Chương 39: More Potential
A younger disciple appears at the entrance of his cave. The disciple's stature is noticeably smaller. There is an unmistakable nervousness about him, his eyes unable to maintain a steady gaze, flickering from side to side.
"Brother," the young disciple pleads, standing at the entrance of Li Wei's cave, his voice quivering with each word. "I'm in dire need of bone pills. Please, I have nothing to give in return, but my situation is desperate."
He pauses, swallowing hard. "I swear, if you help me now, I'll repay you tenfold in the future. I'm good for it, I swear." His eyes dart around, reflecting fear and hope, seeking any sign of compassion from Li Wei.
Li Wei watches, his face unchanging.
"Fuck off." His voice cuts through the air, ending any further discussion. Familiar with such acts, he knows too well the patterns of feigned helplessness and urgent pleas. They are nothing but false promises.
Li Wei's senses heighten with the dismissal. "This desperate fool might try something," he thinks. Past experiences have shown him that desperation can drive men to unforeseen actions.
The young disciple's posture shifts from slouched to erect, muscles coiling like a spring. His eyes, previously downcast and filled with feigned despair, now blaze with intensity, revealing his true intent. Each step he takes towards Li Wei is measured, betraying a newfound sense of purpose. The plea for help, now clearly a stratagem, was meant to catch Li Wei off guard.
He scans the environment rapidly, his gaze flickering over Li Wei's stance, searching for weakness. With a burst of energy, he lunges. A bone sword, hidden within the depths of his robe, emerges with a swift, fluid motion. Its pale and sharp blade catches the sparse light, creating a fleeting glimmer. As he advances, the sword arcs through the air, aiming precisely at Li Wei.
Li Wei stands in the cave, his posture alert yet relaxed. The younger disciple's aggression triggers a response in him. He takes a deliberate step back, creating space between them. This distance is strategic; his bone shot technique is most effective from afar, unlike the close-range necessity of the bone sword wielded by the younger disciple. In this widened gap, Li Wei holds a significant advantage.
His focus sharpens, and he channels his Qi with precision. It flows towards the index finger of his right hand, a pathway well-trodden by disciplined practice. The air around his fingertip vibrates subtly with the concentration of energy.
Li Wei's index finger twitches once, a barely noticeable movement, yet it releases the first bone projectile. The compact and lethal shard slices through the air.
"Whshsh."
This distance attack aligns with Li Wei's tactical advantage, contrasting the close combat limitation of the young disciple's bone sword.
The slender piece of bone projectile flies straight towards the young disciple's head. Li Wei watches, his demeanour calm and detached, as it finds its mark precisely.
Immediately following, he twitches his finger again, quickly releasing a second bone projectile.
"Whshsh".
This shard follows a similar path, aimed with deadly accuracy. The impact is precise and devastating, the shard striking with a jarring force, echoing within the cave's confines.
"Two shots, just to be certain," he thinks. "The first might suffice, but risks are unnecessary."
The first shard's impact is gruesome. Blood sprays, coating the cave walls. The disciple's body jerks in a final, uncontrolled spasm as life swiftly leaves him.
The second shard, targeting the torso, hits with a muffled impact. It buries into the chest, blood oozing from the wound, darkening the disciple's clothing and forming a growing pool on the cave floor. The second strike ensures the demise, leaving no chance for survival.
"hhhssskk..." a death rattle that reverberates in the cave. It's a sound that signifies the end, the final surrender of life. A sound that's more like a sharp, raspy inhale. His body slumps forward, then collapses to the ground with a heavy thud, the finality of his death unmistakable.
The young disciple lies still, his body now just an empty vessel. The bone sword falls from his lifeless hands, clattering against the stone floor. Li Wei stands over him, his expression still impassive, his breathing steady. Once a place of quiet cultivation, the cave now bears witness to the killing.
Li Wei stands in the aftermath, reflecting on the effectiveness of his technique. The young disciple's body is a testament to the potency of his cultivation, a reminder that his skills have come far.
"It was either him or me," he reflects. "And the dumb fuck lost."
Survival often means being the quicker, the smarter, the more ruthless.
Once bright with eagerness, the young disciple's eyes now hold no spark. Li Wei looks away from the disciple's lifeless form, his attention now on the fallen weapon.
"What a fucking trash," he thinks to himself, a sneer forming in his mind. "Died like a pig." He looks down at the body, a sense of superiority washing over him. "No comparison between me and these lower levels." His eyes briefly assess the disciple, trying to gauge his strength. "Whatever, who gives a shit. He was probably 3rd or 4th level. Shouldn't have fucked with me."
"This won't be the last time I need to defend myself," he muses internally, his resolve hardening. The necessity of continuous cultivation and strengthening becomes clearer than ever. "I must grow stronger," he affirms to himself.
"This is the cost of rising prominence," he reflects internally. "With wealth comes danger, from those envious or desperate."
Li Wei stands over the lifeless form of the disciple, his breath steady in the stillness of the cave. The fallen disciple, a silent figure sprawled on the ground, presents Li Wei with a predicament entangled with opportunity.
His gaze lingers on the disciple's body, the contours of the bones visible beneath the skin. A realisation dawns on him, a thought that creeps into his consciousness with both a sense of pragmatism and foresight.
"A whole skeleton of a Qi cultivator," he muses silently, the idea forming clearly in his mind. "Such a thing... It's a resource, valuable beyond the usual spoils of a defeated enemy."
"I've been using mortal bones till now. Imagine what I can do with a skeleton of a disciple at the Qi cultivation level."
"If buried, the earth itself will cleanse the bones. Earthworms, insects... they'll do what needs to be done."
The prospect of turning the body into bone essence later adds a layer of excitement. "In time, these bones could be more valuable than the most potent of herbs," Li Wei considers, weighing the long-term benefits. "A resource for future cultivation, perhaps when I reach a higher level of Qi cultivation."
With this thought, Li Wei's decision solidifies. "I'll bury him here, in the cave. Let nature take its course."
After a while, he pauses, straightening up to survey the area. His eyes scan the cave's interior, seeking the right spot. He moves slowly, stepping carefully over the uneven cave floor. His gaze settles on a section of the cave where the earth looks untouched, contrasting the well-trodden area he walks over.
He reaches inside a sack, slowly pulling out a dagger. Unadorned and purely functional. He looks down at the earth beneath his feet, considering his next action with a deliberate focus.
He bends down, the dagger in his hand poised above the ground. With meticulous care, he starts to cut into the earth. Each slice of the blade is precise and methodical. The ground, compact and resistant, gives way gradually under the persistent incision. He works steadily, his movements unhurried, ensuring the soil loosens enough to be moved.
Sweat beads on his forehead are a testament to his effort. The muscles in his arms tense and relax with each motion, adapted to the repetitive task. He continues, undistracted, the sound of the blade parting the earth a consistent rhythm in the otherwise silent cave.
This spot, secluded and undisturbed, seems ideal. He kneels down, placing the dagger beside him. His hands, now free, start to work the soil. He digs with a purpose, removing the loosened earth handful by handful. The process is slow, and the progress is measured but steady.
As he digs, his mind remains focused on the task at hand. The earth under his fingers feels cool and damp, the texture varying as he delves deeper. Small stones and roots occasionally impede his progress, but he removes them with determination.
The hole gradually deepens, taking shape as a final resting place for the disciple. Li Wei's movements are unhurried, each action deliberate. While physically demanding, this task also serves as a moment of reflection, a rare pause in a life of constant vigilance and cultivation.
The cave's air is still disturbed by the occasional sound of the earth being shifted.
Finally, the hole reaches an adequate depth. Li Wei stops, looking at the space he has created. It's a simple, unadorned grave, yet it serves its purpose. The disciple will find his final peace in this quiet corner of the cave, away from his usual paths.
Li Wei steps towards the body, its form still bleeding, limbs hanging limp. He bends down, his hands reaching for the lifeless form with a calculated intent. Grasping the disciple's shoulders, he lifts the body. The weight of it is substantial, yet Li Wei manages with a steady strength.
He carries the body to the hole he has dug, each step measured and deliberate. Upon reaching the grave, he carefully lowers the disciple into it. The body descends into the earth, returning to the soil from which it came.
With a practised hand, Li Wei begins arranging the limbs. He moves the arms first, straightening them alongside the body. Then, he adjusts the legs, aligning them in a natural position. His touch is devoid of sentiment, his actions resembling those of a craftsman working with inanimate materials rather than a fallen comrade.
The disciple's head tilts slightly as Li Wei positions it, the eyes, once animated with life, now dull and unseeing. Li Wei works in silence.
Li Wei returns to the mound of loose soil beside the grave. He begins covering the body, shovelling the earth with his hands. Each handful of dirt he casts into the hole lands with a soft thud, gradually obscuring the disciple's form from view.
The soil, cool and slightly damp, clings to his fingers as he works.
"I hope this won't stink up the cave," he thinks. It's a practical concern rooted in living in such a confined space. The thought of a decaying body altering the environment of his sanctuary is not appealing, yet it's a risk that comes with the territory.
The grave slowly becomes level with the cave floor, the last visible traces of the disciple disappearing under the earth. Li Wei pats down the soil, ensuring it's compact and unlikely to be disturbed. With the task complete, he steps back, assessing his work. The area looks almost as before, the grave blending seamlessly with the surrounding earth.
"The flesh will return to the earth, leaving behind the essence-laden bones."
"In time, I'll unearth him again. But for now, this is where he belongs."
He brushes the dirt from his hands, his mind already shifting to the next task, the next challenge. In this harsh world, moments of reflection are brief, and survival demands constant readiness.
He contemplates the nature of his path, which demands resourcefulness and often a cold pragmatism. " Hopefully, in death, the dumb fuck will have more potential."
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