Sword and Snow

It had been a little less than a month since I had left the Frozen Mountain Sect and begun my long trek to the Blooming Wilds Province. I had imagined that going through the Emerald Expanse would be easy, and it was. I was through the entirety of the grassy plains in barely three weeks.

The trip was relaxing, even. I traveled as an extra guard for a caravan, which helped me pay my way with work that was barely even work. In the nineteen days of travel, the caravan was only attacked twice. Once by roving demonic beasts of such middling power that even the non-Cultivator guards had been able to slay a couple.

The second was by starving bandits, who were even less of a problem than the beasts, due to their clear state of malnutrition. Despite feeling bad for the men and women that had ended up in such dire straits, there was nothing we could do once they had refused to stand down.

The rest of the trip had been essentially a leisurely stroll, broken up with sections of riding on a cart that turned out to be a surprisingly smooth ride. The most work I had really done was standing watch every other night as the guards rotated 3 hour shifts around each night.

After we made it to the edge of the Dying Lands, things quickly changed. I bade my first group farewell in a small town on the edge of the Province, apparently called ‘Refuge’ - so named for the obvious connotation. Many people that had ventured into the Dying Lands unprepared often retreated to this town for the safety offered by the Cultivators that regularly acted as the city watch.

Despite this, it was surprisingly easy to find caravans that were heading into the Dying Lands. Several departed each day, in fact, and many advertised themselves as well guarded and safe.

After a short break in Refuge for two days, I picked one and was on my way again. This time, I opted to pay my way through coin and not work. I had heard enough about the Dying Lands to be somewhat unsure of my ability to help in a dire situation. And when you offered to pay your way with guard duty, you were expected to perform or be at least injured trying. I wasn’t exactly looking to arrive at my destination maimed, so coin seemed like the better option.

Within the first day of leaving Refuge I could feel the difference in the caravan’s atmosphere. Everyone, from the caravaners to the guard were all on high alert at all times. Heads and eyes were darting all over watching for any signs of danger.

The remnants of the grasslands that had persisted a little ways past Refuge had quickly given way to the scarred semi-wasteland that categorized the Dying Lands. And within hours of crossing into the newer scenery, the caravan was attacked by a small pack of demonic beasts.

The beasts that had appeared in the Emerald Expanse were fairly normal looking creatures with the appearance of overgrown wolves. They had grayscale fur colors, but brightly colored tufts of fur around their necks that typically denoted some kind of elemental Qi affinity, and they were naturally adept at throwing around related elemental Qi.

The Dying Lands beasts were nothing so mundane. The roving pack of things that attacked us that first day looked like mutated mashups of other creatures. Some had mammalian features; others were reptilian. But none could be described as healthy looking. Mammal body parts would be missing skin or fur. Reptile parts were often scaleless or seemingly in the process of a botched molt. Their appearances alone were enough to make my skin crawl.

Thankfully, the guards along with us seemed unperturbed. I supposed it was because they had seen it all before.

At once, the nine guards with us lept into action. All of them were in the Sky Realm, one Realm above me, and it showed. Their attacks were sweeping and effective, wiping out small groups of the creatures with relative ease. One man, who appeared to be the leader of the group, fought with a flying sword style that was very impressive to watch. Not only did he direct the blade with such beautiful precision, but he was able to fight with his fists and feet while directing the weapon.

I didn’t recognize exactly what type of Qi he had Cultivated to wrap around his limbs while fighting, but it was clear to see the destruction he could cause with a punch or kick. He had a strong, well muscled figure that didn’t seem to quite match the grace he moved with, but that was standard Cultivator fare. His face was bare and shaved, giving him what I imagined was a younger impression than the truth. I would have said he was a handsome twenty-something, if not for his clear skill as a Cultivator. His true age was anyone’s guess.

Also of note was the woman that seemed to be focused mostly on supporting him. She was a flutist, and was incredibly skilled at directing her Qi through the instrument. Her figure cut quite the impressive sight. Despite there being a lack of wind in the air, her long robes seemed to be moving about in a wind - probably conjured from the sound waves of her flute. Her long dark hair fluttered about in the wind just as much, as though it had a life of its own. She looked decidedly older than the man, though not by much. I would have placed her in her later thirties, if not for a Cultivator’s lifespan.

She was using Qi directed through the soundwaves of her instrument to hamper enemies all over the battlefield, though especially around the man. The creatures would often lock up or trip as they got close, only to have their heads vaporized with a powerful punch or kick. Some of the ones toward the edge of the battle seemed to occasionally stagger, as if suddenly blind or otherwise disoriented. These often found a flying sword removing limbs or often skewering them entirely.

That first fight had left a strong enough impression on me that when night began to fall and the crew stopped for dinner and camp, I wanted to talk to the pair. During dinner, the guards had split up into groups to eat, and I saw my opportunity. Bowl of soup in hand, I walked over to the pair, who had taken up a spot a little toward the outside of the camp. They had called up chairs from a storage ring, I assumed, and were sitting and chatting.

As I approached, the woman noticed me first. I smiled, bowed my head, and asked, “Do you mind company? I wanted to talk to the two of you.”

“Not at all, please,” she said, motioning to the ground in front of them. I took the invitation and summoned a chair of my own to sit facing the two of them.

I bowed once more, politely. “I’m Avuri Axies, of the Frozen Mountain Sect. It’s a pleasure.”

The pair of them bowed in response. “I’m Eli Nunn. This is my-”

“His wife, Ettie Nunn.” The woman said, cutting him off, and offering another small incline of her head. “It’s a pleasure.”

Eli chuckled as he was cut off, and returned to eating his soup for the moment.

“I was very impressed earlier, during the fight.” I said, genially. “I was hoping you would sate my curiosity and explain the basics of your techniques to me? They’re so fascinating.”

Ettie smiled. “There’s not really all that much to explain, to be honest.” She continued to take bites of her soup while chatting. “Personally, I use a combination of sound and mental Qi to manipulate the sound of my flute to interfere with enemy movement. The techniques are individually quite diverse, and each requires a slightly different defense to deal with. It makes it easy for me to target different vulnerabilities in someone's defenses as the situation demands.”

Her smile turned slightly sharp and predatory. “Mental Qi is unbelievably good at cutting off signals from the mind to the body. Causing things like loss of control of a limb, clouding one’s thoughts, or even causing lack of hearing or sight is relatively easy unless the person is already prepared to mentally defend themselves.”

As she mildly continued to eat, I shivered at the implications. Especially given that I was unsure of how to defend myself from such an attack.

Eli picked up there, stopping me from thinking about it all too hard. “I imagine you’re familiar with the typical metal Qi used with flying swords.”

I nodded in response to the statement.

“The other half of what I can do,” he began, raising a hand in gesture, “is fairly simple physical strengthening with storm Qi.” With a flex of his hand, I felt a sudden, strong gust of wind surge from him. “With good enough control, I can condense the Qi around my limbs. With contact, it essentially tears the victim apart with violent winds.”

“That sounds incredible. Well - it was incredible. You were vaporizing pieces of those creatures on contact.” I said, as I tried to process the use of such a skill. It was more or less similar in design to my Blizzard Dragon technique, but designed to be used around the body instead of launched as a projectile…and his technique was many times stronger. Still, the idea was something I filed away for potential later study.

Eli and Ettie both laughed, and my eyes shot back up to meet theirs. “I won’t lie, girl. It’s entertaining to see someone from a fairly large Sect out here admiring our self-made techniques.” Eli said with a grin. “Normally most Sect members ignore us outright, if any even come this way. Many look down on guard work as a matter of course.”

I shrugged. “Well, as someone who currently needs that protection to get somewhere, I appreciate it. Even if the techniques themselves are ‘low-brow’,” I said with an eye roll, clearly denoting my sarcasm, “they clearly are effective in this place. Especially in tandem like you both showed today.”

Ettie’s face hardened in response to what I had said, though I wasn’t sure which part. Eli clarified for me shortly, though. “They may be effective against the relatively banal things we fought today. But there will be much more dangerous things to come.”

“Demonic Sect bastards.” Ettie muttered. She may have said it quietly, but Cultivator hearing was no small thing.

Eli nodded. “You’re almost guaranteed to see some more impressive demonic beasts out here, Miss Axies. And those will likely cause the caravan some trouble. Even with the nine guards we have, it wouldn’t be unusual for an unlucky caravanner to get singled out and…well, killed at the very least.”

My mouth went dry at that. I didn’t expect the guards to be so forward about their potential inability to protect everyone. I wasn’t too worried for myself, as I could likely defend myself until support arrived, but a non-Cultivator caravanner would like not.

“Still,” Eli continued, “That’s nothing compared to the demonic Sect that’s been running wild around this area lately. If they attack us in force, the whole caravan is in trouble.” Eli, Ettie, and I all looked around the caravan after that. There were the nine guards, three lower Realm Cultivators, including myself, and twelve other normal people.

Ettie let out a heavy, weary sigh. “Whether it's fortunate or not is entirely up for debate, but I think we’re more or less safe with this group. At least from the demonic Sect, anyway.”

Eli’s face took on a pained, disgusted look as he turned back to face his wife. Neither spoke for a moment, but I asked, “...And why is that?”

Ettie looked at her soup, disgusted. Apparently having lost her appetite, she put down the still half-full bowl.

“There are no children with us.”