Chapter 23: The Night the Soil Bled
The night was still, the air heavy with tension. Lantern trees swayed softly, their leaves whispering as if warning the soil of what was to come.
Li Yuan stood at the center of the dirt path, his Rootsplit Hoe in hand, golden eyes reflecting the faint moonlight. His farmer's coat fluttered lightly in the breeze, but his stance was solid, unmoving.
The three intruders spread out, forming a loose triangle around him. Their movements were fluid, practiced—killers who had cut through entire sects before breakfast. The leader tilted his head slightly, tapping the ground once with his glowing staff.
Then they moved.
The First Strike
The assassin with the twin crescent blades launched forward first, moving so fast his feet barely touched the ground. His blades blurred in the dark, spinning in a deadly arc toward Li Yuan's neck.
But Li Yuan didn't dodge.
He shifted his weight, twisting the Hoe slightly, its wooden shaft meeting the blades with a perfect clack. The crescent blades screeched against the old farmer's tool, sparks spraying into the night.
Before the assassin could recover, Li Yuan rotated the Hoe, hooking one blade with the metal head and yanking. The assassin stumbled forward—
Crack!
A golden root erupted from the soil beneath his feet, coiling around his leg and pulling him downward with bone-snapping force.
Li Yuan stepped aside calmly, the assassin's body slamming into the dirt hard enough to crater it.
The Chained Sickle Dances
The second intruder was already moving, swinging his chained sickle in a wide arc. The blade whistled through the air, wrapping around the Rootsplit Hoe mid-swing.
With a sharp tug, the sickle yanked hard, aiming to disarm him.
Li Yuan didn't resist. Instead, he stepped forward into the pull, spinning with the motion. The sickle's chain tightened, and in that instant, Li Yuan swung the Hoe in a brutal downward arc.
The ground split open as massive roots erupted upward, catching the chain mid-twist and wrapping around it. The sickle wielder's eyes widened as the roots yanked back, reversing the pull.
Li Yuan followed through, slamming the wooden shaft of his Hoe into the man's chest like a battering ram.
The sickle wielder flew backward, crashing through a fence and skidding into the dirt, coughing blood.
The Leader Steps In
The leader had not moved until now. His glowing staff hummed with a low, eerie sound as he tapped it once on the ground.
The soil beneath Li Yuan's feet turned black instantly, rotting roots curling upward. A suppression field—designed to nullify spiritual energy—spread in a perfect circle.
Li Yuan crouched slightly, feeling the shift in the soil.
The leader moved fast, staff thrusting forward in a clean strike aimed at Li Yuan's chest. Unlike his men, there was no wasted motion—every strike precise, trained to kill gods.
Li Yuan twisted aside, the staff grazing his shoulder, and countered with a low, sweeping Hoe strike. The leader blocked, staff and Hoe clashing with a loud crack, sending dirt spraying outward.
For the first time, Li Yuan's golden eyes narrowed. The leader was strong. Not Harrower-strong, but strong enough to keep up with him for now.
The Soil Fights Back
The leader pressed his attack, staff spinning in rapid arcs, forcing Li Yuan back step by step. The corrupted soil slowed the roots' response, leaving him to rely solely on his movement and precision.
But Li Yuan was, above all else, a farmer. And farmers adapted to their soil.
He slammed his foot down.
Thrum!
Tiny golden sprouts burst through the blackened soil despite its corruption. They grew rapidly, forming thorned vines that lashed upward, forcing the leader to retreat a step.
The leader swept his staff in a wide arc, slicing through the sprouts, but that was all Li Yuan needed. He stepped into the opening, swinging the Hoe in a brutal upward arc.
The metal head of the Hoe caught the staff mid-swing, snapping it cleanly in half.
The leader's eyes widened just slightly.
No Mercy for Weeds
Li Yuan didn't give him time to recover. He slammed the Hoe into the soil, and this time, he didn't hold back.
Massive golden roots burst from the ground, coiling around the leader like serpents, lifting him off the ground and squeezing until his ribs cracked audibly. The leader struggled, trying to break free, but the roots tightened.
Li Yuan stepped closer, golden eyes steady.
With a single clean swing, he struck the leader's chest with the flat of the Hoe.
The impact sounded like a tree being split—crack!
The leader flew backward, crashing into the dirt hard enough to leave a deep crater. He lay still, unconscious but alive.
The Crescents Return
The first assassin, the one with crescent blades, pulled himself out of the dirt, blood running down his face. He screamed, charging again in desperation.
Li Yuan turned calmly.
One step. One swing.
The Hoe moved so fast it was almost invisible.
The assassin's blades shattered on impact, and the force sent him crashing into the same crater as his leader.
The Final Blow
The sickle wielder, coughing blood, tried to stand, but golden roots surged from the soil, coiling around him gently—not to kill, but to hold.
Li Yuan turned his gaze briefly toward the three defeated intruders. His calm voice carried across the silent village:
"You're not weeds. Just misplaced seeds. Leave, and grow differently next time."
The sickle wielder stared at him, stunned, before passing out.
The Soil Breathes Again
The blackened soil faded, replaced by soft glowing sprouts that spread naturally across the battlefield, as if breathing relief. The Seedbuds blinked, their golden eyes softening.
Budder stepped forward, tilting its head.
"Planted… without killing?"
Li Yuan smiled faintly, resting the Hoe on his shoulder.
"That's the only way to grow properly."
The villagers, who had watched silently, now erupted in relieved cheers, though they still stared at him with awe and a little fear.
Ashborne's Hidden Eyes
Far beyond the village, Ashborne crouched on a distant rooftop, watching with a faint, conflicted smile.
"Still refusing to kill. Even now. You're going to get yourself killed one day, old friend…"
His smile faded as his gaze shifted to the horizon, where faint crimson threads pulsed in the sky.
"And the Harrower won't wait much longer."
End of Chapter 23