50 The Wounded Soldier

The rhythmic beating of hooves on grassy soil broke the awkward silence in the hour just after sunset. This time was usually a lively one, where authority abruptly transferred from the day-roaming animals to the creatures of the night. Normally, travelers in these plains would be greeted with the chirping of thousands upon thousands of crickets and the occasional hoot of an owl. Now these creatures avoided the area. They specifically avoided the lone traveler slowly trotting forward on his lame horse.

Feng Ming was exhausted. The past week and a half of desperate fleeing had drained him in every way. Somehow he had managed to stick to his training and evade his pursuers. The gates of Fairweather were in his sights. They were closed, but that could be changed with a few convincing words. His only worry was that he had enemies inside the city. But there was nothing he could do about that.

The young man was covered in various wounds—knife wounds from a few close encounters with his pursuers, various rashes due to brushes with poisonous plants, and insect bites. He also had a single arrowhead stuck in his right arm. Luckily it had not struck a main artery. This stroke of luck had been his only respite during the entire chase. He was able to break away the main arrow shaft, leaving behind only a barbed metal head that could only be surgically removed.

Feng Ming's eyes carefully scanned the ground. He kept his eyes peeled for any pits or rocks. The past two days had proved especially challenging, and tripping and falling were not uncommon occurrences. Quite frankly, it was a miracle that his horse's leg wasn't broken after all these close encounters.

But speak of the devil, and he shall appear. After narrowly avoiding a gopher hole, the horse's hoof plunged into the tunnel network itself, which happened to be situated in unusually weak soil. His horse's screams echoed in the night, threatening to attract unwanted attention from the pursuers he assumed hadn't given up.

Feng Ming decisively cut the horse's throat, relieving it from its pain and exhaustion. They had been through much together, and under normal circumstances he would have sought out a healer. Unfortunately, he had to be careful. Who knew if his pursuers were nearby?

After accomplishing the grisly deed, he didn't have the strength to sheathe the bloodied sword. Instead, he opted to deposit it directly into his bag of holding, where it stained various other objects stowed there. There were far fewer objects than when he had set out from Crystal Meadows.

Any pills, food, and bandages had already been consumed or used. The few useful possessions he had remaining were a spare suit of armor, a couple of spare swords, and random tenting equipment—all standard issue in the army. He also had the remnants of an emergency kit, including a blanket and a flare. He had been hesitant to use it, fearing it would attract his pursuers.

The city wall was now two thousand feet away. He had no energy, but he forced his feet to keep moving forward.

Only two thousand steps. I can make it.

At least, that's what he thought before he realized that the wound on his abdomen had reopened during the fall from his horse. The wound had festered due to lack of treatment. The emergency ointment, which should have been able to ward off the usual infections, had failed to show any useful effects.

The sudden blood loss was the straw that broke the camel's back. Feng Ming collapsed to the ground, where an unfortunately placed sharp rock left a second deep gash in his side. He used his remaining moments of consciousness to take out the single precious flare from his storage. Most people would have struggled to light the flare—fortunately, Feng Ming dual cultivated fire and earth and quickly managed to light the fuse. The bright red flare flew into the air, where it quickly caught the attention of the guards on the city wall. Then, darkness took him.

***

Cha Ming, Bei Ling, Huxian, and Hong Lai arrived at the arena, where various adventurers in the city had been idle the entire week. These people liked fighting, whether to sharpen their skills or blow off steam. Watching exciting fights were a close second, since they could not get injured in the process.

The group of four bypassed the larger open-aired stadium where the masses gathered for entertainment. Instead, they proceeded to a brightly lit lounge where warriors were resting. As they walked, they heard enthusiastic voices praising the many prominent fighters that had appeared this past week.

"The Blood Queen is still my favorite," one man said. "Most people can't even look her straight in the eye without wetting themselves. The rest of them usually only last ten exchanges. Even then, it almost looks like she uses them for practice and toys around with them before finally putting them out of their misery. I hear that she defeated a seventh-level cultivator just two hours ago!"

Cha Ming had to admit that he was surprised at her rapid progress. To advance to his current realm, he had spent a small fortune on pills, consumed crystalized elemental essence through an expensive formation plate, and cultivated a variety of unusual techniques. Yet here she was, keeping up with his advancement step by step. Technically, Cha Ming's current talent level was a step higher than Gong Lan's, but this Blood World Scripture impacted more than just her combat prowess. It allowed her cultivation to progress rapidly despite the use of limited cultivation resources.

A beautiful woman dressed in a red leather outfit called out to him from the other side of the room. "Cha Ming, what brings you here?" Two large bloody sabers were strapped to her back. Gong Lan's greeting caused many people to glare at him enviously. If looks could kill, he would have died a dozen times right then.

Cha Ming chuckled as he and his three companions approached her. "A trial run," he said. "Master Bei has just completed my weapon, so I was looking for an opponent to test it out on. I heard your strength has increased once more. Care for a rematch?"

Gong Lan didn't need to be asked twice. She sped over to the registration desk and rented a private arena. This was disappointing for her growing fan group. Usually she opened a public arena, where people could watch from the sidelines after paying an admission fee. Every time she fought, they cheered for her while secretly hoping that she would be knocked into them, giving them an excuse to feel her tender skin under the guise of helping her up.

Before long, Cha Ming and Gong Lan were facing off against each other. They held their weapons out toward each other and saluted by touching weapons. Just like before, Gong Lan darted straight toward him. As a staff wielder, he needed distance from his opponents to properly execute his techniques. Infightingagainst someone like Gong Lan was only the natural thing to do.

Cha Ming didn't choose to avoid her aggressive charge. Instead, he used it as an opportunity to try out some select techniques with his new staff. He started off with Sword Staff, carefully parrying every blow from the heavy sabers. Gong Lan's expression changed with each blow—a forceful recoil hit her every time she parried an attack. Unlike last time, the staff delivered sharp, forceful blows to counter her aggressive technique. Silver patterns appeared on the staff, slightly amplifying his metal-aligned staff arts as he executed them.

"Tch. Fine, let's see how you handle this style," she muttered as her aggressive blows became soft and subdued. Her movements became gentle, and her steps flowed as she walked in circles around Cha Ming, slashing gently instead of aggressively like before.

It took Cha Ming a few moments to adjust to this new rhythm. In the process of adjusting, he was nicked five times. Fortunately his skin was very tough, and these superficial cuts healed almost instantly. His movements and staff arts soon adjusted, fusing the Wading Through the Reeds and Trapping Staff Arts, and fusing White Willow Shade with the Skating in Paradise Movement Techniques.

In one incense time, the wood and water techniques slowly fused together until their battle resembled a gentle dance. Only Cha Ming and Gong Lan could feel the intensity of the battle. Light, fleeting steps eventually merged with circular and sliding steps, to the point that Cha Ming could no longer tell where one movement art ended and the other began. His staff techniques now combined redirection with constriction, pushing with pulling.

Bursts of wood qi occasionally manipulated the friction of the floor, which in turn affected both his and her movements. Sometimes he used his staff to redirect blows. At other times, he redirected himself by combining his staff and movement techniques. Two movement techniques and two staff techniques had now combined into a seamless whole.

I'll call this combined martial art Gentle Staff Art, he decided in his heart. He had finally developed the embryonic form of his own martial art, one that perfectly suited him.

***

In the Clear Sky World, the red-bearded man observed the fight closely. He nodded as his student finally transcended rote-learning and repetition, fusing them together with his own understanding. The boy had a long way to go, but it was a good start. This first transformation was very important. It would grow Cha Ming's confidence, enabling him to realize that he could create something new for himself if he set his mind to it.

Quite frankly, it would have been a miracle if something like this hadn't happened eventually. The man had stacked eleven techniques on the poor boy at once, which was overwhelming for any one person to use in battle. He would naturally realize which ones flowed together and which ones didn't and naturally discard the rest. The fusion of these techniques would come with time. It was why he'd picked those techniques in the first place.

It was a pity that his opponent, the pretty lass, wasn't learning this valuable lesson. Cha Ming was adapting his techniques to himself while the girl was instead losing herself to her techniques. Bit by bit, he saw her innocence consumed by killing intent. Like a pure white snowflake painted red with blood.

Such a pity.

***

They walked out of the arena complex one hour later. Bei Ling was all smiles after finally witnessing the opening performance of his masterpiece. Hong Lai relaxed visibly when he saw his master's face finally regain color and vitality. He took the opportunity to gift the two revised defensive brooches to both Cha Ming and Gong Lan. While they weren't much, they might be some help in their upcoming adventures.

As they were walking down the dark streets, a crimson light suddenly flashed across the sky.

"Is that a rescue flare?" Cha Ming asked.

The more experienced member of the group, Bei Ling, nodded gravely before replying. "Let's go to the front gate and check it out. The timing is too much of a coincidence."

Their group arrived at the front gates in one incense time. Just in time to see a bloodied figure being transported through the front gates on a stretcher. Cha Ming and Gong Lan recognized that figure.

"Feng Ming?" they cried out in unison and darted out toward their unconscious friend.

"Halt!" One of the guards stopped them from approaching Feng Ming's unconscious body.

"We know that man," Cha Ming replied. "He is our friend and is part of the Royal Army. He is Feng Ming, son of Feng Chuan."

The guard looked at him dubiously. "As per policy, we must bring him back to the army barracks, investigate his background, and question him. He must also receive immediate medical care. Please return to your accommodations for the night."

"We will accompany him to the army barracks, then," said Cha Ming. "I can't rest easy knowing that my friend is injured." He also immediately released a spirit pearl manifestation—Healing Array—which quickly began mending Feng Ming's external wounds.

The guard's face flushed red. "What do you think you're doing? Stop it this instant! This is an important witness, and we can't have anyone poisoning him."

A few surrounding guards drew their swords as they approached Cha Ming. Cha Ming's expression became cold, and a clear staff suddenly materialized in his hands.

"How dare you accuse me of poisoning my friend and thinking you can do whatever you want with him. Who the hell do you think you are?" he shouted angrily at the guard. He did not retract the healing array. In response, the guards started closing in, prompting Gong Lan to draw her twin sabers.

The guard didn't back down. "I'm a captain of the guard in Fairweather City. I represent the lord here, and my word is law. Don't make me arrest you for disturbing the peace."

"Is there a problem here, gentlemen?" Bei Ling suddenly asked, causing the guard captain to freeze. The older man walked out from behind the others toward the soldiers, and his sudden appearance took the guards by surprise.

"Elder Bei," the lead soldier replied nervously, "the county lord instructed us to bring the one who shot the flare in for interrogation, as it might have a huge bearing on the local security of Fairweather City. We can't let anyone interfere in this matter."

"Well, these people aren't just anyone, and I will vouch for them. I also find it curious that the county lord has given such instructions, given his indifference to the security of Fairweather County recently," Bei Ling replied. Then, he turned to Hong Lai.

"Little Lai, kindly fetch Hai Tuo. This young man is badly wounded, and Hai Tuo is the best doctor in town. After that, please fetch Han Jinlong and Zhang Yifeng and bring them to the barracks. I'm sure they would be most interested in why a member of the Royal Army has been found just outside the city and badly wounded, especially since the rescue mission is heading out tomorrow. This man might have vital information for them."

Hong Lai quickly bowed before scampering off toward the center of town. Meanwhile, the guards had a sour expression on their faces. They quickly transported Feng Ming to the barracks under Cha Ming and company's close supervision.

***

A half dozen people were gathered around a bed in the barracks. They closely observed the gentle movements of an aged figure as he surveyed the unconscious young man on the bed. Occasionally, he prodded Feng Ming, prompting a soft groan from the unconscious patient.

After a half hour of observation, the man drew out a set of transparent needles. The 108 needles were clear and seemed to be crafted out of soul alloy. They quickly floated over Feng Ming's mostly naked body at the doctor's direction. The aged man then formed thirty-six hand seals, causing the 108 needles to gently stab into the wounded body at various key points.

Half of the needles glowed green, while the other half glowed blue. While this seemed like a simple process, beads of sweat had accumulated on the aged man's forehead. Yet he didn't let up his efforts. The needles continued to glow, and the man continued to concentrate.

After a half hour, the aged man suddenly grunted and stopped channeling his qi. Shaking his head, he looked back at the crowd of concerned people. "I'm sorry," he said. "I need to rest a short while before trying again. His wounds are very unfortunate. I have no idea how he survived so long given the circumstances."

"What exactly is wrong with him?" Cha Ming asked hurriedly.

"It's complicated, young man. Your friend has been poisoned with thirteen minor poisons, all of which are usually harmless. However, when combined in a very exact ratio, they produced a poison that rendered him comatose and began shutting down his organs.

"This normally wouldn't be problematic for me. However, using a treatment that should have a ninety-nine percent chance of success in normal cases didn't work. After probing his body once more, I observed that he has somehow awakened a special constitution. This would normally be a cause for great celebration, however it just happened to render the only method I had to counter it meaningless.

"Therefore, I tried to supplement his qi to take advantage of his awakened constitution's strength against poisons. To my surprise, the small amount of qi somehow caused him to reach a breakthrough in his cultivation. Which, in this specific situation, is disastrous! His body has entered a qi-deficient state, and due to some freak interaction, his body is rejecting any external qi.

"Simply put, this whole situation is a freakish accident. Your friend's heart could give out at any second."

Cha Ming and Gong Lan were devastated. How could such a thing happen to their friend? And who had pursued him so savagely, driving him into his current condition?

"That brown-haired kid probably made things worse with his 'healing,'" a hoarse voice said behind them. "Congratulations on killing your friend, kid. And who knows how many people." The man in question wore light-blue robes. The hem of his robes was embroidered with the characters for Fairweather. It was the county lord.

Cha Ming flushed red again. "Who the hell are you? You're not welcome here!" he snapped.

Hearing Cha Ming's words, the man's eyes narrowed, and a formless pressure suddenly weighed down on Cha Ming. It was the pressure of foundation establishment, which could cause any qi condensation cultivator's energy to lose control.

The pressure bearing down on him aimed to push him down to kneel. Since coming to this world, Cha Ming had never seen such an unreasonable and tyrannical person. Did he not see him as a person? Bei Ling frowned as he released his own power to counter the suppression. While the pressure eased up, Bei Ling was unable to completely remove the suppression.

Cha Ming gritted his teeth as he summoned forth his Clear Sky Staff and struggled to move forward. He was angry at being powerless, angry at the county lord's attitude, and more importantly, angry at his friend's treatment. He began to lose his usual clear-headedness, and his eyes turned red with rage. Huxian pounced forward to join Cha Ming, prompting Cha Ming to shout at him mentally.

Get back! I'll do it myself!

Huxian withdrew with a hurt look.

A little bit more, Cha Ming thought. He circulated his cultivation a little faster, and the suppressive power shuddered, allowing him to take a step forward. He then used the momentum to bring out his staff and strike out at the county lord with Quake Staff. As he was a little too far away, he extended his staff to double its usual length and increased its weight to four times its original weight.

"Humph. Little ant. Know your place." The county lord lifted his hand to intercept the staff strike. It halted in midair before even reaching the man's palm, prompting Cha Ming to collapse and cough out blood. Bei Ling stood in front of him.

"That's enough," Bei Ling said coldly. The county lord snorted and kept advancing without withdrawing his power.

"Overbearing as usual, I see," a voice boomed. They looked to the back of the room, where two men were standing with an extremely displeased look on their faces. These men were Han Jinlong and Zhang Yifeng. With the combined presence of these three individuals, the county lord withdrew his foundation-establishment pressure, and Cha Ming was finally able to breathe properly. He was quickly supported by Gong Lan, who had been just outside the effective range of the county lord's pressure.

As the two walked over, they suddenly realized that the old doctor had walked over to Feng Ming and felt his pulse. "You bloody idiot!" he shouted at the county lord. "Your stupid peacock posturing stopped his heart!"