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Mage's Cultivation Journey 7
🕑 Added 2025-06-15 21:39:13 +0000 UTCWang Bi’s knees ached from kneeling on the stone floor, the jagged cracks beneath him biting through cloth to dig into his flesh, making him bleed, but he didn’t dare to move. He was alone, but he didn’t dare to, not when waiting for the leader of the Black Wind Gang.
He focused on the dim torchlight dancing on the rough walls, hoping to forget his pain. But, the battle of the shadows, flickering like savage beasts clawing at the walls did not help. He wished that they were still back in the city, like they would have been if the coup had been as successful as they hoped, but things did not go as expected.
The son of the old leader, merely eleven years old, escaped, carrying both the deed for the land, and the Soul of the Storm, the famous drawing that carried the hint of wind intent that was fundamental to learn the advanced techniques of the Furious Wind Style. The magistrate of the city, ever the opportunist, sealed the school and declared them outlaws.
The building he was kneeling in was a part of the Black Wind Gang’s new stronghold, standing in the western cliffs, an abandoned trade outpost repurposed into a grim and functional fortress, both a symbol of their independence, and a part of their punishment.
He had been proud when they first moved. It might be less opulent than the city, but it didn’t matter. Unlike the city where he had to bow to any guard, government official, and wandering martial artist stronger than him, he was a part of the ruling class here, free to boss around the weaklings they kidnapped to work as servants. Even the weaker members weren’t free of his bullying thanks to his abilities, already at the peak of the Initiate realm.
The pain that lashed through his chest whenever he moved, sharp enough for him to ignore his bloodied face, reminded him that those days might be over. Even after a day, the pain in his chest hadn’t faded. It burned with every breath, a reminder of the monk’s cursed touch, a casual gesture that had unraveled everything.
He wished that he trusted his gut and never challenged him, but his fear of their leader kept him back. Sima Li had always been a hard, dangerous man, even back when he was merely the Senior Instructor, and kept back by the power of the Master of the Furious Wind School. The fear Wang Bi felt toward him multiplied ten times since the rebellion.
All of his martial might was gone, and his foundation shattered into nothingness, forcing him to release almost all of the internal energy he managed to collect, pushing him back to the beginner stages of Initiate Realm. Unless the leader decided to bequeath him with a precious recovery pill, his future was gone.
But, as the footsteps reached his ear, approaching from behind, all his concerns about his martial future dissipated, replaced by a much more visceral fear.
There was no mistaking the bubbling pressure, even passively enough to destroy his will. The Leader was angry. He trembled, unable to resist the pressure of a Connate martial artist, suffocating.
It didn’t disappear once he stood in front of Wang Bi, but intensified. “Look at me,” he ordered. Helpless, Wang Bi raised his gaze, taking in the sight in front of him. he was tall and broad-shouldered, his body wrapped in tight black leather that barely concealed the bulk of muscle beneath. His beard, once kept trimmed in the fashion of a senior martial teacher, had grown into a wild, graying mane. A crimson sash cut across his chest, a practical tool holding many throwing knives.
Yet, none of those details struck him as hard as his eyes. Sharp, domineering, and the worst part, angry. “I sent you to collect a boy with a ruined martial foundation. All you needed was to grab him silently, and bring him to me,” he said, his tone calm despite the fury in his eyes. That was worse. “Yet, you failed.”
Wang Bi swallowed, trying not to tremble, but it was in vain. “Yes, Leader. You did—” he started, trying to come up with the best way to explain the situation that would secure his recovery.
“Then, explain to me how you managed to antagonize an expert for no reason instead fulfilling my very simple command. A monk, nonetheless, famous for not involving themselves in mortal disputes.”
Wang Bi froze at his tone, realizing the situation might be even more troubling than he had first realized. He tried to avoid his gaze, but his internal energy, radiating off him in waves, kept him immobile. Wang Bi bit the inside of his cheek. The taste of blood steadied him. “I’m sorry, great leader. I failed you,” Wang Bi admitted, realizing the seriousness of the situation.
“Pathetic,” he declared. “Did you at least learn the temple he belonged to?” Wang Bi shook his head, his heart sinking in despair. The leader turned and began to pace slowly. “Tell me again. From the beginning. Every word.”
Wang Bi obeyed to the best of his ability, but his memories had been colored with intense pain, making it difficult to remember much, like a bad dream. As he went on, the expression of his leader tightened, making Wang Bi fear for his life. “He didn’t use internal energy,” he added, at last, hoping that it would save his life.
The leader froze. “What do you mean?”
“I … I felt no internal energy. Not even a hint. It was what encouraged me to test him, but it wasn’t concealment. Even when he attacked me, I felt nothing. First, my technique flared. Then … pain.”
His eyes widened, and for the first time, Wang Bi saw something other than absolute confidence in his eyes. Something that was supposed to be impossible.
Fear.
“Are you sure!” he gasped. Wang Bi nodded. He leaned down, grabbing his shoulder, and his internal energy, strong and domineering, invaded his body, scouring every part of his meridians, cutting them into pieces. Pain hit him even harder than his previous injury, his shouts coming out unbidden.
“M-master, please,” he gasped.
“Shut up,” he said and touched his neck. Wang Bi felt his chest constrict, his ability to breathe gone, making it impossible to speak. He realized it was the end. The leader had no intention of sparing him.
Worse, the leader didn’t even look at him, instead concentrating with closed eyes. “No hint of any internal energy but his … impossible. Could it really be a cultivator?” he gasped.
At that moment, Wang Bi truly realized his own lack of importance. He wasn’t being executed because of his failure. No, it was a mere side effect, one that didn’t even deserve an explanation, while the leader, no, Sima Li, focused wholly on understanding the true nature of the monk.
Only then, did he realize what a terrible mistake he had committed by supporting Sima Li. The old master of the school might have never paid much attention to him, but he had never treated any student as a disposable tool.
He should have stood against him. Not that his strength could have changed anything. But, at least, he would have died in a fight, with his honor, rather than being disposed like a bug.
“No hint of internal energy. Must be Qi,” Sima Li declared, and reached his belt, pulling some kind of green stone.
He crushed half of it, and a voice reached him. And old, grating voice, one that managed to scare Wang Bi even as he was about to die. “I told you don’t reach me unless it was an emergency,” the voice said, the disdain clear.
Surprising, but not as much as Sima Li’s reply. “This lowly one apologize, exalted one, but we have an emergency, and it might impact your plans,” he said, his tone utterly subservient. Shocking. What kind of man could earn such respect from a great Connate Master. “My men had detected a potential cultivator, a monk, and …”
“One of those bald donkeys!” the voice responded, sharp.
Wang Bi wished that he could smile, but as he looked at the edge of death, he knew it was impossible. Still, that didn’t prevent him from feeling a perverse satisfaction, as the mention of the monk was enough to scare him completely.
More importantly, while he was giving the description, he focused on everything about the clothing and insignia of the monk, but he never mentioned his hair. And, the monk he faced was not bald.
He had no idea whether it was important, but as the darkness closed in, he chose to believe that it was important. That way, he could believe he had taken his revenge on the man who discarded his loyalty without a thought.
That was the last thing he managed to think before the darkness overwhelmed him…
