Silver Fox & The Western Hero: Warrior Redeemed: A LitRPG/Wuxian Novel - Book 5

by M. H. Johnson

  Though the Ruidian women had the look of traders or negotiators, perhaps the nobles of their respective clans, the Ruidian men were dressed as warriors or perhaps adventurers, wearing either shirts of fine steel mail or armor of treated spirit beast hide. None bothered with spears, all equipped with dao and buckler at their hips, and Alex guessed their main methods of attack involved the jewels on their foreheads.

  Despite his positive experience in Erjizhen, save at the very end, Alex still found himself reflexively looking away when the natives, or True Bloods, as they sometimes called themselves, caught his gaze. But the instant disdain he feared never crossed their noble Chinese features. A few even favored him with polite nods, though the better dressed ones looked past him as if he weren’t even there, which was to be expected, Alex supposed, looking like nothing more than an up and coming guard as he no doubt did.

  “Excuse me, I don’t suppose you can tell me where I can find the various trade caravans?” Alex asked out of embarrassment when one elegantly-dressed Ruidian woman caught his stare, boldly eyeing his figure and nodding as if in thoughtful approval. She was flanked by a pair of jeweled men wearing spirit beast hide lamellar who were gazing at Alex and the world around them with the bland neutrality of professional bodyguards. It was a look Alex recognized instantly, mirroring so well the men who had once striven to keep his own family safe, a lifetime ago.

  The woman elegantly waved one lacquered hand. “Just a bit further up the boulevard, you’ll find Sun’s, Kong’s, and Tang’s among many others, all on clear display.”

  Her gaze turned thoughtful, favoring Alex with a considering tilt of her head. “I do like the look of you, lad, and I can tell you’re new to town. Are you looking for work?”

  Alex, however, hadn’t heard a word after she so casually revealed the name of his most despised enemy. With a trade branch here, in Yizhen. Alex clenched his jaw, heart hammering with blackest fury.

  And with a single crack, the noble Ruidian’s eyes widened and she stepped back, the pair of bodyguards suddenly gazing at him with the cool regard of professionals measuring their chances against a potential threat.

  Alex winced, realizing he had just shattered the shaft of his spear with his 25 Strength.

  “Sorry, must be off, can’t be late!” he gushed, darting away from their measuring gazes as fast as he could, castigating himself for a fool.

  After going to all that effort to jog to the city carrying the bloody thing when he could have arrived far quicker racing at a weaponless sprint, and perhaps faster still, had he gotten rid of his gear, or at least his boots, and allowed himself to sink into his sense of the forest, springing from tree to tree like the fierce predator he had so happily been for the few brief weeks that had passed by all too quickly, before a woman’s desperate cry had brought him back to himself once more.

  Hao Kong.

  Just thinking of that bloated pestilent merchant that had schemed and connived to make Alex a slave and sell the girl who had thought of him as a father to a brothel filled Alex with darkest fury. A merchant Alex had danced with in battle more than once, though the infernal merchant had gotten the last laugh, brought back to undeath through the vindictive spite of gods before then butchering Alex’s Ruidian friends before his eyes.

  And there hadn’t been a single damn thing Alex could do when the gods put triple Calamity cards in play, so desperate they were to kill him. Miraculously, Alex had managed to survive even that trap, after leading one Calamity to another.

  Yet, as always, the slimy Hao Kong had slipped free.

  And here was his caravan, Alex thought, the crackle of splintering wood loud enough to earn him more than a few odd glances as he crushed his now-worthless spear staff between his hands, glaring like death at the near-abandoned wagon staging area.

  He had quickly made his way past a number of caravan stations, including a modest-sized Tang and a far grander-looking Sun, the latter especially having drawn in any number of farmers looking to sell their grain and produce, as well as a number of men of both Ruidian and native stock, including a few Alex quickly sensed were cultivators, all of them looking to hire on.

  But Alex hadn’t spared those staging areas more than a passing glance, his feet leading him almost to the other end of the fortified town, a desolate little black flag with a sigil Alex recognized from Hao Kong’s wagon making it clear he was at the right place. And though there was a small building dwarfed by its abandoned staging area, the place was desolate, not a soul to be seen.

  Had the Ruidian noble not said the name by chance, perhaps it having come to mind simply because it was such a contrast to the others, Alex would have never thought to look this way twice.

  As it was... a moment’s concentration as he struggled to rein in his hot rage, to see this for the reconnaissance stage of things that it was. Somewhat similar to how he always tried to get a sense of his foe’s strengths and take their measure via Soul Sight and Find Weakness before taking the offensive. Sometimes, anyway.

  And with just a moment’s calm, he was all but flooded with the plethora of information Qi Perception revealed, sensing the movements of numerous people within his sixty-foot radius, knowing it would be much denser in the more populous areas of town, away from this abandoned staging area. But enough people were looking his way, easily sensed when he focused just on the presences that were nearest to him, that he knew his best course of action was to just turn around and walk on, discreetly dispose of his shattered spear the moment he was out of anyone’s line of sight, and see about hiring on with one of the active caravan consortiums.

  So he did just that, promising himself he’d investigate Hao Kong’s operation later. But first, to get something a bit more suitable to his strength and style of fighting than what had been a rather a thin-shafted spear.

  “How may this one assist you, honored cultivators?” asked the man behind the counter of an impressively outfitted weapons shop, boasting a wide selection of polearm heads on display, fastened to the burnished walls much like rifles on display in stores a world away might have been. The display included spearheads, glaive-like reclining moon blade heads, naginata heads, and single and double crescent bladed versions of the ji Alex favored.

  Alex blinked, realizing that he had been staring at the impressive display for some moments, particularly noteworthy for the heads being completely separated from the shafts. Dozens of poles of varying types of wood and thickness were on display in another section of the store, with small signs denoting prices before the various offerings.

  The shopkeeper himself sported a thin goatee and a friendly smile, with the broad shoulders of a smith and the eyes of shrewd merchant, for all that he wore the elegantly embroidered robe of a well-to-do business owner.

  Alex looked up, feeling slightly flustered, this being his first time in a proper weapon shop, and he found the assembly element to the polearms to be nothing short of fascinating, his ears picking up on the steady rhythm of a blacksmith’s hammer coming from what must be the back courtyard of the pagoda this shop resided in.

  “I’m looking for a pair of long-bladed staves,” said a shaven-headed man with a powerful build wearing a sleeveless shirt, sash, and loose baggy pants with leather sandals strapped to his feet. Alex blinked, taken aback by the look, but there could be no doubt that the man was a cultivator, Alex’s Qi Perception automatically sensing the weight of his presence.

  What surprised Alex was how the shopkeeper, who had not been gazing at Alex after all, had instantly sensed it.

  Or perhaps it was the young man and woman, both looking to be around Alex’s age, wearing the robes and expressions of diligent young cultivators behind him.

  Alex blinked, only now taking their presence in, having been so focused on the beautiful display of fangtian ji heads and the silken feel and surprising weight difference of the various shafts that he hadn’t even bothered keeping track of all the people around him, which had been a bit foolish, he had to admit.


  He centered himself, noting at least one other browser in the back corner of the shop where Alex had noted a number of well-polished jian and dao were being kept, more than enough selection to keep both those who favored the light fencing straight sword or the more saber-like blade suited to the frenzy of battle happy.

  Of course Alex had immediately drifted to the front of the store, excited by the prospect of securing himself a quality fangtian ji. So reminiscent of a European halberd yet perhaps even deadlier, with its crescent axe blades and razor-sharp spearhead, it was definitely his weapon of choice, in addition to his fists and shins.

  “Of course, sir. Are you looking more for straight sword-staffs, ko-naginatas, or great dao?”

  Alex peered curiously at the second display of weapon heads the cultivator and merchant began browsing that included a number of long, straight spear heads with reinforced blades, lighter naginata heads which were slightly curved and edged on one side, and spear heads that did indeed look like the top two thirds of the dao that the weapon head was obviously named for.

  Not for the first time, gazing at a weapon selection incorporating familiar elements of Chinese, Japanese, and Middle Eastern design, Alex was reminded that this wondrous world was its own unique mélange of cultures and peoples. And for all that so many of them looked Han Chinese, and Ruidians, with their brilliant green or blue eyes and bright blond or fiery red hair, reminded him so much of his Scandinavian friends back home, these were, in fact, entirely different people and cultures, with literally a universe separating them from the cultures and history of the world Alex had once called home.

  “Sword staff would be best. With quality steel, mind you. We desire blades deadly in the thrust but capable of slashing. Lighter is better for my disciples, and do you have skywood shafts?”

  The merchant beamed a smile. “We do indeed, sir. And since your emphasis is on the lightest and strongest of all woods, may I recommend these blades over here? You’ll note they are a bit lighter than your earlier choice, but they are nimble and quick, and will work extremely well with your chosen shafts.”

  The pair of young cultivators frowned, exchanging glances. “Those are naginata heads, not proper sword staffs,” said the girl.

  The powerfully-built cultivator who looked anything but, just smirked “Lesser Boar style will work just fine with a ko-naginata, Fangsu. And this art is as much about finesse and control as it is power. I would see you master both.”

  The girl paled and stiffened, immediately flowing into a bow. “It is as you say, master.”

  The youth by her side, looking so young and inexperienced, just nodded along with her.

  Alex blinked, feeling a strange chill.

  He had written the young man off as a clueless kid, and he was no younger than Alex.

  What a difference a year constantly fighting for one’s life makes.

  In short order, Alex saw the merchant and cultivators nodding heads on staff and blade head choices before the owner invited them into the back courtyard where Alex could sense with his Qi Perception that the pair of young disciples were going through basic forms very much like Golden Realms with their polearms, both of them remarking on how nimble and quick the weapons felt in their hands.

  It was a beaming pair of youths, happily holding their six and a half foot long naginatas, that came in, quickly followed by a widely-grinning merchant and a scowling cultivator.

  “You would charge me six silver for the wooden shafts and another six for the naginata heads? I can get a spear or dagger-axe head for a single silver, and half the blacksmiths will throw in the shaft for free!”

  The merchant flashed a placating smile, but his eyes were hard as agate. “And you would have exactly what you paid for. A cheap, cast iron spearhead that might survive the first encounter against unarmored ruffians just fine before the tip snaps when an actual worthy fighter is found, hindered by heavy sluggish wood with no spring and of such poor quality that it snaps when parrying its first cut from a dao.”

  The pair of youths quieted, looking nervously at their master.

  “Whereas this wood, honored cultivator, is not only the lightest of all quality woods, it is as strong as hardened oak, and as responsive as a dream. There is a reason why all cultivators who choose finesse over a bull’s brute strength choose skywood over all others, as I’m sure you know already, master cultivator.” The merchant sighed theatrically. “And of course my suppliers know this as well, so they charge me outrageous sums and I must charge in kind, just so I don’t take a loss. And what kind of awful purveyor of armaments for the discerning guard or cultivator would I be, if I did not make available the absolute best quality weaponry? For as dear as the weapon shafts are, your disciples’ lives are even dearer, so I would not dream of recommending anything less than the best.”

  “He makes a good point,” whispered the boy.

  “Shut up, Tung. He’s singing a merchant’s tune, and our master’s not made of money!” hissed the girl, glaring at her now sheepish-looking fellow disciple. “And the staves we train with every day are made out of wood that cost master a copper! Not that I don’t love this beauty in my hand,” she said with a sigh, gazing at her weapon like a girl’s first crush.

  Tung smiled. “It is a beautiful weapon, Fangsu. It suits your style perfectly.”

  The girl flashed an impish grin. “I know! It truly is perfect.” Then she flushed at the way the merchant smiled and her master frowned at her words.

  “Eight silvers for both,” the man said.

  The merchant’s eye widened in shock. “But you already understand the burden I bear, just supplying the wood. You can’t even fathom the difficulties I had, acquiring steel so fine as those naginata heads...”

  Alex couldn’t help smiling as the merchant and cultivator went back and forth, finally settling on ten silver and a handful of copper, and the way the cultivator scowled while the merchant and his students positively beamed made it clear who had gotten the upper hand.

  The cultivator knew it too, but had the grace to smirk at his own thinning purse. “I don’t suppose you could at least tell me an honest armorer who won’t charge me a fortune to kit these two up properly? Seeing as how you’ve claimed more than I thought I’d be spending in one go.”

  The merchant chuckled good-naturedly. “If you’re looking for quilted gambesons or silken ware, Shu-Sai’s the merchant for you. If you’re planning on kitting your wards up in bronze lamellar that would do our standard-bearer’s proud, you want Jin Jin’s shop. If you’re looking for steel, I’m afraid that will cost good gold, wherever you go.”

  The man nodded, dark brown eyes catching Alex’s wandering gaze. “Very well then, merchant. And I believe you have another customer who has been waiting patiently for us to conclude our business. Or, should I say, you fleecing me.”

  The merchant laughed politely at the jest. Alex was almost certain the man heard it all the time, though the girl frowned. “Master Yan, that’s a Ruidian. What’s he doing in a shop like this?”

  Her mentor shrugged. “I’m curious myself,” he said, now watching Alex with the same bemused interest as his students.

  Alex couldn’t help wincing under their unabashed regard, but considering that he had been quite content to overhear their proceedings with the same vicarious interest with which he had once watched television, he really wasn’t in any position to judge. He was just grateful they seemed curious, not hostile. And for all that decorum and respect were extremely important in this world, people-watching seemed to be very much an accepted norm, probably because of the absolute lack of any electronic entertainment. Not that they had ever heard of such, but still.

  Random thoughts he quickly dispelled as the merchant turned his way.

  “Greetings, young sir. How may humble merchant Chen help you this fine day?”

  Alex smiled. “I was just browsing some of your ji heads. A couple caught my eye.”

  He then pointed to several of the double
crescent bladed fangtian ji heads, intrigued both by the ones that looked to be made of high-quality sword steel, as well as by the larger ji heads that seemed to be made of a combination of softer iron and rigid steel along the edges.

  The merchant beamed a wide smile that didn’t quite reach his calculating eyes. “You certainly have exquisite taste, young master...”

  “Alex.”

  “Alex. Though these are of exquisite quality steel, I assure you, designed for the most exact specifications, the crescent blades more than capable of splitting bronze armor without dulling their edge, even steel armor, in the right circumstances, there is a cost for such rigidity and durability. I fear these weapon heads might be a bit heavier than what you’re expecting. Now if you will permit me to show you several lighter fangtian ji heads over here, you might find them far more to your liking. And I assume you will also wish to secure it to a skywood staff with a quality bronze butt spike?”

  Alex grinned. “The end spike sounds good, as long as it’s not so narrow as to interfere with any of my swings. As far as skywood goes...” He turned to smile at the surprised-looking cultivators. “I’m looking for your sturdiest wood. Not your lightest. And I’m not looking for the head you think will be easiest to maneuver, but the head that, just like you said, will cleave through bronze without a scratch in the hands of a competent user.”

  Fangsu’s eyes widened. “That boy’s insane! He won’t even be able to lift that thing!”

  Tung gave a sad shake of his head. “Listened to too many tales. Dreaming a cultivator’s dreams when he should be dreaming about, well, whatever it is his kind dreams about. Do Ruidian’s dream like we do, Master Yan?”

  Master Yan chuckled. “Your heritage is showing, disciple. My guess is they dream the same as everyone else, and aren’t as different from us as all that.”