Dawn cast a gray, sickly light over the dying oasis. Li Jin hadn't slept. He had spent the rest of the night studying the poison, using his sharpened senses to understand its nature. It was a complex concoction, made from scorpion venom and rare desert minerals. Without the exact formula for the antidote, any attempt at a cure would be futile, if not dangerous.
He left the Viper man bound and gagged under the watch of the village elder, with clear instructions not to touch him. He took a single gourd of uncontaminated water he had purified himself, the map, and his sword. His path was set.
Walking in the desert was a trial in itself. The sun was a bronze hammer that struck relentlessly. The landscape was an endless expanse of sand and rock, where every dune looked like the last. But Li Jin was no ordinary traveler. He connected with the Breath of the World, feeling for the cooler air currents, for the traces of moisture beneath the sand. He moved with an efficiency that defied the heat, his internal energy shielding him from exhaustion.
It's a trap, the Tiger whispered, its voice as dry as the desert wind. They're waiting for you. The snake knows you're coming. Confrontation is inevitable. Don't hope for subtlety. Be ready to strike.
Li Jin knew the beast was right. Discretion had served him until now, but against a sect like the Black Vipers, known for their traps and paranoia, a direct approach might be the only option.
After a day's march, he saw the rock formation from the map. It was a small canyon, a scar carved into the desert floor, invisible from more than a few hundred paces away. The entrance was narrow, flanked by rocks that looked like stone fangs. The Viper's Den.
He stopped, hiding behind a rocky outcrop. He watched. He saw no guards. He felt no human presence. The place was silent. Too silent. It was the stillness of a spider's web just before the prey touches it.
He chose not to enter through the obvious path. He climbed the canyon wall, his fingers finding holds in the crumbling rock. He moved along the ridge, making himself as small and unobtrusive as a desert lizard.
From up there, he saw the canyon's interior. It was no simple camp. Caves had been dug into the rock walls, connected by rope bridges. In the center of the canyon, a larger tent of black silk was pitched. The leader's dwelling, surely. He saw figures moving about, darkly clad disciples, either training or preparing concoctions in smoking cauldrons.
He spotted one isolated cave, set slightly apart from the others. The smoke coming from it was different, more acrid. The smell of alchemy, of poisons and antidotes. That was it. The laboratory.
To get down into the canyon unseen was nearly impossible. He had to create a diversion.
He watched the sun begin to set. The shadows grew long. He waited for the perfect moment, the time between day and night when the light is most deceiving.
He used a technique he had not practiced since his training with the Grand Master. He focused on a loose boulder high above the canyon entrance. He did not touch it. He projected his intent, a whisper of Qi, a suggestion of imbalance.
The boulder tipped. It fell with a thunderous crash, starting a small avalanche of rock and sand that partially blocked the main entrance to the canyon.
Shouts rose from below. Disciples rushed toward the entrance to see what had happened. Most of the eyes in the canyon were turned in that direction.
It was the diversion he needed.
Taking advantage of the chaos, Li Jin descended the cliff face at a dizzying speed, using ropes and handholds he had scouted. He landed in a deep shadow near the laboratory. He slipped inside the cave.
The air was almost unbreathable, a mix of chemical and herbal smells. Rock-hewn shelves were lined with jars, vials, dried herbs, and animal parts preserved in fluid. On a stone table, he saw what he was looking for. A series of labeled flasks. One of them bore the symbol of an oasis. Next to it was another flask, filled with an amber liquid. The antidote.
He took it, along with a few other vials that looked like remedies. He only had seconds. He turned to leave.
A soft, melodious voice filled the cave. "Have you found what you were looking for, disciple of the Tiger?"
A man stood in the entrance, blocking the exit. He was old, but his body was straight and vigorous. He wore a black silk robe embroidered with a silver viper. His hair was snow white, and his eyes, a solid, pupil-less black, seemed to absorb all light. He carried no visible weapon.
A wave of cold washed over Li Jin. The man's energy was immense, but stagnant, like a deep, bottomless swamp. This was the Master of the Black Vipers.
"I came for a cure for the innocents you have poisoned," Li Jin said, his hand going to the hilt of his sword.
The old man smiled. A smile without warmth that did not reach his dead eyes. "Innocents? No one is innocent. There are only the strong and the weak. I take what is weak and make it strong. Or I eliminate it. It is the way of nature." He looked at Li Jin. "The rockslide was a clever trick. But you underestimate the snake. It feels the vibrations in its web. I knew you were here the moment you set foot on my territory."
Li Jin wasted no time with words. He attacked. He used the Tiger's Pounce, an explosion of speed and power meant to overwhelm his opponent.
The old man barely moved. He raised one hand, palm open. Just as Li Jin's fist was about to strike, the hand moved like a snake, coiling around Li Jin's wrist.
Li Jin felt an icy coldness shoot up his arm. A black, viscous energy was seeping into his meridians, seeking to paralyze his Qi.
He reacted instantly. He let the Tiger's pure fury erupt in his arm, a torrent of hot, vibrant Qi that blasted the corrupting energy back. He tore his wrist free with a sharp tug.
"Impressive," the Viper Master said, seeming unaffected. "You have a strong life-force. But brute strength is useless against poison. Every time you use your power, you only hasten the venom in your veins."
Li Jin looked at his wrist. Two small red marks, like a snakebite, had appeared on his skin. He hadn't even felt the touch.
Cold, rational fear tried to take hold. He had just been poisoned.
Strike! Kill him! Take the antidote from his corpse! the Tiger screamed, panicking.
Li Jin forced himself to be calm. Panic was the poison's ally. He circulated his Qi to slow the venom's progress, isolating it in his arm. But he knew it was only a temporary fix. He was losing strength every second.
"You see?" the old man said. "The fight is already over. Give me what you have taken, and I will grant you a quick death. Or better yet. Join me. Your strength, combined with my knowledge... we could rule these lands."
"I would rather die on my feet than rule on my knees," Li Jin replied.
He knew he couldn't win a battle of attrition. He had one chance. One attack.
He closed his eyes, ignoring his opponent. He turned inward. He didn't speak to the Tiger. He spoke to the mountain within him. To the calm, steady strength he had cultivated. He remembered the Grand Master. The Breath of the World is also a voice.
He stopped containing the poison. He stopped fighting it. He accepted it. He let the black energy circulate, but he did not let it control him. He became the water that accepts the poison, diluting it in its vastness.
Then, he gathered all his energy. Not just the Qi in his body. Not just the fury of the Tiger. He drew on the Breath of the World itself, becoming a channel for the pure life-force of the earth beneath his feet.
The Tiger mark on his chest blazed with an intense green light, visible even through his tunic. His jade-hilted sword, at his belt, began to vibrate, emitting a low, melodic hum. It was singing.
The Master of the Black Vipers took a step back, for the first time an expression of shock on his face. He had never seen such a concentration of pure, vital energy. It was the antithesis of everything he was.
Li Jin opened his eyes. They were glowing green. He drew his sword.
He didn't charge. He took a single step forward. He made a single cut. A simple, perfect, vertical slash.
It was not a sword strike. It was a wave of pure energy. A wave of life that surged through the cave. It did not cut stone. It did not cut flesh. It purified.
The wave struck the Master of the Black Vipers. He did not scream. The corrupt, stagnant energy that formed his power was instantly annihilated by the flood of pure vitality. It was like pouring clear water into a cup of ink. The ink did not vanish. It was simply overwhelmed, dissolved, rendered impotent.
The old man stood for a moment, his black eyes widening in comprehension. Then his strength left him. He collapsed, not dead, but empty. A frail, powerless old man, his evil power reduced to nothing.
At the same moment, Li Jin felt the poison within him dissolve, burned away by the wave of purity he had channeled.
He staggered, the effort having nearly drained him. He still held the antidote. He had won.
He walked out of the cave. The disciples, drawn by the light and the sound, were gathered outside. They saw him emerge, his sword still glowing faintly. They saw their master, defeated, crawling out of the cave behind him.
They did not attack. They stared at him with superstitious awe. The aura of life that emanated from him was both terrifying and mesmerizing.
Li Jin paid them no heed. He walked through their ranks, and no one dared to stop him. He left the canyon, leaving behind a beheaded sect and a broken power.
The journey back was an act of sheer will. He drank a small amount of the antidote to counter the last effects of the poison, but his real fatigue was spiritual. He had touched a power he did not fully understand. He had channeled life itself.
He reached Lüyin as the sun rose on a new day. He gave the antidote to the elder with precise instructions. He watched as the villagers began to drink the cure, hope slowly returning to their faces.
His task here was done. He did not wait for thanks. He turned and walked away, disappearing into the heating desert.
He had defeated another monster. But he had also glimpsed the depth of the power that slept within him. And that vision frightened him far more than any enemy.