An let out a sigh of relief at the sight of Jiangshi, although it had taken her a minute or two to identify it as such. At first she’d thought she might have gotten lost and happened upon another village.

She hadn’t though. It was the same settlement she had departed from a little less than three weeks ago. The only difference now was that it was – mostly – ringed by a rather imposing looking wall. Even from this distance she could see laborers working to finish off what appeared to be the gatehouse.

I did not know mortals could work so fast, she thought. Though if they had the ability to put up such an imposing redoubt, why then did they satisfy themselves wish such a meagre palisade?

She shook her head. It was best not to dwell on the fallacies and inconsistencies of mortals. It was in their nature to be content with their lot in life. Slow and unmoving, while cultivators ever battled for more. Still, part of her lamented the fact that if the mortals had not been so cheap with their own defenses, she would not have failed so greatly in her master’s task.

Not in her acquisition of a mortal guard, no, she had sourced five of such men, including one of high rank – at least for a mortal. True, each of them sported wounds that had denied them their earlier profession, but that was within the criteria laid out for her. No, the true cause of her failure lay in the delays she had incurred on her return trip. Her boast of returning within a single week had been reduced to mere empty air.

And it’s all their fault, she thought, glaring venomously back at the veritable train of bedraggled mortals that followed after her.

Of course, it was hard to remain angry at them when they made for such a pitiable sight. Most looked dead on their feet, without even the energy to cheer now that their destination was in sight. Not that she blamed them for their lethargy. The lost collection of souls that followed her now were the survivors of villages she’d encountered on her return journey. Men, women and children that had abandoned their homes in search of safety in the city of Ten Huo.

A common line of thought, it seemed.

When she’d arrived at the massive city, lines of refugees from the outlying countryside had already begun to form outside the gates for processing – and An had little doubt that those lines would only grow in the coming months as more and more people flocked to safety.

Though how many will survive the journey, this Guo An does not know, she thought, her features softening slightly as she led her small army of followers toward Jiangshi.

Hence why a number had chosen to follow her instead of making for the city – seeing the safety gained from traveling in her immediate company as preferable to the long and perilous journey to the city.

…Never mind that her destination took her further, not closer, to Ten Huo.

Still, she was pleased to note that their approach had not gone unnoticed. From her vantage point, she could see men on the walls calling down into the town, and in short order a small procession of men and women were walking out to meet her, mayor Xin at their head.

Though she frowned mightily at the way they clutched their farming implements cum weapons close to hand. Certainly a degree of caution was warranted given the danger of corrupted beast attack, but surely her presence alone provided sufficient security against it?

She’d only lost two people on the trip here, after all. And that could hardly have been considered her fault.

Because what manner of fools sneak out in the night in the name of carnal relations when danger lurks behind every tree?

Had the pair of would-be lovers been revived that very night to see how their families wept at their loss, this young mistress would have killed them all over again for their thoughtlessness.

She shook her head, banishing the thought as the residents of Jiangshi approached.

“Mistress cultivator?” Mayor Xin asked from his position at the fore, seemingly shocked from whatever he was about to say by her appearance.

Apparently, he hadn’t recognized her.

She would have chided him for that were it not for the fact that she would reluctantly admit there was no small cause for it.

Her dress was in tatters. She was filthy. Filthy and tired.

Hungry too.

…So hungry.

And she had neither the patience nor the inclination to hide any of those afflictions for the benefit of a band of lowly mortals!

“Take me to the inn. See these people housed.” Her words were short. Commanding.

Which made it all the more galling when the ox-man had the audacity to hesitate.

“Did you not hear me?” Her words had taken on a distinctly dangerous tone.

The mortal shifted uncomfortably under her glare. “I – uh – would like to comply, young mistress… it’s just…”

“What?”

She stared up at the massive man, daring him to delay her journey even a moment longer. An liked to consider herself a woman not easily given to wroth or outbursts… but the last few days had been taxing.

Even her patience had limits. Limits the mayor of Jiangshi was testing even with his tepid resistance.

“He’s worried there’s not enough food to support your… entourage.”

Like water draining from a cracked bowl, all the tension in the clearing dissipated instantly as An registered the unexpected voice.

“Master!?”

Ignoring the undignified surprised squeak in her voice, her eyes roamed around in search of the hidden master, only to freeze as she realized the powerful man’s voice was coming from a small box in Xin’s hands.

The same technology as his mystic sanctum, she thought desperately.

What poor luck!

She had hoped to freshen herself and change her clothes before going to see him. She needed to put her best foot forward to wipe away the shame of her delay.

Oh, the shame, for him to see her like this!

“I… uh…” Her words came out haltingly and without poise, her thoughts thrown into disarray by this unexpected turn of events. “Food?”

“Yes. Food.” Master Johansen’s dry tone was clear, even through the distortion the small mystic construct applied to his voice. “The stuff people eat. Jiangshi has grain stores and farms, but I wager our mayor here is dubious as to whether the town can support another thousand mouths in the long term.” He sighed. “Farming’s certainly not gotten any easier since these attacks started.”

Attacks that are likely only going to get worse in the coming months as the wild beasts finish off other villages and start congregating towards the still standing ones, she realized.

An flushed. She had not even considered such things when she had chosen to allow these refugees to accompany her. Silence reigned, and behind her she could hear the nervous shifting of the mortals that had accompanied her.

Which only further added to her shame. What was running through these people’s minds? To have come so far and lost so much only to be turned away at the final hurdle. It would be a death sentence.

Unexpectedly, her heart lurched.

Would… would she have to… she didn’t know? Beg for her master’s beneficence? What could he do though? Not even a hidden master could turn their hand and have rice fall forth?

For if that were the case, what use would we have of mortals? she thought worriedly.

The growing silence in the clearing was broken by the dry ponderings of Master Johansen.

“I must admit, I was wondering how the other villages around here were doing. Even thought of telling Xin to send a runner – before I realized that’d probably just get the poor sod eaten.” He paused. “I’m guessing that it’s bad out there?”

An kicked the dirt at her feet, eyes averted. “It’s not… good.”

Most of the villages she’d encountered on her journey had been ravaged in one form or another - and while some had seen aid from guard patrols or fellow cultivators who had been traveling north like herself - most had simply been left to wither on the vine.

The Eight families had not ranged forth to secure their lands. Instead they’d remained holed up in their city, leery of leaving its boundaries with so much of their membership already left for the Northern Provinces.

This was a foolishly short sighted move in her opinion, for without the outlying villages to feed it, trouble would soon bloom for the city itself. She couldn’t help but wonder if that was part of the Arch-Traitor’s plan? To cut the Empire’s feet out from under her?

“Alright, let them in. We’ll have to bite into the larders for now, but I’ll figure out a way to resolve this.”

For just a moment, An couldn’t help but wonder if she’d misheard. Only after a moment of self reflection did she realize that she had not. Her master had agreed to aid the poor souls behind her.

The tiger-woman’s heart leapt in her chest, even as she fought to keep a regal bearing. Something that the people behind her in no way emulated as they started to cheer. Not that she begrudged them that.

They were only mortal after all.

“Alright, enough of that.” Were it anyone else, An might have said Master Johansen sounded embarrassed as his voice issued forth from the box. “Xin, quit fidgeting and start seeing to these people’s needs. Food. Shelter. All that shit.”

The man nodded quickly.

“An, you better get over here with that thing I told you to get.” He paused. “And wipe that dumb grin off your face – don’t think I’ve forgotten that you promised to be back before the end of the first week. We’ll be having words about promising deadlines you can’t keep. As soon as you’ve brought me what you promised, you’ll be back out here helping Xin sort out this mess you’ve tossed onto his lap.”

---------------

Well you’re in the shit now buddy, Kang thought as he led his small band of fellow cripples into the hidden master’s sanctum.

As a captain in the Ten Huo city guard, Kang was no stranger to cultivators or the strange things they got up to. In that regard, the mystic iron doors he and his fellows had been guided to - before the young mistress had dashed off like the heavenly hounds were nipping at her heels – wasn’t that strange.

That it was located inside what was, by all indications, a mineshaft was though.

He also doubted he was alone in being more than a mite discomfited by the wave of hot air that had washed out of the doors as they had slid open in a manner that retroactively reminded him of the maw of a great beast.

For weeks he’d cursed the cold, snow and damp for how they aggravated his leg, yet now he couldn’t help but think they were a welcome alternative to the blazing heat that surrounded them. It was dark and gloomy within the stone halls, the path they were to follow lit by only a few overhead lights. It was not quiet though. From deep within the blackness, he could hear the echoes of many somethings grinding, whirring and banging - though what was causing those sounds, he had no idea.

The only thing he did know was that he might have made a mistake in accepting the cultivator girl’s strange offer all those moons ago. A thought that he was sure was echoing in more than just his own mind as the band of cripples followed the hidden master deeper into his home.

And wasn’t that another oddity?

Certainly, Kang had expected to be greeted by someone once the tiger-lass left, but he hadn’t expected that someone to be the master himself.

Yet now the big man walked ahead of them, his massive imposing form armored and thick as he stomped through the halls of his domain. He had said little, only entreating them to follow.

That at least tracked with Kang’s usual experiences with cultivators.

Arrogant bastards, the lot of them, he thought.

Though he couldn’t help but retract that statement just a little as another of those strange mystic doors slid open to reveal a room furnished with tables and chairs. Metal oddly enough, but that was not what held Kang’s attention.

“Sit. Drink. Eat.” The master said, gesturing to the containers of water and bowls of rice, vegetables and meat stacked high upon the table. “You boys have had quite a journey. And I doubt it was easy on any of you given your injuries.”

Kang hesitated for just a second at the cultivator’s outstretched arm, before bowing his thanks and striding forward into the room. Which was cool, he suddenly realized, the hot heavy air of the outside giving way to a cool freshness as he stepped inside. Taking a seat, he was amazed to see that there was ice in the glasses. What was more, the glass was of an opacity and clearness he’d never seen before.

Around him, he could hear his fellows making sounds of contentment as they rested their weary bodies upon the chairs. Or in the case of Yan, was lowered into his chair by his brother, the stumps of his legs dangling awkwardly off the end.

None of them dared to reach for the food or drink though.

Master Johansen – as the tiger-lass had told them he was called – seemed confused by that fact, as he sank into a chair that should have in no way been able to hold his armored bulk.

He was a strange one to look upon.

Kang had on one occasion on the trip to Jiangshi asked the cultivator woman what manner of half-beast her master was, if only in the hopes that he might better gauge the man's temperament.

For while it was true that a man's beast-nature was not the entirety of what he was, Kang had found over the years that the stereotypes held some small glimmer of truth to them. Half-Snakes were crafty. Half-Oxen proud. Half-Rats sneaky but in a manner different to half-snakes. Half-Goats were stubborn. Half-Monkeys were mischievous. The list went on. It was confusing, but he found it helped.

Yet the girl had gone uncharacteristically silent at his question.

It seemed she didn't know. And now that Kang looked upon the man, he could see why. Whatever Half-Beast Mark the man had, it was subtle. Certainly not in the feet, hands or ears. Nor did he have horns or a tail. They would have shown even through the armor.

And the girl would have known if it were in the face or the eyes. No, whatever animal trait the man possessed that indicated his ancestral beast heritage, it was apparently well hidden.

Scales around the abdomen? Kang wondered. He'd known a few Snake-King through the years whose Beast-Mark had presented in such a way. Or perhaps sharpened teeth?

“Well, aren’t you hungry?”

The words took him off guard, shaking him from his ponderings.

He was. were. They all were. But all of them were wary of offending the cultivator by partaking before he did. And cultivators were very easy to offend. Not to mention a study in contradictions.

Just because one offered food didn’t mean they were offering food. Cultivators could be a coin flip like that.

So no, they wouldn’t eat until the man himself did.

Not that he seems in any hurry to, Kang thought as he noted that the man had yet to remove his strange helm. Time dragged on, the delicious aroma of hot food wafting across the table. Fuck it, if I’m going to die for offending a cultivator, I’d prefer to do it on a full stomach.

He reached out, grabbing a bowl and a pair of chopsticks before shoveling the contents into his mouth with a gracelessness that would have seen his mother slap him over the head with a sandal were she still around to see it.

That did it, and soon enough every man was shoveling food into their mouths as fast as they could. A feat made slightly more difficult for Wun, given his single hand, but the thin man more than made up for his lacking limb with enthusiasm.

All the while, Master Johansen merely watched.

Finally, when his stomach was full and his thirst was quenched, Kang managed to regain his faculties enough to be embarrassed by his show of glut.

“This lowly one thanks master cultivator for the food and drink.” He bowed his head.

His words and actions were echoed by the other former guards around the table, but the cultivator merely waved his hand dismissively.

“Don’t worry about it. I figured it was the least I owed you after you traveled all this way to meet me.”

Kang bowed again, before straightening up. Now that his stomach was full and he wasn’t in danger of collapsing from exhaustion, he could actually analyze the man in front of him. Sure, he didn’t have a ton to go off, but his interactions thus far was enough for him to gauge a rough response to the man in front of him.

He’d done the same many times when interacting with cultivators during his time as a guard captain.

The man had been a hidden master prior to his arrival in Jianshi. He’d had no servants. He’d greeted them himself. Fed them. Been brisk, but not rude.

A rural type then, he thought as he mentally shuffled the man into one of the many mental categories he’d developed over the years when figuring out ways to interact with cultivators. Has respect for guest rights. Values self sufficiency. Has little time for pomp or pageantry.

Good. That was good. The rural types tended to be a lot simpler to deal with than city or sect born cultivators.

“You have quite a fortress here,” Kang began with a compliment, reasonably sure that he would not be punished for speaking out of turn.

Master Johansen cocked his head.

“It’s useful enough,” he allowed. “Though not as secure as I might like. A hairless mole the size of a horse got in last week. Claws like knives. Damn monster wrecked three fabs before I put it down. By which point the damn thing had somehow managed to set itself on fire. Christ, you should have heard the shrieking.”

Despite himself, Kang shuddered. He could well imagine the scene.

It was also a firm reminder as to why cultivators, despite all the issues they caused, were a boon for the people of the Celestial Empire. And it took him a lot to say that given he’d been crippled by one.

For the audacity of impeding his entry into the city, he thought bitterly.

The cultivator in question had died for that of course. The sects did not appreciate outsiders refusing to give face by following their laws, but that didn’t do him any good.

He’d still been tossed out onto his ass.

A guard with a crippled leg was of no value to anyone. Perhaps things might have been different if he were of higher rank, but as a mere captain it was seen as more efficient to discard him and promote another.

“Which brings me to why you lot are here.” The cultivator continued. “I mean to wait out the Empire’s current troubles here in Jiangshi. To that end, I have need of a decent guard force.”

Kang nodded. He’d expected as much. Though that begged the question…

“With respect master cultivator, while we would be honored to serve you, myself and my fellow are hardly in a fit state to do so.”

Kang knew what he wanted. That, as much as gold, had been why he’d come along on this journey. A sentiment he knew was shared by the others. None of them had said it aloud. None of them had dared to.

For it was a ridiculous hope. Healers were rare. Apparently it took long years of training and incredible control for a cultivator to learn the art. Thus they were a rare and guarded resource. More to the point, restoring a severed limb or fixing something like an eye required skill beyond that of all but the most renowned healers.

People like Dai Jing, the White Fist or Hi Jiang, the Jade Needle.

Renowned heroes of the Empire whose name was known by every loyal citizen and were sought by sect masters across the land. Certainly not the kind of people that would waste their valuable time on mere mortals.

Yet he was still here. He still hoped for the impossible.

“Yeah, that’s not a problem.” Master Johansen drawled. “Legs, arms and sight are easy enough to fix.” He pointed to the back. “What’s wrong with you?”

Kang barely heard him. He was still too busy processing what had just been said.

Still, he was shaken out of it as young Gao managed to wheeze out a surprisingly loud response.

“Lungs,” he wheezed.

The cultivator just reclined in his chair. “Even easier than the others.”

Ignorant – or more likely indifferent – to his shellshocked audience, the man continued.

“Now, I didn’t truck you guys up here just to act as guards. I need you to train me up some locals.”

Mustering all the will he could, Kang managed to put his awe and hope to the side, as he focused on the topic at hand, determination blazing in his heart. Admittedly, some small part of him doubted the man’s claims of easily fixing his wounds, but that small part was drowned out by the overwhelming majority that needed the man’s words to be true.

“How many?” Kang said instantly.

“As many as I can get. But let’s say about a hundred in the first batch of trainees.”

Behind him, Kang heard someone cough. That was a lot of guards for such a small town.

Still…

“This lowly one assumes this garrison would be intended to repel animal attacks?” Kang asked. “So as to allow Master Cultivator to work undisturbed?”

“Sure.” The man made a peculiar gesture with his hand, waggling it side to side. “I assume you know how to do that?”

Kang nodded. “The guard of Ten Huo are indeed called upon to cull wolves or bears that threaten the surrounding towns and villages.”

“Good. How are you with people?”

Kang assumed the man did not mean in matter of discourse. “We are trained in how to disperse crowds or deal with bandits.”

The man nodded.

“And what about cultivators?”

Kang opened his mouth, only to pause.

“No?” he said finally.

Master Johansen cocked his head. “Really? What if one made trouble in town?”

“We’d call another cultivator.” Yan said from the back. “Uh, this lowly means that we would call for a cultivator, great one.”

If the man was bothered by the interruption in any way, he didn’t show it. “Really?”

Kang resisted the urge to frown. The answer was obvious. Why was the man asking this? Was he testing them.

“Cultivators are above mortals, great one.” He spoke slowly. “They are faster. Stronger. Even the lowliest cultivator has the strength of ten men and the reflexes of twenty.”

If Kang didn’t know any better, he might have heard the cultivator click his tongue at the response. “Alright, let’s imagine the local ‘good’ cultivators are busy.”

“Then we wait.” Gao wheezed, before coughing. Nonetheless, the young man determinedly managed to continue on despite his poison ravaged lungs. “Until the cultivator has vented their spleen.”

Kang gripped fist under the table. Waiting. Choosing not to act as a cultivator… acted improperly.

It was not always easy.

The cultivator across from him sounded incredulous. “So you never clash with them? What about when you’re at war? My mayor said you raise peasant levies.”

That was an area that Kang was more familiar with due to his relatively high rank. “Levies fight other levies, master cultivator. They are like pawns in chess; merely a means to pressure an army into applying their cultivators to break through a line or reinforce it before it breaks. After all, while cultivators are great and powerful, they cannot be everywhere.” He was quoting the scriptures now. “Thus, when conquering territory, one needs mortals soldiers to hold it. Thus in war, the common objective of clashing armies is to deplete the other’s manpower.”

He had thought the man across from him would be satisfied by his answer, but if anything, the cultivators seemed to sag. “So mortals are used as chaff in the most literal sense, huh?”

Kang didn’t know what to say to that. So he said nothing.

“What do guards like you do when an army marches then? I assume you’re more valuable than a peasant levy.”

“We spread out. Keep the peasants in line. If taking territory, we will train up new guards in new lands. For that reason, trained guards are often kept from the fighting itself. We are valuable enough to not be wasted.”

“Huh, so you’re more like military police than real soldiers.” The man murmured, mostly to himself.

For his part, Kang had no idea what a Po Lease was.

Then Master Johansen leaned forward, and for the first time since the conversation began, a certain intensity seemed to enter his voice. “Alright then, how would you deal with a cultivator if I asked you to?”

Silence reigned in the room, no one daring to speak.

“Bows and long spears. Hem them in. Like a bear.”

The wheeze in the speaker’s voice left no confusion as to who had spoken. Kang turned to give young Gao a warning look, but he was stopped as Master Johansen’s eyes turned to the young former guard with all the intensity of a predator sighting prey.

“Bows and spears? Keep them as much of a distance as you can, right?”

Kang heard more than saw Gao nod.

“An claimed that some cultivators have skin as hard as iron.”

“Some do.” Gao coughed. “Most don’t. Depends on type of cultivation. Not relevant anyway. Most of the trouble came from lower tiers. Disciples that got big for their boots. Don’t have iron skin. Just strong and fast. And most cultivators never make it past- ” The man coughed, wiping away a drop of bloody phlegm that seeped from his mouth. Still, he continued on, determination his flagging voice. “Initiate.”

The last word was barely a whisper, yet it echoed round the room like the banging of a bell.

Master Johansen said nothing, merely staring at the young former guard. His helm gave no indication of his expression.

That didn’t stop Kang from imagining the worst though. Imagining how they were all going to die for Gao spouting such… taboo!

Then the cultivator simply stood up, sliding a black device like the one the mayor had used before across the table. “Alright, you’re all dismissed, when you’re rested up enough to leave, press the button on the side of this device. An will come collect you and Xin will find housing for you. Report back here first thing tomorrow.”

Kang relaxed in his seat as the man simply walked off after he’d said his bit, the strange mystic doors of his sanctum opening and closing for him.

…Then he turned around and slugged Gao in the gut.

The mouthy bastard’s surprised wheezing was an excellent boon for his frazzled nerves.