A Bloodstained Warrior

A flash of blue streaked through the air.

Red splattered onto the ground as Wu Li's glowing blue sword sliced through the neck of the cultivator in front of him. He lets out a deep breath as he kicks the body to the ground, his white and sky blue robes stained with blood.

Who would imagine that just two years ago, such a sight was enough to make him queasy enough to empty out his stomach? Now, it barely bothered him.

Seeing so much red everywhere though didn't do much for his dislike of the color. If anything, it made it worse.

All around him, dozens of other cultivators, dressed in white and blue robes just like his, were locked in combat with other cultivators dressed in black and red. It was obvious which side was winning, though. As blood splattered all over the ravine they were fighting in, the number of standing fighters dressed in darker colors was dwindling.

The fighting continued for only several more minutes before the only remaining fighters were the ones dressed in white and blue. The rest were either retreating, dead, or too injured to continue fighting.

Wu Li looked down at all the dead bodies littering the ground, a sorrowful look on his face.

He wasn't old at all, by any means. He had the appearance of somebody who was barely the age of twenty, as did everybody else around him.

They were all young men, barely adults. Yet here they were, either putting their lives on the line for their sects or having lost them for their sects.

A brutal reality, one that he had gotten very acclimated to over the past two years. Yet that was where he and many others just like him belonged in the eyes of his sect.

People like him whose talents and latent potential were just "average."

The Illuminated Sword Sect was a warrior sect. Its members weren't just expected to cultivate into all-powerful immortals, they were also expected to grow into powerful, dependable warriors who could fight back against the forces of the demonic sects and protect those living within the "righteous lands." They were the strictest of the three "righteous sects" and only expected the best of efforts and results from their members. However, inevitably, there would be those who didn't meet the standard.

Those were who the Illuminated Sword Sect sent directly to the front lines. To be the auxiliary forces, following the will and command of the more accomplished, more advanced members of the Sect.

Another cultivator walked up to him. Clasping his hands, he bowed respectfully before looking back up at him.

"Squadron leader Li, the excursion is a success," he says. "Reinforcements are inbound and will be here soon to secure the gorge. We are given permission to return to the camp."

Wu Li looked around.

The scene was a lot less frantic now. All of the remaining cultivators in his squadron were either scavenging the dead enemies' bodies for any precious items or mourning their dead companions.

"Tell them that we'll be returning back to camp in ten minutes," he says.

"Yes, squadron leader."

The command was promptly given out as Wu Li himself began to walk around the battlefield. The bloodied, glowing blue sword in his hand crumbled into many small blue particles rising and disappearing into the air.

|-|-|-|-|

Wu Li sighed as he fell backwards onto his bedroll, his back hitting the fabric.

His tent back at the military encampment was far from the peak of luxury. It was small, just big enough for him to fit a bedroll and a bit more space to wiggle around in. The bedroll wasn't exactly the most comfortable to sleep on, but it was better than sleeping on the rocky ground beneath it. Beside him were a few scrolls, though they were unopened. 

The young cultivator closed his eyes for a few silent moments. Then he opens them again, slowly getting up into a sitting position.

Crossing his legs, he lays his hands onto his knees and closes his eyes. His breath evens out.

Qi deprivation was a very serious problem amongst soldiers. It was very common for them to go all out for long periods of time while fighting, resulting in almost everybody involved being almost or completely drained of qi. Thus, sometime within a 24 hour period after a battle, it was imperative that all those involved stopped at some point to refill their qi sources. Without enough qi, their cultivation-enhanced bodies wouldn't have the ability to function and begin to break down.

It took him nearly four hours of silent, still meditation before his qi reserves were completely full once again. That was about the usual time it took for him to recover his qi considering that he was in mid-stage Foundation Establishment.

After his meditation, he opened his eyes, feeling completely replenished.

He stood up, stretching his arms and legs for a moment before leaving his tent.

The army encampment he was in was simply an array of identical tents spread all around the rocky ground. The only one that was different was a notably larger one, which was his commanding general's tent. The whole encampment was encapsulated within a translucent dome of red energy, the protection formation that protected the camp. A very solid formation that was impossible for anybody in a stage lower than late-stage Nascent Soul stage to break from the outside. Even against somebody in the late-stage Spirit Manifestation stage, the formation was strong enough to hold long enough for the commanding general to call for reinforcement and have an expert from the nearby city come over to help deal with the problem.

Under that formation, everybody felt safe. It was practically impenetrable and impossible to infiltrate by any known means. There wasn't a single sane man or woman in that camp who would rather go out into the battlefield than stay within the same confines of that formation.

As he stared up at the translucent dome, Wu heard the sound of footsteps approaching him from behind. He looks away from the formation and turns around to see a man (barely an adult, just like him) approaching him. The cultivator drops down onto his one knee, clasping his hands and bowing his head in respect.

"Squadron leader Li," he greeted. "The general wishes to speak with you."

Wu Li stared at the messenger for a moment as he felt a bit of dread settle into his stomach. 

The general almost always never called to talk with someone unless they did something very wrong.

He pondered what the reason for this summoning could be, but then decided it was pointless. Even if he knew, it wasn't like he could do anything to prepare for whatever it was his commander needed from him.

"Squadron leader Li accepts the summoning," Li says.

The messenger simply nods his head. He doesn't raise his head until he fully turns towards the direction of the commander's tent.