Silver Fox & The Western Hero: Warrior Reforged: A LitRPG/Wuxia Novel - Book 2

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Silver Fox & The Western Hero: Warrior Reforged: A LitRPG/Wuxia Novel - Book 2 Page 1

by M. H. Johnson




  Silver Fox & The Western Hero

  Warrior Reforged

  M H Johnson

  Copyright © 2020 by M H Johnson

  Cover art by Andrey Vasilchenko

  Typography by Bonnie L. Price

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and events are the work of the author’s imagination and all locations are either fictitious or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons or events is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Character Sheet

  Thank You

  Additional Links

  1

  “Get up, slave.”

  Alex groaned, his exhausted body prodded to wakefulness by a surge of sudden heat through the enchanted collar now around his neck. He jolted off his back, stumbling upright and shivering in the cool pre-dawn air, wearing little more than scraps of burlap. He gazed longingly at the pile of tanned beast hides he had been sleeping on. Though the hides themselves were thick, stiff, and crudely treated, the fur sides had been luxuriously soft and warm. It was obvious his new masters had plenty to spare, if they were going to allow a slave to make use of them.

  “Role up those hides. Tightly, fool! Don’t think sleeping in them means we won’t make you suffer if you dare to disobey.”

  Alex said nothing as Zeng Zeng, an overweight thug, sneered and spat. The slaver's lamellar armor and dented bronze helm looked like old, poorly maintained versions of Liu Jian’s own.

  Liu Jian. Alex shook his head at the thought of his former master, who had once seemed little more than a good-natured alchemist with some military training. Yet his innocuous mask had been torn away completely when their gazes had last met, his mentor radiating such deadly poison-green Qi before ordering Alex to race to the very heart of a compound full of diabolists and demon-worshipers, both of them risking their lives in a desperate bid to rescue the captives trapped inside.

  And what happened after that was still a blur.

  He remembered his heart racing, desperately darting around corridors, using his beloved ji, a halberd-like weapon with crescent blades designed to trap enemy weapons or cleave through flesh and bone, and a razor-sharp spearhead capable of plunging effortlessly through even thick spirit beast hide.

  And the things he remembered doing with that weapon.

  A scream, the memory of hot blood splashing across his face…

  Alex groaned, collapsing as a boot slammed into the back of his knee.

  “Faster, slave. We haven’t got all day!”

  Alex forced a nod, leg hurting for only a moment, now back on his feet and away from the pile of leaves his bedding had been laid upon, next to an old fire long since put out. A handful of footsteps later, and he was before the great wagon they were using for transport along the Trade Road, the road between the massive walled city-states that dotted what were otherwise almost completely untamed wildlands. The one he had lived in for a time, Yidushi, was home to over ten million inhabitants and had been the only major city within a thousand miles in all directions.

  Though the endless primeval forests held countless walled villages, towns, and farming communities that Alex understood produced bumper crops undreamed of back on Earth, thanks to the incredible infusion of Heaven and Earth spiritual energy from the glorious sun shining above and the rich loamy earth below, respectively, those outposts of civilization were fortified for a reason. The forests and fields were flooded with countless spirit beasts that also fed on the Qi all around, growing strong and potent in ways unimaginable for animals back on Earth, especially if they stumbled upon patches of sacred herbs that grew with increasing frequency where humans were rarely seen.

  Of course, the farther one got from civilization the richer the potential prizes, and the deadlier the monsters one would face when attempting to harvest them.

  Still, traveling along the Trade Road, which Alex understood was patrolled regularly by Royal Armsmen, was the safest possible route between cities, save for the glowing stream of light he could just barely make out above his head. The High Road, which only those blessed with the ability to cultivate could possibly make use of, and only if they were at least a basic cultivator with three or more meridian gates successfully opened.

  Perhaps one in fifty people could accomplish that feat in their lifetimes.

  And Alex had, somehow, miraculously found himself among their number.

  But only after months of hard work and effort, learning how to cultivate his Qi, making use of sacred manuals his mysterious patron had given him, mastering what he could of those sacred texts, before giving those divine prizes to someone who needed them far more than he.

  Liu Li.

  Just thinking of her brought to mind both her fierce temperament and the beautiful smile she sometimes flashed, just for him. The mischievous twinkle behind her almond eyes, such a rich vibrant shade of silver and jade-green that they sparkled like living jewels. Not like the dark black or amber eyes that seemed the norm in this land.

  Though they had mirrored his patron’s perfectly.

  WiFu, once a fox-eared inspector who had been quite the character a thousand years ago, an odd mix of mischief-making deity and honored inspector who was somehow also a giant silver fox. A god of mischief, strife, and life-saving change. A god of chaos and transformation. Alex knew that he represented the dark side of Qi that everyone else thought of as waste that must be expelled. A poison. A corruption.

  Chaotic and deadly as it was, it was also the catalyst for change, that which allowed entropy to move forward. That which allowed time to exist at all. Whether it be decrepitude, decay and death, or the fluid dance of a warrior upon the battlefield, adroitly dodging death and delivering the same with movements so fast few could follow, it was all thanks to Dark Qi.

  Without it, any cultivator could achieve perfection, indestructibility, and timeless perfection.

  And they would be no more animate than a statue of stone.

  Light Qi and Dark Qi. Yin and Yang. Both opposing yet also conjoined in all things. Without Light Qi there would only be chaos and destruction. Without Dark Qi there would only be lifeless, rigid perfection. The true cultivator would master both, or he was hardly a cultivator at all.

  Or such was the underlying premise of his patron god’s
teachings, whether it was memory, vision, or the few times he had encountered his deity while teleporting inside his storage ring, a divine treasure in its own right, he did not know. All living creatures needed both types of Qi flowing through their bodies, and for all that cultivators could extend their lives by expelling the excess they thought of as impurities while they refined whatever Light Qi they most had an affinity for, even they needed trace amounts of Dark Qi to sustain their own metabolic processes, whether they knew it or not.

  Alex spared a single glance for the nondescript little piece of twined copper that graced his left pinky. It couldn’t look more unremarkable. So worthless that even his new masters saw fit to ignore it.

  But within it was storage capacity without limit.

  And as he had found last night, much to his dismay, it was now closed off to him.

  Once it had held an alchemy lab and a garden so vast it had almost been a small forest full of magnificent apple trees and priceless herbs that would allow him to make an endless variety of cultivation elixirs. And all of it had flourished under a brilliant Qi sun comprised of glowing Silverbell blossoms feeding upon the spinning orb of Dark Qi he had stored within it, after separating his Qi using his Dual Path cultivation technique.

  It was only thanks to this artifact that he could use his divine cultivation technique at all, as it was able to store his separated Qi, which would be vital when he eventually ascended to Bronze upon the path he had chosen.

  But now his vast treasure-room and glorious garden were no more. Consumed in a flash, along with every treasure he had stored and the massive surge of Qi he had unleashed, straining his entire meridian matrix as he forced open his sixth gateway in an abrupt flash that had catalyzed the conversion of everything he had ever possessed, including himself, into pure Wu Wei.

  All to rupture a gate leading straight to Hell.

  He stumbled at the thought, though he quickly righted himself, fearing the blow of cruel boots or surges of burning heat. His own fur-lined boots were surprisingly comfortable, despite having been tossed to him as if they were little more than garbage, and he found the smooth hardened surface of the road so much easier to walk along than the thick lush undergrowth all around.

  The entire forest smelled of rich earthy loam, evergreens, and countless wildflowers perfuming the air, in addition to the sharp tangy scent of cooking meat.

  He blinked before a surly-looking man dressed in animal skins who thrust a wooden bowl filled with gamy meat and broth into his hands that smelled like heaven.

  Alex looked down at his body, thinner than he remembered it, and feared he was starving.

  Though how he was even alive after what had happened was a question he couldn’t really answer. Those memories were the spottiest of all.

  He remembered the panicked gaze of a girl whose eyes flashed the same brilliant jade-green as Liu Li’s. The desperate plea in her heart for a champion. How she had screamed in terror when that hellish hand had gripped her, attempting to drag her into the Abyss forever more.

  A fate worse than death for an innocent girl, at the hands of monsters who delighted in torment and butchery, who worshipped Hell itself.

  And Alex had been all too happy to send those diabolists and infernal cultivators back to Purgatory before confronting the horrific devil of crackling skin and eyes that blazed with all the fires of Hell on the other side of that gate, the abomination glaring at Alex against a backdrop of endless stormy skies lit by lightning.

  Alex could recall himself roaring his defiance, actually daring to jump through.

  But as to what happened afterwards? That was a blur.

  And somehow he was here, shivering in the morning cold, desperately devouring the stew in his bowl, knowing without even having to pull up the strange interface he could summon with a thought in his mind’s eye that his storage ring’s prizes had been replaced by barren caverns scoured free of all their treasures, and even access to his divine storage ring was now barred to him. He was grateful beyond words that his meridian channels seemed to be intact, for all that he had feared utterly destroying himself after searing open his sixth gate with an inconceivably potent surge of Qi, followed by an explosion that should have seen him utterly immolated. But somehow, he was here, alive and mostly whole, his meridian gateways intact. Yet that hardly mattered, considering his current situation.

  He couldn’t hide, he had no access to any resources, and were he to dare use any of his abilities, a single surge of heat would blast from the cultivating wizard responsible for the slave collar he now wore, and he’d be screaming in agony.

  Yet when he finished his bowl of soup, he was surprised to find another thrust in his hands.

  He blinked, looking up at the surly slave scowling back at him.

  “Eat, fool. We have more spirit meat than they know what to do with, and if you have any kind of head on your shoulders, you can guess why. You best get as strong as you can, boy, because you’ll be fighting by our side soon enough, and if you want to live to see the morrow, you’d better be worth your keep.”

  Alex blinked, then nodded. “Thank you,” he said.

  The man snorted. “The Ruidian actually speaks. Remarkable. You know how to use a spear, boy?”

  “Yes, my previous master also made me hunt at his side,” Alex said, thinking on his feet.

  “Good. Then maybe you’ll survive ‘til we actually get to Yidushi.” He frowned, gazing at Alex. “Best be careful, boy. You’re a bit prettier than is good for you.”

  Alex blinked at that.

  The man scowled, scratching his beard. “Pleasure houses, boy. Don’t you know anything? Many a noble likes a young buck at his peak, as well he does a pretty doe. Our masters just might sell you to a madam, like they will the girls, unless you can prove your worth as a hunter.”

  Alex dipped his head. “Thank you for the advice, and the food.”

  The fur-covered slave snorted. “It’s just common sense. Our masters expect me to make sure you know the basics, yes? You’re willing to eat. You’re not starving yourself in despair like a fool. That’s a start. Now here. Put these on, over your rags.”

  Alex noted what looked like a near full set of rawhide armor. The stitches were crude, but Alex had enjoyed studying ancient warfare back when he had been a high school student, in a life countless centuries ago. He knew rawhide boiled in glue was incredibly tough, and could actually be molded like warm plastic before hardening into a given shape, much like the gear he was donning, lined with soft fur, like his sleeping furs had been.

  He was more than a little surprised to find armor of this quality being given to a slave. Then his eyes widened when he saw the crudely stitched rent in the armor, where Alex’s own abdomen would be.

  “That’s right.” The slave helping him chuckled coldly. “The former owner managed to get gutted by a massive spirit boar. His death was neither quick nor easy, and the masters made us watch him expire, so we all knew the price of failure, of losing attention for even a second.”

  Alex paled, nodding his head. “Keep our spears braced and pointed low. Got it.”

  The man snorted. “Good. You’re not a complete idiot. Now abase yourself, the masters are coming!”

  Immediately all the slaves fell to their knees, lowering their heads to the ground, hands outstretched on either side. Alex gritted his teeth with an expression he was thankful no one could see, quickly mirroring the posture.

  “Alright, slaves,” said the giant man with the glaring eyes and a scar running across his face that Alex recognized from the other day. The leader of this band of slavers and cargo had never bothered giving a name, so Alex simply thought of him as Scar. “We’re making ten miles at least today, before you can even think about setting up camp. You march with a spritely step? You’ll earn your full portion of grub. You dawdle and slow us down? You’ll scream for it. Are we clear?”

  There were a dozen desultory nods from the well-built men wearing collars just like Alex wa
s, most wearing raggedly-stitched assortments of boiled rawhide armaments and fur nearly identical to his own.

  “Good. Now lace your boots tightly after checking for stones. Any one of you fools turn up lame, you’ll be damn sorry for it.”

  Scar then left, and Alex took the man at his word, carefully checking his fur-lined boots and finding them free of stone, burr, and irritant. They were surprisingly comfortable for a pair of boots he had never worn before. Laces tight, he stood up as the caravan continued its journey along the wide road of earth so hard-packed it was almost stone, making their way on the leftmost side so they could proceed under the shade of the great trees arching overhead, Alex doing his best not to flinch every time he heard quiet sobs from one of the three wagons where the slavers kept the rest of their victims.

  And once Alex had gotten used to the pace and rhythm of their little caravan, all of them marching single file with Master Tang Dan, the mage who had collared them, glaring back at them from his seat upon the last wagon, Alex forced himself to face what he had been putting off since he had first woken up to the kicks of his captors.

  _________________________________________

  Alex Hammer

  Class – Cultivator: Disciple of the Dual Path (Unlimited potential. This is a Divine path.)

  Rank 6 Basic Cultivation Achieved

  Physical Characteristics

  Strength 15 (Exceeds 95% of Population)

  Vitality 15 (Exceeds 95% of Population)

 

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