Chương 7: Midnight Ambush

Rowan Rowan threw the shutters of the carriage window open, then thought better of it and kicked at the door and sent it flying into the nighttime forest. The six guards appointed to him by his uncle stood in a cautious semicircle around the carriage. Five of the men held assorted weapons. Rowan counted two spears, a long knife, a short sword and a worn club - no more than a hunk of iron tied to a thick branch. The man who had no weapon was Jan Shuman.

He'd been the one who'd tried to convince Rowan to veer off the main road to avoid the town earlier. They stared at Rowan in confused apprehension, exchanging looks with each other. Rowan touched his hair, which had grown past his shoulder blades. He looked at his hand. The skin was faintly luminous under the moonlight. Flawless. The scar over his knuckles he'd received in childhood from brawling with his cousins had vanished. He could feel qi pulsing steadily through his meridians, cool and rejuvenating.

His senses were sharper than before, but all he could smell was blood. Rowan braced himself and then looked down. Aquino was crumpled on the floor. A hand stayed stubbornly clamped against the wood. The warning he'd given Rowan had been his final act. He would never drink the elixir Rowan had promised to help him buy. Rowan unsheathed his sword from his sleeve, moonlight glinting along the sharp edge. The attackers spooked at the sight, now even more unsure and off-kilter.

Rowan doubted these men saw much magic in their lives.

"He hasn't even created his Qi Sea yet, he's barely a cultivator. The Benefactor says he's useless. Together!" snarled Jan. Rowan surveyed him.

"You left your machete in the carriage. If we are to fight, you should grab it," said Rowan softly, helpfully pointing his sword the right way. Jan gave him an uncertain stare. Seeing Rowan's lack of movement, he walked forward a step, carefully inching his way past Rowan. He reached into the dark, now unhinged carriage, for the machete he'd put through its back wall. Rowan ran him through with the sword, from the base of Jan's neck and out his mouth. He unsheathed it from the man's throat with a meaty schlick.

A few drops of blood flew off the blade. The rest of the men charged him at once. Rowan took a calming breath and leaped backwards in an arc, landing on top of the carriage with a crouch. He channeled his qi into his fist. He hadn't learned any real cultivation techniques yet, but this was a simple move. A blast shot out. It fizzled one foot away from him. Damn it. He slashed his sword in an arc, blocking the club aimed at his head.

Suddenly, he released one hand from the hilt and slapped his palm on the guard's shoulder, sending a qi blast directly into him. The attacker let out a wet gasp, sliding off the front of the carriage, blood pouring out of his nostrils. Rowan could hear the unsteady stuttering of his heart, disrupted by the qi. The man flopped onto one of the horses.

The horses were well-trained and hadn't reacted to the fight previously, but upon the man flopping onto it, one of the horses instinctively kicked, its hoof impacting his head and killing him instantly. A flurry of weapons reached up for him, and with gritted teeth, he parried them, pushing all his strength into the attacks.

"Damn it, Gugio! You said he'd be an easy mark!"

"That's what Boss Jan said!" Rowan sneered.

"I'm a direct descendant from the main line! You really thought I wouldn't have any sword skills?" He plunged his sword through a man's throat, his neck muscles contracting around the steel. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. A strike aimed at his back forced him to jump down from the carriage. When he landed, he freed his sword and hopped several paces back, putting distance between the three remaining guards. One of them was heavily wounded.

His tunic had been carved open, a deep cut gushing blood. His face was deathly pale. He tried to stumble forward, but his legs crumpled beneath him, folding over with a groan. At that, one man seemed to reconsider the odds and peeled off, fleeing, dropping his weapon somewhere in the forest.

"Hah." Rowan shook his sleeve. The Wandering Bulb flew out, its golden-brown roots curling in anticipation. It ran after the injured man. Now only one man stood before him, mostly unharmed save for what looked like a broken arm. He trembled in fear, kneeling down and setting the weapon on the ground. He bashed his forehead into the dirt as he kowtowed, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Please, Your Excellency, I'll do anything! Please spare my lowly life! I didn't know… I didn't know… it was all Boss Jan's idea!"

"Get up," said Rowan. He looked at his white robes, which had been slashed in places. He hadn't come out of the battle completely unwounded. A spear had stabbed through the side of his shoulder, and he knew his ankle was twisted. Being a Qi Condensation cultivator now meant that his injuries would heal faster than a mortal's, but nothing extreme. Still, he cycled his qi, feeling the injuries tingle with numbness.

"The body." Rowan jerked his chin towards the patriarch's dead servant.

"Cut a lock of his hair, then bury him."

"Will I live?"

"Be quiet," sniped Rowan coldly.

"You aren't qualified to think about your future." He returned to the busted-up carriage. Inside, Rowan sat stiffly, feeling like his heart was as cold and hard as stone. For all his bluster, he knew that if he hadn't broken through to the first layer of Qi Condensation, he wouldn't have survived the attack. His sword skills were better than theirs but he'd been heavily outnumbered. He'd relied heavily on his superior strength, speed, and agility to beat them.

Not to mention his skin was now significantly more resistant than a mortal's. If one of them had gotten a lucky shot early, taking him down and surrounding him, even his cultivation wouldn't have saved him from death. He closed his eyes, examining his Qi Sea. Only a few inexperienced qi blasts, and his Qi Sea was half depleted. Now that he was a proper Qi Condensation cultivator, his Qi Sea should refill on its own. Hopefully faster than usual, considering its A-Grade quality.

A bit of doubt wormed into his stomach. He might have a high-quality Qi Sea, but his Spirit Root was still deformed. Would he have an issue passively absorbing qi? When he heard the man pause his digging, Rowan opened the window shutter and glared at him, causing the digging to speed up. After the man finished setting the body inside the hole and re-filling it, he came up to the window to deliver the lock of hair. Rowan took it. If Aquino had family, it was proper to give them proof of his death.

"Your Excellency, should we bury the others?"

"No. Let them get pecked and eaten by vultures and turn into ghosts." The man nodded, grimacing.

"Gugio, is it?"

"Y-yes, Your Excellency!"

"You'll drive the carriage now. Deepwhale Pier. I know you're injured - I don't care. We don't stop unless I tell you to."

"Of course." The man was about to retreat, but Rowan stopped him.

"Wait. Collect anything valuable from your friends. Their weapons too. We'll sell them in the city." He paused, considering something.

"I have healing pills. Behave, and I might give you one." Blood-clotting pills, specifically. Nothing that would be helpful for a broken arm. Gugio ran to do his bidding. A crack and a yelp sounded as Gugio twisted the neck of the last dying man, knowing without even having been told what must be done. Rowan pressed his palm to his forehead, the stress of the night finally setting in. He shivered and pulled his robes tighter around him, cold despite the summer heat. This was a huge mess.

Uncle Bael had tried to murder him. Rowan might not have any real backing in the clan, but he was still a direct descendant of the main lineage - this couldn't go unpunished. If Uncle Bael realized his plan had failed, he would know his life was forfeit. He would try again if he realized Rowan survived. An ugly expression crossed Rowan's face. He knew his uncle was an untrustworthy snake, but he never would've expected that he was capable of something like this. He took out the bloodstone.

Grasped it so hard the rough edges imprinted on his skin. Who knew what tricks Uncle Bael had up his sleeve? Would he somehow spin all of this as an accident? Blame a scapegoat? Rowan wouldn't put it past him. No. He couldn't rely on House Helsing's justice. The word of an elder at the peak of Qi Condensation held far more weight than his. He had to gain his own power. His eyes were nearly bloodshot as he stared at the bloodstone. This artifact is my lucky break. With this, I'll soar to Qi Refining.

I'll have my own justice.