Chapter 47- What Defines A Heretic

It wasn’t a rope dart. It was some ancient wasteland monster disguised as a rope dart. That was Tian’s immediate impression. The rope had doubled in length, now some twenty feet long and made of a fiber that flexed like silk but was harder than steel. A ripple of vital energy along the length raised thousands of sharp fibers that angled away from the head. He could control where they emerged with Snake Head Vine Body. Even a light touch with his finger produced a bead of blood.

The dart at the head had changed from a plain steel spike. It had an organic feel to it, almost melted. Smooth and matte black, it was twice as long as his hand and almost as wide as his palm at the base, but it narrowed to a wickedly sharp point. As though the material was pulled forward, twisted, then pinched off. The weight of it was so comfortable in his hand, he never wanted to let it go.

“I love it. Thank you, Senior Sister. Thank you very much!”

“You haven’t even tried it yet. Take it out back and test it out. If there are any problems, better we find them now than later.”

“I’m sure it’s perfect, Senior.”

“Flattery will win you no discounts. Go try it out.” Sister Li rolled her eyes and shooed him out towards the testing ground behind the crafting building.

The first thing Tian noticed was the change in weight. Every move carried more power and momentum, but equally, it required greater strength and control over his weight. Each movement, and particularly every change of direction and recovery, put a strain on his body. It wasn’t unbearable, but it would take some adjustment.

He whipped the rope dart around himself, slowly working in Light Body, Heavy Hands. Learning to coordinate the shifts in his vital energy with the movement of the chain. He flicked the dart out, watching it fly light as a feather and land heavy as a mace on the target. The top of the wooden post exploded. Before the dart hit the ground, he shook the long rope and wrapped the thigh-thick wood. He flexed his vital energy and yanked back. The sharp barbs ripped the dense wood into a blizzard of small splinters and dust.

“Amazing!”

“Tell me that after you have had to clean it a few times.”

“Pardon, Senior Sister?”

“Bits get trapped under the barbs. Wood, flesh, cloth, whatever. You need to clean them out before you can really use it again. I have seen some people manage it with Snake Head, Vine Body, but apparently it’s a little tricky.” Sister Li leaned up against the doorframe, looking a little bored and a little pleased.

Tian examined the rope, and it was just as she said- little bits of wood were trapped, unable to fall out easily. He tried flexing the barbs even more, but there was a definite limit to how wide they would stretch. He flicked the rope a few times, trying to shake them out. Most of the splinters fell out, but not all of them.

“Thank you for the reminder, Senior Sister. I will keep practicing.”

She gave him another look, then snorted. “And now you look your age.”

“Pardon?”

“You always act so proper. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile like that.”

“Oh. Well. It’s the tradition of the West Town Outer Courtyard. Or at least the tradition of Senior Brother Fu. He’d be disappointed in me if I wasn’t being proper.”

“I wonder. Wait. West Town Fu? Mad Dog Fu?!”

“Em. I have heard people call him that, but I really don’t understand it. He’s the kindest person I know.”

Sister Li laughed, a short, barking sound. “I do see a surprising number of Inner Court members who come from West Town. Maybe he changed. Go. Bring your Senior Brother some honor and kill your way back to camp.”

Tian didn’t know if Sister Li’s words were a blessing or a curse. On the way back, he ran into a solitary heretical cultivator. The man was well concealed, but Counter-Jumper let him smell wisps of some strange smoke on the heretic. Tian tried to ambush him, but the heretic was wary and launched an attack of his own as soon as Tian got near.

The two danced back and forth, rope dart against cruel-hooked glave. The bearded heretic was dreadfully strong, and surprisingly agile. His glave moved like a snake, struck like lightning and sliced like the desert wind. His martial arts might not look polished, but they were brutal and effective. Tian was hard pressed to keep his distance and to try and find an advantage.

Tian had Light Body, Heavy Hands. The heretic did not. He lacked a light body art of any kind, and if he knew an attacking art for the Glave, he wasn’t able to display it. Tian thought he was roughly Level Six, but his lack of combat arts made him fight below his actual level. After the initial clash, the initiative never left Tian’s hands.

After four rounds back and forth, Tian snagged the man’s ankle with the tail end of his rope as the heretic blocked the dart smashing down on his head. One sharp rip and the foot separated entirely from the leg, bone fragments and gore flying everywhere.

“I surrender.”

“That would be helpful, thank you.” Tian kept his rope moving as the bearded heretic tried to hop back with his glave.

“I know where the treasure is hidden! Kill me and you will never find it!”

“Okay.” The rope lashed out. The bearded man swore and tried to block the dart while balanced on one foot. Tian rushed in and smashed his palm against the heretic’s chest. The penetrating force turned heart, veins, meridians, lungs, even the dantian, into rotted trash. And like that, the fight was over.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

There were a few spirit crystals on the heretic and a few animal parts. A scripture was written on a tanned bit of hide- “The Art of Fire and Smoke.” It was a cultivation manual. Tian didn’t need any particular expertise to see it was trash. You cultivated by burning people on a fire and inhaling the smoke of their charing bodies. The higher the cultivation level of the sacrifice, the greater the supplement.

There was nothing at all about a treasure. Even the storage ring was smaller than Tian’s.

“This broke bastard.” Tian shook his head. “I can see why they are invading. They are poor as hell.”

They are, but look at his forearm.

Tian saw ten or so marks fading away, each the character for “iron.”

“Iron Gorge or whatever it was called?”

Black Iron Gorge.

“Military Merits or something?”

Or something. No bounty for this fellow though. At least not that I saw in the Mission Hall.

“I wonder what he was doing out here. Do you think there might actually be a treasure?”

If there was, he would have stayed as far away from you as possible. No need to rob if you are off to loot an even bigger treasure.

Tian looked around the red sand and shattered rock of the waste, and sighed. “I didn’t think so either.”