I sat cross-legged in my mountain side alcove, the fire crackling low as twilight deepened.
I focused my will and soon my spirit man peeled away, streaking across the skies like a comet of violet and gold. I arrived ten seconds later, before the Iron fang Elders, who sat in the wind-worn stone council chamber at the heart of the clan grounds.
Their eyes widen at my glowing projection, still not fully used to the glowing specter of me. "I found it. Red-Cap's Forward War Forge—it's built beside a river of blood. There's something… ancient about that place. I can feel it. It pulses with power."
"It's nearly two thousand kilometers from Iron fang, but only four hundred and eighty-two kilometers from my current position. The elders exchange grim glances. Though warriors of will and tradition, they were after all still a small clan. Not even a star-ranked clan—with no access to sky chariots, wind-ships, or sovereign-grade mobility.
Elder Vash, "We've fought our share of border skirmishes… but this? A forward forge implies supply chains, armories, and spawn-pits. A long war."
Elder Mei, "We lack the mobility. Not even the frost hawks would survive a journey that long with our added weight. We'd arrive dead or weeks too late."
Elder Jinn, "Do we send Ash alone? He's strong—but he's not yet a Sovereign. And the blood river... it's cursed. I've seen it in visions. A cursed river of blood, swimming with something far older."
They consider alternative options: sending scouts, reaching out to allied clans a handful, or tapping into old beast vein relay routes, but none were quick or reliable.
The pressure mounted. I stood still in spirit form, watching their hesitation. I spoke again, this time more directly. "If we wait, that forge will spill armies. I'm already nearby. Let me scout it deeper. If I can weaken it, sabotage it—I will. If I need backup, I'll come calling."
The elders fell into thoughtful silence.
Elder Vash spoke sternly, "We cannot afford to lose you, Ash. You are our best hope. But if you're willing… we'll trust your judgment."
Elder Mei: "Just promise us—don't face Red-Cap himself. Not yet."
I prepared to depart, but one of the elders—Elder Jinn, the dream-reader—approached me privily.
Elder Jinn spoke quietly, "The River of Cursed Blood… It's not a place—it's a legend. That river still dreams of what it once was. If Red-Cap is forging an army there, he's waking something beneath the surface."
My spirit flickered, "Then I'll tread lightly… and strike hard."
I faded out of the chamber, with one final preparation thought rooted in my mind. Torren. I needed to check his cultivation level to see if he was ready to compress and refine his qi. I exhaled slowly and reaching out with my spiritual senses—fanning them like ripples over the wind-threaded mountains, I searched for Torrens qi signature. It didn't take long. A familiar heartbeat thudded steady and proud, hidden among iron wood groves to the northeast.
Torren… was at his parents' property. My spirit man form flared to life once more, a radiant silhouette of purple flames. In the blink of an eye, I surged through the skies—like a comet made of war-forged intent. But as I neared, a pulse of resistance rolled out from the estate below. A blue shimmer of qi—a barrier woven from instinct and skill. Torren wasn't surprised by my arrival. In fact, he was waiting. I descended with a smirk. Torren stood in the courtyard below, arms crossed, the moonlight tracing his frame.
His aura had matured, thickened, layered with something just shy of condensed animus. His Storm fang bond stirred within him, visible only as a frost-glow in the air.
Torren was grinning, "You visited the Elders, didn't you? I could sense your ripple from the Hall. Thought you might come looking for me."
I landed silently beside him, my Spirit form flickering before I willed it to solidity. "You've grown sharper. Good. I didn't come to spar, though… I came to check something."
We sat in the garden clearing, surrounded by frost-petaled night orchids.
"Let me see you condense your qi. Fold it, compress it into a higher expression."
Torren nodded, focusing his qi, the desire to save his clan, to grow stronger.
His ropes of qi shimmered within, visible only to my refined spirit perception—ropes of qi began the braiding process, but remained fringed at the edges, unrefined.
I extended a palm—a guiding resonance further sharping his intent. The air thickened. My vestigium qi, laced with lightning and flame, spiraled into the space between us.
It did not enter Torren, but guided, much like water shaping stone. Torren breathed deep, his qi trembling as it recognizing a new spiritual truth. I spoke calmly, "You're getting closer. Just past the veil. Push not with pressure—but with will. Every thread must carry you. Not just your energy. Your intent. Your spirit."
We stood there for a few more minutes. Sweat beaded on Torren's forehead, and even my expression grew serious.
Then—
The Breakthrough. The bottle neck gave way and crumbled as it met with Torrens intense fighting Spirit. There was a sudden tremor. A single thread of Torren's qi snapped taut—and then shifted. Purple-blue ice crawled across Torrens chest as then solidified, as his first strand of animus qi formed.
I smiled faintly, "That's one." The co-cultivation deepened. One rope became five. Then ten. an hour later, Torren opened his eyes, glowing with animus level qi. Dozens of new animus threads pulsed within his chakra pathways. Torren spoke quietly, reverently.
"I can feel it… clearer than thought. Like it's been mine all along, waiting for me to arrive, but ancient at the same time."
I stood, glancing east toward the still-distant River of Blood.
"You've taken the first step. Animus isn't just power—it's legacy. You'll need it for what's coming."
Torren leaned back on his hands, his breath still steadying from the rush of animus level qi. As night rolled in a mist came with it. It clung to the iron wood leaves above us, and the air shimmered faintly with residual energy from the guided cultivation.
Torren spoke, "So…what now? What's your next move?" I turned my gaze east, eyes narrowing with a faint glint of resolve.
I didn't answer immediately. The wind tugged at the edge of my spirit cloak as if pulling me forward. "Red-Cap's building something. A forward war forge—on the banks of a cursed river that bleeds like it remembers death."
Torren frowned, "The River of Blood…that's damn far away. At least two thousand kilometers from Iron Fang. That's—"
I interrupted him calm but firm, "One thousand three hundred miles for Iron Fang. But only three-hundred miles from where my body currently is." Torren stood slowly. His gaze sharpened, "Are we rallying the clans? Iron fang doesn't have sky chariots, but maybe we could—"
I shook my head, "The puny clans in this corner of the Beast Vein Continent barely have animus wielders. Most don't even have a single star-ranked cultivator.
No war caravans. No supply chains. Not even decent flight glyphs.
I'd sending them to die."
I stepped toward Torren, my voice lowering into a tone edged with steel.
"This next mission is critical. It's not about winning a battle—it's about halting an advance.
If Red-Cap builds that forge, he'll spawn an entire division of corrupted constructs, Animus-warped beasts, and spirit-latched horrors."
So I'm going solo. A sabotage run."
Torren blinked, eyes widening slightly, "You're going alone? Into that?"
I nodded. "I'll hit them before they expect anything.
Damage their structure, corrupt their forge mind protocols, and—if I'm lucky—cut down a few of their Wyrm-Binders while I'm at it."
Torren's voice lowered, "And if you're not lucky?"
I grinned faintly, "Then I become a very bright problem for them in their rear lines."
A long silence followed.
Torren's eyes glinted—not with fear, but admiration and worry.
"You really are crazy."
I smiled, "No. Just tired of waiting for someone stronger to do the right thing."
"Tell the rest, Lira, Soren, Kaelin and Taryn. I'll send word once the forge is crashed."
I stepped back, turning toward the rising sun.
The glow caught the trailing ends of my vestigium qi, casting shadows like coiled serpents behind me.
I paused mid-step, then turned back with a grin. "Oh yeah—one more thing." Raising my hand, my spirit form pulsed with a ripple of will.
I opened my spirit bracelet, it shimmered with intricate glyph work even in the spirit realm I could withdraw Items from it. It flickered open. From the void, I drew out a small pile of radiant fruit—each glowing with dense qi and raw life essence.
I let them float in the air with my intent before letting them float gently into Torren's hands. "A dozen ember flare apples to keep your qi blazing. One Spiral Nectar Melon—don't waste it, it'll consolidate your chakras.
And four Verdant Heart Plums—to open your meridians."
Torren stared at the fruits like they were treasures from legend—because they were. Torren blinked, "Ash… these are—this stuff could fund an entire sect for a year." I shrugged. "It's better off with someone who won't waste it. Catch up to my cultivation, yeah?"
Then with a final nod, I vanished into the wind.