A Thousand Li Books 1-3: An Omnibus Collection for a Xianxia Cultivation Series (A Thousand Li Omnibus)

by Tao Wong

  Another roar and Wu Ying turned around to watch with horror as Li Yao was bashed aside. Snow that had gathered around her body escaped as Li Yao lost control of her chi, the green-robed cultivator tumbling through shrubs and dirt before coming to a sudden rest. The taotei roared in triumph and shook its body. Accumulated ice, formed from a strike right below its rib, shattered and the pieces ejected. Doing so left a gaping wound that poured blood, the first effective strike of the battle.

  A flicker of motion in the sky. As Chao Kun dropped, he sheathed his fist in a spike of air and blood. Glimpses of wood could be seen beneath as the bracers he wore extended under the control of his chi. He landed the blow above the taotei’s sloping forehead, his air-powered chi dispersing as it met hardened skin, the wood spike shattering on the bone beneath. But behind the initial attack, Chao Kun’s fist continued forward. Under the blow, the earth beneath the taotei crumpled, grass and plants exploding upward from around the monster. The resulting impact and rebound threw Chao Kun’s limp body gracelessly through the air.

  Forced into the ground, the taotei blinked beady, confused eyes. The monster moved its front feet, pulling one foot out of the sucking ground before flopping it bonelessly back on the churned earth. A low, pitiful whine erupted from its mouth. From its nose, a slow trickle of blood appeared.

  “Senior Ge got him!” one of the returned cultivators said, enthusiastic in his admiration.

  Spurred on by the success of their leaders, the remaining pair of cultivators around the taotei launched their attacks. A crossbow bolt, enhanced by chi, dug into one back leg as the metal-aspected attack sent the bolthead spinning. The remaining attacker chose to attack the ground the taotei was enmeshed within, water flooding and mixing with the earth and making the creature sink deeper.

  Trapped, the taotei attempted to free itself a few times. Enraged, the creature raised its giant mouth to the sky and opened it. Expecting another roar, Wu Ying was surprised to see instead a black ball of energy forming in front of the monster’s mouth.

  “What…?”

  “Hold your auras tight!” Elder Wei commanded even as her fingers flicked and twisted in front of her.

  The black ball of chi, rather than exploding, collapsed into a smaller ball. Chi, at first floating toward the cultivating Elders, changed direction and flooded toward the ball. The two attacking cultivators screamed as aspected chi erupted from their bodies, stolen away. Even Wu Ying, standing a distance away, felt how the monster’s attack tugged at his aura, seeking to steal his chi.

  The attack lasted for three breaths before the taotei snapped its mouth forward and swallowed the much larger ball of black chi. Having consumed the chi, the taotei glowed for a moment then used its forelegs to propel itself out of the mudhole with a backward hop. Earth and mud erupted, splattering the twitching forms of the nearest cultivators.

  “It comes,” Elder Wei spoke, her voice still cold.

  As Wu Ying watched, she levitated her cauldron while the remaining injured, tired, and chi-bereft cultivators readied themselves for the monster.

  ***

  Slavering, fang-ridden mouth. A four-legged green-grey monster. Hunger given form. Black blood fell from numerous surface wounds and one major stab wound, poisoning the earth as the monster rushed forward. Even its blood hungrily absorbed the chi from the ground where it landed. As the taotei approached, its movements were off-beat, front and hindlegs moving at different intervals as the creature suffered from the concussion it had received.

  Wu Ying crouched low, hand on his still-sheathed sword, aura drawn as close and tight as he could. He watched the monster lope past him, ignoring the low-cultivation threat. Better prey lay ahead. Wu Ying’s friends, his sect mates, and the Elder. All who stood in a much-shortened line behind a floating metallic pill cauldron.

  The demon hopped, and the cauldron flew to meet it. When the creature tried to shift direction, Elder Wei flicked her fingers, expertly anticipating the taotei’s intentions. The resounding crash sent the cauldron rebounding into the ground to plow a furrow in the earth. As for the taotei, its claws scrabbled on loose earth as it sought purchase.

  The remaining cultivators launched their attacks, concentrated chi striking the monster’s body. Fire burned, ice froze, air pierced, earth and metal pinned and sought vitals. The monster shook its head, the weak attacks doing little but annoying it. It bound forward to be met by spear, staff, and sword, the cultivators fighting to keep the monster at bay.

  And Wu Ying sneaked closer, seeking the perfect strike.

  “Hold the line,” Elder Wei snapped as she saw another cultivator bashed aside.

  The cultivator landed awkwardly, his femur cracking with a snap. The Elder jerked her fingers upward, the cauldron flying into the sky then crashing down on the taotei’s forehead.

  “Now!” Wu Ying shouted, too excited to stay silent. He drew his jian as he dashed forward, covering the last few meters as he pulled on the chi in the bracer. His eyes locked on the open wound created by Li Yao as the taotei stilled.

  The Sword’s Truth.

  Wu Ying felt his lips peel back in a wolfish grin as his sword, glowing with contained power, neared the taotei’s body and the open wound. He saw the opening, the gap. And then it disappeared as a fang-filled maw filled his gaze.

  “No!” Wu Ying snarled.

  Instinct had Wu Ying release the built-up chi attack. The beam of metal-aspected chi punched into the softer flesh of the demon’s mouth, making it snap it shut. The motion shattered Wu Ying’s sword as it was caught within, forcing Wu Ying to slam into the now-closed mouth. As he fell onto the ground, Wu Ying let out a low groan.

  “Wu Ying!” Tou He shouted as he rushed to aid his friend.

  The taotei lowered its head again, intent on consuming the audacious fly that had attacked it. Wu Ying surged upward, instinct driving his next attack. The First Fist—a single, focused punch that put the entirety of Wu Ying’s body behind it. All the rage, all the anger, all his intent. Focused into a single spot, down through two knuckles.

  The punch caught the edge of the taotei’s gumline, hitting both teeth and gums, throwing Wu Ying back as he skidded across churned earth. Feet that barely escaped the closing jaws were torn apart as razor-sharp teeth tore at his shins and the tops of his feet. As Wu Ying slid to a stop, a hand grabbed his collar and hauled him back.

  “Thanks!” Wu Ying said as he staggered to his bloody feet.

  Robbed of its prey, the taotei moved to chase but was blocked by a spinning, bisected staff. Liu Tsong’s metal-aspected attack struck from strange angles, driving the monster back as Liu Tsong invested her staff with her chi. For a few moments, the creature retreated under her sudden onslaught.

  Then the dented pill cauldron fell on it again. The taotei dodged the clumsy attack, managing to get most of its body away. As the taotei regained its balance, Elder Wei coughed, blood dotting her lips as the exertion from the numerous attacks rebounded.

  “How much longer?” Tou He asked as he leaned against his borrowed staff. The cultivator was too pale, and Wu Ying could tell it was taking all his strength to stand.

  “I don’t know.” Wu Ying looked down, feeling earth under one foot, and realized he had lost one of his shoes. Wu Ying kicked off the other, wincing as the pain from his torn legs shot up his body. He shook it aside as he retrieved another sword. “Can you go on?”

  “Can you?”

  Wu Ying offered his friend a half-smile before he took off after the taotei. The battle between the remaining cultivators had already robbed them of the other two still-active cultivators. Only Liu Tsong and Elder Wei still stood, though Wu Ying saw the limping form of Senior Ge returning in the distance.

  Too long.

  Too late.

  As he ran, Wu Ying tried to gauge the monster. The wound in its mouth had already closed. The wound in its side released a trickle of blood when it moved. The other wounds, other than the concussion, were entirely superficial. At least f
our dead, many more injured and maybe dead. And together, they had managed to annoy the creature.

  A snap. A scream. Liu Tsong staggered back, her arm bleeding as she tore it from the creature’s mouth before it finished biting through. She fell backward, blood gushing from the mangled ruins of her left arm as she struck the acupoints leading to it, sealing her blood flow.

  The pill cauldron fell, but instead of hitting the monster, it fell upside down and landed on Liu Tsong, covering her. A moment later, the taotei rammed the cauldron, sending it and Liu Tsong spinning away. A cry behind Wu Ying spoke of Elder Wei’s injury, leaving Wu Ying and Tou He to stand before the monster.

  For a moment, left alone, the taotei looked from side to side as if it was confused. Provided no immediate threat, its basic instinct took over and the taotei turned toward the most delectable prize—the unmoving forms of the Elders. Wu Ying shifted his body, putting himself between the taotei and the Elders. Even as the group fought the monster, the concentration of chi among the cultivating Elders grew ever more intense.

  “Just a little more,” Wu Ying said. He was not sure to whom he was speaking. Perhaps he was trying to comfort himself.

  “I’ll stop it,” Tou He, by his side, announced. The ex-monk lowered his borrowed staff, tottering forward before firming his stance.

  Before Wu Ying could object, the taotei launched itself at them. Tou He jumped too, staff at first sliding through his front arm before he finished throwing his backhand forward, both arms exchanging places as the monk’s body stretched. It was a perfect motion, a perfect attack. It struck the jumping creature’s lower body and sent Tou He flying backward into the ground as his attack rebounded.

  The monster’s motion paused for a fraction of a second, giving Wu Ying time to focus his next attack. The second form of the Sword’s Truth, an attack that combined the Dragon’s Breath and the lunge. It was the same attack, the same motion physically. But unseen was the way Wu Ying channeled his chi. It flowed, just as he had done with the formation flags, out of his body, flooding the sword in his hand and combining with the metal chi in the bracer. It all concentrated, focused on the tip of his sword and held close by Wu Ying’s aura, which had extended itself to the sword.

  The attack transcended what a mere Body Cultivator could perform. It was meant for those in the Energy Storage stage. Understanding and wielding the deeper meaning of the weapon, combining it with the chi of his body, and sending it in a single, focused beam of energy.

  The attack ripped apart the air as it crossed the distance to the taotei and dug into its wounded side. The wound tore open, the beam of sword chi cutting through skin and muscles, tearing at veins and tendons. Then it petered out as Wu Ying and the bracer ran out of energy. The cultivator swayed even as the taotei, flinching in surprise, landed off-target.

  A knee gave way, then another, and Wu Ying caught himself on the ground with the tip of his sword. He braced himself against the weapon, raising his head with great effort to see the bleeding and angry monster stagger back to its feet.

  “Not enough,” Wu Ying said to himself dispiritedly. “Not strong enough.”

  The taotei shook itself as it turned to Wu Ying, fixing him with a malicious gaze. It roared at the insignificant insect who swayed from the rotting breath. Rather than die on his knees, Wu Ying attempted to stand, failing the first and second time before he managed to rise while leaning on his planted weapon.

  “Maybe I could make it choke on me?” Wu Ying said half-heartedly.

  He looked around. Chao Kun was still staggering over, already half-dead. Tou He lay on the ground, twitching as his body suffered from the attacks. The cauldron lay unmoving, Liu Tsong trapped within. Elder Wei coughed blood, her body and meridians damaged. All the other cultivators were down or, like Wu Ying, barely able to stand.

  Turning once more to the slavering monster that stalked forward with its ungainly, injured gait, Wu Ying dug deep, finding an ounce more of stubbornness, and drew his sword from the ground.

  Time to die.

  Chapter 23

  Time to die. Wu Ying felt the words resound in his mind as he stared at the demon as it jumped, its mouth open wide. Rows of razor-sharp fangs, a couple bent askew from Wu Ying’s punch, closed in on him. The cultivator raised his weapon, the blade of the jian at his eyes as he readied himself to use the Dragon Stretches in reverse. A reverse lunge, putting his jian down the monster’s throat. It was an attack he was unlikely to survive, but perhaps he could force it away. Hard to eat when you had a metal rod stuck down your throat.

  Time stretched, fractions of a second elongating into eternity as the creature flew closer. Eternity in a breath. Wu Ying found himself staring into the creature’s nostrils, spotting the black hairs within. Saliva fell, gravity taking forever to act as black blood sprayed behind. Time stretched, till it did not.

  Now.

  Wu Ying’s back leg extended, gravity dropping his body faster than any muscle could. Lead hand stretched forward to pierce the demon’s mouth. Stretched into the mouth, even as it closed.

  Then the body shifted. The mouth, which was meant to close around Wu Ying, moved aside, a ripple of flesh and teeth shoved aside as Wu Ying watched. Even if everything felt as if it was moving like molasses, Wu Ying had no time, no ability to shift the angle of his sword. He cursed mentally as he saw his final attack go awry.

  And then time sped up.

  The taotei, about to land and swallow him whole, was blown away. A golden body flashed by, following the fist that had struck the demon. Together, the two tumbled into the distance, kicking up dirt and destroying the precious kurinji bushes.

  Wu Ying, having exhausted his mind and energy with that last motion, collapsed. He lay there, too drained to move, as the sounds of battle resounded through the meadow. Having overdrawn his body and will, his consciousness faded for a few minutes.

  When he woke, Wu Ying found a sliver of energy had returned. He struggled to his knees and found a delicate helping hand pulling him the rest of the way up. Wu Ying looked at the hand to see the entire limb heavily bandaged in familiar green cloth.

  “We did it,” Wu Ying said after he caught his breath. He idly noted his bare feet had stopped bleeding, the torn flesh crusted over. The pain radiated, but it was no worse than the strain in his meridians.

  “We did,” Liu Tsong said, looking into the distance.

  Wu Ying followed her gaze to catch sight of the battle. A familiar dented and lopsided cauldron floated in the air, occasionally dipping down to strike at the lurching monster. Spikes of hardened earth and stone erupted from the ground, tearing into the demon’s body, while pits opened up beneath the monster, disrupting its balance. Disdaining such petty tactics, Elder Po stood in front of the demon spirit and lashed out with fist and feet, each blow so powerful it rippled outward and made loose earth dance.

  Seeing the battle well in hand, Wu Ying searched for Li Yao’s form. He frowned, not spotting it where it had fallen. He took a tottering step, only for Liu Tsong to catch his arm and turn Wu Ying. By the remnants of the cauldron fire, a makeshift first-aid station had been created. Ru Ping, Chao Kun, and a few less-injured cultivators worked on those still unconscious. Those included, to Wu Ying’s relief, both Tou He and Li Yao. As Liu Tsong had Wu Ying pointed in the right direction, she guided the exhausted cultivator over.

  “Should we not help them?” Wu Ying said, trying to turn his head back toward where the Elders fought.

  “Help them?” Liu Tsong said with a laugh in her voice. “How?”

  As if to punctuate her words, another concussive blast of air washed over the pair, making them stumble. A painful roar erupted from the beleaguered taotei before a hacking, liquidy cough followed.

  “Point taken. Were they always this strong?” Wu Ying said.

  The difference between Elder Po, Elder Li, and Elder Wei was even more marked. Elder Wei could only provide support at this moment, her wobbling cauldron dipping down to smash the taotei wh
en an opportune moment came up.

  “Elder Po is a semi-martial specialist. Much like you and Tou He,” Liu Tsong said. “Once they broke through to peak Core, my Master was bound to be left behind. She, like me, does not specialize in hitting people.”

  “And a single in-stage cultivation growth was this great?”

  “Of course. Each stage adds a new layer to a cultivator’s Core. Each layer in a cultivator’s Core protects their soul and reinforces their meridians, allowing one to increase the amount of chi they wield. As each layer goes on top of the next, each increase is bigger than the next.”

  “Right…” Wu Ying said. It was not as if he had not known that, in theory, but having it explained to him and seeing the effects were somewhat different.

  Strength.

  They had it. And he, still, did not. Wu Ying found he desperately wanted it. Not because he wanted to hurt someone, not because he had a contest to win or even to protect another. Wu Ying found himself desiring strength to have choice. More choices than the ones he had found himself faced with. Be eaten while facing the monster coming for you and your friends. Or run and be eaten anyway. Those were unpalatable choices.

  Strength. Strength meant choice.

  “Wu Ying?” Liu Tsong squeezed his arm, bringing his attention back to the present. “Did you realize something?”

  “Yes,” Wu Ying said.

  It was not enlightenment. He did not see a greater portion of the Dao. Or perhaps, he did, but it was insufficient. But it was a clarification, a resolution. It was not enough, Wu Ying knew, to resolve all of his concerns and thoughts on cultivation. Not enough to clarify his dao. But at least, Wu Ying realized, he wanted it. Not just cultivation for cultivation’s sake, but to gain. To gain… something. That something, Wu Ying knew, he had yet to find. Learning what it was was part of his journey, of finding his dao.