Unintended Cultivator

One of the lessons that Sen learned from collecting plants and alchemical reagents on Uncle Kho’s mountain was that the finding all too often proved easier than the actual harvesting. Many of those plants had powerful defenses that could prove downright lethal to the careful cultivator. Beyond that, humans weren’t the only ones who found those plants and reagents useful. While spirit beasts did not practice alchemy, at least not to Sen’s knowledge, they could often consume those reagents for benefits. The more potent the plants and reagents, the more powerful the spirit beasts who would guard them. That had been at least part of the reason that Uncle Kho’s mountain had been such a dangerous place. There were many very useful things on that mountain, and many spirit beasts had moved in to take advantage. That was something that Sen reminded himself about again as he pulled his spear free from the body of some kind of bird of prey with a metal beak, talons, and even eyes.

“This isn’t actually malicious,” Sen muttered. “They aren’t intentionally trying to stall you.”

Of course, saying it and believing it were two different matters. Yes, Mt. Solace was even more remote than Uncle Kho’s mountain. Yes, Sen strongly suspected that it had been harvested from even less frequently. So, he should have expected unhappy spirit beasts to slow him down. He’d even blown off the first few attacks. What he had not expected was the constant stream of them. He’d been awake and fighting for nearly three straight days as they crawled their way up the mountain. He knew he could keep going for a while, but there were limits. Going without sleep generally meant toning down the combat activities as much as possible. It freed up the qi for things like reinforcing the body as necessary. When combat was nearly relentless, the body only got reinforced here and there. Given that Sen didn’t understand how Fu Ruolan had stabilized his condition, he was not particularly keen on the idea of pushing his body to its limits for extended periods of time.

It wasn’t even that any given confrontation was that difficult. With lone spirit beasts, Sen could often immobilize them with his auric imposition or slow them down enough with it to get off other attacks. For attacks by groups, he’d often deployed his killing intent like a blanket over the area. That was often sufficient to end the threat by itself. But those tactics required concentration and, because Falling Leaf was nearby, a degree of precision. Using those tactics over and over and over again had worn him down mentally. He was still thinking far faster than any mortal, but the spirit beasts were only growing more powerful and faster the higher they went up the mountain. If things kept up the way they had been, Sen knew that he was going to make a mistake that would get him or Falling Leaf badly injured or killed. He leaned on the spear and gave Falling Leaf a grim look.

“We can’t keep going on like this,” he said. “I think we need to hole up for a night.”

Falling Leaf stared up toward the peak of the mountain. He wasn’t sure exactly what she was feeling at the moment, but he was deeply relieved that she was pointing it at something other than him. Making a frustrated sound that never quite became a word, she gave him a questioning look.

“Do we have the time for that?”

She was as aware of the schedule they were on as he was, and it was clearly on her mind. Sen considered it as he too stared up toward the peak. He had a vague idea of where on the mountain to look, but he didn’t know how much farther they had to go to reach it. The mountain was vast. While they’d gotten a goodly way up it, the peak vanished into the cloud cover overhead. It could still be days before they reached the right spot.

“I don’t know,” admitted Sen. “I do know that we can’t afford for either of us to make a bad choice because we were too tired to make a good one.”

Sen gave serious consideration to just throwing up a galehouse right there, but they had made a lot of noise and spilled blood. While the noise and fighting would keep other things away for a time, the smell of blood would draw attention to their location sooner than later. Rubbing at his face with the hand that wasn’t holding on to his spear, he looked down at the three dead birds on the ground. Loathing the lost time, he still stopped to remove their cores, beaks, talons, and eyes. He didn’t need anyone to tell him that they would prove useful, valuable, or both. While he wasn’t that worried about money, it was still stupid to just leave resources sitting around on the ground. Staring down at the remains of the dead birds, a random thought hit him.

“Do you think these things are edible?” he asked Falling Leaf.

She shrugged. “Most birds are.”

Sen stored the corpses in a storage ring, then headed off looking for a better spot to put up a galehouse. It took about an hour that was mercifully free from any additional attacks before Sen found a place that he considered acceptable. Even after letting Falling Leaf grab whatever cores she wanted, Sen was still freshly stocked on a wide variety of them. He even had enough metal-attributed cores to set up his nasty spike formation. While he took the extra time to set up several formations outside of the galehouse, Falling Leaf took the birds and finished cleaning them. Not that Sen was especially worried that they would make him sick. Auntie Caihong had told him that core cultivators and dual cultivators like him could theoretically eat just about anything without suffering any ill effects from things that weren’t specifically poisons and venoms. He was more worried that the birds just wouldn’t taste good. Once he finished putting up the formations, which went much faster than he expected, he walked over to where Falling Leaf was considering the plucked birds. He eyed them, and then her.

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“Is there a problem?” he asked.

“We can’t cook them all inside,” she said. “The fireplace isn’t big enough.”

Sen covered his eyes with his hands. Of course, the fireplace was fine for cooking in pots and pans, but these things needed to roast. He thought about it for a few minutes before he took a few steps away. Compared with the galehouse, what he made was simplicity itself. It was really just a shallow stone ring with raised sections where the ends of spits could rest. He took a moment to focus and cycle metal qi. It involved some effort, but he managed to dredge up enough metal from the ground to form three metal spits that should be able to hold the large birds. He gathered up some firewood while Falling Leaf got the birds onto the narrow metal rods. It only took a few minutes for him to turn the wood he gathered into a bed of coals that were throwing off a lot of heat. He helped Falling Leaf position the birds over the coals before they both sat down near the fire pit.

Sen thought that they might talk, but it wasn’t to be. He sprawled out on the ground and was soon asleep. What dreams he had were surreal, unintelligible things that he struggled to even remember when Falling Leaf gently nudged him. He woke with a start, his eyes darting around to find the danger. He relaxed a little when he remembered where they were. It wasn’t precisely safety, but it was likely as close as they were going to get on Mt. Solace. Pushing himself up into a sitting position, Sen couldn’t stifle a yawn. Even so, his mind felt clearer and less ragged around the edges. If nothing else, it didn’t feel like work to think anymore. It was a small but important improvement to Sen’s way of thinking. He blinked at the birds. They smelled like they were probably done. Falling Leaf was looking at the birds a bit nervously. When she noticed him watching her, she got a sheepish expression on her face.

“I didn’t know when they were done,” she said.

“Oh. I’ll show you,” said Sen.

He stood, walked over, and grabbed one of the legs. He gave it a gentle tug. The leg came away from the bird cleanly. He held the leg out to her. She took it and lifted an eyebrow at him.

“I don’t understand,” she said.

“If the leg comes away with a little gentle pressure, it usually means the meat is cooked through,” said Sen, grabbing a leg for himself. “Auntie Caihong taught me that.”

Falling Leaf nodded as though now it all made perfect sense. A little hesitantly, Sen took a bite. The meat was a little gamey, but otherwise seemed edible to Sen. He had meant to sprinkle on some spices, but the nap had prevented that. Oh well, he thought. Maybe next time. Once it was established the bird was indeed edible, the pair of them polished off one whole bird between them in no time. Sen did wish that he’d made something to go with it, but there were worse things than a simple meal. He also discovered that the meat was rich in qi. Very rich. Absurdly rich. He felt it crashing into his dantian and spreading out through his body. Falling Leaf seemed to be experiencing something similar since she’d gotten up and started pacing a little. Sen was about to ask her about it when a voice called out from the darkness.

“Hello, the fire,” shouted a man’s voice.

Sen’s jian was out and crackling with lightning before he’d made a conscious decision about what to do. Falling Leaf was glaring in the direction of the voice with those shadow claws coalescing around her fingers. The man was standing right at the edge of the area where Sen’s formations would activate. The man seemed a little startled by their reactions but not afraid. That didn’t sit well with Sen. So, he let some killing intent bleed into the jian until Heavens’ Rebuke locked into place, turning the already lethal jian into a personal apocalypse for the stupid and unwary. That got the man’s attention and his almost bland expression turned into one of careful wariness.

“Not very friendly, are you?” asked the man.

“Being friendly with strangers is a good way to end up dead,” said Sen. “Especially in the wilds.”

“Then you’re spending time with the wrong strangers,” offered the man with a cheerful smile.

When that got exactly no response from Sen or Falling Leaf, the man actually looked a little hurt. When the silence stretched out to close to a minute with no one doing anything, Sen finally got tired of it.

“I think it’s time that you moved on,” said Sen. “You clearly know that there are formations in place. Take those as a hint.”

The stranger frowned as if he’d abruptly realized that Sen was being deadly serious and not just posturing.

“You’d leave a fellow traveler to the mercies of this mountain?”

“The last fellow travelers we met here meant to rob and kill us,” said Sen. “So, yes. If you aren’t strong enough to protect yourself, you don’t belong on this mountain.”

“Does your very pretty friend feel the same way?” asked the stranger, turning what Sen assumed the man thought was a charming smile toward Falling Leaf.

“I would have already killed you,” said Falling Leaf in a cold, flat voice.

The stranger blinked a few times like he couldn’t quite believe that had failed to get him anywhere. He looked back over at Sen.

“You’re the reasonable one?”

“No. I’m not reasonable at all. I’m also out of patience,” said Sen, leveling the jian at the man.

The stranger grasped that he’d pushed his luck well beyond the limits of Sen’s tolerance. He lifted his hands and backed away.

“I’m sorry I bothered you,” said the man in haste before disappearing into the trees.

“He isn’t really leaving, is he?” asked Falling Leaf.

“No,” said Sen. “I don’t believe he is.”

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