Chapter 8: Master's Farewell
Ever asked yourself how many times you live in a second? I did. I always did. Sometimes, I would pretend I knew the answer, giving myself an air of certainty. But the truth was, I didn't. Life happened too fast, far too fast for me to grasp.
We had made a run for it, desperate and panicked, toward the back of the mountain where the lake lay quiet and still, far away from the salty roar of the sea. The idea had seemed solid in my mind… if we could just reach the lake, we could hide, regroup, maybe even survive. But we didn't make it far.
I remembered the moment clearly, the sharp crack of energy beneath our feet, the sudden shimmer of unseen formations activating all around us. We had triggered alarm after alarm, each one louder than the last, betraying our every movement to the hunters who thirsted for our lives.
Everything since then had been a blur. I was helpless, even though my cultivation level matched most of the attackers. My martial prowess, however, didn't. I was a learner of qi, a dreamer of techniques, but against seasoned killers, I might as well have been a hatchling thrown before wolves.
Did I have regrets? Regrets of running over to my Master, insisting he run away with me? I did. Yet that regret was small compared to the crushing guilt of leaving him alone and vulnerable. Still, regret was regret. It tasted no sweeter, no lighter, just bitter and heavy. Thus, I cried.
Tears blurred my vision as I stared at the burning red sky, the horizon bleeding into flames. Three cultivators stood around my master's battered form, circling like vultures over a dying lion. Each wore a red veil over their face, a blackened character for 'fire' (火) stitched into the cloth, as if branding themselves with their cruelty.
Floating above them, descending slowly with a cruel grace, was a cultivator whose back bore blazing wings of fire. They folded and then dissolved into wisps of qi as he touched the ground, the air itself quivering at his presence.
He smirked, arrogance dripping from every word as he said, "Greetings, lowly beast. My name is Huo Jian."
His eyes flicked over my master with disdain, lips curling as if he were examining a particularly offensive insect.
"Such a small thing," he said, "but filled with great power. Truly, a beast through and through. If you had been at the peak of your strength, we wouldn't have stood a chance."
Around us, the forest bore witness to the violence… blackened trees, rended earth, and the stench of scorched life filling the air.
As for me, I was bleeding out, chest sticky with blood where the spear had pinned me like a grotesque trophy. I remembered landing a few hits… one, maybe two… before they swarmed me, overwhelming me with sheer numbers and brute force.
I heard them laughing at me, their voices distant yet sharp enough to cut through the haze of my pain.
"Looks strange for a chicken," one of them sneered, poking at me with the butt of his weapon.
"Maybe it's a rare species," another said, crouching low to examine me as if I were some curiosity. "Should we save it?"
Huo Jian's voice cracked through their chatter like a whip. "Enough babbling, third-rates. Kill the bird!"
"No!" My master's voice rose, ragged but filled with a terrible authority.
Huo Jian paused, amusement flickering in his gaze. He held up a hand, signaling the ones pinning me down to halt.
"Why?" he asked, mockery lacing the single word.
My master straightened his broken frame, blood dripping from his matted fur, and said with quiet conviction, "He's my disciple."
For a moment, there was silence and then Huo Jian threw back his head and laughed. It was a cruel sound, full of derision and disbelief.
"Imitating humans, are you?" he sneered, his eyes gleaming. "Master? Disciple? Do you even understand how ridiculous you sound, beast?"
I clenched my beak shut, tasting blood and humiliation. But I did not look away. No matter how absurd, no matter how much they laughed, the truth remained carved into my soul… I was his disciple, and he was my master.
Even if this was the end.
Ah... I began to think this might have been my fault all along. No… it was definitely my fault.
I stared at the other members of the Huo Clan, watching the spectacle unfold as if it were nothing more than a street performance. They lounged casually around the scorched clearing, each of them carrying talismans that glimmered faintly, their power weaving together into an invisible net that pressed down on my Master. They were standing in a formation too intricate for me to fully understand, one meant not to kill, but to suppress, to rob him of his strength and dignity bit by bit.
Yes, this was my fault. I scolded myself viciously inside. Maybe... maybe Master wasn't actually dying. Maybe, while it was true that he had reached the end of his natural lifespan, he had a plan all along… to break through at the last moment, to shatter the limits of his aging body, to challenge them and emerge victorious.
And then, just like he had said, I would leave and journey across the land, raising my cultivation with hardship and effort. One day, I would return to the Sacred Hill, and I would find him there, grumbling about the weeds in the garden, very much alive.
I knew I was deluding myself. But knowing didn't stop the desperate hope from clawing its way through my chest.
"Master," I choked out through the blood in my throat, "I'm sorry."
Master Song turned his head slightly and, to my surprise, laughed… a deep, rough sound full of warmth even in this hopeless place.
"It isn't your fault," he said. His voice was steady, carrying over the quiet mockery of the surrounding cultivators. "Do not blame yourself, Little One."
He shifted his stance, adjusting his battered weapon. His greatsword, a weapon that would have passed as a mere kitchen knife to a human, gleamed dully in the ruddy light.
"If anything," he continued, his eyes shining with a tired kind of pride, "it is my inadequacy as your Master. My heart was too soft. I could not bear to drive you away when I should have."
Tears blurred my vision again, hot and useless. I could do nothing but watch as Master Song hefted his sword and leveled it at Huo Jian, the leader of the Huo Clan's hunting party.
"I challenge you," Master Song declared, his voice ringing out clearly, "to a duel!"
The clearing fell silent for a heartbeat before bursting into cruel laughter. Huo Jian's voice was the loudest among them, a sneering bark that made my skin crawl.
"Going too far with your imitations, aren't you?" Huo Jian jeered. His lips curled back in contempt as he spoke. "A mere rodent daring to challenge me in a fight? A duel no less?"
As he spoke, Huo Jian's dark hair began to shimmer, strands igniting one by one until his entire head of hair blazed like a torch, transforming from black to a molten orange. His qi flared outward, heating the air until it shimmered between us.
"I would have refused, normally," Huo Jian said, flexing his fingers lazily, as if he found the whole idea laughable. "But... I'll humor you, pitiful creature. I'll give you a little face in front of your foolish disciple."
Master Song stood tall, unflinching. "If you humans can imitate the ways of beasts and cultivate martial might," he said, "then why can we not learn the ways of humans and cultivate wisdom?"
His words were met with another round of laughter, crueler than before. The other Huo Clan members jeered openly now, their faces twisting with mockery.
"You think yourself clever, beast?" Huo Jian sneered. "Even with your Foundation Establishment strength, you're helpless! Our formation suppresses you to Qi Gathering. You're nothing more than a stubborn old mouse."
While Huo Jian postured, bragging before his sycophants, I fought desperately against the spear that pinned me. My claws scrabbled against the ground, blood slicking my feathers, but the weapon held fast, driven deep into the earth through my chest. Every movement sent agony crashing through me, but I refused to stop. I had to reach him. I had to help.
I lifted my head just in time to see the battle begin. Horror twisted my gut.
Master Song charged first, sword flashing like a streak of light. Yet for every blow he struck, Huo Jian responded with a casual flick of his fist, sending shockwaves through the air that shattered stone and bark alike. Huo Jian didn't even draw a weapon. He fought barehanded, dismissively, as if Master Song wasn't worth the effort of unsheathing a blade.
The irony struck me harder than the spear embedded in my body. My Master… the noble, wise, and fierce Master Song… was fighting with a sword against a man who only needed his fists.
And he was losing.
"Master!" I cried out, my voice hoarse and broken.
Master Song staggered, blood dripping from a fresh gash across his shoulder. Yet he did not fall. Not yet.
But deep inside, I knew. This was not a fight he could win.
This was a death sentence he had accepted… for my sake.
"This is getting boring," Huo Jian sneered as he flung my Master's severed left arm to the side, like discarding a broken toy.
Master Song staggered but righted himself, panting, blood dripping steadily from his wounds. His grip tightened around the hilt of his greatsword. His voice, despite everything, remained calm as he said, "If you'd find it in your fancy, would you allow me to show you one final move? I swear... it won't bore you."
For a moment, Huo Jian looked contemplative, the flames in his hair dimming slightly. But there wasn't a hint of caution in his posture, no wariness in his eyes. He saw only a defeated beast asking for one last desperate flourish.
"Fine," he said lazily, waving his hand as if granting a favor to a begging child.
Master Song turned his gaze toward me, and for an instant, it was just the two of us, locked in a world apart from the battlefield's ruin.
"My disciple, watch carefully," he said, his voice low but steady. "There is a technique I have contemplated for some time... by combining Heaven Thundering Steps and Earth Sundering Spade."
He raised his greatsword, the battered blade trembling in his grasp. Qi exploded from him, wild and unrestrained, the pressure forcing cracks into the earth at his feet. His entire small frame seemed to swell, his presence towering despite his body's obvious ruin.
"You said power beneath Foundation Establishment would be suppressed," Master Song said, a faint, almost mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "But what if... it was a strike at the level of Core Formation?"
"What?!" Huo Jian's voice cracked, and for the first time, there was real panic in his tone.
Before he could move, before he could even think to run, Master Song brought his sword down with a roar that seemed to split the heavens.
"Sundering Heaven and Earth!"
The world responded.
I watched, awe and terror flooding my heart, as the mountainside itself tore open… a jagged scar from the raging sky all the way to the trembling ground. The very air screamed as the force of the blow tore through it, ripping apart everything in its path.
Huo Jian was gone… swallowed up in a flash of light and dust, not even ashes remaining. Several of the Huo cultivators standing too close were caught in the torrent of unleashed qi, and I could only watch helplessly as they were shredded to nothingness, reduced to mere dust on the blood-soaked wind.
The survivors, those lucky or cowardly enough to have lingered further back, screamed in terror and fled in every direction, abandoning all semblance of order.
Through the chaos, Master Song flickered, his battered body moving faster than I could see. In an instant, the cultivators pinning me down were slain… clean strikes and no wasted movement.
And somehow... somehow, amid all the devastation, I alone remained untouched. The world in front of me was sundered, cracked, broken… yet I lay there, weakly breathing, cradled in a small, untouched patch of green.
Master Song staggered toward me, crouching down, his small, battered form folding beside mine. His fur was matted with blood, his eyes dim but still filled with warmth as he stared at me lying limply in the grass.
A faint chuckle escaped his throat as he asked, "What did you say before... about dying surrounded by enemies not being cool?"
I sobbed, trying to smile, my vision swimming. "I'm sorry, Master..."
He chuckled again, even softer now, as if every sound cost him a little more of what little life remained.
"You were right," he said, lowering his head until our foreheads nearly touched. "It isn't cool... that's why... I'm glad you're here, my disciple. I have... at least one precious person with me before I go."
His paw, rough and calloused, brushed my head gently, one last clumsy attempt at a comforting pat. "My disciple, as my one last gift… what do you think of a name?"
"It will be my honor."
"Zhen Ren," he said.
珍人
And then he added, "It means Precious Person…" Finally, Master Song's body crumbled into dust as slowly, he turned into small motes of light. "Goodbye, my disciple…"
I wept harder, clutching at his sleeve with my useless dodo wings, knowing there was nothing I could do to stop the inevitable. But Master Song just smiled, serene, even as the last of the little motes of light dispersed to the ether and vanished for eternity.
"F-farewell," I stuttered through tears, "Master Song!"