Chen flashed a sheepish grin, seeming to wilt before Alex’s undeniable points.
Alex chuckled. “Well, they are pretty. If nothing else, I can hang them over my fireplace one day. Tell you what, I’ll free up the room they’re taking up in your second hand bin for a silver apiece.”
The merchant’s eyes widened with mock outrage. “Surely you jest!”
“I never jest, and don’t call me Shirley.” Alex grinned at the man’s expression. “Never mind, that didn’t translate well.”
Chen gave a theatrical sigh. “Seeing as I like you, and count you a valued customer, I might be willing to let these priceless artifacts, brimming with history and master craftsmanship, go for a mere three silver a piece.”
Alex smirked. “Three for the set.”
“Four.”
“Done. And you’re letting me test them before I leave. One strike on the mannequin I already broke. If the blade loses its teeth? Deal’s off. If not? You’ve made a sale.”
The merchant winced, but agreed with a nod, and Alex spent a few moments just delighting in the feel of his newest purchase, the pair of weapons having just the balance he recalled preferring amongst all of his former mentor Panheu’s sparring dao. And for all that these shark-toothed blades were many times heavier than those steel swords had been, he was now many times stronger than he had been before breaking through to Bronze, leaving him with blades that consequently felt perfectly weighted and balanced in his hands.
First, Alex went over Golden Realms forms, adjusting to the added mass and his own remarkable change in strength since the last time he had used a dao before flowing effortlessly through White Crane then Silver Swan forms, before at last combining them all into one deadly, beautiful whole.
Even holding the exotic blades he was just now getting used to, Alex found harnessing the flow of Qi around them to be absolutely effortless. There was a reason, after all, why so many cultivators preferred shorter weapons made of a single element, like most jian or dao, as opposed to longer polearms made of both wood and metal. He was pretty sure power attacks or Qi strikes that tapped into his reserves would be a bit more efficient when used with swords, as opposed to spears or ji. Nonetheless, the fangtian ji would always be his first choice, besides the fists and feet that were so damned effective when covered in Dark Qi.
Still, the flashes of insight he had been getting when practicing his forms, the odd sense that he was on the edge of some transcendent insight, had reawakened his passion to master all the forms his mentors had taught him as best he could. With fists, feet, fangtian ji, and the dao as well.
And he couldn’t deny that he needed decent blades to practice forms with, whether or not he ever used them in combat. But just in case he did end up using them in combat one day...
The courtyard rang with the sound of lamellar crashing to the ground, the entire suit of armor hooked by a toothy blade that managed to rip a massive rent into multiple lamellae, popping them free of the iron wires securing the tiles in place. Though the weapon did catch, like teeth latching onto prey, as opposed to slicing cleanly through.
Alex frowned. It only took a moment to tear his blade free, sending the entire suit flying through the air, only to crash feet away from the yelping merchant. It wasn’t that Alex need fear his weapon becoming permanently wedged with his strength, and yanking a wounded opponent off balance might be an asset, but it was never a good idea to use tools with a tendency to get stuck in one’s foe.
Still, much to his satisfaction, the teeth had held perfectly.
Just as he had thought they would, his Qi Perception and Artifice skills making it clear he was now the proud owner of a pair of magical treasures he had purchased for a song.
Even if they were no more than a pair of nearly-indestructible dao, that itself was a priceless asset. And the teeth portion, at least, had bitten through the armor like butter. Any swipe at neck or wrist, and appendages would be sent flying.
Alex grinned at the merchant, conveying so much with that smile as he looped the pair of sheaths to his armor’s weapon belt, glad to find the thick rawhide strap was more than up to the task.
The smile of a merchant’s son getting the best of a sharp trader.
“A pleasure doing business with you,” he said.
The merchant flashed a pained grimace, still flinching from the armor that had crashed in a shower of bronze tiles by his feet. “Don’t mention it.”
5
By the time Alex made his way to Sun’s Caravan, his pleased grin of satisfaction had transformed to an anxious grimace.
It seemed he had spent too much time scouting and securing decent weaponry, and not enough time actually securing a position within the massive caravan train getting ready to leave in less than an hour’s time.
At more than twenty wagons, most of them massive affairs supported by leaf spring axles and impressive wheels of exotic hardwood, steel, and what seemed a surprisingly sophisticated composite of rubber and several alchemical reagents he was sure he could deduce the construction of, should someone be willing to let him cut up and eat a piece of their no doubt absurdly expensive wheel.
Unlikely at best. Still, they were more than up to pulling the massive multi-ton wagons being steered into position by serious-eyed coachmen leading their spirit beast hybrids of docile temperament and enormous size, looking very much like the oxen-sized steeds that had pulled both Hao Kong and Jidihu’s oversized carriages, once upon a time. Only bigger.
It was an awe-inspiring sight, and Alex could only wonder how many tens of thousands of people these tons of produce and grain would feed, noting as well the stoic-looking men and women who would be leading what seemed entire herds of sheep, cattle, and swine to Baidushi. For a moment it seemed eerie, how calm the animals were amidst all that bustle, but Alex could only guess, considering the hundreds if not thousands of miles livestock would be expected to traverse before arriving at their destination, that the creatures had been bred for docility. Perhaps above all else.
And setting up formation around it all were hard-eyed professional men and women, including a handful of Ruidians with flashing jewels of ruby or sapphire also taking up position, the latter favoring light shirts of mail, brilliant white gambesons, no doubt to reflect the light, and padded helms of thinnest steel.
Alex had no doubt the armor was both considerably more comfortable and lighter than the warring states style lamellar armor and open face helms Alex and almost all the native guards were wearing. On the other hand, though infinitely better than no armor at all, easily deflecting sword slashes that would kill an unarmored combatant, the cleaving swing of a polearm or a powerful enough spear thrust would crack bone and perhaps inflict crippling injuries in someone armored with no more than a thin, if light helmet, or mail armor designed for comfort as much as protection. Blows that would do no more than bruise wearers of the ubiquitous soldier’s armor used by so many warriors and mercenaries, perhaps kept as part of their personal kit when they eventually left service to the nation as a whole. Assuming, of course, the attacker hadn’t ascended to Bronze, and used no Qi techniques.
Alex sighed, sensing as well that almost half the guards radiated the strength of basic cultivators who had opened at least one or two of their meridian channels, if not more, automatically putting them in the top 5% of all individuals, the other half radiating the looks and physiques of competent mortals who had fought all their lives for every scrap of recognition and advancement they could get.
Some noobish-looking latecomer holding a fangtian ji any warrior could tell would be laughably heavy in the arms of any Ruidian with its thick, reinforced head and shaft of densest hardwood, even if one didn’t know it was a ridiculously heavy type of spirit wood, would no doubt be poorly thought of by these seasoned men. So the smirks and cold stares Alex received from the assembling guards as he approached were about what Alex had expected. As were the surly glances of what appeared to be a number of mercenaries, who, from what Alex
overheard in passing, were still sore they had been denied the right to join the wagon.
Men who had fought hard for a position with the most secure caravan in Yizhen and still lost.
Though Alex heard no worse than a couple disparaging mutters about Ruidian fools, he still got plenty of hard glares when he dared approach the powerfully-built man wearing armor of high-quality steel who obviously held some position of authority over this caravan. Six and a half feet tall if he was an inch, with a gladius at his hip and a far lighter fangtian ji by his side than Alex’s own, he radiated the strength of a cultivator, at least a Bronze. Alex could tell that right off, though he was wise enough not to stare so boldly at the man as to ascertain just how strong the he truly was.
“Can I help you, boy?” asked the man, glaring up from the thick, leather-bound ledger he was peering over from the stool he was sitting on, making a mark before giving one anxious-looking prospective guard a quick nod, earning a beaming smile and a salute before the youth, kitted in soldier’s bronze, hurried to his supposed station with bladed staff in hand.
Alex swallowed, feeling his cheeks flush with sudden awkward heat. “Um... I,” he coughed, clearing his throat. “I wanted to see about hiring on as a guard. For the trip to Baidushi,” he added, completely unnecessarily.
The giant of a man smirked, giving Alex a thoughtful once-over. “I see before me a Ruidian boy with a soldier’s armor, two ridiculous-looking dao paired as if they were butterfly fencing swords, and a fangtian ji even I would feel foolish using. If you would be so kind as to lift up the rim of your helmet? As I thought. No gem.”
He gave a slow shake of his head. “Sorry, boy. I have no room for green recruits who’ve never tested themselves in battle, foolish enough to think slow and heavy will ever be a match for quick and deadly.”
Alex swallowed, suddenly feeling dozens of pairs of eyes upon him, including the three cultivators he had seen in the shop, not that long ago, now kitted in padded gambesons and mail armor with light steel skull caps upon their heads. The light, flexible armor was no doubt ideally suited for most body cultivators relying on quick deadly naginatas or the like.
“Heavens grace, the Ruidian we saw actually bought that ridiculous thing!” exclaimed Fangsu, her pretty brown eyes locking upon Alex with a strange sort of fascination. “And look at those crazy dao at his waist! How much do you think that merchant ripped him off for, Master?”
Master Yan shrugged, also wearing a mail hauberk and scale-covered gloves, his squat, powerful frame otherwise unencumbered, save for a linen tunic and steel skull cap, with a wicked-looking bladed staff resting casually against his shoulder that Alex hadn’t seen before. “No idea. I’m surprised the kid had that much wealth to burn.”
Tung, the boy, nodded sagely. “How does that expression go? A fool and his money can’t stand each other’s company?”
“I think it’s ‘will soon be parted,’” said Fangsu.
Tung smiled. “That’s it.”
The man who seemed to be in charge of the hiring flashed a humorless smile. “I do believe judgement has been passed. You can always try Tang’s caravan. They’ll take anyone. Assuming you survive the trip, which is no certain thing. If you’re really smart, you’ll head back to wherever home is and maybe live a bit longer. Soldiers who play fools are rarely soldiers for very long.”
Alex swallowed, thoughts racing as he forced a good-natured chuckle. “I’ll tell you what,” he said, savvy enough not to lose sight of what really mattered. “You let me join your caravan, and you can pay me exactly what you think I’m worth by the time the trip is done, and not a copper more.”
He smiled at the man’s surprised blink. “Fool I may seem, but I’m savvy enough to know the importance of the bottom line. And save for allowing me an evening portion of whatever massive stew pot will be serving us rations, I won’t cost you a thing. And should trouble hit? Nothing like another target to draw your enemy’s focus and split his forces. If I get killed, I cost you nothing. And I guess you’re up some half-decent armor, whatever you might think of my weaponry. If I actually pull my weight, you pay me no more than you think I’m worth by trip’s end. If nothing happens by trip’s end and I’m just a smiling fool carrying too big a weapon? You can let me go with a wave, and I’ll be happy to have been able to travel to the city with company. No hard feelings.”
The giant of a man peered hard at Alex for a few long seconds before cracking half a smile and giving the tiniest nod of his head. “You are a curious one, boy, I’ll give you that. The offer’s more than fair for me, and it makes me think you might not be half the fool you seem. Alright, you can join us. But you’re putting that monster of a weapon away in the supplies wagon and carrying a proper spear. Is that understood?”
Alex grinned. “As long as no one minds me practicing with it in the evening after my duty’s done, I’m more than happy with that arrangement, sir.”
“Good. And it’s Captain Dui Zhang to you.”
Alex repeated the closed fist salute he had seen the other young hire use. “Understood, Captain Dui Zhang!”
The man gave a bemused nod. “Alright.” He eyed the trio of cultivators favoring Alex with bemused smiles and wide-eyed stares of disbelief. “That lot can show you where to store your weapons, same place their own sparring gear is being kept.”
The Bronze-ranked cultivator nodded at the man as if they were near-equals. “Will do, Captain.”
“Good. Dismissed.” Dui Zhang made a quick note in his ledger, stood up, scowled at the assembled men milling around. “Get in position, men! We’re leaving now!”
Yan chuckled as he led Alex to a rear wagon. “What an interesting lad you are,” he said, giving Alex a bemused clap on the shoulder.
“I can’t believe he actually got hired on!” the girl walking behind her mentor whispered loud enough for neighboring workers to hear and smirk in Alex’s direction.
“Maybe he’s not a complete idiot,” the boy opined. “Maybe he’s just good at getting what he wants. Ridiculous weaponry? Sure. Joining a caravan with an offer too good to pass up? Why not?”
“Yeah, but he’s not even getting paid! How’s he not playing the fool?”
“I’m just saying he’s going where he wants to go and getting what he wants to get. Maybe he’s playing a game only he knows the rules to, like that fox god or something? He is a Ruidian, after all.”
The girl frowned thoughtfully. “Maybe. But I still think he’s an idiot.”
“Oh, I’m sure he is,” said the boy. “But if he can actually fight, I’ll call him a clever idiot.”
“Is there such a thing?”
“Who knows?”
Alex did his best to ignore the gossiping youths and the heat he felt coming over his cheeks, quickly storing his fangtian ji and the pair of dao where the grinning cultivator pointed, graceful enough not to add to his student’s comments. But the man’s smile made his thoughts clear enough. He showed Alex a seven-foot-long spear with a broad leaf-shaped blade, and a shorter weapon about five feet in length with a sturdy blade a full foot long, shaped much like a gladius. “Alright, lad, tell me true, and no shame to it. Can you actually use a spear or bladed staff?”
Alex caught the man’s gaze, forcing a smile to his features before the man could blanch or step back. “I can use whichever suits our party best,” he said as innocuously as he could.
There was a reason why he had been perfectly happy negotiating for zero pay. He had no need to show off his skills, and plenty of reason to keep his own cards very close. He still had over a dozen fat silver and a score of copper as well, to say nothing of the double handful of spirit beast cores wrapped about his neck in a rawhide choker that looked more like an exotic piece of neck armor than anything else. Beast cores that, besides potentially giving him a life-saving power boost when he was dying of mortal injury or needed to quickly recover his Qi, were also worth a fortune in platinum.
And if he did manage to make his way
to Baidushi and followed through on his dream of finding a cultivation sect that would actually accept him, those cores might well be the keys to earning access to the tomes he was eager to study, ignorant of so much of what it meant to be a cultivator, knowing almost nothing, save how to build the absolute strongest foundation possible. And he knew all too well that he needed a hell of a lot more references than his one divine tome before he dared make any more assumptions about how best to transcend to pristine Silver.
If only he had been able to keep ahold of even one of those tomes of Silver or Gold.
He nodded his thanks when the cultivator handed him the spear, realizing he had nothing to regret. He was alive, he had gained incredible strength and insight in a very short period of time, and, via the Gold and Silver Soul Stones he had claimed, their potency safely locked away inside him, he knew he was already on the cusp of transcendence.
He just didn’t want to ascend quite yet, however, with his half-formed ideas about synergizing his three martial forms into an unexpected whole, and how it somehow related to the very act of cultivation and ascension, in ways that had absolutely nothing to do with twisting together cords of Qi. Half-understood insights that tantalized him.
He was on the cusp of a breakthrough. He knew it. Only when he had achieved it would he dare ascend to Bronze Rank 4, maximizing the potential of his growth.
He blinked when the cultivator snapped his fingers in Alex’s face. “You’d best have better focus when we’re out on the road or you’re pulling night duty, Alex,” Yan said with a frown.
Alex grimaced in apology. “Sorry, my mind was wandering there for a minute.”
Master Yan tilted his head. “Why are you really joining this caravan?”
Alex grinned, looking at Yan and his students behind him, so entertained by his very presence. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
Silver Fox & The Western Hero: Warrior Redeemed: A LitRPG/Wuxian Novel - Book 5 Page 9
