Fate's Attendant 1.5

Hong Fei knew that something had happened to Ling. The question he faced as a result was in which direction he should flee. Going forward meant death and to north was the cliff overlooking the Tistkil River. That left either climbing the mountain to go around the danger or reversing directions to return to Blue Lotus City.

There was money in Hong Fei’s pouch now; he could afford the fee for a carriage, and a reputable company might not be stopped by soldiers investigating the disappearance of one of their own. Or they just might stop everyone, using it as an excuse to search through belongings and confiscate anything deemed of interest.

Meanwhile, the mountain wouldn’t be safer. Upon it resided creatures capable of killing a spirit beast as powerful as the giant badger. Truly, danger lurked in every direction, but which would be the most exhausting? Which held the promise of the most benefit?

Forward or backward, he thought, tapping his finger on Ling’s card.

Hong Fei warily eyed the southwest—partially up the mountain yet also close to the path the giant badger had taken. It would let him swing around trouble, but only if the creature that killed the spirit beast hadn’t gone wandering afterward.

Though Ling had treated him like a cherished nephew, he had to recognize that there had been a lot of meat on her bones. A predator would need time to eat it all, and feeling sated, the creature wouldn’t go searching for new prey. This was the nature of the thoughts whispering through Hong Fei’s mind—a cold calculation at odds with the sentimentality of his heart.

With a groan, he pushed himself up to standing and returned the card to the satchel. The southwest it would be, and once he was in Ruby Swift City and sure of his safety, he’d take the time to mourn Ling. He would add her to the list of the dead to be remembered.

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Hong Fei cursed the mountain and every bush that impeded him as he trod carefully over the slippery, uneven ground. He’d barely traveled a hundred zhang in the time it took for the sun to travel a handspan across the sky. Already, he was panting, and sweat rolled down into his eyes.

Twigs poked at him; sometimes they broke free and traveled with him, lodged in his clothes. There was one plant type, with broad leaves and stems dotted with yellow circles, that especially liked to cling. Those leaves left his face and arms covered in small, painful scratches.

Hong Fei walked through a spider’s web and stopped to pull the delicate strings off. He swept his hands through his hair and across his shoulders and sleeves. A small spider fell away. It landed on a leaf, then scurried along the green road toward the bush’s trunk.

As the day had grown warmer, the number of insects had also risen. In addition to the scratches, Hong Fei had also accumulated several welts where he’d been bitten. He pledged that if he came across a way down to the road, he would take it, fate and imperial soldiers be damned.

Hong Fei continued onward, and he relied on stubborn persistence to see him through until that alternate path could be found. His focus narrowed dangerously, contracting around the immediate need to watch where he stepped, to maintain his balance, and to ignore the weakness in his limbs to keep on pushing branches and fronds out of his way.

The animals and insects mocked his slow pace by scurrying while he plodded, but any progress was still progress. The length of a foot, a chi, multiplied by ten turned into a zhang. One hundred fifty zhang strung together equaled a li. And so, even great and difficult distances might be traveled if one had the determination.

Hong Fei hiked through the forest for nearly three li before leaning against a tree trunk and holding onto its branches to let it support his weight. He worried that if he sat, he wouldn’t be able to stand again. Another three li was required of him; that was the minimum he’d decided was necessary to be safe from immediate danger.

As he gathered his strength for the next push, he felt a rippling across the back of his right hand. A centipede over two-chi long, its carapace a deep jade bordering on black in color, crawled from the trunk onto his arm. Each segment was about the length of a knuckle bone, and its antennae swung back and forth as it moved.

Hong Fei quickly stepped back and flicked the creature flew off, but not before he felt a sharp pain on his forearm. The burning feeling quickly intensified, radiating out from where he’d been bitten.

Left-handed, he pulled the scabbard from his belt and jabbed the centipede with the tip. That broke the creature in two, leaving both halves wriggling aimlessly. Hong Fei next smashed the head directly, which put a stop to the legs’ twitching.

He grimaced as he wiped the bug’s innards from the scabbard and placed it back on his belt. Rolling up his sleeve, he saw that the area around the bite was starting to swell and inflame. His arm felt like it was on fire from the tips of his fingers to the point of his elbow.

The only venomous creatures he’d dealt with in his career as a soldier were the pit vipers and the scorpions of the steppe. Both were known to inflict painful wounds, but they were rarely fatal, especially to the Body-Forged soldiers of Hong Fei’s troop. Alas, he no longer had access to the antidotes the army provided. He’d have to bear the pain and hope his body withstood the venom now flowing through it.

The bushes behind Hong Fei rattled, and Fortune’s Favor slid free once more, the scabbard arcing up and over in a single-handed draw to strike at his rear. The attack clacked against the hard carapace of a giant centipede whose head was the size of a small dog.

Spirit beast! Hong Fei thought. Then he realized his strike had passed through a ghostly number four floating above the creature’s head.

Hong Fei stepped back in alarm, and a second look revealed that the centipede was at least a zhang long, with each of its legs tipped by sharp claws. Its body oozed a pale, yellowish ichor from a multitude of cuts across its length. The creature had recently survived a vicious fight against an evenly matched opponent.

Hong Fei’s eyes darted to the bushes behind the centipede, but there was no giant badger in pursuit. Still, the number four made it clear—this creature was the “natural treasure” that Ling had sought.

The centipede scurried to Hong Fei’s left, and he circled with it while also retreating toward a gap between the trees and bushes, so that he could swing Fortune’s Favor unimpeded. He drew on the essence in his kidneys and in the marrow of his bones, and sent it to his lower cauldron. The fire from the earlier centipede’s bite dimmed in the wake of the essence running wild.

Hong Fei sucked his breath through clenched teeth. Every bit of his skill was needed to keep his movements stable and orderly. With only his left arm working, he turned his body in a fencer’s stance.

The centipede lunged, and Hong Fei parried, Fortune’s Favor striking his opponent’s head while he simultaneously sidestepped the attack. His essence-powered blow hadn’t been enough to deflect it entirely.

Encouraged by Hong Fei’s apparent weakness, the centipede prepared a more vigorous attack. Its head lifted like a snake about to strike, exposing the wounds along its underside. Unlike the cuts on the thicker carapace on its back, these appeared to be clotting over with a whitish gel.

One chance, Hong Fei thought, marking those areas.

A true swordsman used his whole body while wielding the weapon, so the essence inside him scalded his legs, his arms, his back, and his core in preparation. He had enough energy for the strike; he would make it so.

The centipede lunged again, but this time Fortune’s Favor dipped, the tip of the scabbard unerringly rising afterward to meet the crease between two segments covered in whitish gel. Ling had already opened the carapace for him. The wound squished as Fortune’s Favor sank into it.

Hong Fei used the leverage to flip the creature onto its back, pressing down with the last of his essence until he heard a crunch from inside its body. The centipede flailed, and he immediately withdrew. Otherwise, he risked being caught by the rear of its body curling—the claws reached for anything and everything, even twisting upon themselves.

Keeping his feet, he watched the centipede’s death throes. He brought out the dead soldier’s knife and hoped to the heavens he wouldn’t need it.

Eventually, the spasms slowed. The jerking of the legs halted, and the number four floating above the centipede’s head disappeared.

Hong Fei felt a cool breeze. For a moment, his mind stilled, the wind blowing through it and down into his body. He’d never experienced anything like it before, but there was no time for wondering. The debt for using his broken cultivation was due. He retrieved Fortune’s Favor and stumbled away from the dead centipede, pushing through the bushes in the way, before catching onto a tree, sliding down to its base, and falling unconscious.

Above Hong Fei, the sun traveled across the sky. Clouds came and went, leaving a light rain behind. From the other side of the intervening bushes came the sound of a carapace being cracked open and innards being sucked joyfully from inside.

Nothing bothered the man at the base of the tree, however. The forest let him sleep.

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