Chapter 1: Chapter 1: The Cultivator Returns

A gust carried the scent of fresh blood through the air. Despite the pungent scent, Yaihan marched forward. The sun was setting, casting an orange glow across the jagged land. The cultivator paid no mind to the strong aroma; instead, his eyes focused on the jagged cliff that separated the beach from the mainland. He stepped over the jagged stones that dotted the sands of the beach and looked up at the steep wall of stone before him.

Another gust rushed by, this time carrying with it the scent of seawater. The wind rustled the short black hair that he kept in a tidy ponytail, moving his bangs out of place so they obscure his eyes. With a single flick of his head, he set the loose strands back in place. Yaihan then spread his legs. He took in a deep breath. Then closed his eyes. 

He widened his stance. Then bent his knees. Yaihan propelled himself in the air with a single jump, creating a small crater in the sand as his body soared to the height of the cliff side. He landed on solid ground, gracefully placing one foot on the dusty surface. The metallic stench of blood still lingered, only intensifying at the new altitude. 

Yaihan walked forward, dusting off the sand that got on his already-tattered robes. Another gust blew past him, setting his loose hair astray again. With a tile of his neck the long strands that covered his face drifted to the side, giving him a clear view of what was ahead.

Three silhouettes drew closer. One was significantly smaller than the other two; it took the shape of a limping man. Two more shadows followed behind, towering over the lone individual that staggered across the rocky terrain. Their form was almost human-like, but far more warped. The two taller shadows swayed with an enthusiastic demeanor, showing their enlarged arms and pointed fingers with each step. 

Yaihan moved faster, soon coming close enough to the hobbling man to see him fully. He wore light armor; chain mail covered his upper body, and a dull bronze helmet protected his head. He turned around to his pursuers, looking more terrified before stumbling over himself and falling to the ground. Yaihan ran to the fallen man’s aid, rolling him onto his back and cradling him in his arms.

“Don’t bother helping me...” the soldier said in a shaky voice. Now in his hands, Yaihan examined the soldier’s injuries. The chain mail was stained red at the hip, his blood leaking onto the cultivator’s hands. Yaihan looked into the soldier’s reddened eyes. Despite his pain, the wounded man fought to stay upright and point behind Yaihan. “They’re going to get both of us!”

A pair of shadows cast over the two men. Their warped proportions caught Yaihan’s attention while making the injured man tremble in fear as he tried to get back on his feet. The cultivator turned his head around. 

Two demons towered over the pair of men. Their skin was a crimson red, making the dark purple veins that coursed over their muscular builds even more apparent. Both were nearly naked save for the armored belts that covered their hips and the tattered cloth that draped over their waist. Each one carried a long weapon, hidden by their massive bodies as they dragged them across the ground.

Both stared down at the men, cackling at Yaihan and the wounded soldier at his side. As they laughed, they revealed a set of jagged and sharp teeth along with a narrow and pointed tongue. 

Their eyes were pitch black, just as dark as the wild hair they had fastened into a messy ponytail behind their heads. One pointed at Yaihan, showing off the long, knife-like nails at the end of his fingers. “Look at this fool!” he mumbled in a guttural voice. “Instead of fleeing, he stays to comfort a dying man!”

The other demon smiled as he put one boney hand over his gut. “You’d think he wouldn’t know anything about the Oni-Zhen!” He let out an evil laugh as he dropped his weapon to the ground. Yaihan eyed the fallen sword that looked to be made of scrap. Attached to a lazily shaped hunk of wood was a long piece of contorted metal roughly the size of a person. 

“You’d be right,” Yaihan said in a calm voice. “I’ve never heard of the… Oni-Zhen.” He lowered the wounded shoulder on his back and turned around to face the pair of demons behind him. “Perhaps you could enlighten me.”

“This fool thinks he’s funny!” the first demon barked. “I can appreciate humor in the face of certain death!” He stepped forward, bending his neck so his chin pressed against his neck so he could peer down at Yaihan. Several feet separated their height. The top of Yaihan’s head came up to just beneath the Oni-Zhen’s chest. Despite the difference in size, the cultivator maintained a steady stance. 

“It’s not often you’ll see a regular human standing in front of an Oni marauder!” the second demon said. “They usually lack the courage to face us head on!”

“Or perhaps this one is just stupid,” the first demon said. His smiling expression turned into one of annoyance. “I’ve already grown bored with your jokes. Why do you not run like the others? Are you looking to become one of us?”

“No,” Yaihan said sternly, maintaining eye contact with the demon. “I’m here to help a man in need,” he replied while pointing at the wounded soldier. He sat up as best as he could, as his eyes darted between Yaihan and the demons. 

“He must be setting up some kind of trap!” the second demon cried. “There must be Xiwaoan forces hidden somewhere, ready to ambush us!”

Yaihan looked around. “Where could an army possibly hide? There’s nothing here but dirt and a steep cliff. You think a Xiwaoan soldier could scale the cliff in time to assist me? Let alone with weapons and armor.”

“Just kill him,” the second demon commanded. He bent over and picked his weapon off the ground with one hand. “I’ve grown tired of this man’s feigned stupidity. Whatever he has planned, make sure he doesn’t get a chance to see it through.”

“You’re right,” the demon towering over Yaihan said with a grunt. He held his stone club in one hand and bounced it against his other palm. “Pillaging has worked up my appetite and I could go for a snack!” The Oni stuck out his long, forked tongue and licked his lips. 

“Try not to smash them too hard this time. I don’t like my meat to be too tender,” the second demon chuckled.

The first demon held the handle of his weapon with both hands. He hoisted the blunt rock high above his head and peered down at the cultivator. Yaihan took a martial stance; he spread his legs apart and bent his knees slightly. His hands formed a pair of fists while his eyes focused on the granite weapon as its jagged edges glistened in the sun. 

“Thank you for making it easy for us!” the demon said to Yaihan with a smile. He held his weapon straight above his head. “A human with the tiniest bit of sense would have fled by now!”

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Yaihan remained silent. 

The Oni followed through with his swing. He brought the club down in a single motion, sending the edge crashing towards Yaihan. Just before the weapon stuck, Yaihan punched upward, intercepting the stone bludgeon with his fist. Countless bits of granites scattered across the ground while others flew into the Oni’s face at a fierce velocity. The first demon staggered back, dropping what little remained of his club on the ground as his hands covered his eyes.

“Gah! I-I can’t see!” As his fingers covered his face, drips of black blood trailed down his face. Embedded throughout the exposed parts of his body were bits of gray granite. 

“H-How...?” the other demon said in shock as he watched his partner collapse to knees and groan in agony. He pulled his hands away from his eyes and to prop himself over the ground. He then turned to Yaihan; his smug demeanor having shifted to one of terror. “You can’t be human!”

“But I am,” the cultivator replied calmly. “Just as much as this man behind me.”

The still-standing demon clenched his fists and angled his weapon to place it between himself and Yaihan. “You must be some secret weapon that the Xiwaoan army has... summoned! Or made a pact with! You’re a different breed of demon!”

“I’m not employed by the Xiwaoan army. I work for no one.” Yaihan stepped forward, walking past the sobbing Oni to face the other demon. The other took a few steps back, shaking his sword with his trembling hand. 

“Stay back!” he said. “I-I’ve killed hundreds of humans! You think I’m scared of some... spell that you cast? It was just a trick… a gimmick!” The Oni feigned a chuckle and regained his composure. He stood upright and stopped retreating. He brought his sword back, prepping for a horizontal slash at Yaihan’s head. “Yeah. That’s all that was. A trick! Some desperate spell you cast. We were promised that no mere human could best us. And I’ll prove it! Right now!”

The Oni started to swing, but before the sword could come close to Yaihan, the cultivator struck the demon in the knee with a hook from his right hand. There was a thunderous crack upon impact, followed by the demon toppling to the side. He released his weapon as both hands pressed against what remained of his knee.

“Gah!” the demon moaned, sniffling with tears coming from his eyes. “W-What did you do?” He looked down and slowly moved his hands that were soaked in his own black blood. Shattered white bone jutted out of his red flesh, cutting through muscle and skin. “What spell grants you that strength?”

“I don’t know magic,” Yaihan answered as he stood over the sobbing’s demon's head. The Oni looked away from his injury and then at the stoic cultivator standing over him. 

“T-Then how? Even Oni-Zhen aren’t capable of such power!”

“A decade of training,” Yaihan replied as he cracked his knuckle. 

“Lies! If you’re going to kill me, at least answer my question truthfully!”

“I did. I’ve been nothing but honest with you. And now that I’ve fulfilled your request, I think it’s time to put an end to our conversation.”

The Oni closed his eyes and turned his head away. His lips quivered, ready to say something, until Yaihan silenced him with a single jab to the forehead. The sound of soft flesh exploding echoed throughout the barren area. The other demon winced when he heard the sound while the injured soldier turned his head away from the gruesome scene. Yaihan shook off the bits of gore with a flick of his wrist. He turned around to face the wounded man until he noticed the first demon hobbling back up to his legs.

The cultivator reached for the slain demon’s sword. He held it by the hilt, and with a spin, threw it with enough force for it to soar towards the demon. The jagged blade pierced through his ribs, making the Oni wail in distress before collapsing on his side. With both demons now neutralized, Yaihan returned to the injured soldier. He lifted him by the back and looked into his eyes. 

“W-Who are you?” the soldier asked with the remaining breath he had.

“Yaihan. Yaihan Lu-Shun.”

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Art Spotlight: Yaihan Lu-Shun

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