Hao found himself dashing forward. He was ripping up the ground, his feet moving faster than he knew. His mind was racing, finding the right response. What will I do with my hands once I’m up there? It was just one of many. In battle, meditation, and things that brought a person to a primordial place, the world was slow.

  Of course, in conflict he found himself thinking of the old stories, the fairy tales his mother told: Most tales were of heroes, a beauty, a giant enemy, even the darker ones had an ending that brought a conclusion that fed the soul. But the tales of demons were hard to chase from the mind. Especially the clever ones. He had yet to know that kind. But his eyes were peeling apart a feral beast with a demon’s smile in front of him.

  Then the stories went away, and the world came at him whole, like he was waking to reality a second time in the morning.

  He didn’t know the man from Drifting Stream. He never would now. Perhaps he was a better man than me. He could make friends with these people, they were even willing to defend him. Help him run away. He was given a swift death, an end to his agony; Gone before the saber was pulled back from the tree.

  Blood sprayed from his severed head onto the people at his side. The wolf reveling as the two rabbits sank further into a bow.

  It was quick, yet seeming slow as the creaking tree was denied its hold on the saber. The wolf ripping the edge from the bark and fiber. And the body of the head-hanging man was still croaking with a splutter when another frightful scene started.

  The male rabbit, the man from the Blue Moons Mountain, raised his head back up, looking to the side. What he saw caused his eyes to open wider in greater terror.

  Hao was screaming—fool—in his head, but his lips were locks, while his legs were moving; Not that screaming duck or lower would help again. He was close to them, but it was not enough. All the wolf had to do was pull back. Hao had to run and stop the flying blade, an impossible task.

  The saber was drawn back with great force, finding a new place to land and rest, leaving its weight and force behind in the skull of the male rabbit. He fell to the ground, a dark red hollow drawn across his face, baring the same gash left on the tree. Sap gathering on the ground in a slow spill.

  As the wolf slid behind the tree, the bodies of the two men struck the ground in tandem. One had more than a hole in his neck, his head nearly severed. The other, his shakes of panic and terror, were stopping. At the very least, he was unconscious. If alive, his face would no longer be the one he was born with.

  And worse for Hao. They will no longer be of any help in the situation.

  The body, with its split open head landing in the view of the woman, her head still lowered. She let out a “No!” a harsh cry, a soft voice cracking like the frozen ocean hit by the sun.

  Hao didn’t have to guess at the man’s condition, his pity now twofold for the man who died in that manner, helpless to help himself, as he once was. Perhaps I still am…

  He was hurdling before he willed; Perhaps a bit of a heroic streak remained, his heart not fully extinguished by the world, or swallowed under the guise of desire and survival. With two of his four allies dead, Hao would at least save the woman; not entirely altruistically. He couldn’t fight the saber-wielding wolf on his own. He knew he would die. It was best to retreat with nothing to gain from it; Just stall him until noon.

  Hao’s feet were silently approaching the woman. Her head was still down. She was frozen, looking at the body with an occasional twitch, a dead twitch.

  The wolf spun around the base of the tree, he was closer to the woman. Only a few loud steps, but Hao was faster. The saber’s edge plummeting from high to split timber.

  Hao arrived there with little time to spare. His palm struck the side of the blade, turning its edge, sending it flying behind her. The blackened steel of the blade slid down her calves until it hit the ground.

  The wolf jumped back a few steps, surprised by Hao’s speed, but that did not change his stance or approach. Only now his smile was gone, and the oversized saber was being lifted with two hands.

  “Now’s not the time. You have to survive first.” Hao whispered. Or tried too, almost biting his tongue to hide his words from the wolf.

  She held a face of fury, hatred, not just when turning to the wolf but when looking at Hao. But her back straightened quickly. She found her fighting posture ready for battle despite the grief and hate in the heart. Despite the loss of her fellow sect member, or someone perhaps closer.

  Hao wanted to push the two on one advantage. Half of their original number was already feeding the trees’ roots. He leapt forward, his speed impressive for his cultivation, but nothing stunning. Without the smoke screen of mystery he created, the two more experienced practitioners could see through him.

  Instead, Hao put on a show of aggression and confidence to play up his abilities. The two—more experienced—could see through that too; He was a child compared to them. But that left a bad taste in their mouths, the younger means more talent in most cases, better background and training.

  “Respect the old and fear the young,” it was known. Almost common sense to cultivators of lower realms like them. And no one had shown their cards yet.

  Such things were below considerations right now. Hao dashing in front of the wolf, throwing a palm out. His hand just stopping short of the Wolf’s face, cracking on the air.

  The Wolf put his smirk back on. He could see through Hao like he was glass. An idea came to him about how to regain control and direct the situation. He would kill them both in just two swings. If he got lucky, just one.

  The woman in white took a place next to Hao just as fast as he stood up to the wolf. A sword in hand, releasing a series of wide swings. Hao had to jump to the side, her attacks, each swift and precise, always aiming for a vital point that could kill or cripple. But just as they were swift, they were telegraphed. Her skills were fine. It was the weapon and the opponent. Many had faced a sword in a life and death situation. The wolf had seen many more than most in Reclamation.

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  Hao knew well if the situation fully slipped from his hand, if the wolf got any sort of footing, they would be lost. With just the opportunity of surprise, the wolf executed two. Any ground given, he would have no chance but to lose.

  Therefore, Hao kept the pressure on the Wolf’s side. He used fast movements and quick but powerful palm strikes to keep the wolf juggling his feet. Hao kept his timing close with the woman’s thin sword, which forced the wolf to block the deadly sword blows with his saber.

  The Wolf took a step back, then two, juggling his feet and his saber, having to release one of his hands from his saber. They took the advantage, forcing him into a corner. He was pushing away sword tips and wincing from the continuous clash of palm to hand contact. The wolf was slowly taking his advantage back, losing less ground with each exchange; pressure on him lessened as the two facing him forced out more attacks.

  The first slip was on Hao. It seemed hours passed in their confrontation, but it had only been minutes. Hao struck the saber’s side again, as it floated towards him. The edge flew up, hitting the sword of the woman out of the way, and she took a step back to recover. But he raised his saber high to swing down on her.

  Hao went in hard again, to cover for her. His inexperience hanging over him in the fight, let alone one with others as allies, was slowing them. It was his job to take responsibility for recovering the position he lost.

  Noon arrived just as the Wolf swung down, light blinking, swallowing the color of the world. Hao cut it close again, striking hard on the shoulder of the wolf, late to save them from any damage done.

  Her hand was struck. To make it worse, it was her main hand, her sword hand. And the Arm Hao struck was not the main hand of the wolf, who held his saber out, proud in the blow he landed.

  Hao could see from the corner of his eye, just barely, as the sun was yet to reach its true peak. Nothing was severed, but the wound was glaring. A trickle of blood that was not shy in its flow, painting a leaf crimson. Her hands swapping swords as she retreated, taking half a dozen quick steps backwards.

  The wolf did the same, stumbling to Hao’s strike, his body was like steel, most of the strikes so far did little. Yet this one left his arm hanging limp in front of him.

  Hao, the only one uninjured, finally found a tangible advantage in the situation. And with the sun’s light growing more direct, shadows becoming small, then vanishing in the heat, he found a few. Many of the other two did not know of. He felt bad for the injury of his ally. Once the fight was over, she would need to retire from the explorations, wrapping the mangled parts with the sleeve cut by the same strike. She couldn’t get words out, only mumbled down on her bitten lip, tightening red cloth on an open wound.

  The wolf let out a laugh, “You really are entertaining me. You should have attacked me when those two were alive, I would have had more fun,” he said.

  He put his saber tip down on the ground, leaning forward. His hanging arm was hidden behind his back. “Should we wait for noon to pass before we resume our game?” His face was a facade.

  A facade easily shattering under the word “No,” Hao was watching the wolf’s face closely.

  The wolf’s face fell pale, then he looked up to the sky and down to Hao. His smile grew more menacing. “Pah! What more do you think you can do? You can barely match me together with your eyes. How will you fight me blind?”

  The woman wore the same expression of agreement, only half shocked, wanting to go forward and retrieve the body of her Junior brother and retreat. But she also wanted to avenge him while his blood was still warm, fueling her fighting spirit.

  Even leaning forward, the wolf was on guard, and so was the woman, Hao wouldn’t be the one to initiate the next bout. If he could stall without a fight, it would be perfect.

  Most of the people inside the Secret Realm were either able to withstand the temperatures now. Not many, to the extent that Hao had. To him, the heat had become an acquaintance, along with the cold. The light of the sun, however, was not something so easily adjusted to, that was a consideration of pure strength, of realm and exposure. Hao sat under the noon sun since summer started, part of his daily cultivation.

  As the sun rose, the guards were lowering.

  Hao stood still while the other two found the largest, thickest patches of shade they could. He was trying to memorize the landscape. They closed their eyes; Even under the canopy, the light was harsh. Just the reflection of a rotting leaf without the slightest bit of shine could make a mortal wince.

  As they were plunged into sightless oppression, two shuffled while one stood completely still, listening. The woman’s nose was dripping water compared to the unsubtle crunching coming from the saber wielder.

  “Why do you kill so eagerly… So readily?” Hao asked, his voice warping by the rapid heating of the air. Yang energy invades his body.

  “Hah? Are you talking to me…” the wolf said, branches and leaves popping as he took a deep breath. “There are plenty of reasons outside the Secret Realm, but inside, there are a dozen more. Mostly, isn’t it the same reason everyone else does it, kid? To prove my strength and get more strength. You get stronger by any means to fight stronger to get more strength and everything that comes with it, life, and status.” He said, returning to silence after he stated what he considered a small fact of life.

  Hao was waiting, no one responding for a while. He was hoping the woman would object or add something or have an entirely different answer. But it seemed the two were here for the same reason.

  The same reason as Hao.

  Perhaps now the white cloaked woman wanted revenge for her junior brother too.

  Hao wasn’t sure if there was ever a good reason to kill, or if it mattered. Children need to eat; if an ocean bird lands at your feet, do you let it fly away when you’re starving? So he accepted it. He was just as selfish, maybe more or less, less or more of other things. The scales did not matter, that was reality, not perception.

  That was the last thing Hao listened to from the people. The wolf liked to bark while he could see, nothing had changed, he began to poke at the woman, who barked back. Hao did not waste time listening or sitting down. He absorbed the Yang World Energy while standing as they verbally attacked each other. A few insults even thrown his way, Hao did not mind, well, he would have liked a little appreciation for saving at least one life.

  Finally, when the sun had hung long in the sky, passing its halfway mark. The world went from blindingly bright to nothing. All bickering between the battle-scarred halted. Their guards fully resting.

  Hao began his little plan, to remove the annoyance so he could get back to cultivating without immediate worry. The world had graced him with noon; The man will die. I have no reason to kill the woman, she only threw a few handfuls of dirt over here.

  All shuffling had stopped, Hao stood and listened, he had to check one last time to be sure. Taking two handfuls of rocks out of his bag, he threw them, where he remembered the two sat.

  In the direction of the woman he heard gasping, a sudden shuffle, feet finding the ground as she stood. The other handful got him a growl, the sound of rocks hitting a sheet of metal, the saber.

  Hao took a stance the moment he heard it, placing his tongue on the roof of his mouth, setting his jaw and biting down. His feet in silence started a dash towards the growl. The situation was more perfect than he imagined, if the man was sitting and his saber set to the side, what more could he ask for?

  Hao’s eyes were scrunching down, only able to see the bright crimson until he entered the shadow of the tree. Crimson still filled his eyes, but he could see a silhouette when he released some of the strain on his eyelids.

  A clumsy, tall shadow entered the crimson field. A blob just detailed enough to see its slow reach down. The rocks must have brought up his guard. He was waiting for a chance to differentiate the head from the rest of the shadow.

  The man’s body was well trained, and at a higher stage of Reclamation than Hao. It would be hard to deal fatal damage with just a palm. But he was not skilled enough to make a head-on confrontation with a weapon. Any sort of clumsy or fair exchange would cost him a life. So he needs a place that would do sufficient with a blunt strike.

  Hao reached a near-perfect silence in his dashing, going around the side of the wolf. Where he had previously struck his arm. He was facing them as he backed away, so it was the same side the whole time.

  The wolf heard a single leaf crunch, turning his head, but it was too late, turning his head made the situation worse for the wolf.

  Hao was behind him, a wide stance, feet placement perfect, he had done it hundreds of times. His jaw clenched tighter, his palm oing up and back, aiming his strike just below where the shadow twisted. Just for the base of the head, where it rested on the neck.

  Swoom! The palm was ripping through the air, the sound of a whip, the neck making the final crack.

  The wolf took a gasp, a screeching “Glahp!” coming from his lungs.

  A pop and crack, along with the sound of a baby’s rattle, came when the palm made its connection to its target. Every sound you wouldn’t want to hear from your own body rang from the wolf. His head lifted from his spine. His brain shaking madly, the sound of teeth crushing each other. And like a taut rope, the skin of his neck flung his back down.

  The body fell forward, crashing on the ground, but Hao was neither confident nor taking a risk. He may just be knocked out, unlikely from the sound alone. Still not taking the chance on it, he stepped over the sound of the falling body, finding the feet of the large man. Hao found his spear in the spirit holding bag, taking this chance to deal a killing blow. He drove the spear down.

  The sensation of flesh parting confirming his deed. It was an unforgettable, unmistakable feeling.

  His day was just starting, noon was still high, and there was the woman to deal with.