Blood Moon

by Patrick Laplante

  “Li Hao, wake up!” Feng Ming barked. The man finally awoke from his daze and immediately started throwing up.

  “I didn’t mean to, Sergeant!” he said, trying to explain.

  “No need to explain. The captain and the others are dead, and it’s only you and me! Gear up, soldier!”

  Li Hao’s eyes went wide as he digested what Feng Ming had said. He then immediately went about obeying his orders. The soldier dressed himself up for battle more quickly than he had ever thought possible. He and Feng Ming crawled out from the window. He knew it was only a matter of time until the guards wandered upstairs. Li Hao’s hands were shaking, barely able to keep a grip on the sword.

  The duo rushed behind the inn toward the stables. As Feng Ming quietly opened the stable door, he was overwhelmed with the stench of blood. He looked into the dimly lit stable—four of the six horses had been decapitated, and the ground was strewn with blood and gore. Two of the horses were still tied up, but instead of whinnying loudly, they were paralyzed with fear, the hay beneath them covered in excrement.

  Just as they were about to bolt for the two horses, they were startled by a strange chewing sound. They looked downward, only to find a gruesome figure staring at them. It was one of the guards, the largest one. In his hands, he was holding a large piece of bloody horse flesh, which he had just carved out from a dead horse’s stomach.

  Enraged and horrified, Feng Ming and Li Hao charged forward with their swords. What used to be a guard yelled, his body swelling by thirty percent. His mouth was four times as large as what should normally be possible, and it could now barely be called a human.

  Feng Ming, being at the fifth level of qi condensation, used his footwork technique, Three-Layered Burst Steps. He swung out with his sword, which glowed red like a brand, ready to slice through anything in its path. He swung the sword toward the monstrosity’s head, attempting to decapitate it.

  To his surprise, the monstrosity that used to be a guard quickly moved his head, interrupting the trajectory of the blade. The hideous creature bit down on it with all its power, causing Feng Ming’s spirit weapon to crack.

  What the hell? What kind of infernal beast is this?

  The blade snapped. However, just as the beast prepared to pounce on Feng Ming and give him the same treatment, Li Hao snuck up behind it and decapitated it.

  The creature fell to the ground, twitching. The duo didn’t wait to confirm it was dead and quickly hopped on their horses, who gratefully led them out of the stable at a breakneck pace. As they passed the inn, they noticed two angry men charging out. One bore a large great sword, and the other held a large spear. They both burst forth with unreasonable speed. While Feng Ming was able to dodge the great-sword-wielding fiend’s blow, Li Hao wasn’t so lucky. He was struck in the chest with a spear. The horse continued to run beside Feng Ming. Li Hao was gone.

  As Feng Ming and the two horses ran toward the edge of the village on the main street, he spotted a glint of metal in the light of the moon. He quickly jumped off his horse, stumbling to the ground just in time to see a large figure with red eyes holding a great sword, swinging through the air above the horse. Judging by its uniform, it also used to be a guard.

  “What are you?” he whispered. “Desert Sandstorm!” he roared as the monster charged forward, and a thirty-meter cyclone of heated sand surrounded him. The beast roared in rage, its sight blinded by the burning sand. Its agility was frightening, and the abilities it displayed far exceeded what was capable of a cultivator at the fourth level of qi condensation.

  Feng Ming took advantage of its obscured vision to attack its side, his blade glowing red at the last second and cutting deeply into its thigh. Despite the vicious blow, the monster roared as it struck out with a palm. The palm, which was covered in a black energy, struck Feng Ming several meters away, breaking several ribs in the process.

  Coughing up blood, Feng Ming got up as fast as he could. He noticed that his sword was still embedded in the monster’s thigh. Hopefully its mobility had been affected.

  Seeing that he had been disarmed, he pulled out a spare sword from his bag of holding. It wasn’t magical, but it was better than nothing. He darted toward the monster, which was busy removing the sword from its thigh.

  Just as he was about to reach the monster, he changed his direction, quickly darting toward another nearby monster, which was hacking about wildly in the sandstorm.

  Three-Layered Burst Steps!

  He took advantage of the large gaps in its swordsmanship, thrusting his glowing red sword into the creature’s abdomen. He felt the sword slide into the strange humanoid creature. Having learned from his previous experience, he quickly let it go, darting off to the side toward the last remaining horse in the distance. The other horse had already been cleaved in two.

  Darting away had been the right decision. Just as he left the space he had previously occupied, a great sword hacked down with tremendous force. Feng Ming’s ability, Desert Sandstorm, finally expired. The two monsters noticed him running toward his horse, but the grievous wounds Feng Ming had inflicted were sufficient to slow down their otherwise swift movements.

  Feng Ming didn’t hesitate and quickly hopped onto the fearful horse, which darted toward the nearby woods. He didn’t trust the roads anymore.

  What were those creatures? he thought. Were they devils, the creatures that my nanny told me about to scare me into behaving?

  While he didn’t know the answer, he knew what he had to do next. He had to get back alive, and he couldn’t go missing. Even the slightest delay in information could prove fatal to the king’s army.

  Clink. Clink. Clink.

  One gold coin after another fell onto a heavily used desk, joining the rest of its shining brethren in neatly piled stacks of ten. A pair of bony white hands inspected each of them carefully, evaluating their weight by touch alone. This was an impressive skill, one that had taken the Merchant many months to learn. At first he had weighed piles of fifty coins on a merchant’s balance, verifying the gold content in batches. However, the cool feeling of gold on his hands brought warmth to his entire body. It was the only thing that could excite him.

  Suddenly, a sound that only he could hear rang through his head. It sounded like a page tearing. Only important and urgent things would accompany this sound. Sighing, he carefully put away his gold coins. They vanished in his hands, leaving behind only a trace of gold gas, as though they had disappeared from the material plane into another dimension. The feeling was exquisite, second only to the aforementioned feeling he experienced when touching the gold.

  Now that his previous earnings had been properly stored, he retrieved a black notebook from his bag of holding. It was vibrating intensely, threatening to break free of its bindings if it was not opened soon. This method of communication, while convenient, was extremely annoying to the Merchant. Whatever happened to the good old days? People used to take the time to see each other in person or via astral projection. Now everyone insisted on sending each other bits and pieces of text every few minutes.

  Opening the black book, he saw a piece of writing in red. In the convention of the black notebook, this meant the message was extremely urgent. He started with the less urgent messages immediately before it and then proceeded to the urgent message. It contained troublesome news.

  The skinny man pondered for a bit. He couldn’t let the man escape, but he also didn’t want to endanger his assets. In addition, Crystal Meadows was short on manpower and would now have to evacuate the artisans. The profit they brought in with their crystal glass pieces was nothing to sneeze at, especially since he had increased their work hours to sixteen hours per day. After thinking up a solution, he sent a message with further instructions.

  After this brief exchange, the Merchant put down his pen and proceeded downstairs. He was feeling a little faint, as he hadn’t eaten all day. As he walked downstairs, he pondered what delicious meals his underlings had brought today.

  After all,
he never brought his own lunch.

  Chapter 9: Guidance

  Meanwhile, in Green Leaf City, Cha Ming was oblivious to the dangers befalling his friend Feng Ming. He continued to train hard. During the day, he crafted talismans, kept Huxian company, and cultivated. At night, he alternated between sparring with the red-bearded man in the Clear Sky Brush and carving out his qi pathways. After a whole month had passed, he finally completed the full qi pathway, which fully connected his limbs, organs, and dantian.

  Once this was completed, he redoubled his efforts in sparring to master the final two techniques: Shearing Staff and Seven Cloud Steps. Eventually, they were integrated into his fighting style as much as humanly possible—that is, without going through life-and-death battles. Only an epiphany would enable him to further comprehend these techniques.

  “Tsk. Huxian, it seems like we’ll have to go on another adventure soon. Are you getting bored yet?” Cha Ming asked the fox that was currently resting on the sunlit grass in his courtyard.

  These long breaks are unbearable, Elder Brother. Plus, all of this restaurant meat is getting really boring. I want to eat spirit beasts. High-level spirit beasts!

  Huxian got up lazily and stretched before running up to his brother’s leg. A hand gently reached down to scratch around his ears.

  Cha Ming’s cultivation had once again reached a bottleneck. And if previous experience was any indicator, he would require a full month to push through the bottleneck this time. The young man’s head ached as he struggled to determine exactly how he would find an adventure, a proper weapon, and medicinal pills.

  Two of these three things required a large amounts of spirit stones. Therefore, he began to fully pursue talisman crafting, churning out one sixth-grade talisman after another. This trend continued for a full month, until he was left with a full 206 talismans after trading for materials. Their face value was 105 mid-grade spirit stones and change. He wasn’t sure if this was enough, but it was a start, at least. With Huxian in tow, he walked across many courtyards on his way to Wang Jun’s new abode.

  What he needed now was advice.

  Wang Jun was currently seated at his desk, reviewing pile after pile of documents. Unfortunately, his work hadn’t progressed as quickly as he would have liked. He was distracted, and he knew the reason. The cause of his confusion was the pretty girl named Hong Xin. In just a few short weeks, the new couple had grown much closer. He enjoyed spending time with her, and he enjoyed making her happy. But was there any way this blissful situation would last?

  Every time he asked himself this question, the clear image of a bloody-faced little girl appeared in his mind. His sister had been very beautiful but very naïve. Talent without wisdom eventually led her to an early grave.

  He had never envied her talent. Quite the opposite—he had always encouraged her and played with her. He had fought for her interests in the family countless times. This caused his older brother to feel insecure with his position in the family. To further his own ambitions, his brother had schemed and arranged an “accident.” While Wang Jun knew the cause of his sister’s death, his elder brother had meticulously planned everything, leaving not a single shred of evidence behind.

  Thus his dilemma. Hong Xin tugged at his heart strings. She was beautiful, kind, and passionate. And she reminded him of his little sister, the one he hadn’t been able to protect. He wanted to spend time with her and take care of her. Was it for love or for atonement? Wang Xia had been his only ray of hope in a dark, cruel world.

  He knew that his indulgence with Hong Xin was extremely irresponsible. The ongoing dispute with the Zhou family was bound to be violent and treacherous. Hong Xin was one of his weaknesses, a weakness that grew greater with each passing day. Ignoring the damage this might cause him, it would place Hong Xin in a great deal of danger.

  Even without external enemies, the Wang family’s internal politics were cruel and unforgiving. Hong Xin herself was not a major threat to family interests, but their relationship would prevent potential marriage alliances. His family had often utilized marriages to secure new allies and to appease existing ones. In theory, his influence in the family was considerable. But there was always room for treachery, either through threats, coercion, or outright elimination.

  Wang Jun sighed. He put down his pen and walked over to his small cultivation room. He sat down cross-legged on a large and brilliant array formation. Several light-blue stones littered the floor beside the formation. A few of them had crumbled into piles of gray dust—their power had been completely sapped by the large array and converted to qi for his cultivation.

  As he cultivated, he regained his calm and focus. His determination was best expressed by the maxim shared by countless cultivators: Fate blesses the strong.

  Cha Ming and Huxian’s journey to Wang Jun’s courtyard took much longer than expected. On the way, Cha Ming was stopped and greeted by every cultivator he met on the streets. His status as a talisman artist had cemented his position in the community, as his goods were welcomed by all. Even the pretentious junior alchemists treated him politely. They were not afraid of his status, but the goods talismans artists produced were always in high demand and commanded an exaggerated premium. A high price for service was the telltale sign of a prestigious occupation.

  While Cha Ming proceeded at a snail’s pace, Huxian entertained himself by running around and chasing birds. His reputation was less than stellar, and his current actions provoked many glares from the nearby cultivators. Although they wouldn’t assault Huxian in front of his master, all options were on the table if they happened to encounter each other in a dark alley. Which, to Huxian, was just fine.

  Two hours passed by quickly and they soon found themselves in front of another student’s courtyard. On the surface, it looked identical to any other courtyard in the neighborhood. Only Cha Ming and a few others were aware of the truth. He braced himself as he and Huxian forced their way through an invisible defensive barrier. They were greeted at the door by Wang Jun’s assistant, who led them to a cozy living room much larger than the external appearance of the courtyard. Wang Jun’s cinnamon-scented fireplace had been brought to this new residence.

  They did not wait long. After an incense time1, Wang Jun walked out from a small door looking refreshed. Cha Ming’s eyes narrowed as he was overwhelmed with a dense cloud of qi, which wafted over from Wang Jun’s cultivation room.

  “I see that you have quite an energy-gathering formation in there. What grade?” Cha Ming was very curious—his portable energy-gathering formation was only a second-grade formation plate, a mortal-grade treasure.

  Wang Jun laughed. “Nothing too fancy. It’s only a mid-grade magic treasure.”

  Once again, Wang Jun’s wealth and connections never ceased to amaze Cha Ming. Magic treasures were goods created by professionals in the Foundation Establishment realm. Even a low-grade magic sword was many times more expensive than a ninth-grade sword—that is, if you could find someone to make it for you.

  According to what Cha Ming had read, mortal-grade treasures were classified by grades one through nine, while magic treasures were ranked as low grade, mid grade, high grade, and top grade. Most magic treasures could not be activated without the use of foundation qi. It was likely the case that this mid-grade magic formation—which was useable in the Qi Condensation realm—was worth as much as a top-grade magic treasure.

  “Then how about your current cultivation? I refuse to believe it’s only at the sixth rank, despite your identity medallion.” After all, Wang Jun had nearly unlimited wealth at his disposal.

  “Oh, I’m not doing too badly. I’m at the eighth level of qi condensation. If everything goes properly, I’ll be able to break through to foundation establishment within the year.”

  Wang Jun carefully sat down and started pouring tea for the three of them, ignoring the duo’s shocked expression. He only noticed their slack-jawed expression once he finished serving them.

  “Don’t look at
me that way. It’s not like this medallion means anything.” He removed his bronze identity medallion and flicked it through his fingers. “I worked hard to mask my talent, you know. It’s often best to remain unnoticed until an opportune moment. Besides, as a fifth-grade talent from a rich family, this level of growth is rather mediocre.”

  This information caused Cha Ming to question his will to live. The difference was too extreme, and he needed to work extra hard for every breakthrough. Huxian, on the other hand, simply expressed his sympathy. As a god-beast, his talent far eclipsed these so-called geniuses.

  Seeing his friend’s dour expression, Wang Jun cleared his throat and spoke first. “To what do I owe the pleasure today, Brother Cha Ming?”

  Hearing his name, Cha Ming snapped back to reality and scolded himself for moping.

  “Brother Jun, I’ve come to a bottleneck in my training, and I’ve realized there are a few things I need to do. After all, I can’t just stay cooped up in my cottage and train all the time. I’ve decided I need to do three things. First, I need to purchase some medicinal pills to aid me in breaking through bottlenecks in my cultivation. This latest breakthrough has made me realize that it takes me four times as long to break through each cultivation level than it takes to fill my qi lakes!”

  “Right,” confirmed Wang Jun. “This is normal. While you require increasing amounts of energy to break through, your cultivation speed can be increased using an energy-gathering formation and qi supplements. However, the amount of time required for you to break through will increase exponentially with each level of qi condensation.

  “Fortunately, your talent grade is at the third grade. For every talent grade increase, the time to break through typically doubles. You’re still not doing too bad on average.