Savage Awakening 463. Jack (I)

A/N: Bonus chapter! Also, added to prior chapter this bit about Evan’s quest! 

 The only thing was, the Quest said it could involve a Title Evolution. Evan wasn’t clear on what that meant yet—only the Quest said it could be really hard. It’d challenge him—‘not just in spirit, but in heart.’ 

But it meant he could get strong enough to fight by Zane’s side. So he was all for it. 

//

Zane got to town and found it stuffed to the brim. There were just two inns in town, and they were both packed. Lines of fancy-looking carriages were scattered outside, most emblazoned with shiny emblems. One showed a flying fish; another, a crow flying across the moon. Guards in spiffy robes manned the lines, glaring at anyone who got within glaring distance.

It seemed whole sects were passing through. He saw a few white-bearded elders out and about.

It wasn’t hard to tell the townsfolk apart from the visitors. The townsfolk were mostly low Nascent, wearing plain wool and linen. Not too different from Zane’s outfit, he was pleased to see—he’d chosen a simple tunic and shorts. Other than being dust-splattered, he thought he fit right in.

The visitors were mostly peak Nascents or Ascendants. All gold and silver and silks.

“Is all this really necessary?” said a particularly golden young man. He waved at the carriages. “At this rate, we’ll miss the opening ceremony!”

“There are worse things than missing a ceremony,” said an Elder patiently. “It’s a fool’s errand to rush the Uncharted Woods, young master. Especially lately.”

“It’s only a few more Monsters,” the young master groaned. “I swear. The longer I spend here—it’s like I can feel the dust seeping through my skin.”

He looked around and saw Zane coming up.

“Hello there,” said Zane. Rather amiably, he thought. He gave a friendly wave. “I’m new around here. What’s all this fuss about?”

The young master looked like he couldn’t believe Zane was actually talking to him. “See what I have to deal with?” he cried.

The Elder looked slightly awkward. “Excuse me,” he said to Zane.

The two headed off.

“…”

He tried again with another nearby fellow—different sect this time—and got similar results. He asked a sect guard, who wrinkled his nose like he smelled something off but didn’t say much else.

Was it his clothes?

He was rather scruffy. It came with crash-landing into a field, he supposed.

He had better luck with the next fellow he found—a well-built young man in a toga and a black belt. Close-cropped hair. Nailing up a notice to a board.

“Sure, what’s up?” said the guy, brightening. He held out a hand. “Jun.”

“Jack.”

“That’s a strong grip, friend,” said the guy. “You wouldn’t happen to be a warrior?”

“Martial artist.”

Jun brightened. “Same here! I’m a Tiger-Claw Fist practitioner myself.”

This was an unfortunate coincidence because the martial art Zane had made up for himself was called the ‘Tiger Fang Fist.’

He was also realizing that a real martial artist would be able to tell pretty fast he wasn’t doing Tiger-y movements, especially another Tiger-based fellow.

He hadn’t given it much thought. He figured it didn’t matter much, as long as it didn’t give off ‘Zane.’ Still—probably best to refine his backstory some.

“So. What’re you looking for?” said Jun.

Zane gestured at the hubbub. “Just curious what all this fuss is about.”

“It’s just the Sects taking a pit stop,” said Jun. “This town’s the last real checkpoint before we get to the Capital proper. So it’s something of a mess, as you’ve seen…”

“No. I mean, what are they here for?”

Jun looked at him funny. “Like… the Summit?”

“That’s the one.”

Jun looked baffled.

“I live deep in the mountains, practicing my martial art,” Zane informed him. “I don’t get out much.”

“…Ah.” Jun blinked. “I guess I’m just surprised, is all, since you’re a martial artist—it’s only the biggest fighter’s summit of the era! It draws the greatest talents from all over the divine continents. You don’t even need to win—just getting past preliminaries is a great honor.”

He thumped his chest and gave an easy grin. “That’s what I’m aiming for, anyway—that and the folks I’m with.”

“…You’re not with a sect?” Jun wasn’t wearing any emblem.

Jun nodded. “It’s just me and a few other loose cultivators on the town outskirts…” he hesitated.

“You wouldn’t happen to be one too, would you?”

“Something like that.”

Jun considered him for a moment.

“Actually,” Jun said. “We’re fielding a crew to cross the Uncharted Woods. We were just looking for a tank.”

He showed Zane what he’d been nailing up—a notice to the bulletin: 200 silvers for tanking services.

Something about the look of him—maybe his aura—seemed to convince the fellow.

“If you’re ever looking for extra work,” said Jun brightly. “We could really do with an extra hand. We’d pay the due, of course—200 silvers for two weeks' work.”

“Sure,” said Zane, thinking this was all turning out quite well, given how it had started. “I was just looking for work, actually.”

“Great! I’ll introduce you to the crew.”

***

Which was how he found himself at their camp. It was a humble few wagons—maybe two dozen fighters total. A few folks were sharpening their axes, tossing eggs over the flame, and practicing fist techniques—hup-hup-hup!

“Morning, folks!” said Jun cheerfully. “This is Jack.”

He caught a few waves as he went by. Most went back to practice. A few paused to look at him—mostly curious, rather than suspicious.

“That’s Ryu right there—one of our strongest,” said Jun.

Ryu was a young man, pale with long hair and delicate features. He held his sword as gently as he would a paintbrush; then he breathed out, eyes shining, and slashed.

He held his position after he finished his slash. A few seconds later, the boulder before him split in two—so clean, the halves made two glossy shining slabs.

“He’s a real prodigy with the sword,” said Jun. “Then there’s Kira.”

Kira was a girl sitting alone at the edge of camp. She had a black scarf covering half her face, black hair, black combat fatigues, and violet eyes. A shortbow was strapped to her back, along with a set of dusky daggers.

“The three of us lead this little crew,” said Jun.

“This is the tank you found?” said Ryu.

“That’s right,” said Jun.

Ryu gave him a once-over. “Can you fight?”

“That’s what I’m best at,” Zane informed him.

Ryu grinned. “Okay. I’m on board.”

He went back to polishing his sword.

“…Seriously? That’s it?”
Kira arched a perfect brow. “Who even is this guy?”

“This is Jack,” said Jun, brows furrowing. “He’s a martial artist.”

Kira eyed the dirt on Zane’s clothes, face, and hands. The more she saw, the less she seemed to like. “And he’s the best you could get?” she said. “Two hundred silvers is enough for a gold-ranked mercenary.”

“Come on, Kira,” said Jun, helpless. “I’ve tried—we’ve been here a week now. It’s not like there are mercenaries on every street corner—it’s Jade Leaf town! Besides...”

He gave Zane an earnest look. “I’ve got a good feeling about him.”

“Right.” Kira crossed her arms. “You’re a martial artist, are you?”

“That’s right,” said Zane.

“I’m sure. Which martial art do you even practice? Go on, show us some Skills.”

“Kira!” said Jun.He looked at Zane, a tad worried. “I’m sure she didn’t mean to question your honor, friend—she’s just… rather careful with strangers.”

“I say we get someone else,” she said firmly. “I won’t put my life in the hands of some street thug.”

It seemed a little harsh to Zane. Then again—looking at himself, he supposed he didn’t really look the martial artist type. He’d have to find a fresh change of clothes.

“Look,” said a cultivator—sharpening a big axe. “I don’t mean to start anything, but… just feel his aura—he feels plenty strong to me. I mean, just look at the guy!”

“It’s not like we need the Sword Saint,” said another.

“There are really not a lot of loose cultivators anyway…”

“I think he’ll do just fine,” said Ryu brightly. “It’s settled, then.”

“…Fine.” Kira narrowed her eyes at him. He had the odd feeling she thought her glare would scare him. “When the time comes you’d better stand and fight.”

“…You don’t need to worry about that,” said Zane, amused.

They set off around noon—making their way through one of the thousands of twisting paths through the Uncharted Woods, making for the capital.

The Monster attacks here had really ramped up of late. Monster strength too. Folks thought something was disturbing the region—the Corruption in the air had skyrocketed. No one had figured out why.

Even without Monsters, the woods were enough of a challenge. It was the kind of place he would have gotten lost in, even with a map. But these folk seemed to know where they were going.

So far he was pretty happy with how he was doing with this whole low-profile thing. The only crack was Kira—side-eyeing him every hour or so.

She seemed convinced he wasn’t a real martial artist. Which, to be fair—wasn’t wrong.

She’d come up to him and poke him with a question every few hours, like she was determined to prove it.

Just after sundown, she had her chance.

The sky was quickly darkening, shadows pooling beneath the trees, and the deep wood became an impenetrable veil.

Then growls started through the thick.

“Everyone up!” roared Jun. “Battle stations!”

And out prowled the herd.

Bleakwolf (Monster Lord)

Essence Level 455

Bleakwolf (Monster Lord)

Essence Level 432

Wolves two times the size of any nature made. Coats black as night with teeth like Crescent Moons…

“Mid-ascendant?!”

“What’s that—twenty?”

“Thirty,” said Kira grimly.

“I’ve never seen so many in my life…”

Ryu drew his sword with practiced grace. “Stay sharp, everyone,” he said softly.

Kira whipped out her bow and leaped to a far branch, notching three arrows at once. The front-liners hefted their shields.

Zane found himself in a strange position.

He had to fight—just not too hard.

The trouble was, he also had to make up a martial art on the spot—one that could withstand some scrutiny. He’d given the matter some thought these past few hours.

He did have his Grandmaster of Martial Arts Skill—but that was a passive buff that basically meant he did all the basics of Earth martial arts very well.

But ‘normal punches done very well’ wouldn’t really cut it as a martial art here. You didn’t hole yourself up in a mountain for twenty years—like Zane had done in his backstory—just to practice some basic punches.

Earlier he saw Jun make a phantom tiger come out of his fist. That kind of thing.

He needed something more distinctive. Some real active Skills. At the same time, it had to withstand scrutiny. Not just from Kira—he was going somewhere with tons of real martial artists.

If he made up a sword, or axe, or fist art, he figured it’d be pretty easy to tell he didn’t know what he was doing.

No. He needed something fully his own, something no one else was an expert in—something no one could call him out on.

He just had to find the right weapon.

***

“How the hells are there so many?!” gasped Rowan. His staff hand was trembling.

“I swear the bastards got 40 Levels stronger since the last time we passed through…”

“Shit!”

The front line was starting to buckle. Fangs cracking shields.

“Fire!” cried Kira.

Their mages cried out. Ice bolts and fire breaths crashed over the din, tumbling a few wolves. But more surged over, swift and deadly.

Kira herself fired so fast her hands were a blur, gasping. Shadow after shadow sliced out.

But it took three to down one wolf.

It wasn’t fast enough.

Where was that big oaf?!