The sun was only barely peaking above the eastern peaks on the horizon when Jiang arrived at the outskirts of the village.

  He slowed, taking it in.

  The village was small. Smaller than Liǔxī, he thought, though better positioned. A rough wooden wall encircled the whole thing – not tall, not sturdy, but recently repaired, judging by the lighter planks nailed into place at irregular intervals. Low houses of packed earth and timber clustered tightly together, smoke beginning to curl from a handful of chimneys as people stirred awake.

  He had pushed himself hard on the journey from Biragawa, trusting his enhanced endurance to eat up the miles while the roads were still dark and empty. He hadn’t originally intended to leave so early, but one of the advantages of the second realm he was still getting used to was the reduced need for sleep. Sitting around his room at the inn waiting for the sun to come up had felt more than a little pointless, not to mention the earlier he left the more time he would have to experiment, so he’d taken advantage of the opportunity and ducked out before the sun had even risen.

  In an ideal world, he would have avoided the village entirely, but while the scroll he had read in the Black Dragon had been specific about the location, it had been vague on the details. That was the nature of a beast tide, even the dregs of one; the creatures moved when and where they wanted to move. At any moment, something far stronger than expected could wander through an otherwise quiet area, and no scroll or scout report could prevent that.

  Which was why he was here first.

  If anyone knew where the beasts had been sighted most recently, it would be the people whose livestock had been eaten, whose fences had been smashed, whose nights had been interrupted by distant roars or the sound of something large moving through the dark. Asking the village head or elders could potentially save him hours or even days of blind searching.

  He grimaced faintly at the thought.

  Walking up to people in authority had never been something he enjoyed—especially not when it meant revealing, or at least implying, that he was a cultivator. It put him in a position he didn’t like, one where expectations attached themselves whether he wanted them or not. Still, discomfort was a small price to pay for efficiency, and he wasn’t here to make friends. If nothing else, the village would doubtlessly have a hunter of its own, and with a little luck – or, more likely, a little silver – he could get more specific information on the surroundings from a local source.

  The sooner he found a target, the sooner he could begin the unpleasant work of testing the limits of his damaged Qi.

  He was halfway to the gate when he felt another presence.

  Jiang let his senses drift outward just far enough to brush against the village. He frowned. That was clearly another cultivator – after a moment’s assessment, he pegged it at about the sixth stage of the first realm. That was… annoying. He had chosen this location specifically because the Black Dragon’s intel suggested it was too small and profitless to attract mercenaries. He had hoped for privacy. If he pushed himself too hard and collapsed, the last thing he wanted was an audience, let alone one that might decide to loot his unconscious body.

  Still, it wasn’t the end of the world. While a sixth-stage cultivator could certainly threaten him – especially without access to his Qi – they probably wouldn’t know that. It was a little odd, being on the other end of the power discrepancy, but he didn’t hate the sensation. Just to be safe, he’d try to head in the opposite direction to this cultivator once he had the information he needed.

  Jiang exhaled slowly and kept walking.

  The gate was open, the wooden doors pulled back and lashed into place with rope. A man stood just inside, spear planted on the ground. Judging by the state of the spear and the fact that he wasn’t wearing a uniform of any kind, Jiang was willing to bet that the villagers were taking turns standing guard. The same thing had happened occasionally back at Liǔxī, though at the time Jiang had been too young to take part himself.

  Jiang spared the man a nod – if nothing else, he could respect the man for standing on watch this early in the morning, especially considering how cold it would be to a mortal – but angled slightly to pass by without comment.

  “Oi, wait! I mean, halt!”

  The man straightened, puffing himself up a little as he adjusted his grip on the spear. He wasn’t aggressive, exactly, but there was a definite spark of excitement in his eyes – the look of someone enjoying a role they didn’t often get to play.

  “Village is closed to strangers,” the man said, trying for authority. “Beast trouble. State your business.”

  Jiang sighed inwardly, already knowing how this was going to play out. “I’m a cultivator,” he said, keeping his tone level. “I’m here to hunt spirit beasts in the area. I need to speak with whoever’s in charge.”

  The man blinked, then laughed as he looked Jiang up and down. “You? Nice try,” he chuckled. “You look like every other hunter who’s wandered through here hoping to scare us into giving out free food and some copper. If you’re a cultivator, I’m the Emperor’s third cousin.”

  Jiang pinched the bridge of his nose. He was already missing Biragawa’s jade pendants. They cut through so much of this nonsense. Under normal circumstances, he could have just flared the shadows around him – or, if he was feeling less dramatic, summoned a ball of Qi to his hand. Unfortunately, doing so right now would be rather painful for him, so he needed something… physical.

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  He considered the matter for a moment before looking around, spotting a suitable tree nearby. It stood just beyond the wall, its trunk thick and old, bark rough and dark with moisture.

  Jiang walked over to it.

  “What are you—” the man started.

  Jiang planted his feet, drew back his arm, and punched.

  There was a sharp crack, followed by the sound of splintering wood. His fist drove clean through the trunk, bark and all, leaving a jagged crater where solid timber had been a heartbeat earlier. The impact sent a jolt up his arm, but it wasn’t nearly as painful as channelling Qi would have been.

  That… had been rather more dramatic than he had expected.

  The man went very, very quiet, staring at the tree, then at Jiang’s fist, still buried to the wrist.

  His spear clattered to the ground.

  “I— I’m sorry,” he blurted, words tripping over each other. “I didn’t— I mean— I’ll get the headman—”

  He turned and ran, boots thudding against the packed earth as he disappeared deeper into the village.

  Jiang pulled his hand free, flexing his fingers once.

  “Well,” he muttered to himself, watching the man run. “There goes subtle.”

  — — —

  Jiang entered the village to a trail of curious looks.

  A few people had clearly seen the guard sprint past, spear abandoned somewhere behind him, and the ripple of quiet alarm that followed his passage hadn’t yet settled. Doors cracked open and faces peered out cautiously, but no one challenged him, so he ignored it as best he could.

  He didn’t travel far before he was met by a small group hurrying towards him. At the front was an older man, his hair thinned to white wisps and his back slightly stooped, leaning heavily on a cane of polished black wood. Judging by how the people behind this man seemed to be looking at him, Jiang guessed that this was the village head.

  But it was the cultivator beside him that drew Jiang’s eye.

  He was young – perhaps a year or two older than Jiang – with a face that looked like it had been constructed entirely out of cheerful optimism. He wore expensive-looking robes of deep azure, trimmed with silver, and a long, straight sword hung at his hip.

  The headman stopped a few paces away, his eyes darting nervously at Jiang’s outfit before resting on his face. He bowed, perhaps a little deeper than strictly necessary.

  “Honoured Cultivator,” the headman said, his voice wheezing slightly. “My name is Chen. The guard tells me… that you are here to help fight the beast tide?”

  Jiang didn’t miss the slight hesitation. It was a safe assumption that the village head was worried about offending him. And could possibly guess how the guard had treated him.

  “It’s fine,” Jiang said, stepping forward. He glanced briefly at the blue-robed youth, offering a curt nod of acknowledgement, before turning his full attention back to the headman. “As I told the guard, I’m here to hunt. I was hoping you could tell me where the spirit beasts have been sighted most recently. It would save me time tracking them down.”

  Before the headman could answer, the youth stepped forward, beaming.

  “A fellow hunter!” he exclaimed, clasping his hands together in a salute that was eager rather than formal. “This is fantastic! I was just telling Chen that while I’m confident I can handle the strays, having another cultivator here makes everything safer for the village. I’m Ren Li. Wandering cultivator. It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

  Jiang felt a headache beginning to form behind his eyes.

  “Jiang,” he replied shortly. “And I work alone.”

  He turned back to the headman. “Elder Chen. The sightings?”

  Ren Li didn’t seem deterred in the slightest. He rocked back on his heels, still smiling. “Oh, absolutely, absolutely. Lone wolf type. I respect that. Very mysterious. But surely you agree that two swords are better than one? Especially with a beast tide. Even the dregs can be unpredictable. Why, just yesterday I tracked some kind of shadow-aligned Badger halfway up the ridge before I lost it. Tricky little things.”

  Jiang ignored him. He kept his gaze fixed on the headman, trying to project an air of impatience that would hurry this along. He wasn’t exactly trying to be rude to the other cultivator, but he certainly didn’t want to encourage any further interaction either. Fortunately, as the stronger one between the two, he could get away with being a little more rude.

  Probably, anyway – he wasn’t entirely certain on the specifics of cultivator interactions. Either way, he should be safe, considering this cultivator wasn’t part of a Sect. The headman cleared his throat, looking between the two cultivators with the air of a man trapped between a rock and a very enthusiastic hard place.

  “Yes, well,” Chen said. “Most of the trouble has been to the north-west, Honoured Cultivator. About an hour’s walk past the old mill. The shepherds say something large has been frightening the flocks near the stony creek. They haven’t seen it clearly – mostly just shadows in the trees and the sound of breaking branches – but three sheep were taken two nights ago.”

  “Thank you,” Jiang replied, nodding. “That’s all I needed.”

  He turned on his heel, intending to leave immediately. The sooner he was in the woods and away from people, the better.

  “Wait up!”

  Jiang did not wait up. He marched out of the gate, heading toward the treeline. Unfortunately, he could hear footsteps hurrying to catch up behind him. Jiang stopped, hoping to nip this in the bud. He turned to look at Ren Li, keeping his expression flat.

  “I didn’t ask for company,” Jiang said bluntly. “And I meant what I said. I hunt alone. It’s safer for everyone involved.”

  Ren Li blinked, his smile faltering for a fraction of a second before bouncing back with renewed vigour.

  “Safer? How could it be safer?” He laughed, waving a hand dismissively. “Come now, friend. We’re both heading to the same place, hunting the same beasts. It makes sense to walk together. Besides, I’m not asking for a split of your cores. I’m just here for the experience! And maybe to help the villagers. They’re good people, don’t you think? That guard was terrified of you, by the way. You really put the fear of the Heavens into him with that punch. Very impressive physical cultivation!”

  Jiang stared at him. The man was either incredibly dense or purposefully ignoring the rejection. Either way, he was a variable Jiang couldn’t afford. If he started coughing up blood or convulsing from pain while trying to channel Qi, the last thing he needed was this cheerful idiot trying to ‘help’ him.

  “Ren,” Jiang said, putting a hard edge on his voice. “I am not looking for a partner. I am not looking for a friend. I am going to the creek to handle my own business. Do not follow me.”

  He turned and started walking again, faster this time, his long strides eating up the distance.

  “Well, I can’t exactly not follow you,” Ren called out, his voice cheerful and unbothered as he trotted along five paces behind. “Like I said, I’m heading to the creek too! It’s public land, friend Jiang. Free for anyone to walk on. We just happen to be walking in the same direction at the same time. Coincidence, really!”

  Jiang ground his teeth together.

  He couldn’t argue with the logic. He had no authority to ban the man from the forest. And he couldn’t exactly fight him – not without escalating a minor annoyance into a major incident, and definitely not without revealing his condition.

  He was stuck with him.

  “Fine,” Jiang muttered, not looking back. “Just stay out of my way.”

  “Understood!” Ren chirped happily. “I’ll just be over here. Observing. Learning from my senior in the cultivation arts. You won’t even know I’m here!”

  Jiang doubted that very much.

  February 23rd. The published version also includes a few additional chapters and some smoothing edits - nothing that changes the core plot, but it flows a bit cleaner overall.