Jintian surged forward, urgency fueling his desperate sprint. His lungs ached, his muscles burned, but neither of these things could slow him down. Liuwen was silent behind him, fists clenched tightly inside of his robe.
The smoke was thick in the air, billowing upwards with calamitous declaration. Along the way they saw small craters blown into the ground, earth heaved upward and scattered. But Jintian ran past it all, terror clutching his heart as his eyes finally landed on his home in the distance.
They quickly rumbled to a stop on the dirt path that led to his home. He turned to Liuwen. "I'm sorry, I-"
"Go!" Liuwen shouted, leaping from the cart to break into his own run toward the village. "We'll find each other afterward! Make sure your family is safe!"
Jintian needed no further prompting, sprinting up the dirt path as fast as he could. He begged in his heart for his family to be safe. His house was not on fire. His Father would likely be attempting to stop the blaze with the other villagers, but he would have instructed his mother and brother to stay.
However, that hope was crushed as he noticed a hole in the wall of his home the size of a person, the wood splintered inward, and suddenly he froze. There would not be a hole, unless…
Unless his village had been attacked.
Now choking on his own fear, he pounded up the steps to his home, barreling through the open doorway. Looking around wildly, a sharp scent suddenly stung in his nose. A scent he knew well, from all of the hunting he had done throughout his life.
The smell of blood.
He shakily took a few steps forward. His heart pounded in his ears, terror choking his breath away. He took a step into the dining room, and…
Collapsed to his knees, his mind going blank. In front of him, at the dinning room table, was a body lying facedown in a pool of blood. Just past it, were a set of small feet laying in the hallway, partially hidden from view.
"No…" Jintian whispered, crawling forward. He slowly turned the body over, seeing his father's lifeless eyes staring up at him, and then felt his throat closing as he looked towards the small body in the hall. A coldness spread through him, a cold that could not be fought or resisted. He slowly crawled toward the small body, also lying face down in a pool of blood, and drew him into his arms.
His brother. His baby brother.
Dead.
He hugged him close to his chest, stroking his hair as the numbness pooled out of him, just like the blood had pooled out of his family. In its place was a grief so profound that he could not even shed tears.
He rocked his brother in his arms, memories of his laughter, his sheepish grin, his conversation with him just two days prior, his… his…
But all of that was gone now. All that was left was his brother's lifeless gaze.
He carefully, gently, laid his brother next to their father. He closed their eyes, bowing his head as he came to the realization that his family was dead.
No…
Not dead.
Murdered.
He screamed, so loudly and so fiercely that his voice immediately shattered, his throat caking with blood as his entire body contracted with visceral rage. He looked at the two bodies, the hatred in his heart growing so fierce that it made him tremble, before he realized… that there were only two bodies.
His mother and his sister were not among them.
Gasping, he choked back the rage, the grief, buried them both deep in his heart as cold clarity washed over him. The other two might still have been alive. He needed to find them.
Exploding upwards, he bounded up the stairs, searching through the rest of the house but finding no trace of his remaining family. He then shouldered his way into his room, and found that his father's sword was gone.
Had his mother taken it? Had the attackers?
Neither answer mattered. He rushed down the steps, pausing briefly to look back at the two bodies and screwing his eyes shut to force away his tears. Then, he ran to the barn.
The cows inside were restless, mooing over each other. He ignored them, grabbing a pitchfork that had been stabbed into a pile of hay, and sprinted towards the village.
As he neared the village proper, he could hear faint screams echoing through the buildings. The smoke stung his eyes and his lungs, the roaring blaze scalding him with its heat, and he ignored it all.
Eyes hunting, he froze as he saw a small pair of eyes hidden beneath the steps of one of the houses that had not caught on fire yet. Hesitating, he rushed over to them.
"Jintian!?" The person underneath the house whispered, and he nodded, leaning down. He gasped as he saw Feng Yu's face peek out hesitantly from underneath the steps.
"You're alright!" He exclaimed, relief pouring into him. She nodded, and he gritted his teeth, looking over his shoulder at the burning haze of the village. He then turned back to her. "What happened here!?"
Feng Yu swallowed thickly, her eyes wide with fear. "I don't… there were three men who arrived at the village earlier today. They all wore azure colored robes. They were asking about a sword, about a warrior who might have come here twenty or so years ago. We told them… about your father, and how he had died after leaving for the Three States War. After that they left, but… they came back, demanding to know where 'the woman' had fled to. We assumed they were talking about your mother."
Tears fell down her cheek. Jintian placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly, and she took a deep breath. "We told them we didn't know, and they demanded to search every house. When we resisted…" Her eyes flickered to the state of the village.
Jintian's breath caught, his mind racing as guilt and grief plagued him. His father's sword? All of this was happening because of his father's sword?
The thought was so ridiculous that bitter laughter sprang from his mouth, and Feng Yu looked at him with concern. Shaking his head, he squeezed her shoulder again. "Li Liuwen is looking for his family, but I'll let him know you're safe. Stay here, and stay hidden, unless the fire reaches you."
She nodded, and after a moment of hesitation, bit her lips. "Jintian, you cannot fight them. They… they use magic. I saw one of them flying." She whispered urgently, and shock filled Jintian.
Eventually, he took a deep breath, his grip tightening around the pitchfork as he nodded. Giving him one last look, Feng Yu crawled back underneath the house. Jintian rose, looking around for a few brief moments before he took off running again.
The smoke became thicker as he ventured deeper into the village, and he held his shirt over his nose. He was heading towards Liuwen's house, just a few moments of breath away, when the wall to his friend's home exploded outwards.
Eyes widening, he watched as a burly man in an azure robe exited the house, dragging his friend along the floor by his robe. Liuwen was kicking and punching against him, but the azure robed man didn't even seem to notice.
He jumped down to the street, dragging him with the ease one might carry a reluctant child as Liuwen continued to struggle fiercely. Jintian clenched his jaw, his breathing coming quick and fast as rage constricted his vision.
"YOU!" He roared, charging forward. The azure robed man turned to face him, his expression coolly apathetic as he watched Jintian approaching. Liuwen looked at Jintian, his face flickering with surprise.
"Jintian! No, don't-" But it was too late for him to call out any warning.
Jintian stabbed toward the man, his muscles rippling powerfully as he delivered all of his hatred, all of his rage into the strike. The azure robed man didn't so much as blink as the pitchfork's prongs stabbed into him.
Or at least… they should have. But Jintian felt like he had struck against a boulder, and watched in shock as the shaft of his pitchfork shattered from the force of the blow, wood splintering as he stumbled forward.
He felt blinding pain as the man's hand flashed forward, fingers digging into his skull as he grabbed his face and slammed him into the dirt. Jintian coughed, scrabbling at the arm pinning him down.
"Young master, I found another one." The man said quietly above him. There was a moment's pause. "Understood. I'll put him with the others."
Jintian felt his airway close as the man gripped him tightly around the throat, squeezing the air from him and dragging him along with Liuwen. He clawed desperately against his arm. His eyes bulged, his face growing more and more purple. He heard Liuwen shouting for him, but could not focus on it. Eventually, his resistance became more and more feeble, until finally his arms hung limply at his sides.
The azure robed man tossed them both into the village square, and Jintian coughed and sputtered as air returned to him once more. Liuwen helped him up into a sitting position, and Jintian looked around.
The blaze was the most intense here, the village engulfed in an inferno on all sides. The smoke was heavy and thick, while the heat scorched his lungs. He was in a small group of sixteen or so people, and the others were looking at their home being burned to the ground, weeping or staring in a daze.
He heard more screams as another azure robed man, this one slimmer and older, carried a young girl by the hair before tossing her into their group.
His jaw clenching, Jintian was just about to stand when he felt a hand tug him downward. He saw one of the village elders there, Bai Yungao, shaking his head quietly. "They'll kill you." He murmured, and Jintian reluctantly stayed sitting.
Liuwen sighed, looking around with a lost expression on his face. He then turned to Jintian."Your family, were they…" He did not need to finish the question, the expression on his friend's face enough of an answer. He laughed bitterly, looking up at the sky.
Jintian forced the rage back down, trying to regain clarity. "I saw Feng Yu. She's safe, for now, hiding." He said, and Liuwen nodded gratefully to him. He then turned his attention to the front of the group, where he saw a young man about his age watching them all, his hands clasped behind his back. His hair fluttered in the wind, and his eyes shone with a watchful, intelligent glint.
He leaned down to the elder who'd stopped him from rising. "Who is he?" He whispered, and the elder sighed.
"The other two refer to him as 'Young Master'. Though I heard one of them say the name 'Wu Mingjie', while talking with each other." Bai Yungao whispered back, and Jintian curled his fists tighter.
Wu Mingjie, he chanted to himself as vile hatred flared inside of him, vowing to never forget the name for as long as he lived. Wu Mingjie. Wu Mingjie.
After another ten or so more people had been brought back, Feng Yu and his mother and sister thankfully not among those that were, Wu Mingjie held up a hand to stop his two servants from going back out into the village. He then raised his chin.
"Mortal people of this village." He began, his voice clear despite the roar of the blaze around him. "I only asked you all one simple question. There is a woman among you, who hid herself with the object we seek. A sword, belonging to a warrior who no doubt was not known to you before arriving in your village twenty years ago."
Silence reigned, and the man sighed emotionally. "It is of dire importance that we find this sword. Left in your hands, mortal hands, it can only invite disaster upon you. We sought to take this terrible burden that had been laid so carelessly on your shoulders, and bear it for you. But were we met with welcome? Were we met with cooperation?"
At this a few cries rang out, though the two servants stepping forward quieted them once more. Wu Mingjie shook his head. "I really feel like I am not asking for too much. There was no need for all of this… violence. We just want the sword, and then we will leave."
At this, a faint murmur spread among the group. Liuwen and Bai Yungao beside Jintian tensed as a few eyes landed on him.
The glances didn't escape Wu Mingjie, and he looked over at Jintian curiously. "Young sir, do you perhaps know something about this sword?" He asked, and Jintian gnashed his teeth, exploding to his feet. He shrugged off Yungao's and Liuwen's hands as they tried to pull him back down, the hatred in his heart too fierce to ignore.
"It was my father's sword, you whoresons. You killed my brother, and my stepfather, to try and steal it from our home." He spat, and shocked gasps rang out, hands flying over mouths as weeping spread between the village. Shen Anjia and Shen Xiacheng had both been loved dearly by the people.
Wu Mingjie's eyes sparkled, as he looked Jintian up and down. "Your father, you say?" He asked, and ground his teeth so tightly that he felt them creaking.
"Yes. He perished shortly after I was born." He snarled, and Wu Mingjie nodded thoughtfully.
"So that would have been your mother, then, that ran off with it." He stated, and a cold realization filled Jintian. Wu Mingjie gestured towards him with a hand. "Grab him."
The burly man flickered, appearing next to Jintian in a blur. The hatred burned hot in his chest, and he reflexively punched outward. The man's head snapped to the side, his eyes widening in shock as he felt his nose. There, a small drop of blood could be seen leaking down from it.
Wu Mingjie also looked surprised. "Mortal, yet able to draw blood from a cultivator in the eighth circle of Qi Condensation?" He mused.
Jintian, seeing that he could wound him, immediately leapt upon him with vile fury. Screeching, he rained a flurry of blows toward his face, but the man simply snorted and backhanded Jintian across the cheek. There was a crack of splitting bone, Jintian's vision going dark as he was flung across the village square. The people of the village cried out, Liuwen leaping upward before being tackled back down by Bai Yungao.
Jintian rolled to a stop a few meters away, his cheek swollen as blood filled his mouth. The burly man wiped the blood from his nose and lips where Jintian's fists had connected, before walking through the crowd and grabbing him by the scruff of his tunic.
Jintian's head lolled to the side, still in a daze as he was dragged toward Wu Mingjie, forcefully raised to his knees to look up at him. His vision blurred, he just barely saw the hateful face of his father and brother's killer peering down at him. Wu Mingjie then raised his eyes.
"Woman, and the cultivator who's hidden her." He called. "I know you can hear me. If you do not show yourself, I will kill this boy."
When no answer came, Wu Mingjie sighed. "Very well." He raised his hand, preparing to strike down Jintian.
"DON'T YOU TOUCH MY SON!" A voice shrieked, and a woman could be seen appearing from thin air. A wrinkled hand attempted to grab her, but she rushed forward, the ceremonial sword clutched in her arms. The hand then disappeared once more as she raised the sword. "Here! Here damn you, take it and spare him!"
Jintian's mind was clouded with fog, but he recognized the voice of his mother. Wu Mingjie nodded, and the burly man let Jintian go. Shen Chunhua immediately ran to him, catching him before he slumped over and cradling him in her arms. She brushed his hair aside, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked hatefully up at Wu Mingjie.
The young man was inspecting the sword, panting as his hands trembled. "This is it!" He gasped, grasping the hilt. However, as soon as he did the sword shook in his grasp, groaning sonorously. He watched in shock as it wrenched itself free from him, shooting to land beside Shen Chunhua.
"A sword spirit!" He exclaimed, and the two servants beside him gasped. Wu Mingjie's eyes narrowed. "The sword spirit has bonded with those two mortals. For as long as they live, it will never bond with another."
The servants looked between each other, and began to step forward. Shen Chunhua knew what their intent was, and held tightly onto Shen Jintian.
However, just as the servants were about to strike, one of them was blasted away. The same wrinkled hand that had disappeared previously swam into existence, and an old man appeared, walking through a shimmering veil.
Kang Shanxi sighed, even as Wu Mingjie's eyes narrowed and the servant beside him took a defensive position. Then, the young man laughed. "So you've finally shown yourself, great expert." He said, and Kang Shanxi looked up at the sky.
"Jinbiao… what you feared has come to pass. Heaven has not forgotten your son." He murmured, so quietly that it was as if he had not spoken at all. He then turned to look at the azure robed men. "I am not the owner of that sword. But I owe him a blood debt."
He flicked his sleeve, and a faint breeze brushed along Jintian. The youth began to regain clarity and focus, as his cracked skull miraculously began to heal. Jintian looked at Kang Shanxi in a daze, while Chunhua's expression was grim. The old man shook his head.
"I do not know how long I can hold them off for. Chunhua, Jintian, you must flee!" As he said those last words, everyone in the village looked on as he stomped his foot powerfully. A wind rose around him, his white hair fluttering through the air, and Mingjie's jaw clenched.
"A failed Foundation Establishment. Half a step past Qi Condensation." He said, and Kang Shanxi nodded.
"I can afford to play with you for only a little bit." He said, and Mingjie snorted, immediately flying upwards into the air. Screams rang out in the village, as Kang Shanxin turned to look fiercely at Chunhua.
"Go!" He yelled, and she dragged her son to his feet. He was still somewhat dazed, but needed no further prompting as she grabbed the sword and fled.
Behind them, fierce booming sounds began to shake the earth, and the sky was painted with flashing, potent light. Jintian began to turn his head, but Chunhua squeezed his waist.
"Don't look back." She hissed. "We don't have the time. Don't look back, just keep running."
Jintian grunted, and finally, his wobbling steps began to grow more stable, his focus sharpening once again. Bending down, he scooped his mother into his arms, and began to run faster.
"Xiyun?" He asked tightly, his breathing labored. The smoke and fire had taxed his lungs, and though the strange technique Kang Shanxi had used helped, it did not save him completely.
"She's safe." Chunhua said. In a few short minutes, they were out of the village. "Not the house! Run toward the forest! Kang Shanxi's home is there, we will be safe as long as we reach it!"
Jintian nodded, veering off to the treeline in the distance. The booms echoed through the sky in the distance, but Jintian heeded his mother's words. As he ran, he panted, his breath coming in ragged gasps. But he could not stop the words from being spoken.
"You know… who those men… are." He panted, not as a question. His mother hesitated, but nodded.
"Not them specifically, but yes. Myself, Kang Shanxin, and your father knew those like them would come someday." She confirmed, and Jintian gritted his teeth. They were nearing the treeline, but Jintian did not dare slow down.
"Who… are they?" He asked, and she sighed, looking bitterly up at the sky.
"Cultivators." She whispered. "Immortals."
As they broke past the treeline, the forest rising high above them, Jintian shivered. The booming sounds behind them had stopped. "How… much longer…" He gasped, and his mother tightened her fists into his shirt.
"Just two more minutes. Just two minutes. Hurry!" She urged, and Shen Jintian drew deep within himself for energy his body desperately gave him to help him survive. They ran, and ran, and their expression darkened as they heard the sound of something crashing through the trees behind them, wood splitting and groaning as ancient timber was felled in quick succession. "It's just up ahead, hu-"
They both screamed as they were blasted to the side, Jintian's hold on his mother failing as his back slammed against a tree. He looked up, his vision swimming, to see Wu Mingjie standing there.
He was panting, one arm hanging limply by his side and his expression morphed ferociously. Blood soaked the front of his robes, and one of his eyes was screwed shut as a gash in his head bled profusely.
But he was there. Between them, and safety.
Despair swallowed Jintian, and he scrabbled to his feet. Wu Mingjie smiled coldly, before reaching down and grabbing Chunhua by her hair. He wrenched the sword from her, and Jintian roared as he charged forward.
Wu Mingjie took a deep, laborious breath, dropping Chunhua. Then, when Jintian got close…
He stabbed his now freed hand into Jintian's heart.
"NOOOOO!" Chunhua screamed, as Jintian looked down at the hand that had pierced through his chest. He sputtered, and gasped, choking as blood filled his throat and leaked out of his lips. Wu Mingjie wrenched his hand free, and Jintian crumpled to the earth, the light fading from his eyes.
Chunhua scrambled forward, holding Jintian in her arms as she tried to cover the hole with her hands. Tears streamed down her face, and she cradled him. Just as she had when he was only a baby.
Wu Mingjie looked down at the two of them, the sword in his hands vibrating fiercely. He drew it, the blade crying sorrowfully as it slid free from its sheathe.
"Let you be baptised, in this blood, and be reborn with a new master!" He declared. Chunhua closed her eyes, kissing the top of Jintian's head.
"When we are reincarnated, I hope to once again be born as your mother." She whispered, resting her cheek against his hair. And then, with one smooth cut, Wu Mingjie severed her head from her shoulders.
Looking down at the two of them, he took a deep breath, before flying up into the air. He had lost both of his servants, and had been grievously injured. But he'd found what he came for.
With a flash of light, he disappeared beyond the horizon.
However, as the sound of the forest stilled, the blood pooling into the earth around the two bodies, something strange happened.
The heirloom necklace that Chunhua had given him, soaked in Jintian's blood, began to vibrate. Once, and then twice, until it resembled a heartbeat. It then pushed itself into Jintian's chest…
And settled there, in his damaged heart. Forcing it to continue to beat.