— The Emperor's Imperial Record, Entry No. 32 —
Azul jolted up and puked.
When he came up for air, his breath was shallow.
He heaved.
Then the tanner blinked, stared at the ceiling, and then at the many crumpled-up designs that littered his bedroom floor.
"Where am I?" He mumbled, looking around some more, then he remembered, it was his home.
The last thing he remembered was the bard, and the drinks, and the girl…the girl!
He had made a promise. He shot up from the bed, but then fell down instantly, grabbing his head like he had just been hit with a hammer.
The drinks from last night had not fully left his body.
He rushed for some water, running on all fours, and gulped it down, getting rid of the stinging pain and his dry mouth.
His mind was starting to clear up. He had made a promise to that girl and that cunning butler, something about a dog? Spirit beast? He had gotten something? 'Curses!' The Mirror Leopard!
Azul held his head and groaned, cursing his past self for making him agree to such foolishness. He'd said he would meet the butler at high noon today, at Lady Vespara's estate; he was sure the butler had already told his Lady. There was no way he was disappointing a noble.
The tanner glanced at his empty bed. The sheets, unkempt and stained with piss from the night before. What was worse, Azul hadn't even been able to take the barmaid with him. "Filthy wench!" the man spat, "After I paid so much." Even as he said it, he knew she'd played him like a guqin. A flash of a smile here, a bit of thigh there—and he'd sworn himself into something ridiculous.
The night was a waste. He crawled to the window and pulled apart the embroidered cloth he used as curtains.
The light rammed through the opening like a stone from a slingshot, and he immediately fell back, shielding his eyes and hissing out in pain. When he looked out the window again, he jumped up in shock.
It had to be near noon already! Quickly, he got up, ignoring the pulsing in his head, then wiped his face down with a newly dampened cloth, ignoring his slight drowsiness, making sure to do a once-over on his armpits as well, before putting on a new robe over his old one.
'Good enough.'
There wasn't enough time to get properly prepared. He'd have to walk up to her and hope she didn't notice his breath and the foul clothing under his robe.
As soon as he opened his door to leave, he heard a small horn, like a miniature trumpet. Then a man, dressed in all green, shouted, "Tanner Azul," came a deep, nasally voice, "You have been summoned by my noble Lady, Vespara."
Azul immediately noticed all the neighbours peeking through their windows and curtains to see what was going on.
He groaned on the inside. For her to directly summon him, there was no way he was getting out of this.
The tanner lowered his head and bowed. The green-dressed messenger barely looked at him as he had his nose up at a slight angle, nodded in appreciation, and told him to get in the carriage.
It was a small, practical thing. The type used for getting goods delivered to people of…higher stock. Not the kind the silver bloods usually rode in.
It was made out of solid wood and had an insignia on the door, right in the middle of it. An open book with a horned white horse, the background a dull, sickly yellow, from age and years of use.
The messenger sat in the front, where the horses were, and Azul sat in the back, looking out the window at the people he passed, briefly going in and out of imaginations where he was Master of some noble house, before coming back to reality and breaking into cold sweats.
A Celestial Mirror Leopard. Those would only be around the city of Lunis during the winter, and even then, he'd have to get someone to catch them. It would be easy work for a cultivator, even a low-level one.
The problem was, what kind of cultivator would spend his time on such small fry? Especially when they could be going into secluded cultivation or doing something that actually mattered, like finding natural treasures.
Azul started biting his lips. A habit he had retained from childhood, making sure to slow down when he tasted the metallic tang of blood that hit his tongue.
There was no way he could call his normal contacts. They were good hunters, but they weren't friends, and if he had a friend who would sacrifice his life to get him a Celestial Mirror Leopard, there was no way he would allow it.
The carriage hit a bump, and Azul flew upwards, hitting his head on the carriage ceiling.
He had ridden in these sorts of things before, always revelling in his perceived superiority before realizing how uncomfortable they were.
Every rock, every hole, every turn, was felt in his bones, like it was the road's job to remind him of who he really was.
His teeth chattered. He wasn't sure if it was from fear or the route they were using.
*********
They were now in Lady Vespara's estate. Azul stood next to the butler in front of those large, ornate doors, as they waited for the lady to finish with whomever she was talking to.
Once the door opened, they were let in…
###
Huo Feng sat in the middle of his room. Legs crossed over each other, surrounded by upturned furniture and hastily stacked tables that he had barricaded his doors with.
Would they work against any cultivator? No. But they made him feel safe, and that was all he cared about at that moment.
The snake's spirit core pulsed violently in his belly. He didn't have that much time. The more he left the core unassimilated, the larger the risk of the core revolting.
Huo Feng had to fully assimilate the spirit core before it tore his spirit conduits apart. He took a deep breath, hands above his knees.
Then began to cycle his qi around his body, with each inhale, he pulled more wisps of qi from the core. It came off in small motes as he fought the core for ownership. It was like trying to pull a cow through the eye of a needle.
Seconds passed. Then minutes.
Hours.
He kept fighting. It was working, Huo Feng could feel the progress. He just had to hold on for longer. His muscles tensed, and he squeezed his eyes tight. The core was becoming more violent.
The pain was becoming unbearable. Huo Feng wanted to curse, but he needed all the mental energy.
So much qi! If he were lucky, Huo Feng might even go up in cultivation. Enough to finally be more powerful than Hung Lee.
He'd started seeing things. In his mind. The snake was fighting him. Then biting him or swallowing him whole.
But Huo Feng knew it was all just hallucinations.
He kept on. The pain of failure would be far more than the pain of success.
Ever so slowly, the snake started to appear less. He wasn't getting swallowed anymore. He was winning.
Nearly three full days passed before he finished. He collapsed backward, gasping, his whole body numb from the unnatural position he had forced it to maintain.
He opened his eyes and let the rays of morning burn them. He enjoyed the feeling. It meant he was alive.
The pain didn't matter when the men who had spirited his mother away were still alive. Flashes of her ashen face and the bruises on her arms from where they had gripped her tormented his mind.
He rose shakily before pushing his qi outward, and it surged in a smooth, arcing ripple. The air around him warped faintly.
First Rung, peak tier of Mortal Refinement.
He smiled. He and Hung Lee were equals now.
Hung Lee had previously surpassed Huo Feng in cultivation, which had forced Huo Feng to do everything he could to speed up his cultivation.
'That bastard, even with so much wealth and resources, couldn't surpass me. Hah! If I'd had the same guidance as him…' Huo Feng laughed to himself, not bothering to finish the thought..
It was now the most important part. What he'd been waiting for. The reason he was so confident about his chances of revenge.
The sword!
He bent down and picked it up. Holding it like it was his firstborn child. He'd made sure to wait until he had fully assimilated the core and the healing pill. It wouldn't do to try and use the treasure and then lose his life instantly.
But Huo Feng had a problem. The more important reason why he hadn't used the sword.
The boy knew nothing about how to use it!
Huo Feng had tried everything from spilling blood on it to sleeping next to it, and he even tried to see if stabbing himself with it would work.
The sword refused him.
It was at the end of one cold night, when he came to the thought of inserting both his qi and his blood into it at the same time.
Immediately, he acted on the thought, circulating his qi from his ethereal bridge into his hand, as he gripped the edge of the blade, making sure it cut him, then pushed the qi into the sword.
Nothing happened.
He almost let go. Then the sword started to get hot, scorching hot. Even for a cultivator like him. Huo Feng tried to release the sword, but it stuck to his hands now.
Like it was a part of him.
He almost screamed for help, but then a bright light shone from the sword, illuminating his terrified visage.
The sword hummed, and wind like blades filled the room all around him, forcing him to cower.
When the wind died down, he looked up.
And out came a scroll, a thin, white paper scroll.
It hovered above the sword with heavy metal chains, swimming over its pages.
The chains swam into words. Characters.
They burned themselves into his eyes.
"Ninefold Battle Servant Codex"