The thick scent of incense hanging in the air mixed with the sweet fragrance of the pill that was revealed as Patriarch Qiang Lin carefully opened the box he had placed on the floor before him. The smell reminded him of crystal-clear water pouring right out of a fresh spring… Moments later, it seemed more like a thick fog hanging over a meadow in the early morning… a true masterpiece. He hadn’t doubted the seller for a second when they had informed him that it had been personally created by the Venerable Alchemist Ma Rong.

  The quality was, of course, matched by an equally impressive price-tag. It had perhaps been a little irresponsible to buy it, considering the state of the Silver Blood Sect’s finances. Their debts to the surrounding sects were slowly stacking up to an uncomfortable degree and their latest business ventures had not taken off like they had expected.

  Ironic really, considering that his great-grandfather had founded the sect out of the single wealthiest independent merchant family the peninsula had seen in centuries. Oh well, cultivating was expensive and what had he been meant to do? Leave this incredible pill sit out in the open for someone else to buy it? No, he deserved to have it, considering everything he was contributing to his sect.

  Their financial issues would soon be resolved anyways. The moment that the Grand Elder returned with Xiaobo’s winnings from the tournament, to be exact. Their investment in his training would pay of over a thousandfold. And that wasn’t even mentioning the renown they would earn throughout the alliance – perhaps they wouldn’t even need to pay off their debts because their neighbors would just readily forgive them, to gain their favor!

  Patriarch Lin’s ancestors would commend him for his keen sense for business if they were still here to witness it, he was sure of that.

  Speaking of it, he was expecting the tournament delegation’s return every day now. The tournament would have ended over a week ago and he hadn’t heard a thing about it. The Grand Elder was sure taking his sweet time getting back. Perhaps they were caught up letting themselves be celebrated for their victory…

  Well, if they were enjoying their time like that, it was all the more appropriate that he got something as well. Patriarch Lin picked up the pill from the box, lifting it to his face and examining it up close for a while.

  Its pale blue surface was smooth as glass and hair-thin strands of gold wove through it in artful patterns. It almost felt like he could see them move… He ingested the pill.

  Before he could even finish swallowing, he could feel its effects spread through his body. His breath deepened and his muscles relaxed on their own as the potent Water Qi washed away any imperfections that had been built up from other, less refined pills. Not willing to let any of the effects go to waste, Patriarch Lin didn’t waste any time to start cultivating. With the pill, his Dao embraced him like an old friend as he started contemplating its nature, willfully giving up answers to questions that he would have otherwise spent ours wracking his brain on. He could practically feel his progress…

  …Only to be torn out of his meditative trance a mere five minutes after he had started by the sound of his door being flung wide open.

  Patriarch Lin threw a piercing gaze at the one responsible. It was one of his attendants, clearly distressed and severely out of breath. He didn’t care for the reason; he burst out in anger at the man:

  “What in the world are you doing here? I instructed you not to interrupt me for any reason!

  He could practically feel as valuable time he should’ve spent cultivating under the effect of the pill ran away.

  “B-b-but Patriarch…”

  “Speak your piece before I decide on your punishment.”

  “Patriarch, an army is approaching the sect!”

  “And what kind of idiot thinks that would warrant…”

  Patriarch Lin stopped mid-sentence as his mind started processing what he had just been told. He closed his mouth, then opened it again to respond but closed it once more for a lack of words that came to his mind. Finally, after several seconds of silence, he managed to answer.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “What?”

  “A messenger has reported an army on horseback approaching the sect from the northeast. They are flying the banners of the Roaring Thunder Sect!”

  All anger he had felt had spontaneously evaporated. In its place, only a chill ran down his spine.

  “How long until they are here?”

  “About an hour, maybe two.”

  “Alert everyone. Disciples and servants incapable of battle will move into the palace at once. Everyone else is to fully arm themselves. Somebody needs to get out the arrows from the storage and distribute them along the walls.”

  With that, Patriarch Lin jumped up and stormed out of the room without looking back. He needed to activate the defensive formations.

  …

  Liu Wei opened his eyes as he slowly wrapped up his meditation. Another day, another solid piece of progress. Getting stronger had become all the more important now, that the future seemed more unpredictable than ever and though the road to the next stage was a long one, every step taken now rather than later was a good thing.

  For now, though, he had other things to attend to. Later today, he would have a meeting with his faction, the first one since the tournament, and he wanted to see the Training Hall’s managers before that. Since news of the war had broken, requests for their member training program had already risen by half and he wanted to use the influx of capital to further improve the standard of training the disciples enjoyed.

  For that, he needed the cooperation of the Alchemy Hall. He’d talk to Ma Rong at the meeting, but he’d need to consult his managers about the specific numbers beforehand. He also needed to check if they needed new personnel again, though he wanted to be careful before hiring too many. They couldn’t be sure that this new interest would remain stable after all.

  He sighed. Managing a hall was hard work, even when he already had dozens of people helping him with it. No wonder most other elders just gave their subordinates a free reign. But the Training Hall needed to be supervised, especially in its current phase of growth and expansion. He couldn’t leave things up to chance, when the outcome concerned the lives of all of the sect’s outer disciples!

  Liu Wei left his room and got going. Stepping out on the busy street, he took a deep breath of fresh air and let his gaze wander around. The buildings were clean and elegant, many having been completely renovated and all the remaining ones having been fully repaired. Freshly fallen leaves decorated the otherwise cleanly swept streets in their vibrant shades of red and orange. A group of disciples was so absorbed in a lively debate about the contents about Professor Lei’s last speech that they didn’t even notice his presence as they passed by him on their way from one class to the next.

  A smile crossed Liu Wei’s lips. Who even was he to complain?

  After walking for a while, he stopped at one particular training court. Chonglin was in the back, practicing the martial art he had received for his performance in the tournament. He had been wise to pick one that he could start training even at his current stage of cultivation, though it still seemed to give him plenty of challenge to even perform the first steps. Nothing time couldn’t fix though.

  In the center, Zixin and Qiao were preparing for a bout. Qiao had put on weights around her wrists and ankles to slow her down, ostensibly to make the fight more even. It was hard to wrap one’s head around the amount of strength and martial talent that she hid in her small frame. Liu Wei was rather sure that she would’ve won the tournament, had the fight not been interrupted.

  The three hadn’t let up in their training after the tournament. If anything, they seemed even more eager to grow than ever. Cultivation-wise, they were still shackled by their age right now, so using their winnings would mostly need to wait a year or two. He was sure that they could hardly wait for it.

  Having finished their preparations and discussions, the two picked up their training swords and took on their starting positions.

  …

  Patriarch Lin stood atop the wall surrounding his sect and stared into the distance, where an army of over five-hundred horses was approaching the sect. His worst fears were coming to fruition.

  “These are war-banners. They aren’t passing by, and they don’t want to parlay. They are attacking us!”

  The elders who had surrounded him remained silent at the statement, fear written over their faces. Patriarch Lin shared their sentiment, but he couldn’t allow it to impede his actions.

  “Everyone, assume positions around the wall. We have a numerical advantage over them, so they are going to concentrate their attacks on one side. We will answer with arrows while they are struggling to break through our formations. From what our monitoring formation tells us, they only have a single Dao Contemplation cultivator on their side. Focus your fire on them and have all other Dao Attunement Realm members do the same. If they break through, I will personally take them on while you hold off the remaining attackers. Go!”

  The elders dispensed while Qiang Lin pulled his sword from his spatial ring. He starred at his own reflection that presented itself in the blade’s pristine surface. An heirloom from his great-grandfather, passed on from even before the sect’s foundation, the sword was masterfully smithed and in peak condition even after all this time. Something that couldn’t be said about its bearer.

  It had been a long time since he or his sword had seen proper battle, and he had to admit that he had truly let the training slip since then. His rather embarrassingly large belly was proof enough of that. And while his outward physical state meant next to nothing for his combat ability as a Dao Contemplation Cultivator, his lack of recent experience very much did.

  He would have to hope that whoever was leading the attacking army could be overwhelmed by his fourth stage cultivation and the supporting defensive formations.

  discord, if you feel so inclined.