Elder Bin Wei, veteran of almost a hundred sect wars, who has lived to see more than a thousand years and wields in his primal soul the divine spark of his own reality, doesn't know what to make of this.

At first glance, the story offered to him seems reasonable, carrying the signifiers of a truthful accounting. At second glance, that impression seems to fall apart. The first alarm brought forth an outer disciple who had taken on the task of guarding some of the sect's fields for contribution points, and, by all accounts, he responded quickly and accurately, arriving on a sect-provided flying sword within minutes of the first alarm. Normally, this would net him a slight commendation for a prompt response.

Except then, apparently, he lost the blade. More specifically, he had the blade taken from him, by an opponent that he woefully underestimated, who then… demanded that he call for reinforcements.

Were this a beast, perhaps, perhaps it might be understood that it wanted further prey, but rarely do such creatures exhibit such a clear willingness to create ambushes on unknown terrain. Instead of an ambush, however, the invader apparently waited, without harming the outer sect disciple, without making any demands, until the reinforcements arrived, responding at a pace that Bin Wei feels was inadequate and brought shame to all of them. They took several minutes to arrive to an emergency summons- had it been as simple a case of overreaction as they assumed, there would be no issue, but the line between common sense and foolishness is decided by circumstance, and, at times, the Will of the Heavens.

On arrival, according to them, they were confronted by a member of the Tribes, or perhaps a Beast in humanoid form. According to the four disciples, one an inner sect disciple, the invader exuded no Qi, wielded no visible Dao, but had a presence that made clear its harmful intent and violent affinity. That last part had sounded like the sort of rote exaggeration that the young and foolish use when they make a mistake, but where the excuse was made implied otherwise.

In all his years alive, Elder Bin Wei of the Watchful Fields sect has never seen Killing Intent like that. Normally, Killing Intent is imbued into one's cultivation, and variations on it are how most of the bloodthirsty wilderness of the world beyond Morae communicate. It's an expression of willpower and intention that is spoken into the world through Qi and one's cultivation techniques, imbuing them with added lethality. In theory, Killing Intent can be used by even mortals, but without Qi, it should be a small thing, barely notable.

There is not a drop of displaced Qi in the dead zone that he was summoned to. No technique was used, no formation or spell or attack- pure, unadulterated Intent washed over the disciples of his honored sect and incapacitated all of them.

If not for the plants to either side, he wouldn't have believed it. A ring of death, where simply the presence of the being that called upon him meant murder.

And yet… no one died. Not one of the disciples under his command is even permanently injured, and they were allowed, encouraged, even, to summon him.

They did summon their greatest alarm, of course- and in turn, summoned three more inner sect disciples.

These three did not endure so well as the first group. Bin Wei delivered some of his own medicinal pills to them that they might recover from their wounds, and yet still, even then, not one of them had perished. Clean breaks of their legs and arms and another application of that devastating Killing Intent was all it took- and the fact that those were the only tools used implies much about the power of the enemy that defeated them. To vanquish Foundational cultivators is barely of note, but to defeat, incapacitate, and keep alive three Core Formation disciples and one Nascent Soul is outright frightening. Bin Wei himself doubts that he could do the same without access to techniques or Qi usage.

To call on other elders for such meager, potentially anecdotal events would be to lose far too much face- but Bin Wei is under no illusions. This being, whoever they are, is dangerous.

And still, despite this, when he traced a well-worn trail that they left behind, he found that it led to a village where none lay dead. No buildings upturned, no slaughter undertaken, just an unreasonable amount of silver coins and strange, Qi-infused bones left in the hands of mortal farmers.

And a message, left specifically for him- head to the hills.

Personally, he would not qualify the land they pointed out as a hillside. The Watchful Fields sect may not stand atop the peaks, but their role is essential, and their sect compound is still elevated well above the lands they govern, that they might both experience the Heaven's will and watch over the many fields from which they took their name. These "hills"… to a mortal, perhaps, but in truth, the uneven, unfarmed patch of wild terrain is more a collection of buried rocks and a mediocre little vale than true hills.

But it is where he was told to go. And it is where, now, his Qi-senses pick up the slightest hint of his would-be opponent's location.

Smoke. Tinged blue, tingling with a strange signature, but clear as day to his sight against a backdrop of mortal-grade crops.

Wielding his Domain, Bin Wei warps the space in front of him, altering the state of his personal realm such that it moves him without the need for locomotion. Qi flight is costly, but mastery over Domain, true mastery, is the mark of the worthy, of a cultivator of strength and will. It is his turn, this century, to watch over the affairs of the sect alongside his fellow sect elders, until the day comes that the council cycles to those who were meditating and opens up space for more closed-door cultivation. By all rights, an elder of the Warrior realm should never be called upon to deal with a single intruder.

But such are the whims of bureaucracy and fate, and now he is not sure if perhaps he is exactly what is needed to confront this strange threat.

He floats above the hills, standing on air that, in his Domain, is stone of purest azure and whirling, semi-liquid currents, searching for the origin of the smoke he saw. He sweeps over the terrain for the telltale disturbances of a stealth technique or obfuscation array, prepared to defend himself, searching for even the slightest hint of something out of place…

Nothing.

A trick? A distraction, to summon him, get him away from the sect? But… why? No more alarms have been activated, no sign of the sect's defences lighting up, no signs of an attack… just nothing. Just silence.

Hmm.

If he finds no one here, the loss of face would absolutely demand retribution… but to fixate on face, rather than address a true threat, is the mark of a fool.

"I have received your message, intruder!" he says, enhancing his voice with a cycling of his Qi. "Your mercy in preserving the lives of my junior disciples has been noted, and I come here in the spirit of parley. Will you shame yourself by hiding, or speak to me now in the hopes that you might receive fair judgement?"

Nothing. Not a blade of grass out of place.

A trick, then. He snarls, ready to turn back, and-

Something hits him in the back of the head. Lightly.

He whirls so fast that his robes snap in the wind, the air trying and failing to resist him, and sees-

A cigarette, burnt down to a nub, falling from where it bounced off of his head.

"What is it with you elders and judgement?" comes a voice, deep and husky but unmistakably feminine. "I show up to greet my new neighbors and find myself attacked at every step, and now here you are, acting as if I've lain some insult at your feet."

He lowers from where he stood, walking on air that is turned to azure stone by his Domain, cycling it constantly and keeping the expenditure of Qi at a minimum. How did she do that? Attack him from that angle, without him noticing, and, more importantly, speak, out loud, without giving away her location? He can sense the lives of every insect in the field, track the Qi of every blade of grass-

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

She waves a hand at him, and he freezes.

She wasn't hiding.

She just has no Qi.

To exist and exude so little Qi… it speaks to either a soul-deep modification, like a true crippling of one's spiritual organs, or control so utterly perfect that it is, to a heart over two thousand years old, frightening.

He has to be very, very careful here.

Slowly, he floats down to the earth, diminishing the aura of his Domain to just above the surface of his skin. He offers a bow that is polite, but not deferential- that of a master speaking to an equal.

"Apologies, honorable one. This Bin Wei did not seek to insult one of your stature, though I am sure that you understand why I had to approach with the fortitude of one whose home has been trampled upon."

"Trampled upon?" asks the strange woman, tilting her head such that long dreadlocks of sunrise-colored… brain matter(?) rolls to one side, framing the horns that curl from her temples. "I believe I have been more than polite, senior Bin Wei. Preserving so carefully the lives of fools is something that takes effort, and to see such effort returned by way of such blatant aggression hardly puts me at ease."

"Such is the Jianghu, fellow cultivator. Ease, in this world, is worth more than gold."

She tilts her head the other way, like an inquisitive animal. "Jianghu. I'm afraid I haven't heard the term before, though I do take your meaning. It is not an easy world we live in, is it?"

"It is not, fellow cultivator."

She smiles, a thing of sharp teeth and strange, glinting eyes. With his senses, even here, he can see her pupils- star-shaped, like four slitted eyes together as an eight-pointed form.

"Not a cultivator, but I appreciate the consideration."

Not a cultivator. What is she?

Hmm. It is a big world, and there are many strange (and often wrongful) things in it- what matters most here is that she is capable of speech, and capable of violence on a level even Bin Wei must respect. Careful.

"If you are not a cultivator, then may I inquire as to what your purpose is in the lands of Morae?"

That same smile, somehow just a bit wider. Like she's laughing at something he can't quite see.

"I'm new in town, and I have come here to learn."

"To learn what, if I may ask?"

She shrugs, the motion mesmerizing. There are strange muscles under that skin, lithe but powerful, optimized for movement and violence- and they do not move as they should. Not how human bodies move.

"Well, I admit, in part, I'm here to practice fighting. Been getting rusty, neglecting it in favor of other tools, and this was one of the places recommended to me. In larger part? There's a war on, and I am, willingly and in spite of the headache of it all, a player in it. Your land of Morae will, in all likelihood, play a crucial role in finally tipping this world past the Wall- or in stifling it to silence once again. Figured I should come say hi, introduce myself."

"...with all due respect, honorable guest, while you have shown considerable talent in the art of violence, I'm afraid that these eyes cannot see how this elder can assist you. Perhaps you might be best suited to return past the boundary, and procure a more official invitation."

She smiles wider, like she can sense the way his heart skipped a step. Rumors of the breach of the Wall at the center of the world have echoed for weeks now, and many reports have been compiled- there is no doubt that she is correct, and that war is coming.

But it is not the place of the Watchful Fields sect to determine what Morae will do, for the republic is a land of many voices, and rarely do they agree, except to maintain a tenuous status quo. Violence, battle, the occasional slaughter, these are the price and the reward for cultivators who maintain the balance, but to challenge the Empire would be to court death, and to attempt to assist it? So far from its borders, with no guarantee of protection or alliance? That would not be courting death, that would be falling at its feet to beg for it to strike them down.

And Bin Wei, for all his age and wisdom, is wise enough to recognize when something will be nothing but trouble.

She stands, slowly, and reaches a hand up to her head, angling her neck until something cracks. She repeats the motion, seeming to luxuriate in the casual action, her eyes never leaving Bin Wei's gaze, her smile never fading.

"I get it, Bin Wei. I do. Stranger shows up on your door, starts talking all this war-talk, it's hardly appetizing. And quite frankly, I'm not really in the business of all this… realpolitik. It's not my strong suit, nor my preference- but I need to learn, and anywhere with this many sects has to be the sort of trial by fire I need. So… how about I offer you a trade?"

"This Bin Wei could not find it in his heart to negotiate on behalf of his sect, not without-"

"Nothing like that. Something simpler. You and me. A bet. And if you say no, I promise, I'll turn around and head right back out of the boundary to darken someone else's doorstep. What do you say?"

This time, he can't help himself- the ridiculousness of the situation strikes him at last, and he snorts, a genuine chuckle coming right behind it. "I'm sorry, esteemed visitor, but I'm afraid that we are still strangers to each other. This Bin Wei cannot commit to any sort of deal with one that he cannot trust, and-"

"I solemnly swear to uphold whatever bet we decide on, so long as it is decided here and now, and is kept only to the two of us."

Silence.

The grass does not sway. The wind does not blow. For a moment, it is like the world itself is holding its breath.

That…

He's heard that voice before. That fusion of vibration and melody, of force and weight. But he's only ever heard it from one source- the Sect Patriarch.

Truespeak, she called it. An expression of power through voice that can only occur in those who are so infused with Qi that they can no longer be called mortal in a conventional way, for their Souls have been refined or empowered nearly to the realms of the divine.

Dangerous.

But… to cultivate is to defy the Heavens. And this… this might be the opportunity he needs. And an opportunity, in the life of a cultivator, should be grabbed, boldly and immediately, lest it be lost.

"What bet do you propose?" he asks.

She smiles, and it is like staring into his own death, grinning and many-fanged.

"Nothing too troubling, I assure you. We fight, here, in the confines of these little hills. You are free to use every artifact, Domain-trick, technique, or aspect of your cultivation, Truth or Dao. I will use nothing but my body and my Intent, with no hidden constructs, weapons, or tricks. First one to make the other bleed wins."

"...And what is it that I get if I win?"

With a flourish and a flick of the wrist, her palm… opens. Like that of a flesh-crafter's puppets, it distends and morphs, a horrendous flower of flesh, and from deep within her arm, something emerges, her hand reforming to hold it out.

It is like a droplet of water, of morning dew, save for the fact that it is made not of water, but a dark, viscous crimson. Like blood with more color, denser somehow.

And unlike the woman, it reeks of Qi. Even as he stares at it, he can see the purity of it, his senses pushing up against a density of raw, refined Qi the likes of which he has never felt outside of an alchemical laboratory, and even then only as a single drop, a magnum opus in the making. The grass around her hand begins to leak out droplets of water, responding to the pure Dao of Life and Blood in the oversized droplet.

It is bigger than his hand. The pills that could be made from a resource like that…

"I give you this, and then immediately leave your territory out the way I came."

His eyes flash to her, wide, glinting with barely-restrained cultivation. Give it? How confident is she of this bet? How can she be so comfortable in risking such a resource? He has lost any doubts about her strength well before this- if she is like him, in the Warrior realm, then she is clearly an expert, and has apparently nearly crippled her own capabilities purely to train. In a direct fight, he might even be at a disadvantage… but there are no guarantees in battle. She doesn't know his capabilities, what life-saving artifacts he might be carrying, what he can truly do- is she looking down at him this much?

Or… is it that such a prize truly is something she can afford to toss aside so flippantly?

"And if I win," she says, her smile turned to a polite thing of lips alone,"then you take me to your sect, and introduce me to your boss. Simple as that. No need to defend me, or stand by my side, or speak on my behalf, just… introduce us. Sound fair?"

"..."

"Tick-tock, honorable Bin Wei. I don't have time to wait around forever."

There really is only one choice. If he believes in his own abilities, honed over millennia, believes in his path as a cultivator, as one who will enter the Emperor realm… then he knows the choice he has already made.

"I accept."

The smile broadens, somehow holding even more fangs than before.

"Excellent. So-"

"On one condition."

She blinks. "Oh?"

"First, stranger, you tell me your name."

She pauses. Blinks again. And then-

"Ha! I'm sorry, I could've sworn I told your underlings. The name's Raika."

"Very well then. I agree to your terms, Rai Ka."

She chuckles, rolling her neck and shoulders.

"Good. I needed a proper workout."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.