Chapter Two: Assistance

Two freight carts sped along the official road, one following closely behind the other. Atop each cart rested a redwood coffin, about four feet in length, rocking with the jolts and bumps of the journey. The two carters seemed utterly unconcerned by the coffins’ rough ride, their feet skimming the earth in light, dragonfly-like steps. Flanking each cart, two men in mourning garb, their strides swift and powerful, kept pace with the vehicles.

“Wanchuan, faster! We must make it back before nightfall!” The carter in the rear shouted ahead.

“I know!” Wanchuan, gripping the cart handle, veins bulging on his hands, gave a powerful pull, surging forward with renewed vigor.

Bang!

The sudden burst of speed sent the cart lurching violently over a large stone. Though Wanchuan’s firm grip kept the cart from toppling, the coffin atop was jarred loose and tumbled to the ground. Its lid, never tightly sealed, flew off upon impact. From within rolled a child, hands bound behind his back with rope. The boy bore no visible wounds, his clothes were intact, a wad of cloth stuffed into his mouth, his eyes tightly shut.

“A child?” On a distant tree, Lei Yan frowned. At his side, Qingling, hearing the commotion, turned her gaze toward the road.

Rustle… rustle…

At that moment, two warriors who had been lying in wait in the grass leaped out to block the road. The older of the two barked an order, “Batu, handle Wanchuan. The rest leave to me!”

Batu nodded, slammed his foot into the ground, sending dust billowing up, and used the rebound to launch himself into the air. With a midair flip, his broadsword gleamed as he slashed toward Wanchuan.

“You two think you can stop us?” Wanchuan sneered, sidestepping Batu’s attack with ease.

Thunk!

Batu’s blade chopped into the cart handle. He’d never expected to land a blow on Wanchuan and instantly pulled back, reversing his grip for another swift strike.

Clang!

Wanchuan snatched up a black spear from the side, kicked the shaft with his right foot, caught it with his left hand, and gripped the tip with his right. With a simple thrust, he blocked Batu’s attack. Then, with a flick of his wrists, the spear’s tip darted forward like a white snake striking for Batu’s throat.

“Hah!” Batu grunted, switching to a two-handed grip and bringing his blade down in a ferocious vertical chop. A crescent arc of energy burst from his sword, hissing through the air with a sound that seemed to tear the sky.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Three white arcs flashed. Wanchuan’s spear was wrenched from his grip and flung aside, while a blade traced a bloody line across his chest. Blood welled instantly from the wound.

“What a ruthless blade!” Wanchuan stared at his chest, shaken; had Batu truly meant to kill, that blow would have ended him.

“A blade filled with killer instinct, yet it does not kill—what a waste,” Lei Yan sighed from the tree. He had watched Batu’s three strikes with clear eyes: simple moves, executed with lightning speed. Most impressive was the murderous intent that suffused his technique, yet Batu’s lingering compassion rendered his blade spirit incomplete. Should that compassion ever fade, he would become a truly fearsome warrior.

Batu paid Wanchuan no further heed, striding over to the child who had fallen to the ground. He flicked his sword to cut the ropes binding the boy, then quickly checked for breath. “Father, Tian’er is unharmed!”

“Old Man Wan, put the child down!” the older warrior called to the rear carter upon hearing Batu’s words.

“Don’t even think about it, Bata!” Old Man Wan retorted. “Unless we all die here, those two children are coming with us.” He then barked at the men in mourning, “What are you all waiting for? If we’re not back by nightfall, we’ll be in trouble!”

The four warriors immediately surrounded Bata, while Wanchuan, ignoring Batu who clutched the child, made his way toward Old Man Wan.

From the nearby tree, Qingling’s anger blazed as she saw the group kidnapping children below. She and her master Jinghui had always shown no mercy to such villains. Even though her true energy was depleted, her hatred for such actions was undiminished. With a flick of her sleeve, she prepared to leap down and intervene.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Lei Yan stopped her.

“I’m nothing like you, so cold-hearted! That’s a child!” Qingling glared at Lei Yan.

He gestured below. “Don’t rush. They don’t need our help yet, do they?”

“You can wait if you like. I won’t!” Without another word, she jumped down from the tree, heedless of his objections—fortunately, it wasn’t a high drop, or she might have lamed herself.

Ah, this woman’s compassion knows no bounds, Lei Yan sighed helplessly, then followed her down from the tree.

Landing, Lei Yan caught Qingling and drew her behind him. He advanced with a smile, saying, “Forgive the intrusion, gentlemen, but I simply can’t stand by any longer.”

Old Man Wan and the others turned as one to the sudden newcomer. Years of wandering the martial world had honed Old Man Wan’s instincts, and from Lei Yan’s steps, his breathing, and the subtle flow of inner energy, he instantly recognized this youth was no ordinary man. He cupped his hands and said, “Young sir, this is a matter between us and Bal Village. I must ask you not to interfere.”

“It’s you two?” Bata now saw clearly that the newcomers were the same pair he’d seen earlier.

“A village dispute?” Lei Yan frowned, not out of fear, but because feuds between villages were never simple or quickly resolved.

Old Man Wan grew anxious as he saw Lei Yan lost in thought—any further delay, and they’d never make it back before nightfall. With a glance, he signaled his men to attack.

The two men in mourning charged Lei Yan, who responded with a strange, cold smile. In the martial world, even among those of equal cultivation, the gap in true strength could be vast. Lei Yan had once been able to defeat innate warriors with brute force alone; now, with inner energy, these postnatal warriors were beneath his notice. He dashed forward, fists like thunder, slicing through the air as he struck.

In a single exchange, the two warriors collapsed to the ground, convulsing, blood spilling from their mouths.

“An innate warrior?” Old Man Wan was aghast. Only an innate warrior could dispatch postnatal fighters so effortlessly—or so he believed.

“Run!”

With a low shout, Old Man Wan bolted. Against someone who could kill his men so easily, even risking his life would be futile. The remaining three wasted no time, fleeing after him.

Lei Yan made no move to pursue. Instead, he flicked a few strands of medicinal powder at them with his inner force. The fleeing men noticed nothing amiss and, in the blink of an eye, had vanished from sight.