32-34

Chapter 32: Wrench in the Works

That night, Booker had one goal. Alchemy.

He had a materials box waiting from his quest to create a high-quality, low-toxicity pill. As he closed the door behind him and let his spirit pets take their posts up around the room, Booker kneeled down and summoned the ornate box from the floor.

It rose from a glowing golden stain on the floorboards, appearing first as a shape carved out of golden luminosity and then resolving into a solid object of rich, red-grained amber wood. The outer surface was carved with scenes of gods and cultivators and demons, but the scent was too enchanting to ignore for long, preventing him from getting lost in studying the tapestries depicting great battles and moments of enlightenment. As he pried off the lid, that scent intensified, threatening to overwhelm the cheap incense he was burning to keep his room from becoming unmistakably marked by an alchemical bouquet of sweet, exotic aromas.

Inside there were… treasures…

Booker was only just now learning to truly prize what the quests gave him. Every materials box was a treasure trove, and it was a shame two of them were beyond his current reach, gathering dust and losing potency in a corner of his shack in the city. Those definitely had opportunities he hadn't explored–

Focus on the present.

Don't overthink it….

He reassured himself as a slight edge of mania began creeping into his thoughts. He hadn't slept in days, and the hours spent awake were beginning to add up, even though his body and mind were totally refreshed by the sleep replacement pill. It was simply…

So much to keep going, hour after hour, without any rest or respite.

And if he didn't stop himself, he'd add even more to his plate, allowing tasks and duties to overwhelm him until he was pinballing aimlessly between them. Most people did – sooner or later, almost everyone got overwhelmed, lost the thread of what they were doing, and let their efforts go to waste, like rainwater sinking into porous ground and wasting the generosity of the heavens. But if he could find a moment of calm, he could recenter himself…

That's the power of the meditation state…

It's more than just allowing me to think clearly, with focus and speed.

No, it allows me to think without being chained down by worries and preconceptions. An eye of calm in the storm. A moment to think like I would, if I wasn't always stressed and overworked and trying to respond to fires in the heat of the moment.

It's a single point of infinite calm in an unsteady ocean, full of waves and discontent.

He closed his eyes, and felt the presence of the meditation state, already there, waiting for him to realize he'd stepped through that translucent barrier and into the state of pure focus. Waiting to be put to use. For a moment, the possibilities of his own mind stretched out before Booker.

The calm feeling of control set his soul at ease, soothing the aches of overwork.

And he opened his eyes again.

Lifting the first herb out of the box, he examined it.

Sanguine Amber

Intact // Earth Quality

The sanguine fir grows on long-deserted battlefields, holding lonely vigil. Every few years a branch will coalesce a droplet of red amber. This amber is precious in the extreme, as it contains boundless killing will.

Effects:

Longevity 1% (Earth)

Extreme Healing 1% (+)

Rage Inducing 50% (+)

Toxicity and Potency 25% (+)

That's a… powerful rage. In fact, it might actually be too extreme for most people. And overall, the only effect that doesn't need a match is Longevity, and all the matches are hard to find.

A valuable component but maybe I should think of alternate ways of using it, instead of as pill fodder.

Golden Palace Royal Ambrosia

Intact // Earth Quality

When certain bees expand their domain past a given size, the natural formations with the cells of wax and nectar direct the powers of heaven and earth, condensing them into an ambrosial honey.

Effects:

Qi Recovery 20% (+)

Soul Cultivation 1% (Day)

Treasure Sensing 20% (Earth)

Mutation 1% (+)

Soul Cultivation, Treasure Sensing, and Mutation…

This is a keeper. No, this is a definite find. Treasure Sensing was already what I was buying ingredients for.

Tideshaper Snailshell

Intact // Dull Quality

The shells of snails that exhibit a minor control over the tides, using tendrils of snaring water to drag creatures from the shore into a watery depth, becoming a feast for the slow predatory snails.

Effects:

Water Cultivation 5% (Water)

Longevity 1% (Water)

Beast Cultivation 10% (+)

Toxicity 10% (-)

Another chaff option. The best property here is water cultivation, which would be useful for someone trying to follow that path…

And longevity, a valuable property in any format…

No, it's best to say this isn't a chaff option at all, but a very powerful Dull pick that doesn't suit my current needs. The beast cultivation thread is my best harvest from this medicine…

I can use it as fuel for a watery spirit beast.

Fool's Pill

Intact // Dull Quality

When cultivators of the modern era first arrived in the Verdant Mist Valleys, they discovered these abundant seed-pods, which promised easy cultivation. Only the indigenous peoples warned them that the seeds would grow inside them, sapping their longevity to grow new trees from their bodies when they died.

Effects:

Cultivation Boost 20% (-)

Longevity Sapping 1% (-)

Beast Cultivation 20% (-)

Longevity Sapping 5% (-)

The next ingredient was a small seed-pod, the shape and size of a fig, with a narrow neck and round body that rattled with dry inner seeds. The outer rind was green and covered with backwards bending spikes. It was distinctly sinister, when you knew what Booker knew.

Considering it's such a slow killer, only sapping a little longevity, I don't even think I can use it as a poison. It doesn't have any qualities I could refine either. A pretty bad draw. Spirit beast fodder for sure.

Abyssal Squid Ink Sac

Extract // Earth Quality

The membrane around the organ the light from surrounding sky and earth, creating the ink within.

Effects:

Light Devouring 20% (-)

Additional Effect: Increase the effect of Light Devouring for each Night property in the ingredients. Lose all effect if any Day properties are included.

Light Devouring extract…

He lifted the enormous, completely black organ sac from inside the box, feeling ink press out of the thin membrane and drip sludge past his knuckles. It was large enough to provide several doses, taking up nearly a third of the locker-sized box.

This is definitely a bit of a strange ingredient, but I can work with it. Some simple binder with the Night property and a bit of Potency, and I think I can make an instant darkness pill…

Instantly the pages in his head began to flip past, revealing to him a half-dozen recipes for exactly that kind of pill. The most alluring used a Night property Maddening Scent effect to weave through a disorienting aura.

Mad Ox Musk Gland

Intact // Dull Quality

The gland of an ox maddened by the Frenzy. Contains traces of massive toxicity.

Effects:

Toxicity 50% (-)

Alluring Fragrance 15% (+)

Madness Inducing 25% (-)

Rage Inducing 25% (-)

Toxicity Effect: This ingredients toxicity properties are extremely difficult to remove through cutting techniques.

The next large object was fist-sized, flattish lump of organ meat shrouded in a caul of white fat and slippery, purple-red membrane.

Now this…

It lures beasts and drives them into a frenzy? I can do something with that.

And the Alluring Fragrance is a dead match for the Paintbrush of Omens.

Serpent's Lacrimal Gland

Extract // Earth Quality

Used by executioners to dull their emotions and forget the humanity of the meat they butcher. Effects can become permanent over time.

Emotion Dulling 10% (-)

Additional Effect: Additional Effect: Balance: Add 20% Toxicity and Potency. (If you have at least one complete elemental wheel for each ingredient with the Balance tag, you gain the Balance effect.)

Smaller and distinctly paler than the musk ox gland, Booker only spotted the bean-sized snake gland when it tumbled free of a roll of bone-white bark he was lifting up to examine.

Hmmm. The main effect is… distasteful, but might be useful for snapping myself out of a daze. I certainly don't want to think about the situations it would come in handy, but that doesn't mean they don't exist.

As for the Balance property, it's good, but a long way away. This one might just stay in storage for the time being…

As for the bark itself, it was a nice find for a simple reason…

Beggar's Bark

Intact // Dull Quality

Frequently used to make a thin soup known in the valley regions as starvation gruel, this bark both amplifies hunger and replaces the need for food.

Effects:

Toxicity 10% (-)

Food Replacement 20 % (Earth)

Allergic Reaction 10% (+)

Toxicity and Potency 5% (+)

Additional Effect: Enhanced metabolism. Mildly increases the effectiveness of spiritual food.

It's another Earth-aligned ingredient…

I think I have enough to fully commit to it – my next spirit beast will be earth-aligned. As for the Sanguine Amber, that's the only thing I'll leave out. It's valuable as pill materials, and I don't want an uncontrollable beast for this. I want the delicacy and intelligence I got with Snips.

Moving the squid ink gland to his desk and placing it on a cloth to soak up the leaking ink, he took the beggar's bark, the royal ambrosia, and in a last moment decision grabbed the fool's pill as well for an extra kick of potency. Sadly, a lot of his other herbs were still out of reach, in the apartment Booker had kept in the city. With time running short before the moon rose and the spirit beast refining process had to begin, there was no time to retrieve them.

Instead Booker set about preparing everything he had to the best of his ability. He laid them out on a cutting board, but he didn't reach for the shiny new alchemist's knife on his belt, or the old kitchen blade that had left so many scratches and scrapes on the cutting board.

The Lao-Hain man had said his cutting technique lacked spirituality with the knife. On instinct, Booker knew that was because he'd abandoned the blade he felt a connection to, the blade his master had given him, after killing Hu Bao. But…

I had to. Even if I'd kept that knife, I'd broken the ideology of pacifism that gave it to me…

That knife meant something because it came from a man who thought about alchemy, and cultivation, spirituality and life… Because it represented something, something I wish I could believe in too…

But I don't really have it in me to follow that path…

I can't give up.

This dream of cultivation has me gripped, and saying now that growing old and quietly studying alchemy is enough, that I can be a humble and kind person and be satisfied at heart, when other people decide my fate and the fate of the world around me…

No.

I'm not humble, is the truth. I want to win.

And going down that route… it feels like giving up.

My old life was… happy, I suppose…

But how often have I even thought about it since coming here?

Cultivation…

Maybe I ended up here because it was always somewhere inside me, that arrogance. That belief in myself that goes beyond reason.

My connection to the knife, to alchemy, isn't the old man's way, a path of non-violence and healing. But it's not Zheng Bai's way either.

My spirituality…

The thing I feel most about alchemy…

It's control. It's the safety, the sanctuary, of being in absolute control. Knowing absolutely what to do, how my hands should move, what herbs I need, what their effects combined will be. The book has gifted me an incredible talent, and it's not pride I feel, but safety.

I never feel in control – I've felt like a pinball being sent flying from one extreme situation to another from day one – except when I'm practicing my alchemy.

It brings me peace.

"Dialyze."

He held out his hands, and summoned forth a disc of floating water, swirling slowly as spiral ripples shivered through the crystal clear surfaces. The purpose of Dialyze was to cut – to cut with water, to divide and separate between things. As he rotated the water faster and faster, the stillness of the outer surface became complete even as he drew the edges out thinner and thinner, until they were frothed white with furious speed.

With a flick of his hand he bent the circle into an uneven bow shape, and sliced the beggar's bark apart with the ease of a hot knife passing through butter. There was no resistance whatsoever, the water simply bending around the surface it touched and spraying off a faint mist of vaporized water as it sawed through in a heartbeat. That should have meant he had no delicacy, no sense of touch to guide the movements of the water knife…

But it was just the opposite. He could feel, when he closed his eyes, the exact shape of the blade. The exact and microscopic grains of the surface it sawed through were laid bare for him to judge, cutting to within a hair's fraction of the exact depth he chose.

And it was more than that. Leaving the cut beggars bark out on the table, Booker stepped outside and gathered some poison purging grasses from the garden. Dirt clung to their stringy roots as he pulled them out of the ground.

But with a wave of his hand, cold water washed over them, peeling away the dirt with that same microscopic precision. It scoured perfectly, washing everything clean.

Next he drew that water into a spiral, and tested another application of the water blade. The grass had a tough outer stalk that needed to be peeled. Normally, a blade had to have a set curve but since he could adjust the water as he chose, he could simply wrap the knife in a perfect spiral ribbon of water winding around the grass' outer stem…

And cut the entire pith-white center out in one smooth pull.

Booker grinned silently, letting the crystalline blade of water dissipate. Despite his victories, a clear empty sensation was beginning to emerge in his chest, like something was being drank up greedily to manifest the water with such precision and speed.

But I understand now…

Furnace is obvious…

And Dialyze is my knife.

I've been given all the tools I need.

And it has the supreme spiritual connection to me, because it's part of me, a manifestation of a cold, water-touched soul…

The cuts he'd made were razor-smooth, without any kind of ragged edge. It was clean and efficient. Booker couldn't help but flex his fingers and feel the soft joy that doing 'magic' would always bring him, a reminder that this world was full of wonders he'd always appreciate, having come from a land without any kind of miracle to call its own.

There was a knock at the door, snapping him out of the meditation state once more. He blinked and realized how deeply he'd been in thought for the last hour, phasing in and out of the meditation state for a minute or a few seconds at a time.

Making sure not to open the door so wide that anything but his bed in the corner could be seen, he peered out cautiously, and then stepped out into the hallway. One of Caihong's lackeys had come to deliver the ingredients he'd won in his gambling match – the ingredients for a Treasure Seeking pill, and the blood of a suitable beast contained in a glass vial.

Exchanging thanks and tipping the delivery boy five liang, Booker stepped back inside. Taking a heavy earthenware jar that had been holding dead flowers sometime in Rain's past, he set it on the center of the floor. With ink on his finger he traced out the same runes and designs that he had used when creating Snips, surrounding the jar with a strange script of runic characters that squirmed across the floorboards.

Froggie and Snips gathered at the edge of the design, looking apprehensively at the jar. Booker supposed they must have recognized the ritual.

Into the jar, he poured the finely-cut beggars bark, the ambrosial honey, and the ingredients for the treasure sensing pills.

If this works like I hope…

The beast that's born from this will be able to sense treasure a mile away.

Finally, he cut his hand and grimaced as the blood dripped free from his clenched fist. Popping his last wound closing pill into his mouth, Booker held back the groan of pain until the flesh had knit shut, leaving a second shiny pink line across his palm in an 'x' with the first.

As soon as the blood made contact with the monstrous blood within, the mixture began to shiver, foam, and bubble. Living tendrils of shiny, jet-black material rose up and petrified in place, becoming a hard, coral-like foundation. The base writhed with white suds and black, deep slime, but squarish lumps of smooth edged black material like a fine obsidian were rising up, and soon, the outer layer was totally solid.

It didn't totally resemble the process that had eventually yielded Snips, but Booker wasn't at all worried. He'd actually been looking forward to this experiment – and with further testing what did and didn't work when it came to spirit beasts.

To take Snips as an example, then… He was created with a top class technique, a good sample of blood, and some of my own, mixed with various toxic reagents.

The technique and the blood are the same here…

Does that mean the hardening is from the Earth-typed ingredients I added? It would make perfect sense.

I think I added a good deal more reagents to Snips, though… We'll have to see whether that results in a weaker creature…

Marking these thoughts for later, as if he was inscribing them on blank pages within the green book, he returned to the other study he was making with this time. The study of the meditation state.

Today had been a good day on multiple fronts.

I definitely beat my old best time tonight.

Actually…

I kept slipping in and out of meditation state, but that didn't seem to be a problem. In fact, as long as I stayed reasonably focused and mentally prepared for the focus state to return, once I catch ahold of it I seem to be able to return again and again…

Moreover, with each return, I stayed in the state a little longer…

The overall shape was something like a bell curve, with brief moments of focus at the beginning and end, and unbroken stretch of nearly two minutes at the center. So if that's true…

Instead of directly trying to force the window of meditation to grow larger, I should focus on trying to access it fluidly, many times over, and let that naturally extend how long the meditation lasts.

But…

If an hour of slipping in and out of focus got me to a little less than two minutes…

What would reaching an hour take? Is that even possible?

Considering it, he shook his head. Maybe that was why old masters seemed to spend days or weeks away from the Sect, meditating in silent isolation. Maybe they were chasing increasingly large windows of the meditation state, in the hopes of seeing through their cultivation's final flaws.

Frankly, he'd assumed that was some weird esoteric bullshit he'd never understand but–

He was beginning to respect the willpower it must take.

With the spirit beast foundation bubbling and boiling away, Booker moved to his desk, addressing the massive squid organ-sac lying on the cloth. Transferring it to a bowl, he took up the kitchen knife and split the outer skin apart with its point, sliding his hand down as points of black swelled up behind the knife's path. The ink poured out, but the veiny skin was left behind.

Taking that, he divided it four ways, chopping apart the rubbery, half-see-through gray meat with the palm of his hand on the back of the blade.

Once he had four generous segments, he put one aside to be stored for later, and diced each of the remaining three into a slippery portion of rice-paper-thin shavings. Mixing in a dash of bonemeal, he rolled them into balls with the palm of his hand. Already the blackness of the remaining ink – the book suggested in this pill's recipe to leave a trace behind instead of fully washing the membrane – was sinking into the mealy gray surface of the pill.

"Furnace." Blue flame billowed from his palm, his hair fluttering back as blue light illuminated the space.

When it cleared, the pills had hardened into glossy black spheres each the size of a fingernail. Booker picked one up, the surface still hot, and crushed it experimentally between his fingers. Instantly a black depth of space expanded, like the night sky was suddenly contained within his apartment. Total blackness, deep and starless and consuming, filled the space and obscured every aspect. There were no silhouettes, no sense of anything but the position of his hands and the security of the floor underfoot.

Sky-Devouring Darkness Pill

5% Potency // 4% Toxicity

Effect:

Instantly consumes the surrounding area with darkness when crushed.

Ingredients:

Abyssal Squid Ink Sac

Beast Bone Meal

"Stay calm everyone." Booker said, as he heard Froggie start to croak in panic.

After a moment the darkness ebbed. Silhouettes faded in, then solid shapes, finally colors. Light slowly bled through the black.

When things were back to normal he carefully packed the remaining two darkness-bombs into a roll of gauze, placing them in his bag alongside the grenades and satchel of blinding powders.

That's one surprise to keep in my back pocket.

He stretched, pacing around the room with his hands in his robes. He had an idea of what trouble he could get up to tonight, and his better sense was telling him to stay out of it. To have a relaxing night in…

Quest: Repairing Your Life

Goal: Create a Seven-Times Purified Charcoal Pill and use it to repair your poisoned body.

Reward: Materials Box

Quest: Break the Thread

Goal: End Zheng Bai's Influence Over You

Reward: Materials Box.

Quest: A Birthright Recovered

Goal: Reclaim Rain's heritage amulet at the auction in 3 days.

Reward: Materials Box.

Quest: Right the Wrong

Goal: Hunt the Murderer Behind the Boy in the Wall.

Reward: Materials Box.

Quest: Rendering the Fat

Goal: Extract valuable materials from 5 (5/5) beasts or monsters.

Reward: Karmic Pill.

Quest: Purification of the Body.

Goal: Eat nothing but spiritual food for 7 (7/7) days.

Reward: 10-Hour Practice Token.

Quest: Conquer the Stone

Goal: Break 1 (0/1) of the practice stones used by the cultivators to test their strength.

Reward: Karmic Pill

Quest: Recover the Hospital Deed

The hospital's land rights have been lost on a wager at the Pearl Gambling House. Recover them.

Reward: Master Page

One last thing…

The karmic pill.

He held his hand to the desk, and a small golden patch of light appeared, the hexagonal box rising up out of the luminous stain before the light faded away.

It was carved with eight demons, and out of black ash wood.

As he opened the box a velvety red scent of licorice wafted out.

Sin Purgation Pill

31% Potency // 17% Toxicity

Effect:

Forces sins and heart demons out of the body. Acts as a laxative.

Ingredients:

Judgment Thorn Apple

Gu-Bred Red Centipede

Cloud Liquor

Pureheart Oak Blossom

A laxative? Booker grimaced intensely.

Karmic pills huh. This is two times I've spun the roulette wheel and landed on something nasty – it's starting to not feel like an accident.

Lifting out the gray-white pill, which was swirled between the two colors like a marble and grained with a faint rough texture, Booker examined it.

Judgement Thorn Apple. Gu-Bred Red Centipede. Cloud Liquor. Pureheart Oak Blossom.

One by one, the pages came to mind. Each of these, every ingredient, was a rare and precious elixir in its own right. The ingredients were simply so valuable…

Maybe I should break it down with Dialyze. I could make something interesting…

But assuming these two draws aren't just bad luck...

Maybe there's something I need this for. The crucible pill… It helped me take my bodily strength to the next level.

Frowning, he dropped the pill into a bamboo vial and stored it away. He was building up quite a supply of interesting alchemical tricks – powders, poisons, and pills. Not to mention the odd grenade. There was something reassuring about having so many tools at his disposal.

Taking the grasses he'd gathered from the garden for their poison purging properties, he diced the inner white of the stalks and crushed it down to a rough, fibrous pulp with the blade's flat. Now he mixed in other antidotal herbs from the markets, dicing and grinding and finally muddling the the two together in a thick stone mortar, until there was a white-peppered green paste, wet and grainy.

With this mixture he made his next set of pills. Six lustrous, beetle-green oblong pills.

Poison Spitting Pill

12% Potency // 2% Toxicity

Effect:

Causes the body to instantly reject poisonous elements. Effective only for a few seconds before the poison is too deeply distributed to be returned.

Ingredients:

Rude Nettle

Saw-Edged Wiregrass

Beast Bone Meal

Collecting them into another vial, Booker drummed his fingers on the table.

The idea was gaining traction in his mind.

It was a dangerous idea…

But letting Zheng Bai's toadies walk all over him…

No, letting Zheng Bai always have the choice of when and where to pick her fights, while he was totally reactive, getting surprised and taken off guard every time…

That was no way to live.

He needed to throw a wrench in her works, one she couldn't attribute to him.

Booker turned back to Snips and Froggie and said, "Keep watch over all this stuff for me, okay?" Keeping the herbs in his room couldn't be a long term solution, but right now, he didn't have anywhere better to hide the precious materials for his alchemy. Leaving the two of them as guards was a decent compromise.

As he stepped out into the hallways it was late, and many disciples were either making their way home or leaving to go get drunk in the bustling city beyond. Booker kept his head down and made his way slowly to the alchemy labs, where he had practiced with Master Ping.

It felt like a long time ago.

As he waited for a gaggle of apprentices to finish leaving, the only other people in the workshop were a few teachers and apprentices laboring to finish up some project or another…

Well…

Most people would have only seen them. Booker saw the crippled attendant raking the ashes out of the furnaces into wooden buckets. While others worked, completely ignoring the presence of the ash-sweeper among them, Booker's eyes followed the cripple through the room.

When he lifted both buckets onto a yoke and carried them out, Booker followed him from a distance.

It has been a while…

But the binder Zheng Bai used for her Blue Heaven Pills, is alchemical ash.

Where else would she be getting it?

At an unseen distance, he watched in a darkened cattle yard where an oxen was being hitched up to a cart. Other attendants were loading ash-filled buckets covered by cloths onto that cart, bound for a disposal in some garbage dump where the toxic substance wouldn't poison the Sect's meticulously cleaned earth and water.

But it never makes it there…

As the wagon rumbled out onto the streets, Booker vaulted a wall, fully disguised as the masked alchemist. He followed them by side paths and winding alleyways, until they went through a gate and out of the city. Booker followed, wandering through the warm, firelit streets and the crowds of eager people pushing their way into Mantis City.

Outside, the scene was darker. Hills rose in the velvet midnight beyond any glimmer of fire, blending into the night as if they were cut from the same cloth as the space between stars. Fir trees bent their whip-thin branches and rattled their tiny green blades in the wind.

Halfway to the dumping grounds, the wagon halted.

Three figures stepped out of the darkness, wearing rough-cut clothes and work boots, carrying knives and hatchets on their belts. They could easily have been bandits, looking at their ugly and scarred faces through the flashes of firelight provided by a lantern in one of their hands.

But they greeted the cripple with familiarity – "Quiet night?"

"We're being followed." The man said.

Booker had already stepped out of the treeline – he knew he'd be caught as soon as they left the city and the safety of the crowds. In his hands, he held a grenade. His thumb was pressed to the wick…

There was a second and a half on that wick, precisely.

"Who are you, then? Scared to show your face but brave enough to fuck with us, that's a thin line. I'm betting you ain't on it – I'm betting you had no idea who you were fucking with." The head of them sneered, taking in the mask and the dark attire. He tilted a head and brought a scar-knuckled hand up to the sword on his belt. "I'm telling you to piss off now."

"I know who you are." Booker said. Fire flicked up on his thumb, lighting the wick and bringing their eyes to the grenade. He saw the instant math going on behind their gazes – terrified little minds putting together the fact that they were standing next to a wagon full of toxic, volatile ash. "I'm telling you – run."

And as he flung the grenade towards the wagon, all five of them scattered in opposite directions.

Chapter 33: Zhi-Zhi

The explosion lifted a dome of flame.

Booker ran through the night, feeling the explosion rise behind him, the flare of light flashing across the trees and illuminating the branches, the wave of force knocking him forward into a brutal stumble that he caught and recovered, running on.

He only needed to reach the town gates before Zheng Bai's thugs would have to hesitate. And they were far behind him, scattered by the explosion and only just beginning to recover their balance. He'd warned them on purpose, giving them every chance to survive, but being that close to the blast would likely have shattered their inner ears and beaten the unholy shit out of their bodies.

But I have to hope they don't have any cultivators…

Even if they do, I can use my Furnace and Dialyze – but that will mean killing again.

If I'm backed into a corner…

Will I do it?

These people aren't children like Hu Bao.

But the question was moot. Either the thugs have a cultivator, or they'd been caught by the blast and were in no shape to pursue. As he turned the corner of the road twisting around the forest – there was the outskirts of the crowd coming through the gates, farmers and merchants all waiting for admission into the late night markets, wine-soaked restaurants, and boisterous attitudes of the city.

Booker darted between them, weaving through the crowd. People were standing and staring aghast at the remains of the fire burning out into smoke across the darkened sky, tangling with the silhouette of the pale moon.

From behind him he heard a shout, and looked back to see a man on a horse trying to fight his way through the crowd. The man's face was one of the three from the road, plus a nasty burn that seared across his lower jaw, taking the corner of his mouth. With a wooden club in hand, he was whipping people out of the way to urge his horse through the crowd, fighting to progress.

Booker took that as his cue to run where the crowd was thickest, and the horse would struggle to follow. As he weaved under wagons and jumped over carts, the bandit let out a strangled shout and dropped down from horseback, pushing after Booker as the crowd parted in fear.

But it was too late.

Too late by far.

Guards were already coming streaming down from the gates, fighting their own way through the tight-packed front of the line. They wore the blue-and-gold uniforms of the city guard, with broad-brimmed blue hats that dangled cords of gold-and-red beads down besides their ears. They carried long halberds, using the blunt shafts to strike people out of the way as they advanced.

In moments they had closed into formation in a circle around the thug. With a shout, they lowered their halberds and locked him within a ring of pointed blades.

Others were moving to put the faster, more agile Booker into the same situation.

But Booker simply reached into his pockets, getting his fingers around the second darkness pill. Here goes nothing… And he cracked the pill apart with the nail of his thumb. Shouts erupted as the world was drowned in darkness

By the time that darkness cleared, there was no masked doctor to find. Only, a little ways away and blending into the crowd, a lowly cripple of the Sect.

Nobody looked at him twice.

Booker simply walked back into the city as the guards waved him past, mask and cloak secure inside his bag. Behind him, the guards were shouting and the thug's face – when he glanced back – was red with silent fury.

This only needs to distract Zheng Bai…

Get her off my back, and keep her busy hunting the masked man.

Just long enough for me to finish my business…

As far as moves go, this was big and bold enough they wouldn't connect it to a cripple.

No, I should be hearing less from Zheng Bai for the next week or two…

— — —

The trip back to the Sect was uneventful, and Booker spent the remaining hours of the night peacefully resting, closing his eyes and lying back and letting that count as sleep. The excitement of the midnight raid had placed an extra stress on him, and the relentless schedule he was keeping through his sleep replacement pill was beginning to add up.

I can do this for two more days, sure, until the exam and the auction are over…

But any longer than that and I risk letting toxicity build up, among other effects.

Sleep replacement pills could cause mania, recklessness, and overconfidence if you used them too heavily. This wasn't actually an effect of the pill – it was the mind breaking down without the sanctuary of sleep, without a time to rest and dream.

Booker didn't feel tired exactly…

He felt stretched thin, like there was too much time and too little of him to go around.

But the sun rose regardless, and the morning bell rung the same time it always did, reverberating through the orange-pink dawnlight of the sky. Booker groaned and sat up, scratching at the line of his hair and glancing wearily around his room.

As he did, he was greeted by the gentle crunch and crackle of breaking eggshells, as the jar in which he'd created his new spirit beast began to break apart, something beneath pushing up against the sides until they shattered from within. The beast spilled out in a tide of dark, amber-colored fluid, briefly lying like a ball of soaked fur on the ground before slowly lifting itself up onto its feet and shaking itself off like a dog.

It was a mole. Small, totally eyeless, and covered in pudgy handles of dark black fur of the finest and sleekest variety. It's legs were small and stumpy, closer to flippers, with paddle-shaped hands extending into a splay of little bladed claws for digging – almost swimming – through the earth. On the ground, forced to stand rather than swim, it looked faintly ridiculous, which wasn't helped by the fact it had a totally alien nose.

The beast's nose was a pig-like snout that extended out into small, delicate spikes of soft flesh, all of a delicate pink color. Booker knew this kind of beast from encyclopedias back on earth – a star nosed mole, which used those spikes of flesh to feel for vibrations in the earth and hunt down its prey, compensating for total lack of sight.

He reached down and helped the little fellow onto his palm, taking a bit of cloth and dabbing off the amber fluid. By the time he finished the little guy had fallen asleep, laying sideways on the flat of Booker's hand and snoring gently. Snips flew up to see him, peering quizzically down from balancing on the tip of Booker's thumb and examining his brother.

Booker could read Snips' thoughts. This little creature was small, awkward, and odd.

But Booker couldn't say he agreed. As he gently scratched the snoring mole on the nose, its little paws gripped at his fingertip. Grinning, Booker lowered the little guy into his satchel, where Froggie was already waiting and guarding his collections of medicines and pills. Snips buzzed down inside, and altogether, they left for the cafeteria.

As the cripples lined up to eat, Booker collected his bowl of congee and ate with the others, listening to the low buble of gossip and keeping his ears perked up for any mention of his midnight escapade. But most of what he heard was about the Grasshopper's Examination and, even more exciting, the Entrance Exam.

Right…

I'm not the only one going through the wringer right now. There are dozens of youths gathering to try and fight their way into the Sect – and only the smallest, most talented portion of them will be allowed in, while the rich and connected plant their children among them.

In a given month, only a dozen or so youths would be accepted. Sometimes, there were months where not a single new novice was accepted.

At the time Rain had arrived in this city – it was clear he'd never be among them. Still, his mother had somehow managed to leverage the fact his grandfather was the City Lord of a now-destroyed city to secure an invitation.

As Booker stirred up his congee and took a clump in his chopsticks, there was a rustling from his bag, and the little mole poked its strangely-shaped nose up. It sniffed the air and let out a lazy yawn, showing two small teeth above and below.

"You want some little buddy?" Booker's other pets didn't much care for congee, but he was happy to share, lowering the food down to his bag so the mole could sniff it. "I still haven't given you a name."

Without hesitation, the mole's head fully wiggled out of the pack's lids and its awkward paws seized the clump of steaming-hot congee, chewing it up in seconds. But as soon as it was gone, the little beast began squeaking again. It tried to climb up Booker's robe, clumsily leaping off his shoulder onto the table and scrambling straight for the bowl.

"Nuh uh." Booker caught it with his chopsticks, dragging the little mole back as its paws struggled at the air. "I can see you're going to be trouble, little guy."

Putting the mole down a little ways from the bowl, he let it go–

And immediately the same scene played out. It went straight for his porridge, and he was forced to drag it back, squeaking and struggling.

It took three times before the mole got the point and flopped forward, exhausted. Booker gave it a clump of congee. "Here. I'm not trying to starve you, but you have to control yourself."

As the little creature chewed on its feast, there was a delighted cry. "Is that a new spirit beast?!" Sister Mei dropped into the seat beside him, looking at the tiny cute mole with fascination. "It's so tiny! And it has such a weird nose!"

Sheesh, Sister Mei. You're going to give the poor guy confidence issues.

Indeed, the mole let out a defeated squeak, like its soul was leaving its body. It only recovered when Sister Mei ladled out another lump of congee for it to gobble up.

"You've made another masterpiece, Brother Rain! He's really cute!" Sister Mei exclaimed.

"I just hope he's not always this hungry." Booker said, giving the little fellow a side-eye. Somehow the mole had nearly devoured its own bodyweight in the last few seconds. And it didn't seem like he was slowing down.

"Does Sister Mei want the honor of naming him?" Booker asked, reaching down to scratch the creature's chin and the stalk of his long nose.

"Zhi-Zhi!" She declared.

"Does that meet with your approval, little fellow?" The tiny creature was clutching Booker's fingertip and refusing to let him stop scratching a spot below its chin, its whole head hanging drunkenly as it chirped and purred. Booker turned to Sister Mei. "He certainly seems content with it."

Snips, Froggie, and Zhi-Zhi. It fits.

"Thank you Sister Mei. The world is a brighter place for your wisdom." Booker agreed.

"Hhhhaaa, you're the only one of us who's seeing the bright side lately. I hate examination days." Sister Mei crossed her arms and sighed, leaning back in her chair.

"Oh?"

"I always think – if I'd chosen a different route in life – I'd be happily married by now." She admitted. "But now I have this– this–" Her hand waved over the blue lines of the cripple's brand.

"Sister Mei…" The cripple's life is truly wrong for you. It's comfortable in some ways, but you'll always work, and you'll always be looked down on. For someone who dreams of being looked up to, respected, adored… It's almost a death sentence for the soul. "It pains me to see you so down."

"Ha. Think nothing of it." She shook her head. "But I worry for these kids taking the test. They have their whole lives ahead of them – but how many of them will regret joining the Sect?"

Booker grimaced.

Rain…

Would he have been happier if his life took a different turn? If he was never accepted, and never branded a failure?

Dipping his chopsticks into his congee, he shook his head. "They're chasing a dream. Even if that dream breaks apart someday, and there's nothing left underfoot but air, the fall isn't as bad as a dreamless life. I know what you mean Sister Mei… but I can't bring myself to tell them to turn away."

It's patronizing, is what it is. They know the risks…

The truth is, Rain had a dream his whole life, and he fought as hard as he knew how to make that dream come true.

And I feel it too…

Maybe more than any other part of him, Rain's memory of that dream has survived in me. I've seen the intensity and the longing he felt towards cultivation. He would never have been happy with anything less. Even now, his dream is infectious – I remember how much it illuminated my life, and I can't help but want to feel that same wild longing…

That same feeling of striving for the impossible.

You can say he didn't lead a happy life. But he fought for it…

What would Rain think about Hu Bao? About midnight masquerades and meddling with Zheng Bai, mouthing off to cultivators, about magical books and alchemy and being on my way to my own cultivation?

Booker didn't need to ask, of course. He already knew.

It would have been his dream come true. So don't you dare complain…

The thought made him happy, somehow. The reminder that the dream he was chasing, he had truly shared with another person, and could carry on in their stead. It made him feel almost immortal as he cleaned out his bowl of porridge, washed up with the other cripples, and said his goodbyes to Sister Mei.

The hallways of the Sect were bustling at this hour, full of disciples and novices going between the training halls, dining chambers, and their own apartments. In the courtyards between, where pleasant trees had by now lost their leaves to the winter's growing chill, and flowers were beginning to shrivel, cripples were planting slabs of rare sunlight-infused granite to keep the ground warm and let the plants survive hibernating through the winter months.

Not that months here mean the same thing…

Technically, the local calender was split into twenty-seven units instead of twelve, and the winter was longer than the other three seasons combined. The Mountain-Gate World was simply too far from its own sun to be truly a prosperous and summery world. Instead, the wildlife was forced to retreat into underground caverns to shelter beneath the earth each winter, or be frozen alive in the deadly chill.

Humans were one of the few species that remained on the surface year-round. This was accomplished by the City Lords – here in Mantis City, the City Lord's preferred strategy was to bury sun-gathering formations into the stone foundations to keep the city heated from below. Out in the wilds, in more rural and threadbare towns, City Lords would simply fill stones with sunlight qi and distribute them to each household.

When he arrived at the laboratory Wei Qi was already there, and the furnace was burning, filling the cold chambers of the Sect's corridors with a rosy heat Booker could feel even before he opened the door.

He nodded to Wei Qi, moving past him to examine the manuscripts of yesterday's experiments.

Greenmoon had used his strange many-lensed device to provide definite readings, both of the process and the results, taking hours to pore over the ill-refined chunks of ash left behind when the procedure failed, analyzing their malformation.

This is actually quite clever work…

And the handwriting… did Greenmoon do this himself?

I guess the old goat really does have horns.

With these calculations, I really can't put off finishing the technique much longer. A day or two if I'm lucky, enough to wrap up other business, but then I'll have to show results or Greenmoon will step in himself.

The basis of the refinement process was purification of the elements. Impure, lower tier alchemical ingredients, if they carried elemental properties at all, had extremely minor ones. A koi's heart might contain a trace of watery qi, but it was only the water of silent and peaceful ponds where the sun dappled the waters. Connecting that mild and impure qi back to its source, the raging heart of water, was a process that could be achieved by removing other elements that were muddying the qi, or feeding into the elemental energies it already possessed.

It looks like Greenmoon has already identified the basic elements present.

"'The qi involved are the qis of evil-banishing salt, sacrificial fat, fires burned for ceremony, and crude stone tools. These culminate in the qi energies of ancient sacrificial rites to the earth gods.'" Booker read. "Greenmoon is no slouch, eh?"

Wei Qi nodded. "I can't say I'm totally surprised by it anymore. He's got a demon in his eyes when he wants something done."

"Our beloved Instructor is definitely no hoity-toity character with his nose in the clouds." No he's sniffing around for profit on the earth like a bloodhound… "In any case, brother, you have one less worry on your back today. I talked to Tong Chen."

Wei Qi's eyes rose hopefully. "I… can't thank you enough. This whole thing is embarrassing, and I can only rely on my seniors to guide me through it."

Translation: I've never had to dive into the deep end of the Sect's criminal life.

"It's nothing to mention again. But I need to tell you, you'll have to do a little digging yourself if you want to get out of this trap." Booker warned.

"Of course, of course."

"Basically, I told Tong Chen to lay a bet on me at the Pearl Gambling House. There's a contest for spirit beasts going on tonight, and since I can't leave the Sect, I need you to take my beasts to the ring." He set his satchel bag on the counter and opened it up, expecting to find the trio of spirit beasts looking up at him.

Instead he found Snips, alone. The mantis gave a sheepish wave of its claws.

Peering down into the bag with his brow furrowed, Booker soon saw the daylight shining out of a hole in the corner where Zhi-Zhi must have dug his way out. Lifting his head and turning back, he saw Froggie and Zhi-Zhi had made it halfway to the shelves of ingredients. Froggie was sitting atop Zhi-Zhi, who was squirming and struggling and throwing a tantrum. Froggie did not look happy.

Nor for that matter was Booker. He put his hand to his head, sighing. This little guy, Zhi-Zhi, he's spirited alright. But he's completely food focused!

When he turned back Wei Qi was looking doubtful. "Aren't they a little small? The beasts who fight at gambling houses, they're spirit beasts grown to the size of cats and dogs."

"Snips is the only one who'll need to fight." Booker reassured, but even then, Wei Qi's face was a pained grimace.

"Elder brother!" He abruptly bowed. "I'm sorry, but I can't do this! I can't be sure your spirit beasts will obey me, and if I go and get them slaughtered, how will I face you again? This… I understand you can't leave the Sect, but surely there's someone else you can send."

Booker just put a hand on his shoulder. "Snips, do three spirals around Wei Qi's head."

With a blur of pink wings and purple carapace, Snips spun three fast spirals around Wei Qi. The boy's eyes followed. "Land on his head." Before Wei Qi's eyes could widen, Snips was standing atop his head. "Now…"

He stepped back.

"Wei Qi give him a command!"

"Uh, uh…" Fretting nervously, Wei Qi said… "Land on the third bottle down on the left bench!"

Snips shot gracefully off the top of his head, landing on the bottle and turning around, his bent scythe-claws twitching and his dark eyes watching.

"What a smart spirit beast!" He let out.

"You don't need to worry. Not only will Snips obey your commands, but he's a fighter with his own mind. Once he gets into the arena, he'll handle himself." Booker promised. "If Snips looks outmatched… then just withdraw and I'll suffer the consequences."

"I… I have my reservations, but I also have trust in elder brother." Wei Qi reluctantly agreed.

"As for the others, Froggie is a soldier, but the new one is… eh, he's giving me some trouble." Booker admitted. "So I'll take him out and give him some training, while you handle things here for now. I trust you with that. Maybe… Greenmoon mentions the qi of stone tools, so maybe try going through the whole thing using only stone tools?"

Wei Qi nodded, much more confident in his abilities here. "I can try. I was thinking, I could get some fat and butter from the temple bulls tomorrow. They'll be slaughtering soon with winter coming up."

Internally, Booker sighed. Wei Qi, why do you have to be so damned useful… when I'm desperately trying to slow this project down?

Walking over to Zhi-Zhi and Froggie, he picked them up, holding Zhi-Zhi by the scruff of his neck as his paddle-shaped paws dangled, like a disobedient kitten.

"Okay, little fellow… Maybe I need to set some rules." The eyeless, eldritch-nosed gaze of Zhi-Zhi stared up at him. "I can't have you escaping to steal food and ingredients. Right now, I'm worried you'll eat my pills…" If Froggie and Snips hadn't been there to stop you, that probably would have happened before I'd even realized.

"But I'm not a villain, or here to deprive you of anything. I think you'll have a better time with me than without me – I have plenty of food, plenty of medicine, and best of all, plenty of pills. You can't make pills, can you?"

Zhi-Zhi's nose twitched at the mention of pills.

"Mhm. But I can. If you do good for me, I'll make you plenty of tasty pills, and help you cultivate." Just because I can't progress down the road of cultivation, doesn't mean all these cultivation materials have to go stale and waste their potency. I can feed Snips, Froggie, and Zhi-Zhi enough spiritual cultivation medicines to let them progress quickly – as only spirit beasts can.

Zhi-Zhi was definitely listening now.

"Come on." Lifting Zhi-Zhi and Froggie onto his shoulders, he left the lab, heading for the open green spaces of the outer courtyards. There, disciples practiced their cultivation in sparring matches as groups of hangers-on and toadies drank wine and observed, calling out encouragement.

Booker found a quiet corner with many trees, and let Zhi-Zhi scramble down his shoulder. "Okay… Why don't you show me what you can do?"

The mole looked up at him quizzically, wrinkling its nose.

Ah, please don't be a fluke… Trying to keep his hopes high, Booker tried, "Is there anything special you can do?"

The mole remained silent.

"Okay, well, how do you get food?"

The mole looked up at Booker.

"Mmm." Booker hummed. "Well how about this…" He took out a Mountain-Recovery Pill. "This… is a bribe. Show me your best trick and we'll see if you're worthy."

Immediately, Zhi-Zhi was alert and in action. The tiny mole plunged facefirst into the dirt, and vanished without even a ripple, much less a hole left in his wake. It was like he was swimming through the earth, and he began to pop up from the ground in a circle around Booker, doing backstrokes as if the dirt was the water of a swimming pool.

"Okay…" Booker grinned. "That's something. Now, I think you've got a pretty good sense of smell, don't you? Can you find me anything good nearby?"

The mole popped down under the earth, and moments later as Booker sat on the grass scratching Froggie's warty skull, returned from beneath clutching a dirt-streaked lump of black truffle.

"Woah!" Booker exclaimed. This was only a minor spiritual mushroom with a little benefit when eaten, but it had taken Zhi-Zhi barely a few minutes to find among the roots of the trees. "You're fast when you're in your element," he praised, flicking the pill over to Zhi-Zhi.

As the little mole eagerly devoured the pill, he turned the mushroom over in his fingers. It wasn't really worth much to him – Booker had never been very talented as a chef, although his knifework had certainly improved recently – but it had to be valuable to the Sect's cooks.

Maybe this is a new way to scam a little income on the side, since I don't have easy access to the medicine markets anymore…

"Can you find any more? I'll make you a real treat later."

The mole vanished again, and over the course of the next ten minute resurfaced again and again, providing a small mound of squirming worms, strange-shaped mushrooms, and odd stones. Finally he appeared with a second truffle, his pink tongue hanging out of his mouth with exhaustion from how quickly he'd moved under the earth. Booker peered at the collection, but besides the mushrooms having faint spirituality he couldn't see the value in any of them. Scooping the lot into a pocket and leaving the worms to be slurped up by Zhi-Zhi, he cut the second truffle in half, tossing the pieces to his two beasts.

Zhi-Zhi wolfed his down in seconds, and his little nose swiveled like a radar, homing in on the half Froggie had.

Froggie lifted a yellow eye, and silently put his green hand onto Zhi-Zhi's face and pushed the little mole back while he ate.

Yeaaaah… Zhi-Zhi is going to be a bit troublesome, but at least I know exactly what strings to pull when I need him to do something. He's a motivated worker, even, when food's on the line. And what a sensitive nose…

His talents are nothing to laugh at, even if they're not that useful for straight combat. Snips is agility, deadliness, and speed. But once Zhi-Zhi vanishes underground, he's the king of his domain.

Yeah…

Yeah I can work with this…

"Alright, who wants the next reward?" Instantly, both frog and mole were focused his way. "That's right. I've got a special prize for whoever can do the best here, so listen up…"

— — —

After a day of training, running Zhi-Zhi and Froggy through different tasks they might need to perform while fighting at the arena, Booker returned to the laboratory. Wei Qi was beaming as he showed Booker a tray full of charcoal-ish lumps, the remains of the day's refinement process. "Look! Some of them still have traces of mingled qi, and they're holding much more structure than before. We must be close…"

Booker smiled, and noted Snips in a corner of the room, posing silently in front of a glass jar and examining his own reflection with the air a fighter sizing up his opposition.

"Listen, Wei Qi. Your worries before were reasonable. These spirit beasts really are quite small, because they were made with my blood. But… Believe in your elder brother. I'll promise you now, nobody will be able to touch Snips."

Wei Qi bit his lip, but ultimately nodded. "I would be a coward if I asked you to interfere with Tong Chen, but then balked at doing any of my own work. I understand– I don't like it, but I understand, and I'll do it."

Booker nodded.

Wei Qi…

I wish I could tell you, but you won't really be alone out there.

I'll be with you the whole way. Just not wearing this face.

Chapter 34 + Patreon

As Wei Qi made his way out of the Sect, Booker followed at a discrete distance. His current mask was past its prime – he'd simply attracted too much attention from Zheng Bai to wear it into a den of thieves like the Pearl Gambling House.

But the wonderful thing about masks was, you could throw them away when you were done. It took two silver coins to buy a new one, a carved mask of soft gold-brown cedar wood in the shape of an owl. Rather than using his usual white-fur cloak, which gave him a faint edge in speed, he went with a plain black cowl.

Pretty soon every masked man in the city is going to be accused of my crimes…

But then I'll just find another way to hide. Face-changing pills, maybe?

Ducking into an alleyway, he sighed. The odds are… somebody might have already spotted me. If I walk out of this alley in another mask, they'll trail me easily. I'm good on my feet and clever in most situations, but I'm not going to bet on being able to catch sight of a practiced thief trailing me…

But he'd chosen an alley that connected to others, letting him escape from a variety of angles. So for now, as he switched out his mask, he waited…

When no soft footsteps proved to be following him, he chose a different avenue than the one he'd entered by, slipping out into the crowd.

The city was ornery today. With the coming examination, young warriors from the valleys were flooding into the streets, and tribal warlords brought their sons to join the Sect, merchant caravans stopped by to let their children compete. The atmosphere was rich with drink and laughter, new friendships forming over bowls of wine as young hopefuls looked out on their life with excitement.

But at the same time, there were brawls in the restaurants and the drinking halls. Blood flowed onto the streets.

Booker didn't have time to stop and participate in every petty brawl that brought the city guard hustling out to pull the bravos apart. He headed straight for the gambling house like an arrow.

And still, he almost arrived too late. As he brushed through the door he easily spotted Wei Qi, standing by the edge of the ring and looking out of place in his pristine robes, the boy's hand on his head, massaging his hair with nervous energy as he watched the fights.

It was chaos in the ring. A regenerating blob of black, tar-like sludge was spitting out tendrils of sticky adhesive to try and grab at a brilliant red bird that was swerved left and right, wings bending against the air to dodge. But no matter how fast it was, the bird had no way to harm the slime – its claws could barely risk slashing at the outer surface without sinking into the sticky mass, and that did no harm at all.

The crowd booed and called insults as the bird's master recalled it to his shoulder. A barrel-sized earthenware jar was tipped forward until it hung over the edge of the fighting pit, and a hammer swung down, cracking it open. From within poured a thin, foul-smelling slime and mass of red fur. As the furball stood up, it shook itself off and the shape of a small bear became clear.

The slime surged forward, throwing out a tendril to grab at the bear's side–

The bear swiped its claw into the reaching tendril, and scattered it into sludge. The master of the slime winced, but it was too late for the slow creature to be recalled: the bear simply waded forward, slamming its claws into the tar-sludge's bulk and ripping the creature apart.

Booker turned away. The sad thing was, the bear was already showing the signs of falling apart: slimy purple veins bulged across its skin, growing wider and more far-reaching with every second. They were the physical signs of an unstable spirit beast, doomed to die within minutes after leaving its jar. Soon there would be only black sludge to show for its life.

But for that short life, it could at least enjoy being a champion.

More than watching the fight, Booker watched Wei Qi, registering every flinch and wince as the slime was torn apart and spatters of black tar flew against the pit's walls, leaving only a black blotch on the center of the ring's hard-packed dirt.

Sweeping the crowd left and right, Booker searched for other watchers – people standing back, ignoring the fights and observing the people. While the gambling house was at no shortage of shady creatures lurking at the edges, he didn't track any of their gazes towards Wei Qi. The boy had escaped notice for now.

Looking up, he saw the blackboard on which the matches were inscribed. There were sixteen competitors, and thus four rounds of competition. Wei Qi's first match was at the end of the first round, and his first opponent was only listed as 'Nalou' – a tribal name from the deep valleys.

With that as his first point of evidence, Booker quickly identified the man. He was dressed in heavy gray wolf furs and wore a pendant of black and red beads around his neck, with his chief spirit beast, a large wolf, panting and drooling as it waited at his heels.

Booker smiled the regretful smile of someone who was about to make a cruel joke at someone else's expense. Sorry for this one, but… I can't leave Wei Qi to this one on his own.

Concealed in Booker's pockets was a heavy fragment of the mad ox musk gland he'd cut away, a wad of slimy meat leaking the alluring fragrances that drove beasts wild. As the crowd concealed his actions, he slipped closer and closer, until he could drop the musk gland and kick it into the wolf's field of vision.

As the paper-wrapped sliver of meat slid into its sight like a gift from heaven, the poor wolf had no chance of resisting. It glanced guiltily up at its master, confirming he was looking away, and gobbled up the treat in a flash of teeth and black jowls.

A moment later and the wolf's master was definitely looking as his spirit beast let out a sharp, whinnying howl and leapt straight up into the air, shaking itself violently as it landed. "Hao? Hao, heel!" But there was no stopping the wolf now. It took off, galloping and kicking with its back legs, arcing up into the air with irregular legs like a horse trying to buck off a rider.

The crowd parted, stepping back in commotion as Hao roared and barked, tail wagging violently from side to side as he let out vicious growls at anyone who approached. As the crowd moved aside enough for him to see the ring – as poor Nalou struggled to get Hao's attention – the wolf's overstimulated mind remembered its training, remembered what it was here for.

With a sudden burst of speed it rushed straight past its master and dove happily into the ring, letting out a ringing howl as it dove over the barrier with ears flapping.

Instantly the fight turned to chaos, and the crowd roared with anger, delight, and confusion, piling in so tightly to the ring's edge to see the sudden free-for-all within that Nalou was washed back. The fight's attendants had to push their way forward slowly, and by the time they entered the ring and dragged Hao back, there was no recovering the bout from total mayhem – a duel suddenly turned into a three-point free-for-all.

Booker simply allowed the crowd to wash him away from the crime scene, and watched from a distance as the protesting Nalou fought to restrain Hao from diving back at the other combatants. There was no shortage of laughter and jeers as the attendants dragged them both out and hurled them onto the street, slamming the door behind. The flustered referee called the match start again, but by now it was too late – the two unstable spirit beasts in the ring had begun to heavily degrade, and as they lurched towards each other with black bile streaming from their eyes and snouts, it was clear neither had much fight left in their short lifetime.

But just like that…

Wei Qi's first opponent was gone. Unfortunately, the apprentice didn't seem at all cheered up by the fact he'd just been handed a free win. His knuckles were white where they gripped the railing of the ring, watching the gory battles within unfold. When the rematch drew itself out to the sour, inevitable finale, he left entirely, forcing his way back through the crowd towards the bar and ordering a bowlful of cheap wine.

Don't get too drunk… You're just starting the marathon… Booker sighed. Maybe he should have chosen Xan or someone else for this…

But at the same time, he could hardly blame Wei Qi. In the ring, both spirit beasts had totally dissolved, but their skeletons were still locked in that final moment, leaning against one another to stay standing as their flesh collapsed into the sticky black slime that now glued them together.

That was how it went.

The truth was, most of the contestants had only brought a single stable spirit beast. The competition – the meta – around spirit beast gambling was to use the most expensive stable beast you could afford, and then back it up with less expensive, disposable beasts whose unstable nature made them powerful for a brief time.

When someone's first spirit beast went down, there was a good chance the bout ended there. At the very least, their master would have to seriously consider dropping out rather than wasting their remaining unstable beasts.

After all, winning one round didn't mean anything unless it was the last round, and every unstable spirit beast you spent early on was one you didn't have later.

For the first match to have already gone three-against-three with full casualties on both sides… It wasn't hard to read the angry glares between the two contestants. This had been a grudge match.

Very likely, the organizers had set these two up against each other in the first round for that exact reason.

The upshot is, I don't need to run Snips too ragged here. If he can win the first rounds decisively enough the opposition will fold.

The first pass of matches proceeded steadily, with no more 'interruptions' from Booker as the ring filled with blood. He watched as much as he could, gathering information on the enemy, but his stomach was faintly turning over the whole time… The stink of blood was rising, and mixing with spilled wine to form the most nauseating odor.

Standing sentinel over Wei Qi, Booker leaned back against a post and let time pass, let the roars and the faces of the crowd blend into a blur.

Until it was time.

"Wei Qi, representing his senior brother Valley Rain, against the Lord Xing!" The announcer called, and Wei Qi blanched, shakily rising from his seat and making his way to the raised balconies that overlooked the ring for the trainers. Snips, Froggie, and Zhi-Zhi were all on his shoulders.

This… wasn't a good look. The average spirit beast here was the size of a hound, and here he was, carrying his whole team like a collection of dolls.

People shoved Wei Qi and laughed at him as he made his way to the fore. Even the announcer seemed to be looking forward to an utter stomp – his opponent was a burly man leading a massive badger by a leash. As he unhooked its collar and let the surly, flat-bodied creature slump down into the arena, the size difference between him and the tiny Snips that buzzed down to land in the ring's dust was drawn into clear contrast.

"Everyone, place your bets! C'mon, who doesn't love an underdog story? Don't you want to see this feisty little cricket soar to the heavens – maybe he's the carp that leaps the waterfall!"

And indeed, Booker was pushing his way towards the betting desk as people clustered in, eager to lay bets on what seemed like a sure thing.

Even the clerk gave him a doubtful look as he put down his bet. "One thousand liang on the boy." It was everything Booker had worked for over this last month, and it was going in at 5-to-1 odds to win the whole night. That's everything. Absolutely everything – on Snips.

But Booker knew one thing the crowd didn't. As small as Snips was, none of these bulky creatures could match him for speed or killing sting.

As the announcer lifted his hand and chopped it down, shouting "Begin!" there was no time to process what happened.

Snips simply blurred – and was on the other side of the ungainly badger. Sparks exploded up, raking a blue-white line across the beast's fur. Every hair must have been as hard as steel, because the thick pelt resisted Snips' attempt to cut through, leaving the beast stunned but unharmed.

As the badger reared up and turned, Snips flickered into its blind spot, circling to keep out of view as the shaggy beast looked left, right, left–

A claw flashed towards its throat. The badger lifted its claws on instinct, going tumbling back as the strike raked another line of sparks from its steely fur. Before it could recover, Snips had landed on its belly and was striking down with his claws, trying to pierce the fur and the heavy hide below to inject a payload of venom.

The badger rolled, and Snips went blurring back, landing on the arena's edge. A drop of blood rolled down his scythe-like claws.

With a growl, the laconic badger bristled up, its fur forming into tall spikes sharp enough to pierce flesh. Lightning crackled down the white stripes of its skull, illuminating the spines with crackles of arcing electricity.

But it was all over. As the badger surged forward, chasing Snips across the arena with brutal slashing claw-strikes that would have annihilated the little mantis if they could just connect– it was clearly slowing, clearly lagging, starting to pant and huff as the thunder and storm died from its back. Although crackling fingers of electricity erupted and chased Snips each time those claws struck the ground, Snips was simply in a class of his own when it came to evading.

The crowd's shock had turned to anger, now. Recovering from the blinding speed of the first assault, they began to jeer and cry out with each agile dodge, roaring for the badger to splatter an opponent they saw as all evasion and no killing instinct.

But the smarter ones were wearing concerned impressions, feeling their stomach and their chances of winning back their bets sink in tandem.

It wasn't long before the badger was truly struggling to even move. Foam dripped from its mouth as it lifted onto its hind legs and stood unsteadily, gazing out at the crowd roaring with increasing anger for it to kill the 'little bug' and its master, gripping the railing with a furious expression on his face.

It stood for a moment, swaying in an unseen wind…

And fell, starting to spasm.

Poison, the crowd breathed out as one, finally understanding. "The little bug is a poisoner!" The announcer shouted. "The badger can no longer continue! We begin the count! Three…"

Booker pushed his way through the crowd, shouldering hard against the unwilling mass of people clustered to the railings.

"Two…"

Fighting his way to the balcony, he leaned over the railing, grappling for the burly trainer's attention as dozens of other people yelled and screamed into his ear, berating him for being a worthless sack of shit and a million other things that added up to 'you lost me money'.

Booker reached out and grabbed his arm.

The man threw off his grip in a second, but in that second, he turned and caught Booker's eyes. Booker held up in two fingers a round green pill – a Poison Spitting Pill!

"I have medicine to cure your beast and save its life, but you need to act now." Booker said, in his croaking, medicine-altered voice.

"And what do you expect me to pay for your crackpot promises?" The man sneered, already trying to turn his attention back to the ring.

"Nothing." Booker said, and his head turned back. "Just withdraw. Withdraw now. If you keep fighting, your next beast is unstable. Even if it lasts long enough to wipe the ring with the mantis and the other two beasts you're against – even then – you won't be able to make it to the finish with only one unstable beast left. You're two down at least – unless you withdraw and take this medicine."

Half of his words were drowned out by the crowd, but the man still got the idea. His brow furrowed, glaring at the owl mask as if it personified all the ugly calculations he was being forced to make, then he turned to the ring and held up a hand.

"I withdraw!"

For a moment, the crowd's outraged screams drowned out everything else. Booker was ripped back from the contestant balcony as the mob surged forward, grasping at the man with ripping, clawing hands. For a moment he was nearly being dragged out over the barricades, being assaulted and struck from every angle for denying them blood. Even the guards who were there to keep the peace were getting their blows in.

Booker was washed back, and he was fine with that. He simply turned towards the ring and shoved his way to the railing, and before anyone could stop him, vaulted over to land in the dust below.

The badger was twitching and convulsing on its side, but Booker fed it the Poison-Spitting Pill and massaged its throat to get the beast to swallow. As soon the pill hit its stomach, it heaved, and spat out a black wash of impure qi full of sticky globs.

The crowd was staring at him now, as he straightened up and the badger began to climb onto its feet.

"What are you? Some kind of fucking idiot?! Get out of the ring!" Somebody shouted.

"Motherfucker, we paid for blood!" Someone else hurled an empty wine bowl at him, which Booker stepped aside, getting a splashed of cheap and rancid alcohol across his black cloak.

All around, from every side, there were roars of angry disappointment, so loud they threatened to make the world drown. These people were drunk and here for the violence – more than one bowl was hurled his way as the badger slowly stood up.

But Wei Qi's eyes had a helpless gratitude in them. The apprenticed leaned over the balcony and offered a hand up, which Booker gladly accepted, clambering onto the balcony alongside him.

"I have no idea why you did that but… Thank you." Wei Qi said. "Are– are you the same masked man who saved me before?"

"The point of the mask is to hide my identity." Booker answered, laying a hand on his shoulder. "But this much I can say: I'm here to help you."

The crowd was still jeering, but Booker nodded towards the bar. "Let's go. No point in watching this bloodsport." Snips had already left the ring and alighted onto Wei Qi's shoulders.

Together they pushed past the sour toughs glaring at them and the accusatory shouts from sore losers, reaching the bar. Booker put down one of a handful of liang he'd kept back for a bowl of wine and slid it towards Wei Qi.

"Thank you." Wei Qi muttered hoarsely. The crowd was getting to him – his shoulders were hunched and his eyes downcast.

"Don't worry. It should be possible to get you out of this without blood on your hands."

"Really?" Wei Qi looked up. "That doesn't sound like reality."

"It is." Booker promised. "With those three spirit beasts of yours, you're guaranteed to win. Winning without killing will just be a little harder."

"Thank you, but, they're not mine. My senior brother made them." Wei Qi said sourly. "I'm only here on his behalf – I really don't know how someone can raise such strong beasts and just send them to risk their lives in a place like this alone."

Mm. From any perspective but mine, it's a real scumbag move… Booker sighed internally. But out loud, he said, "Your senior brother must trust these beasts a great deal."

"Maybe." Wei Qi said doubtfully. Booker could read his eyes – "or maybe he doesn't care."

"Just pace yourself with the drinking, have confidence, and all of this will be over soon." Booker soothed him, choosing not to waste too many words defending his own reputation to the apprentice.

"I recognize your voice." Wei Qi said. "This is the second time you've helped me, and I don't know why."

"I don't need a reason." Booker answered tersely.

"And you helped Wild Swan too, didn't you? I heard about a masked man giving him medicine…"

"Listen, if you look too deeply into why I'm here, or why I'm helping you, you'll only force me to leave. Let things be as they are: I'm here to help."

They sat together quietly at the bar, Wei Qi drinking slowly as the audience roared and stomped and filled the gambling hall with noise. Neither of them was eager to pay attention to what was happening in the ring.

But Booker's eyes kept watching the contenders, and eventually, he spotted a flash of a familiar face and shock-white hair in the crowd. Speaking of Wild Swan…

The boy was here. He'd arrived with a group of his hangers-on and cronies, pushing their way forward through the crowd so he could take up a comfortable position at the ring's edge. His eyes were blue and focused, a far cry from his delirium when Booker had seen him last, and his skin wasn't nearly as sallow and unhealthy. Even his expression of sneering contempt was back in place.

Booker silently departed from the bar, slipping deeper into the crowd where he wouldn't be seen. By the time Wei Qi looked up, he was gone.

There were only four contestants left now. Wei Qi would be up against a female disciple of the Sect, while in the ring, a rocky-skinned octopus under the command of an elegant lady dressed in white fought against a sharp-tailed peacock controlled by an old man from the valleys, his walnut-colored skin etched with hard-set wrinkles.

The fight was brutal. The peacock's razor sharp feathers bristled outwards and swept the ground in elegant fanning strikes, slicing entire limbs off the octopus' body. But just as quickly, the clever octopus was regenerating itself, rolling and tumbling across the ground and trying to snag at the peacock with sudden reaching grabs.

And it only had to succeed once. With a sudden snatching motion, it managed to latch a tendril around the peacock's throat and pull itself up onto the bird's back. The peacock ran left and right, slamming against the walls, but it was too late. The octopus' body had hardened into a lump of stone, hanging upside-down from the peacock's neck like a stone.

In only a few wild attempts to buck the octopus away, the peacock was badly lagging, breathless, weighed down by the rocky tendrils clinging to its neck and choking off its breath with the unfeeling strength and weight of stone.

It collapsed forward and the count began.

After that, the valley elder brought out two unstable beasts, but neither was able to defeat the octopus. The combination of agile movement, sudden body hardening, and regeneration simply gave it too many defensive options, letting it wear down the enemy and crush them into submission. Both times, the unstable beast collapsed and fell apart before it could finish off the octopus.

When the valley elder stepped away cursing and the elegant woman went back to her crowd of young beauties and handmaidens, it was Wei Qi's turn. This time Booker stepped onto the balcony with them as they both endured another round of jeering from the crowd.

The female disciple entered the opposite balcony, carrying a small sleek silver-furred otter. As soon as the beast leapt from her hands, a bubble of water surrounded it, a bubble that completely defied gravity, letting it swim rather than fall down towards the ring.

"BEGIN!" Roared the announcer.

Snips wings erupted out and the tiny mantis shot straight for the finish.

The otter twisted nimbly into the air, its bubble moving with it to form a looping spiral. As Snips shot through the middle of that spiral, it snapped shut like a trap, trying to crush and drown the little bug by weighing down his wings with water.

Still – there was something undefeatable about momentum. On momentum alone, Snips burst out of the closing water trap, landing on the far side of the arena with drenched wings. He tried immediately to flick the water off of them with an angry buzz but–

The otter was on the attack. It flicked its tail, extending the bubble out into a rushing torrent of water that swept towards Snips. A leap carried him above the attack, but now he was airborne without working wings, perfectly vulnerable as the otter sailed forward and lunged down to try and crush him with its forepaws.

Fuck!

But even as Booker leaned forward to the edge of the ring, a miracle happened. Snips flashed both claws into a wide, cutting stance, ready to receive death with open arms. Apparently, the otter had no such resolve– at the last second it averted, diving left and trying to swipe Snips out of the air with a sideways wash of water.

Snips caught the blow and let it carry him back, his feet connecting with the ground once more as above him, his wings flared out and vibrating into a buzzing curtain, flicking away all the water that had restrained him.

This… This spirit beast is definitely of a higher cultivation than Snips. Only the fact that Snips was made by the book's recipe is letting him stay in this…

Wei Qi was biting his fingernails. He looked helplessly towards Booker.

The problem is, against a creature as small as Snips, that bubble is a defensive technique as well as a movement technique. If he closes for a finishing move, it will drown him.

Booker turned towards the ring. "Mantis!" He commanded. "The enemy is fast, but the water they rely on lags behind. Aim for the water! Run it out of qi!"

Snips didn't need telling twice. As his wings were freed, he dodged aside from the next attack, letting the otter chase him around the ring on a series of touch-and-go near misses. With each pass, Snips would flick out a claw and rip through the watery membrane that held the bubble together, mist erupting from the speed with which his tiny scythe tore through the water.

It was just like Booker had said – the otter was fast, but it could only move inside the confines of the bubble, requiring it to stretch and extend the bubble into a watery trail with every motion. And as Snips tore the qi holding the water apart again and again, the beast began to weary, constantly having to reinforce and feed into its movement technique.

Until–

There was a flash of bright pink wings and everything stopped. The otter toppled from the bubble as it collapsed into a wash of thin water, and even before it could rise, Snips was suddenly posed on its back, a claw raised to threaten its neck.

"Concede!" Booker called out.

The disciple's face twisted, the girl biting her lip in uncertainty, before calling back – "If you think you can take one of my beasts hostage and bully me, you're wrong! Do what you will! I have two more who can wipe the dirt with you!"

"Alright, in that case…" Booker lifted a hand. "I'll let you have your otter back unharmed on one condition. My next spirit beasts works best when its given time to prepare the ring, so give me the time it takes to steep a cup of tea…"

"Like I'd agree to that!" She yelled back, furious. "It's obviously a trick."

"Obviously." Booker agreed. "But think about this – poison is a slow killer. If I refuse to let your beast leave the ring until it's dead, I'll have plenty of time to do whatever I want. All you win by refusing is the needless loss of a good fighter."

She paused, and the logic sank in. There was simply no winning here because he really could poison her beast and use the time it took to die for his own goals. With the crowd so frenzied for blood, there was no way they'd accept an early count.

Finally, scowling and stamping her foot, she shouted, "Fine! Only enough time to brew a single cup!"

Snips buzzed back to Wei Qi's shoulders with a single jump. The otter slumped out of the ring, needing its master's assistance to climb up into her arms.

And Booker nodded to Wei Qi. "Send out the mole next?"

"Zhi-Zhi? Uh, he's uh, not really a combatant. The only one who's supposed to fight is…" But the little mole had already begun to climb down his robes, make his way across the floor, and waddle down into the ring, tumbling over the steep curved walls and landing face-first in the dirt.

"Is this a joke?" Someone yelled. "It's even sadder than the last one!"

"Your mother could kill this one by sitting on it!"

"It doesn't even look fully grown! Look at its nose, it's a malformed runt!"

As the crowd's outrage reached up to the rafters and shook the floorboards, Zhi-Zhi's nose lifted up, wiggled its starry feelers, and decided this was no place for a mole.

So he simply popped down beneath the earth and vanished without a trace.

"What?! He can't run away!"

"Hey bring the coward back! You piece of shit, you haven't given us one good match all night! You've stolen from us!"

The crowd was only growing more restless. There was precisely one thing saving Wei Qi and Booker from being openly assaulted by the mob, and that was Wei Qi's status as a disciple of the Sect. Anyone else would have already been dragged out and beaten to a pulp for denying the bloodlust of the event.

But the worst outrage was left to come. As the orderlies dragged forward the girl's next spirit beast, contained within a jade jar wrapped in hempen rope, Booker held up a hand.

"Before you release that spirit beast, why don't we see if my opponent still wants to proceed?" He called out.

"What? Of course I want to proceed– don't you dare patronize me!" She shouted back. "Even if I lose both, I'll still have my otter for the final round."

"But unless I'm mistaken, your next two spirit beasts are both unstable. They'll only live ten minutes." Booker replied patiently. "In that case– why would our spirit beast even bother to surface in the next ten minutes? Right now he's safely hidden away and all he has to do to win is wait. If you like, you can spend your beasts' lives trying to find him, but you won't catch him in his element."

"You– you–" The girl's mouth hung open, unable to believe what she was hearing. "You BASTARD!" She lunged forward, leaning over the railing with fury in her eyes. "Cowardly, rat-shit BASTARD! MOTHERLESS WHORE! Fuck the beasts, I'll kill you MY–"

And then mid-sentence she reeled back, dumbstruck, as a massive wave of martial intent washed through the gambling house. The crowd, who had been firmly ready to back the disciple in her play, shrank back and covered their eyes and ears, although that did nothing to protect them from the steady waves of power pulsing out across the air.

It was Wild Swan, his arms crossed, who silenced the gambling house with martial intent.

"Is the name of this competition not a battle between spirit beasts? So far, it's clear who has the superior beasts at their side. As such – the Sect won't accept any interference from rabble." The white-haired prodigy said coldly.

Before the girl could answer, a hand touched her shoulder. It was the elegant lady in white who had commanded the octopus to victory.

"This won't be a win for you, no matter what you say. Bear it gracefully, though, and I might win some of your pride back tonight." The lady said, gently guiding the girl away before turning to face Booker and Wei Qi across the ring.

"I notice all your spirit beasts are stable and well-formed." She said, unbothered by the hateful aura still washing out from Wild Swan to suppress the crowd. "So are mine – I despise the senseless waste of spirit beasts who only live for one battle. As for your desire to win bloodlessly, I find it naive, silly, and somewhat charming. Therefore I'm willing to offer a deal. No tricks from your end. No killing from mine. Each of our beasts will battle once, three duels, and the first to two wins calls themselves the victor."

Wei Qi looked up at Booker, looking nauseous from the radiating martial intent.

Booker nodded. "Since you ask us for a fair duel, and since everyone here has been waiting to see a real fight – we accept!"