“Excuse me. Important-”

  I dove to the side of the road, barely holding back a scream of pain as I landed on my chest, my broken ribs crying out in protest. But the pain all came secondary to the heart-pumping terror I felt as I slowly pushed my head up, looking towards the old man. The Elder, because they could be nothing else, continued to stare for a moment at the space I had just occupied, before readjusting their satchel on their shoulder again and lifting their head to the road beyond.

  Then, without even turning their head to look at me, they kept walking.

  I slumped against the ground for a moment, feeling my heart beat wildly against my chest as I struggled to breathe. Even with the quickly-forming bruises all over my body and the deep ache in my chest and back, the adrenaline rushing through my veins wouldn’t let me feel anything but alive.

  “Hey, hey, slow breaths, slow. You’re gonna give yourself a heart attack.” Isabella crouched down by my side, setting her scythe to the side as she rested a hand on my back. “Come on, do as I say. In for four seconds, out for eight. Understand?”

  I giggled. Despite my own hysteria, I followed Isabella’s instructions, slowly breathing in, hitching slightly as my ribs complained, then slowly exhaling for eight long seconds.

  “Somehow. That cultivator…” Isabella stared off into the distance, grimacing. “Do you recognise them?”

  I slowly lifted my head up, staring at the old man’s back who had continued to steadily walk away.

  “Another sect?”

  I turned my own gaze back to the pile of giblets, what was left of Stag.

  “He had multiple,” Isabella shook her head with a scowl. “He got what he deserved. But-” she snapped her head up, and stood from her crouch. “Bandits, incoming. Come on, look like you had something to do with this.”

  I coughed, pressing a hand against my chest as I slowly levered myself up into a cross-legged position and let my hands fall onto my knees. I did my best to ignore the remains of Stag, and looked up to the alley we had both come through, just in time for bandits to begin pouring in.

  “Oi oi, Stag, did ya get that-” Their vicious smiles and bared teeth were quickly replaced with wide eyes and open mouths as they beheld the scene, the ones frozen at the front pushed forward by their too-eager allies. The jostling and angry mutters from behind soon faded as they all filtered into a half circle across from me, the blood, guts, and shattered bones of Stag between us. I slowly lifted my hand in a wave, ignoring the pain shooting up my arm.

  “Move it, you bleedin’ idiots!” A familiar voice at the back roared, pushing through the mass of shocked bandits. I kept my hand up in the air for dramatic effect as Master Chin waded forwards, granting him an especially serene wave as he joined the other slack-jawed brigands as he stared down at the remains of the bandit’s leader.

  When he finally looked up to my own eyes, I granted him a slight smile. “Your boss is pretty strong, Yan Chin. He gave me a proper fight. Broke a few ribs, even.”

  Master Chin stared down at me with unbelieving eyes. I kept smiling.

  I didn’t see the first bandit flee, though I heard a scuffle towards the back of the crowd as some of them rushed back down the alley. I did see the third flee, one on the very edge of the circle, who dashed back the way that the old man came, ripping the mask from their head and tossing it to the side before leaning forward and , some cultivation technique lengthening their legs and pushing them towards the horizon. Soon enough, the entire crowd of would-be criminals had begun to run, not one of them looking back at me as they escaped.

  Master Chin didn’t move a muscle, continuing to stare. I kept smiling.

  By the time the last of the Bloody Woods Bandits had fled beyond my sight, Master Chin’s eyelids were beginning to twitch, and my smile was beginning to turn into a grimace. With the last pulling away behind some tree-cover in the distance, I finally relaxed my smile and groaned in pain, one hand clutching at my side while the other stopped me from falling right over.

  I watched Master Chin lift his hands to his mouth and scream into them in frustration for ten long seconds, before seizing a lungful of air and pointing both hands at me. “You ”

  “No need for that language, Chin,” I hissed out. “My parents are happily married.”

  “There’s no way you killed Stag. Not a chance. Not a fucking chance. How? ” Master Chin began to march towards me, then paused as I lifted a hand in his direction. He shook himself, and took another hesitant step forward. “No. I refuse to believe you can still fight. I to believe it.”

  “You sure?” I asked mildly.

  Chin took a step back, scowling at me. “The first time we met, I was careless. I will admit that. It’s the nature of cultivators to be…humbled. And Stag should have humbled you just the same. At least we’re on the same step, should have crushed you like a gnat.” The greasy brigand thought for a few moments. “A talisman. Somethin’ you stole from the Seven Falls, that you had to use now to save yourself.”

  “What does it matter, Chin?” I gestured around the empty street. “I still won this fight. And you lost your chance. Didn’t you say it’s the nature of cultivators to be humbled? Be , and appreciate that killing you now isn’t worth the effort for me.”

  Chin’s knuckles went white. “You want me to you?”

  “No.” Slowly, I began to stand once more, hand clutching my side. “I want you gone. You bring misery and suffering wherever you go; you brought it here to this village, just to get back at the one person who stood up to you. You’re the cultivator that every last commoner learns to dread and fear, and your absence would make this world a better place.”

  I slumped as a wave of exhaustion hit me. “Give it up, Chin. If I need to kill you, I will but…” I sighed. “, so I never have to see your face again.”

  Chin’s face was cast in stone. “You broke me. You me. Even now, you make me a laughing stock, you don’t even that I could give my life for the price of taking -”

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  I shook my head, and didn’t say a word.

  Chin’s scowl shattered apart as a rictus of rage seized him; his arms spread and he turned his head up, and to the heavens. Then, with an almighty gesture, he pointed at me, fury writ upon his expression. “You think yourself above me! You think yourself a damn ! But I did not become a cultivator ”

  “So hear me!” The bandit roared. “My name is Yan Chin! And I will bow and scrape and beg, but to you! And as surely as you’ve wounded me, you’ve engraved my very soul with a desire so deep that in every life that I live, this Yan Chin will seek nothin’ but seeing you ?”

  I mutely nodded.

  Yan Chin stared at me for a few moments more, then turned and began to run, following along after the rest of the bandits. I watched him go the entire distance.

  “Well.” Isabella said. “How do you think that’s gonna turn out, ”

  I coughed, glancing down at Stag’s remains.

  “Right.” Isabella moved forward, standing over the remains as she peered off down the street, in the direction the Elder had passed. “Much more pressing problems.” Her head then turned towards the alley, looking distantly towards the river beyond, and a grimace crossed her face. “Ryan-”

  I was already moving. I rushed back down the alleyway, taking care to avoid the bricks that had fallen at Stag’s passing. I emerged from the other side on the riverside road, head turning towards Old Jack’s house. A few of the fishermen that had been taken hostage had set up out front, watching the alley warily. I recognised Jack’s harpoon in the hands of a burly blonde, though they lowered it as I appeared. “Craig,” I called, wincing.

  “Ryan!” Craig dropped the harpoon and rushed forward with his arms open, only slowing as I warded him off. “We got in when the bandits rushed after ya, David’s in there now lookin’ after Da.” The big man tried to give me a sure nod. “He’s in good hands he is, he’ll be alright.”

  In the doorway behind Craig, I saw Isabella standing, scythe held. She gave me a tight smile.

  “I appreciate it, Craig,” I nodded at him with a grim smile of my own. “I just need to cheer him on.”

  Craig swallowed, looking away. “Aye. Sure.”

  I gave the taller man a pat on the shoulder as I stepped over the shattered glass and into the room beyond. There, David had finished the job I started, though I could see the bandages I’d applied had already soaked through, the ground stained red. David didn’t even look up as I came through, focusing on tearing more curtains to tie over the sodden bandages.

  Old Jack sat there, leaned against the wall, head tilted slightly, eyes staring off into space as his chest moved by the barest fractions.

  I blinked, and realised that Isabella had grabbed my hand. “It’s too much,” Isabella said, kneeling down next to the old man, pulling me with her. The scythe loomed high over us. “He’s…I need to…” She swallowed, and squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry.”

  I stared at our hands. “It’s okay.”

  “‘ain’t.” I blinked, and looked up. Old Jack, head still tilted, bloodshot eyes staring at me. “Ain’t okay,” he repeated, quietly. “This is it for Old Jack, I think. But you’ll be okay. You took care of everyone, right lad?”

  “Of course.” I reached forward, putting a gentle hand on Old Jack’s shoulder. “Rest up for now.”

  “Heh.” Old Jack slumped a bit further.

  I felt Isabella pull at my hands. I slowly let go, and pressed another hand over Jack’s. I watched as the scythe passed through the old man, leaving behind nothing but a body. “Gods bless you, Jack.”

  With David’s help, I carried the body out of the house. I could see the flow of more villagers emerge from hiding spots or return from the outskirts, moving with purpose back into town at some signal I’d missed. Several of the fishermen who’d been taken as hostages began bucket runs to the burning homes, coordinating with the same ease that they hauled in a big catch. A few handed over their buckets as soon as they laid eyes on David and I, joining in to ease our burden.

  Hours passed. For all that the threat of a bandit raid was a foreign one, the village responded with aplomb, moving through the village and fixing what we could. Fishermen armed with harpoons and hooks carefully searched every road and home for any straggling bandits. My mom and dad returned from the outskirts, escorted by Griff and a few dozen more who’d been able to escape to the hills. The few fires that had been set were extinguished, with only a few homes damaged more than a patch job could fix.

  But all that was set to the side as the dawn finally arrived, the rising sun peering over the piers of our home. The village had gathered here, the few stalls moved aside to make room. A few unfortunate villagers were too hurt to stand, so room was made at the front where they sat on blankets, tended to by a few matrons. I sat there at their insistence, feeling the dull pain in my chest thud against the cool paste of a poultice they had lathered on my skin.

  At the very front, two bodies laid on simple rafts.

  , I thought, watching as a team of men picked up Mr. Watch’s raft.

  “I’m sorry,” Isabella muttered.

  I blew out a breath, and stared up at the sky.

  “...So what comes next?”

  I considered Isabella’s question for a moment.

  “Nothing,” Isabella quickly denied. “I felt his soul when he was alive, but I couldn’t touch it. And when he was killed, that soul just…disappeared. There was nothing to collect.”

  . I frowned, thinking about Stag. The most powerful cultivator I’d ever personally fought, not even a Sect cultivator, who’d almost ripped me apart before the timely intervention of another, and there was nothing to show for his death.

  Isabella grimaced. “It was…strange. Everyone’s soul is usually vibrant and colourful. Even Stag’s was like that. But that old man’s, I felt like I was staring up at this looming, grey mountain. Something that you just see in the horizon, until an avalanche comes crashing down.” Isabella fiddled with the scythe in her hands, watching as Mr. Watch’s body was slowly lowered again by the villagers into the water. “I don’t really see cultivators that strong that often.”

  I remembered the brief flash of qi that had threatened to crush me.

  “And the sorts of people a cultivator like that kills is never a commoner.” Isabella paused for a moment, then laughed once. “Never just commoner, at least. I’ve had to take care of villages that existed in one moment and were gone the next.”

  I thought, watching as Mr. Watch was carried away by the river, his bearers wiping their faces and trading hugs as they walked back to join the village. Craig and a few others stepped forward, tears already running down the blonde man’s face. Still, they lifted the raft, and carried the body forward. I knew they’d be telling jokes about the old man, insulting him for being so inconsiderate. I knew they’d send the body onwards, with their wishes and hopes, so that he could pass on to his next life in peace.

  "I think you should follow the Elder," Isabella said.

  “Well, you’re a lot politer than that bandit was. Maybe if you catch up to him, you can ask-” Isabella thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No, nevermind. But maybe you could see where he’s . No offence, but it’d be a better heading than just to the ‘Big Sea’.”

  I watched as Old Jack’s body was gently set to rest in the water, the party of men holding onto the raft for a few moments more to say their last words. I felt a hand rest on my shoulder, and I turned to my dad who’d come to stand by me. After a moment, I leaned in against his leg, feeling so much younger for a moment.

  “You’re still leaving?” He eventually asked, kneeling down to sit next to me.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Alright,” my dad nodded. “Your mom was going to cook something up for you. I heard Aunty Jane had some cakes for you as well. And you know what Grandpa Gavin is like, he dropped off a new bag for you a few days ago.”

  I chuckled. “Of course.”

  My dad looked off to the river. “You’re gonna need some spending money on the way. I had some more yuan I’d saved that I was planning on sending with the next courier.” He fiddled with his hands for a moment. “It’s not just for big important things. Maybe a nice gift for Isabella. Or even just a bowl of rice.”

  I hugged my dad as the waters carried Old Jack away.