she strode away down the road, weaving between villagers without looking back.
I watched her go until she disappeared into the crowd.
The ache in my ribs deepened.
Not from the wounds.
From something heavier.
The village moved around me like a slow current.
Vendors called from side streets, hawking bundles of dried herbs and skewers of roasted meat. The scent of cooked rice and smoke from a dozen chimneys hung thick in the air. A farmer trundled past with a broken wheelbarrow, muttering curses under his breath.
Fallen Mist wasn't big. Maybe three hundred, three hundred and fifty people at most. A patchwork of homes stitched together by dirt paths and stubborn rice fields. Fences leaned. Roofs sagged. Everything was worn thin by time and weather, but it was alive. And over the weeks I had grown to rather enjoy it.
I leaned against the side of the healer's shop, letting the sun warm my face.
I caught a glimpse of Lian Mei hauling a heavy sack over one shoulder, her freckled face set in a scowl as she argued with a wrinkled shopkeeper.
I shifted my weight, careful with my ankle. It still throbbed under the bandages, but the pain was a dull hum, manageable.
The door behind me creaked.
I turned just in time to see Fi Yan sprinting toward me, her two crooked buns bouncing wildly with every step.
"Fang Wu!" she called, waving one hand high in the air. "You gotta come!"
I raised an eyebrow. "What is it now? Another toad-wrangling contest?"
She skidded to a stop in front of me, dust puffing up around her sandals.
"No! Everyone's gathering at the main hall! Right now! All the elders are there and it's really, really important!"
She grabbed my sleeve and tugged.
I sighed, pushed off the wall, and followed her.
The main hall wasn't far. A wide, sloping-roofed building perched near the center of the village, raised slightly above the square on a foundation of old stone.
Today, the space outside was packed.
Villagers filled the square, milling around in loose clusters, murmuring quietly. Some carried tools, gripped tight in calloused hands. Even the old men from the tavern were there, standing straighter than usual, their tile games abandoned.
Up near the wide stairs of the building, four figures stood in a line.
I recognized a few of them from passing glances in town—stern-faced men and women, weathered by years of hard work and harder seasons. They wore simple robes, but they carried the kind of weight that only came from living a lifetime on the edge of survival.
Their expressions were grim.
They waited in silence as the crowd slowly settled, the noise fading to a low, expectant hush.
I found a spot near the edge, leaning carefully against a fence post.
Fi Yan hovered beside me, practically vibrating with curiosity.
"What do you think it's about?" she whispered loudly.
I didn't answer.
Because deep down, I already knew. And it wasn't good.
Chapter 24
One of the elders stepped forward.
He was younger than most of the others—maybe late forties—with a thick brown beard and a long scar cutting down his right cheek, breaking the beard into a ragged line. His robes were plain, stitched at the shoulders where heavy use had worn them thin. Still, he carried himself with a kind of steady weight.
He raised one hand, and the crowd quieted further.
When he spoke, his voice was rough but clear, carrying across the square without effort.
"Listen well, everyone," he said. "These past few weeks, the number of beast sightings around Fallen Mist has risen sharply. Too sharply."
A low murmur rippled through the gathered villagers.
The elder continued, his face grim. "Fields torn up. Herd animals gone missing. Homes left empty. What's more, the beasts are getting bolder. Coming closer to the village, even in daylight."
He let the words settle like stones dropped in a pond.
Several people shifted uneasily.
"For the safety of the village," the elder said, "the council has agreed to put a curfew in place. No one is to leave the village bounds after sunset. No wandering into the woods, no fishing at the south stream, no late work in the paddies. If you're caught outside after dark, you're on your own. Everyone is to move into the town. Where we can all protect each other."
The crowd stirred at that. Muttering. A few loud whispers.
Then a sharp voice rang out from the left side of the square.
"What're we supposed to do, Elder Tian?!" a stocky farmer shouted, jabbing his hand in the air. "You telling us to starve? How're we supposed to feed our families if we can't tend the fields properly? And are you expecting us to sleep on the streets. Surely it's not that bad."
A ripple of agreement passed through the crowd. Others nodded, voices rising in grumbled support.
Elder Tian folded his arms across his chest, frowning but saying nothing.
Instead, another figure stepped forward.
An older woman, grey-haired and sharp-eyed, wearing simple work robes tied neatly at the waist. She was shorter, her back bowed slightly with age, but her presence stilled the noise quickly.
She raised one hand in a calming gesture.
"We understand," she said, her voice steady but firm. "We all know the price of a wasted harvest. Of leaving your home unattended."
She glanced over the crowd, meeting eyes without flinching.
"But Fallen Mist is small. Always has been. We survive because we lean on each other. We don't leave anyone behind. We will all get by, hunters will still go out during the day. Homes will be opened to farmers. We will all work together."
Her words carried easily through the square, smoothing some of the tension.
She stepped down one stair, closer to the villagers.
"We'll work the fields earlier," she said. "Shift the hours. If some can't work, they'll help elsewhere. No one will go without food. No one will be left alone."
The murmurs died down, replaced by nods and a few relieved sighs.
"We've survived worse," the older woman said. "And we'll survive this."
There was a finality in her voice that left no room for argument.
Elder Tian lifted his head again.
"We've sent word to the Fallen Mist Sect," he said. "For aid. Whatever they can spare."
Another ripple of conversation passed through the villagers, softer this time.
A younger man beside me muttered, "like they will actually answer."
But no one spoke loud enough to challenge the decision.
Elder Tian scanned the crowd one last time, then gave a firm nod.
"For the safety of Fallen Mist," he said.
"For Fallen Mist," several voices echoed back half heartedly.
Fi Yan grabbed my sleeve and gave it a tug.
"Does that mean no more frog taming?" she asked, her voice mournful.
I closed my eyes and facepalmed.
"Come on, you menace," I muttered.
We started making our way back toward Master Kai's clinic, weaving between the thinning crowd.
But before we got far, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.
The village elder, Tian, I thought his name was, stepped down from the platform. His robe brushed the stone stairs as he moved toward us, his expression unreadable beneath that thick brown beard.
I straightened instinctively, feeling Fi Yan shift nervously beside me.
When he reached us, Elder Tian gave the slightest bow at the waist.
I hesitated, then mirrored it, lowering my head briefly.
When I looked up, the corner of his mouth twitched into a small, approving smile.
"You move well for someone who nearly bled out on our doorstep," he said.
"I'm feeling much better, thanks to Master Kai."
Tian's voice softened slightly. "I'm sorry, I haven't properly introduced myself. I'm Tian Fei. I wanted to thank you, Fang Wu. For saving Wei Lin."
He glanced toward the fields behind me.
"I knew his father well, when we were both younger and much less wise. It's good to see someone stand up for the boy when he needed it."
The thought of his mother's open throat replayed in the back of my mind.
"I didn't do much. He looked after himself."
He gave a quiet hum, like he didn't quite believe that but wasn't going to argue.
"The village is going to need men like you in the coming days," Elder Tian said, his voice dipping low enough that only I could hear it. "Rest up while you can."
Before I could respond, he clapped a hand lightly on my shoulder and turned away.
I caught movement up near the council platform. The other elders were still there, standing just beneath the faded banners of the sect building, their eyes following me across the square.
I shifted my weight and looked away.
Fi Yan tugged my sleeve again. "Come on, slowpoke."
I let her pull me along.
The streets were clearing now, villagers drifting back to their homes and shops. Lanterns were being lit, their warm glow pushing against the deepening twilight.
We made it back to the healer's just as Master Kai was stepping out onto the porch.
He spotted us immediately.
His eyes narrowed into slits, and he crossed his arms over his chest.
"Fi Yan," he said, his voice sharp, "what did I tell you about running off without finishing your chores?"
She ducked her head, suddenly very interested in the toes of her sandals.
"And you," Master Kai added, jabbing a finger at me. "Out of bed already? Spirits above, boy—you think a few hours of sleep fixes torn flesh and blood loss?"
I lifted my hands defensively. "Just needed some air."
"Air," he repeated dryly. "Next time you collapse in the street, don't come crying to me then."
Despite his words, there was no real anger in his tone. Just a deep-seated exhaustion—and maybe, just maybe, a little relief.
I offered a small, sheepish nod and followed him inside.
Fi Yan scampered in after me, still muttering under her breath about "no sense of adventure."
The door swung shut behind us, sealing out the last light of day.
I followed Master Kai through the narrow hallways of the clinic.
The place wasn't large by any means, just a handful of rooms branching off a crooked main corridor but it was solid. Built from riverstone and timber, thick enough to hold against both weather and time. A far cry from the cabin out by the fields.
I winced at the thought.
The cabin was gone now. Broken and splintered, its walls torn apart, the old roof caved in. I'd come to enjoy it out there. In the quiet.
And now it was just another ruin.
The pang of loss caught me by surprise. I pushed it down and kept walking.
We reached a heavy oak door, slightly ajar, and Master Kai nudged it open with the heel of his boot.
The sharp tang of herbs filled the room instantly. Thick. Bitter. It clung to the air like a second skin. Dried bundles hung from the ceiling beams all twisting slowly in the faint breeze from the window. I had no idea what they were but they must have been important, judging from how many there were.
Wei Lin lay in the center of it all, swallowed by the bed.
He looked even thinner than I remembered.
His chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths. His face was pale, almost translucent in the half-light, and his hair clung to his forehead in damp strands. His torso was wrapped so tightly in bandages that there wasn't an inch of skin visible. The fabric was stained faintly red in places, where the blood had seeped through.
I stepped closer, my hand tightening around the doorframe without meaning to.
"He'll live," Master Kai said from behind me. His voice was quiet but certain. "Barring fever or spirit slippage, he'll pull through. Just needs time."
I nodded without looking back.
Master Kai gave a low grunt, then turned and herded Fi Yan away with a few sharp words about chores and 'not pestering the half-dead.'
The door clicked shut softly behind them, leaving me alone with Wei Lin.
I pulled a chair over and sat heavily beside the bed.
For a long time, I just watched him.
The steady, fragile rise and fall of his chest.
The small twitches of his fingers every now and then, like his body was fighting even in his sleep.
The memories clawed their way up.
The fight.
The blood.
The moment I realized I couldn't save her.
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, letting the weight of it all settle.
And then, very quietly, I said, "Sorry."
Not really to him.
More to myself.
Sorry for not being stronger.
Sorry for letting another person get hurt while I stood there, too slow, too weak, too human.
Sorry for surviving when others didn't.
I pressed my hands together, fingers locking tight.
And sitting there, in the silence, I made a promise.
I wouldn't let this happen again.
I didn't care how far I had to go. How much blood, sweat, or Qi it took.
I would become strong enough.
Strong enough that the next time death came, I could stand between it and the people who needed me and not move.
I sat there until the light outside faded into a soft violet dusk. Until the ache in my chest dulled into something cold and steady.
Until the promise was no longer just words, but something hard, like iron, forged deep inside my bones.
Only then did I lean back, resting my head against the wall, and let my eyes close for a while.
Tomorrow would come fast.
And I had work to do.
Chapter 25
My head jolted off the wall where I'd been leaning, snapping me awake.
I blinked, disoriented for a moment, before remembering where I was. Still sitting in the chair beside Wei Lin's bed. My body was stiff, my muscles sore. I twisted my neck carefully, feeling the pull of stitches at the back. I wasn't meant to fall asleep here but exhaustion had clearly won that battle.
I rubbed the grit from my eyes, the wooden chair creaking as I shifted. I decided to do what I was supposed to last night.
I called on my system and it responded.
Qi absorbed.
System sync in progress…
Stat Increased
Spirit: 16 → 18
Constitution: 15 → 16
Agility: 10 → 11
Progress: Mortal 4/10 → 6/10
I stiffened slightly.
Two full tiers. Another chunk of my body reforged by Qi. I could feel it too. The more I progressed, the more the Qi was changing me, making everything feel sharper, tighter, stronger. Building in me, waiting for something I was unaware of.
I exhaled slowly and reached inward, pulling up my full status sheet.
Status
Name: Ethan Ward
Cultivation: Mortal – 6/10
Titles:
• Diligence's Chosen
• Otherworlder
Skills:
• Last Stand
Stats:
Strength: 11
Agility: 11
Constitution: 16
Spirit: 18
I stared at it for a long moment, a strange feeling twisting in my gut. I needed to max out my cultivation. And I had a feeling there would be plenty of opportunity to in the next few days. Especially if my injuries were healing as fast as I felt they were.
A commotion interrupted me, snapping me away from the system window still hovering faintly at the edge of my vision.
Loud shouting. Sharp enough to cut through the morning haze.
I pushed myself up from the chair too fast.
Pain lanced through my side, sharp and punishing. I gritted my teeth, cursing under my breath. Dumb move.
Still, I staggered to the front door and pushed it open.
The air outside was thick and heavy. A cluster of villagers had gathered at the edge of the square, voices rising in a low, chaotic hum. I spotted Master Kai immediately. He was in the center of it all, sleeves rolled up, snapping orders like he was on a battlefield.
Two hunters sat slumped at his feet, battered and bloodied.
I moved forward, weaving between the crowd, I needed to know what was happening.
As I got closer, I caught the tail end of the hunter's frantic explanation.
"We went out to check the southern traps," he panted. "Us and the others. Normal rounds. Then—then they came."
Master Kai knelt, binding the wounded man's leg with swift, efficient hands. "What came?"
The man swallowed hard, his face pale.
"Beasts," he said. "Not just one. A mix. Packs of them. Too many. We didn't stand a chance. We ran… we ran back as fast as we could—"
A sharp bark of laughter escaped his companion, half delirious. "Would've been meat if old Garen didn't trip that ridge snare on the way back."
The other hunter muttered darkly under his breath, voice thick with exhaustion, "And we're being chased. Bet my good arm on it."
The words struck the crowd like a hammer blow.
People stiffened. Some clutched their tools tighter. Others exchanged quick, fearful glances.
Elder Tian pushed his way through the gathering crowd, his scarred face thunderous.
"Enough!" he barked. His voice cracked across the square like a whip.
He stood there, robe flaring slightly with the breeze, arms folded tightly across his chest.
"You heard them." he said. His gaze swept over the villagers like a blade. "This is no time to be standing around."
He turned, barking sharp orders to those closest.
"Barricade the gate. Get the paddies cleared. And you lot—" he jabbed a finger toward a cluster of older hunters still lingering on the fringes "—arm yourselves. And arm everyone you can."
"Spirits above," a farmer muttered beside me. I turned and looked at him. It was the same farmer from yesterday. "It's happening again."
The small village turned into organized chaos.
The young and the elderly were ushered toward the Fallen Mist Sect building, a long procession of wide-eyed children and hunched grandparents, clutching what few belongings they could carry. The rest of the villagers, anyone who could still swing a hammer or lift a board, scattered across the square, reinforcing barricades, dragging carts into chokepoints, hammering makeshift planks across weak spots in the fence line.
I stood on the porch, feeling useless.
My hand itched for a weapon.
The sun hung low, painting the fields in burnt gold. Shadows stretched long across the road. Every snapped branch or distant rustle made heads jerk around.
I squinted toward the treeline, scanning the fields past the broken paddies.
Movement caught my eye.
A white silhouette, low to the ground, moving with slow, predatory grace just at the edge of the trees. I narrowed my gaze, catching a glimpse of its long, misty tail before it slipped back into the undergrowth like a ghost.
I tensed, my hand instinctively clenching into a fist.
A breath brushed my shoulder.
I turned slightly.
Master Kai had moved up beside me at some point, standing quiet, arms folded.
His sharp eyes followed my line of sight.
"You saw it too?" he asked, voice low.
I nodded once.
Kai's mouth tightened. His weathered hands flexed at his sides.
"Mistfang Hound," he muttered, almost to himself. "Bloody spirits."
He spat off to the side.
I glanced at him sharply. "You know what they are?"
He nodded grimly. "Old breed. They were used during the Sect Wars, back in the days when the sects tamed beasts for battle. Not many wild ones left anymore. But the ones that are…" He shook his head. "They're scouts. If they're sniffing around the village… the rest aren't far behind."
I swallowed hard.
Kai clapped a hand on my shoulder and then turned back toward the clinic.
A few moments later he reappeared, carrying something wrapped loosely in a cloth.
He tossed it toward me.
I caught it reflexively.
It was my sabre.
Still scratched. Still bloodstained. But intact.
"You're going to need that again," Master Kai said, his voice heavy. "Sooner rather than later."
He met my gaze for a long, grim heartbeat. Before heading off to do whatever the only healer in the village does.
The day dragged on.
The sun slipped lower, casting long shadows that crept along the floorboards of the clinic. I used the time to rest. What little rest I could manage.
Fi Yan sat stubbornly beside my bed, swinging her legs back and forth like she had nowhere better to be.
Apparently, the sect building was too stuffy with "old farts," in her words.
I knew I should've told her to go back up there. That it wasn't safe down here. That she'd be better off surrounded by thick walls and as many able bodies as possible.
But the words stuck in my throat.
In some twisted way, she reminded me of myself at her age. Always ready to fight the world with nothing but a stubborn will. Always eager to challenge anything that moved. It was that same reckless spark that kept me and Elise alive back home. I loved it and hated it at the same time. Because it was the same reckless spark that had landed me here. Away from everything I knew.
Fi Yan picked at a loose thread on her sleeve, unusually quiet for once.
Then, in a voice small, she asked, "We're gonna be okay, right?"
I looked at her.
At her crooked little buns and smudged cheeks. At the kid who thought taming giant toads was a reasonable life goal.
And I made another promise I wasn't sure I could keep.
"We'll be fine," I said. "I'll protect you."
Her shoulders loosened.
She smiled, a small, tired thing and for a moment, she looked far older than ten.
I couldn't let that sit.
So I reached for the first thing that came to mind.
"How about another one of your adventures?" I asked, forcing some lightness into my voice. "You said you had a thousand, right?"
Her face lit up immediately, all traces of fear forgotten.
"I've got a thousand and five!" she declared proudly. "Wanna hear about the time I tried to catch a thunder eel with nothing but a bamboo pole and a bucket?"
I leaned back against the pillow, closing my eyes with a tired huff of breath.
"Sure," I said. "Hit me with your best one."
She launched into the story with all the enthusiasm in the world, her words tumbling over each other faster than her mouth could keep up.
When she finally wound down her story. Something about getting chased out of Madam Shen's garden by an "angry spirit goose" I leaned back with a tired chuckle and fished around inside my robe.
Somehow, miraculously, when they'd gone to salvage what they could from the wreckage of the cabin, someone had thought to grab our weapons… and my phone.
It was half-cracked, the screen spiderwebbed at the corners, but still intact.
A little piece of Earth. Of home.
I turned it over in my hands for a second, thumb brushing over the worn case.
Then I popped the back open and fished out one of the old wireless earpieces tucked inside.
Fi Yan watched with growing curiosity, her head tilting slightly like a bird watching a shiny rock.
I held out the earpiece.
"Put this in your ear," I said, grinning a little. "You're about to experience real magic."
She hesitated, just for a breath, then snatched it from my hand and jammed it into her ear without question.
I chuckled and scrolled through my cracked playlist.
Found the one I was looking for.
Sticky Fingers — How to Fly.
Home.
The opening chords hit, rough and mellow, crackling slightly through the battered speakers. A lazy, wandering melody poured into the quiet room, carrying with it memories of a city a world away. Long nights and fun memories. The kind of simple freedom I hadn't felt in what seemed like a lifetime.
I watched Fi Yan carefully, waiting for her reaction.
At first, she just blinked.
Then her eyes widened.
Her mouth opened slightly, then closed again.
She sat there, frozen, as the music wrapped around her, head cocked like she was trying to catch every note and hold it in her hands.
For the second time since I'd met her, Fi Yan had no words.
None at all.
Just wide, wonderstruck eyes and a tiny smile growing at the corners of her mouth, like the song was something sacred she didn't want to break by speaking.
I leaned back, closing my own eyes, letting the music fill the cracks the world had left in me.
When the song ended, Fi Yan stared at me expectantly.
Her mouth opened immediately, her eyes shining.
"More," she demanded. "I need more. Right now, Big Brother Fang! Pleeeeeease."
I let out a soft, helpless laugh.
God, how could I say no to that?
"Alright," I said, thumbing through my playlist. "I've got one I know you'll love. This one's an absolute classic."
I scrolled, finding the next track.
Bhad Bhabie—
The horn outside blew.
A long, low blast that echoed across the village, cutting the moment clean in two.
I bolted upright, grabbing my sabre from where it leaned against the wall.
The sound of it woke something in me. Training. Survival. That old, primal instinct that didn't care how tired or hurt I was.
"Get to the sect building," I barked at Fi Yan. "Now."
I didn't wait for a response.
I was already out the door, boots slamming onto the packed earth.
The square was chaos. Men and women rushing past, some armed with spears, others with old farming tools sharpened to deadly points. Lanterns flared, shadows dancing wildly across the walls.
I pushed through them, my injured foot protesting with every step. But I shoved the pain down, locked it away in a small, hard place inside me.
Ahead, near the front gate, I spotted him.
The Elder Tian.
Scar Face, as I'd come to think of him, stood at the centre of the crowd like a boulder in a river, unmoving as people surged around him. His heavy axe rested against one shoulder, and he barked orders sharp enough to slice through the noise.
When I reached the front line, he caught sight of me and gave a grim nod.
"Brace yourselves!" he shouted. His voice rolled across the square like a war drum. "Something's coming!"
I tightened my grip on my sabre, feeling the edge of the blade vibrate with my heartbeat.
The world narrowed to a razor's edge.
I was ready.
For once in my damn life, I was ready.
I wouldn't let anything happen to the people behind me.
Not Wei Lin.
Not Fi Yan.
Not the sisters.
Not Master Kai.
Not anyone.
Not while I still drew breath.
We stood there.
Waiting.
The world seemed to hold its breath.
And then—
A shape emerged from the tree line.
The tension in the air could have snapped a bowstring.
I shifted my stance, weight balanced, muscles taut.
The figure grew clearer.
An ox.
Pulling a battered old cart behind it.
For a second, no one moved.
Then Scar Face cursed loudly enough to be heard across the whole village.
"False alarm!" he barked, throwing a hand up. "Stand down, all of you!"
The crowd sagged visibly, relief and exhaustion crashing into the square like a wave.
The cart creaked as it pulled into the village proper, the ox snorting and tossing its head lazily, completely unaware of the panic it had caused.
A young man, jumped down from the cart bed with a surprising amount of energy.
He was lean, dressed in plain traveler's robes, dusty and road-stained, with a wide, lazy grin stretched across his disgustingly handsome face.
He adjusted a satchel slung over one shoulder and spread his arms theatrically.
"Well, well," he said brightly. "Looks like I've walked straight into the lion's den."
No one answered.
The young man continued, completely unfazed.
"Greetings, good folk of Fallen Mist! I suppose now's as good a time as any to introduce myself." He gave an exaggerated, flourishing bow, sweeping one arm low. "I'm your merchant from Lianzhou. Here at your service."
He straightened, his grin widening.
And then, very deliberately, he looked up.
His eyes locked directly onto mine.
A flicker of something unreadable passed through his gaze. Sharp. Calculating. Just for a heartbeat.
Then it was gone, replaced once more by that easy, disarming smile.
I narrowed my eyes slightly, instinct prickling the back of my neck, making my stitches feel itchy.