The Man in the Spire: Book 1, Chapter 5—Our Lords and Saviors

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Book 1, Chapter 5

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Our Lords and Saviors

Troy Rechlin - 2nd Lieutenant of the Peacekeeper Union Corp

Troy’s feelings about the old horseman, Li Ming, were… complicated. The man was pleasant enough, a warm smile always ready, laughter quick and genuine, with a wit that came as naturally as breathing.

But Li’s habit of speaking in riddles, and worse, his probing questions about Troy’s past, gnawed at him. In another time, in another place, Troy might’ve welcomed the companionship. In a world like this, men like Li are never to be taken for granted. Troy might’ve come clean about everything if they’d met under different circumstances. But with trust a precious commodity, caution was the smarter play.

“So…” Troy leaned back slightly, hoping to redirect the conversation off himself. “You called this little place the ‘Village of the Lost.’ Why’s that?”

“Hm? Ah, yes, yes!” Li’s face lit up as he refilled his cup, dropping in a pinch of fresh herbs. “I suppose that does need explaining for one who explores so far from home .”

Explore. Ha. I wish, Troy kept the thought to himself.

With a sip, the horsekin savored the change in flavor before continuing. “The name ‘Village of the Lost’ is what us locals call it. But among travelers and wandering cultivators, it is known by another name… the Temple of Mulan.”

“Am I right in guessing that refers to the giant temple I passed on the way in?” Troy asked.

“The one and only!” Li’s eyes shone with pride, his voice swelling as though the very air demanded reverence, “Dedicated to the legendary Qin Mulan, warrior, savior, and slayer of the dreaded Lady Bone Demon!” He leaned forward, lowering his tone to a near-whisper, as if even speaking the demon’s name risked drawing unwanted evil. “When the heavens trembled and the earth split under the terror of demon and her undead horde, Mulan alone stood defiant. With her legendary Lance of Magra, spirit unbroken, and her will tempered by suffering, she banished the demon and sealed her beneath the heart of the world, never again to rise in the mortal realm again.”

Troy’s brow furrowed. A nice story, but not really what he wanted to know. “Alright… then why do the locals call it the Village of the Lost?”

“It’s more chance than design.” Li swirled his tea in a manner most tranquil, taking a soothing sip. “Back in my youth, lords came here to meditate, seeking visions of what lay ahead their great journeys under Qin’s guidance.” His gaze drifted toward a battered wooden donation bucket in the corner, its faded Mandarin inscription nearly erased by time. He chuckled softly, almost wistfully. “When I took up the mantle of temple keeper, their visits dwindled. The last I can remember was the magistrate of Grand Nanhu City more than twenty years ago. And even then, her pilgrimage felt more like… an inspection than devotion.”

…Was this place some kind of ancient tourist trap? Troy let the thought pass. “Seems risky, having so many powerful beings gather in one place.”

“Strange as they may seem to you, foreigner, their presence is as old as the bones of the earth itself,” Li replied. “Yes, it can be dangerous, but Qin’s blessing lingers here still. A friend to mortals, a thorn to the powers above. That rebellious spirit drew many cultivators who sought to follow her path. A true ‘hidden master’ of legend.”

For a moment, Li’s smile faltered. “Perhaps that says more of the age we live in… or about the lords themselves.” Then his grin returned. “Still, our village welcomes all manner of wanderers, mortal or not. Most who set foot here pursued meaning.”

Troy smirked. “Not sure that applies to me. I already know what I want.”

“Oh? And what is your pursuit, stranger?”

“Once I get home and finish my service, I’m going to be a simple little farmer in bumfuck nowhere. Then it’s smooth sailing from there.”

The horseman gave his whinny-like laugh. “Bumfuck! What a peculiar incantation! Bum… fuck. It rolls off the tongue like a drunkard’s chant. How vulgar, yet strangely soulful. A word of foreign lands indeed! I shall remember it. Qin would’ve loved such audacity.”

Troy tilted his head in confusion, but Li continued. “A simple wish, yet no less a desire. There is no shame in desiring peace, though fate rarely grants it without a twist.”

“Are you saying I’m saying I’m lost? I mean… I am in the literal sense, but—”

“Not all who wander to our humble village are lost, Troy. I, for one, have nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“If I’m not lost, then what am I?”

Li tilted his head in exaggerated thought, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “A guide for others, perhaps?”

Troy couldn’t help but make a playful chuckle in his mind. Silly little Troy Rechlin? A guide? I’ve been in service for 7 years, and I’m still a 2nd lieutenant. I am a fixer, not a leader in any sane world. 

“I can see your doubt.” The old man said while taking a sip of his drink. “Call it what you will. Fate is fond of irony. Sometimes even a fool becomes a turning stone in another’s destiny.”

Hard to be mad at that when I already called myself a moron, Troy realized.

“Still, even sitting here with you, I can see many intriguing things to come from you, Troy Rechlin of… Kan-sa-si. Many intriguing things indeed… your tale will not be a quiet one.”

Troy’s eyelid twitched. He almost rolled his eyes but yhat would’ve been rude. He just wanted to be a nobody. No need for greatness, no need to get involved with great things. Just peace and someone to love, if he was lucky.

That was enough philosophical banter about being lost. Now he needed more intel, and if it required him to parley with the old man more, he would.

“So…Magistrate… I’ve heard that title a few times now. What can you tell me about her?”

“Oh, which one?”

“Which…one?”

“Indeed, there are tw—”

“Li!” A familiar voice echoed from outside. “Liiii!”

Troy hovered his hand over his sidearm.

The sound of panicked footsteps pounded against the dirt outside the shack. With a jarring crash, the door burst open, slamming against the inside wall, revealing the bunny man who seemed surprisingly unwinded after making such a mad dash.

“Cultivators!” Loa shouted with panic.

“Ah… Some lords are finally coming to pay a visit.” Li’s face remained neutral while his words dripped sarcasm. “But judging by your expression, young Loa, they are not here to contribute.”

Both Loa and Troy stared at the old man as he calmly finished his tea, waiting for instructions on what to do. “I’m assuming this is because of you, traveler.”

Troy bit his lip, knowing that it was true. “I’ll…what will they—”

“Worry not, my strange traveler. You stay here. I shall see to our guests myself.” The old man sat up and walked out with Loa, closing the door behind him. “Loa, remain. Watch over our visitor while I greet our… unforeseen company.”

“Be careful, old man.” Loa muttered, resting his back against the shack door while Li made his way to the village entrance.

It was unfortunate for the rabbit-man that Troy had no intention of staying put. The moment Li and Loa stepped outside, Troy slipped to the side window, easing it open with deliberate care. The cool air spilled in, carrying faint shouts and the metallic jingle of distant wind chimes. He slipped through and softly dropped into a dry stone channel, the trench walls cracked and furred with moss.

He drew Lil Slugger, his trusty twelve-round .45 magnum, from its maglock holster. His steps were swift and soundless, boots whispering across stone.

He needed to know what waited ahead, whether the old man was handing him over to the so-called Lords, or if he was about to have a second, less pleasant meeting with the “heroes” of this world. Either way, he wasn’t about to stand idle.

Troy had no intention of letting this village burn just because he happened to be breathing in it.

***

Huiling Zhang - Village of the Lost Guard

Of all the problems to bring, why cultivators? Why would this…Troy be so valuable that monsters like them would come hunting through these forgotten hills?

Didn't matter. 

For now. He was the village guardian. He will protect his people with his life. 

It was the least he owed for taking him and his daughter in. With the villagers now safe as they could in their homes, he sat on the stone bench, sliding a whetstone over his trusted blade with slow, deliberate strokes. 

The metal sang a haunting tune with each pass. Sparks danced briefly with every stroke, tiny, fleeting embers that flickered out before reaching the ground. It was always sharp, as he dared never let it dull, but the simple rhythm of sharpening steadied his thoughts and quieted his nerves.

“Ah, Zhang! Ready to give our guests your usual warm welcome as always, I see.”

Zhang glanced up with his amber eyes to see the old white-haired horseman he had grown so fond of and so loathed over the years.

“Always, Chief Li.” He muttered, running the whetstone over the blade one more time.

“Oh, you worry too much, my friend. Perhaps they are but wandering patrons seeking refuge!”

Zhang glanced up, yellow eyes peering through his bangs of hair with a look of immense doubt.

“It wouldn't be me if I didn't always hope for the best.”

“No. No, you would not be.”

Li extended his hand, and Zhang clasped it firmly, rising from the bench. Their eyes met in a wordless exchange. Li was certain Zhang would follow him into whatever came next, and Zhang silently prayed the old fool wouldn’t drag them all into an early grave.

Both looked towards the stone entrance archway that led to the misty mountains.

“You feel it too, don’t you?”

“Malice, anger, contempt?” The horsekin smirked, stroking his beard. “Seems our traveler earned a Lord’s ire.”

Zhang just looked onward. If the human provoked a cultivator and lived this long, then he deserved some respect from the middle-aged snakeskin warrior. Not enough to surrender the village for his sake, but enough to merit the man’s tenacity.

“Just follow my lead.” The old man tapped Zhang's breastplate with the back of his palm before taking the lead.

“By your lead,” Zhang spoke, sheathing his blade yet ensuring there was always one hand on the hilt.

The two marched forward, mist swirling at their feet as they made their way to the entrance plaza. They moved in silence, yet perfectly in step, bound by unspoken understanding

Like phantoms borne on the wind, they appeared as if conjured from the mountain fog itself. Two dogkin maidens stood before them. One was black-furred and draped in crimson, her gaze sharp enough to chill the blood. The other, white-furred and clad in blue, wore a smile unnervingly serene that unsettled the soul, enough to make even seasoned warriors hesitate. Both bore the unmistakable sigil of their order, the Amberwood Sect.

He had heard the tales. Power-hungry. Merciless. Such traits were common among the ambitious, yet the Amberwood of Grand Nanhu City thrived on dominance, crushing anyone who stood in its way.

His eyes swept over them, studying every detail. Throwing knives hung at their sides. Their claws gleamed like polished steel. Muscles shifted beneath their robes, trained for precision and built for killing.

There were flaws in their composure, though. The crimson woman's bandaged leg was soaked with blood, while the one in blue had burn scars along her right arm.

Legends say Amberwood’s training mandated mastery over fire. That was the price of initiation. Based on that observation, he assumed the burns were a result of rigorous training. Then Zhang’s eyes caught the frayed fabric at the base of her shoulder, twisted, torn, and burned, indicating a fresh wound, hurriedly treated.

Someone wounded them, with fire no less.

He had a sneaking suspicion about who. If not for the likelihood they may all be paying the price for it, he might have smirked.

“Greetings!” Li called out, marching forward as if fear were a thing for other men. Perhaps he was reliving some glory from his youth, or perhaps the old fool simply hid his nerves well. 

“Welcome to our humble little village, my lords!” He bowed low, and Zhang followed out of formality, though the gesture tasted like ash. “I am the chief, Li M—”

“Save your breath, subject.” The bloodred dressed cut in. “We seek a…” She thought for moment, as if uncertain how to describe the object they seeked, finally releasing the world. “mortal.” 

Neither she nor her fellow pale-colored companion moved. The pair stood motionless like divine effigies carved from heaven’s stone, eyes distant, posture unmoving, as if the two mortals before them were scarcely worth acknowledgment. 

Zhang knew better though. He seen these poses before, and they weren’t made by those of experience but those who needed to exert their power.

Li turned to the blue dressed cultivator, giving her a bow both for unearned respect and for any reaction. “A mortal, your Majesty?”

A small faint lift of the white one’s chin at the honorific, with the stiff posing and the uncertianty crimson-clad one spoke with a stiff rehearsal…

Novices. Fresh initiates, undoubtedly recruited and sent to the grinder during Grand Nanhu City’s rumored cultivator shortage. That made them dangerous. Hungry for prestige, eager to prove themselves, and quick to punish any slight. But it also meant there was the smallest grain of a chance to turn this in their favor.

“You’ll find no shortage of those here. Many would gladly serve should you wish it.”

“Indeed, they would be, but we do not seek simple peasants…” Her glance moved to Zhang. “Or washed-up guard.”

Zhang neither flinched nor responded. He already hated them. 

Good. Hatred kept the blade sharp.

“An… unusual mortal may have passed through here, one easy to identify should you have seen him” the black-furred one said, bitterness sharpening her tone. 

“Ah, I see!” Li said, smiling widely. “Perhaps we could talk over some tea? I can even offer fresh meat! Cultivators such as yourselves spend much strength upon the road, and it seems the journey has not been kind.”

Ah, ok. We are lying to the lords and shielding the stranger. The snakekin maintained his gaze but flexed his fingers. Wonderful. I hope you know what you are doing, you old fool.

The white-furred one’s eye gave a brief twitch before her grin widened, pleased by the mention of food but clearly bristling at the reminder of her battered state. The black-furred one, though, quickly spoke out first. “Did you or did you not see him?!” The red-dressed lord snarled, patience growing thin.

The old man's expression faltered but only for a moment. “I’m afraid I was tending to the meditation grounds all day, my lords. I have seen no one–”

The air thickened, pressing down like a storm before the lightning strike.

The taste of death clung to the back of Zhang's throat, but it was Li Ming who bore the brunt of it. His knees buckled as if forced to bear the weight of an anvil.

There it was. Why no ordinary mortal ever could stand against cultivators. Their dreaded Killing Intent. A curse both effortless and cruel, the simplest way to crush those beneath them. The taste of death clung to the back of Zhang's throat, but it was Li Ming who bore the brunt of it. His knees buckled.

“I grow tired of your stalling, old man.” With those deadly words, Li Ming crumpled, his body folding in on itself. Zhang moved with purpose, catching him and easing him to the ground. The old man was still breathing but already deep in the grip of the darkness they had forced upon him.

“What about you?” The black-furred cultivator snarled, turning her attention towards the guard. “Have you seen who we seek?”

Zhang rose, took a stance, and gripped the sheathed blade with his hand. “I don’t believe I have, my lord. We are all strangers to each other in this village.”

Once again, the sense of dread and death washes over him, like he was staring at death in the face. And yet he stared right back, unflinching, unmoved, and defiant towards them.

“Didn’t think I would have to deal with this again today…” The cultivator mumbled in frustration. “Sister, aid me.”

The white-furred one let out a sadistic chuckle, stepping forward alongside her fellow sect member.

Zhang could feel it now. The pressure of death, the inevitable end to his short life, was weighing heavily on him… And yet he still stood, his hand still on his blade. His face contorted in pain, but he refused to bend.

Cultivators were not new to him. He’s dealt with them before. He knew the secret to overpowering their curse. For some, it was a blessing at birth to be more immune to the curse. For others, the sheer power of will. However, there was a third method. Many would never even dare to think of doing anything against such holy beings.

He wanted to kill them more than they wanted to kill him.

Death’s claw pricked his heart like a thousand needles, but his blood burned with furious rebellion. His pupils thinned into a line, sharp as a knife’s edge.

Death would follow—of that, there was no doubt. Yet of the two, the black one deserved the blade most. Arrogance begged to be cut down, and her name, forever stained as a cultivator slain by mortal hands, would be the perfect mark of poetic justice.

It wouldn’t be his first time killing a lord.

***

Troy Rechlin - 2nd Lieutenant of the Peacekeeper Union Corp

Oh good, it’s bitch one and bitch two again…

Mei and Liu if his transcripts were correct from the first contact with them.

His gaze lingered on Liu, the blue-dressed one. Somehow, she had recovered from her injuries. Last time he saw her, she had been a husk of burned skin, rivers of tears streaking her face. Now, aside from the scarring on her catching arm and a singed dress, she looked just as terrifying as when they had first made contact. Regret coiled in his chest; he should have taken that shot.

I’m really starting to hate these “cultivators". He concluded with grim thought, forcing his attention back to the conversation.

Pressing himself against the cool stone wall, Troy stayed in the shadows, observing. From his vantage point, it was clear this was no ordinary conversation. It was an interrogation. Quiet and suffocating, as if the etheral beings would cut the old man down if he said the wrong words.

After his experince with them, they probably would.

Was the old man shielding him, or simply pretending to be the fool? He couldn't really tell.

Li invited them to the meditation plaza, yet never once hinted that Troy might be there. Was it a ploy? A calculated move, perhaps? From their brief talk earlier, Troy suspected the old man was the type to gamble with words to draw out a person’s true nature.

And then, with no warning, Li crumpled with Zhang catching him just before he hit the earth.

For a second, Troy’s mind went blank*. Did… did the old man just drop dead from a glance?*

Out of instinct, he raised Lil Slugger. If Li was selling him out, fine, he could live with it. He was the stranger to them and this world and should expect anything less. But what he just witnessed showed this situation was far worse.

The two women turned their gaze on Zhang, eyes narrowing with the same predatory intent they’d used on fallen chief. Yet the man did not budge. He looked pained, but something else was bubbling under the surface. Like he was exerting his own curse onto them. His stoic face was calm, but Troy could sense rage emanating from the snakekin.

THUD

A muffled sound echoed from within the house Troy hid behind. A quick glance through the window revealed a poor horsekin woman sprawled on the ground, fallen just like Li. Whatever wicked power these witches wielded, it clearly had an area of effect.

Looking through the opposite window, Troy saw the standoff unchanged… except for one detail. The white-furred cultivator’s sadistic grin had faltered into something brittle, almost uncertain. The black-furred dogkin pressed harder, malice still present but edged with irritation.

It was clear from the cultivators’ reaction that whatever Zhang was doing wasn’t normal. If any of this could be described as normal to begin with.

THUD

A dull thud echoed in the distance; another body hitting the ground, this time from a house nearby. Whatever they were doing, it was spreading.

Troy eased up to the building’s edge, rough stone scraping his shoulder. He drew in a slow breath, thumb brushing the magnum’s grip. The big iron felt heavier than ever, knowing what he was about to do.

The damage to his arm was still apparent from the previous fight when he blocked Liu’s punch, twitching a bit as he prepared to fight. It was only going to get worse, especially with the stress of the upcoming fight. He should have worked on mending it when he first came to the village, but hindsight was always twenty-twenty.

He turned the corner, gun stretched out and taking aim—

—But a firm grip clamped down on his shoulder and yanked him backward, sending him sprawling onto the packed dirt.

Troy flashed his gun at the assailant, ready to fire, only to be surprised it was Loa. Suppose he took the command to watch over him very seriously.

The bunny’s face was twisted in panic, mouthing the words What are you doing?! with sharp, exaggerated gestures as if that alone would create volume.

Troy pushed himself upright, annoyance sharpening his movements. He pointed at his magnum, making a jerking movement as if he were firing it, then toward the cultivators.

This clearly went over the bunny man's head, right between his two white ears. What?!

Troy groaned under his breath. How do you explain a gun to someone who’s never even heard pf one, let alone seen in action? He pointed at the gun, made a finger pistol, pressed it to his temple, mouthed bang, pretended to be dead, then pointed to the cultivators.

Loa’s face went blank for a heartbeat, quickly crossed his arms in an X and shook his head frantically, long ears flopping. NO!

THUD THUD THUD

More bodies. Farther away this time…maybe a family, god forbid. 

At this rate, the whole village would fall before he could even act. Troy disregarded the thought, taking action as he lunged forward toward the witches once again, only for a hand to clamp down on his arm and yank him back yet again.

Rabbit boy was starting to piss him off.

The man surged forward again, only for Loa to grab a fistful of his uniform and hurl him back like a sack of potatos. For someone built like an understuffed scarecrow, Bun Bun was stronger than his lanky frame suggested.

Troy set his jaw, ready to plow through him if that’s what it took, until movement in the window caught their attention.

Two cold, merciless eyes met theirs.

They both hit the ground in sync, the word mouthed between them without sound.

SHIT!

“What is it, Liu?”

“Not sure… I sensed something.”

“Look into it. While I take care of this godly mistake.”

The cultivators split without a word. Mei stalked toward Zhang with a predator’s patience, figure looming over, her movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring the moment before the kill. Lui broke off in the other direction, towards the house.

Loa’s jaw clenched and worked furiously, his lips shaping silent curses. Damnit! Damnit! Damnit!

Troy yanked his telescopic stun baton from his belt, flicked it open, and hurled it underhand toward the rabbit. Loa caught it with ease, barely glancing up, his focus split between the advancing cultivator and the strange weapon in his hands.

Loa scrunched his nose in confusion, staring at it like it was a piece of alien technology, which in this case it was.

Troy mimed the motion of holding the baton, thumb pressing down on an imaginary button, arm swinging hard.

Still nothing.

Loa’s ears twitched once, then twice, face twisted in puzzlement.

Come on! Come on! Troy’s thoughts screamed inside his skull. He could already hear Lui’s heels crunching over the grit between them, each step more gradual than the last, deliberate, and taunting.

Then—click. 

The baton lit up, energizing the air with a faint electric hum. Loa’s eyes went wide, his long ears jerking upright. Finally, he understood.

Troy’s gaze flicked to his magnum. His hand was steady as he eased back the hammer of his magnum, slow and silent to muffle the mechanical click. Every beat mattered now; every fraction of a second stolen might mean the difference between getting a shot off or not at all.

From across the plaza, Mei’s voice cut through the tension, dripping with cruelty.

“You think you are special, mortal?”

Troy held up his hand with three fingers. Loa looked confused as Troy mouthed a countdown.

3

Loa's eyes widened as the first finger curled, shaking his head rapidly to object as Liu began to round the corner of the building, drawing a blade from her belt.

2

Mei’s eyes gleamed. Qi gathered around her like a crimson storm, the flagstones trembling beneath her feet as Zhang prepare to draw his blade. “No matter how strong you think you are,” she hissed, raising her claws like a blade, “everyone dies without a heart!”

1

“WAIT!”

The shout crashed into the moment like a hammer, halting both men mid-motion; they nearly toppled over each other as a fourth voice rose amidst the scene, urgent and desperate.

“My lords,” a woman’s voice cried out, “please wait!”

“Yu?” Loa whispered. Holding his long ears down, he craned his neck to peek through the window. 

Troy’s gaze followed his. The cultivators had turned toward the newcomer. If he wasn’t mistaken, the female disheveled snakekin rushing toward them shared Zhang’s features. Black pointed scales with simular amber eyes.

“YU! STAY BA—” Zhang’s shout was cut short. The cultivator, already poised to strike his heart, twisted gracefully, delivering a devastating sideswipe that hurled her opponent into the stone wall with bone-jarring force.

“You dare interrupt Amberwood Sect duty!” Mie snapped, her fury now directed at the new arrival.

“P-please, honored lords! No disrespect! Only tribute offered in exchange for these wretched lives!” The snakekin dropped to trembling knees, clutching a small cloth-wrapped bundle. Shallow breaths escaped her parted lips, amber eyes wide with terror. “This lowly creature presents a token found by chance in the woods! It’s worth unknown—but may it please your exalted selves—”

Before she could finish, a streak of white and blue flashed across the plaza, silencing the peasant girl with an escaped eep!

The called Liu moved with such lightning grace, faster than Troy’s eyes could follow. In one blink, and she was there. With a single, fluid motion, she tore the cloth from the girl’s hands, unraveling it layer by layer like a cabbage leaf, until a familiar, glossy black sphere gleamed in her grasp.

My scout ball! Troy’s mind raced. I completely forgot about it. It must’ve fallen nearby after losing power.

The white-furred cultivator narrowed her eyes and swept over the village like a predator sizing up prey. “What say you, sister?” She hissed, her voice low and dangerous.

“I’ve had enough of this backwater wilderness. The savages within it even more so,” came the black-furred maniac, her gaze flicking toward the fallen guard still sprawled on the ground. “Their insolence grates upon the ear.”

“As am I,” her sister replied, voice sharp with barely concealed annoyance, tossing the prize in the air like an oversized baseball. “Though…” Her attention shifted to Yu, who remained bowed low, trembling. “This village may warrant a collector’s visit. It hides…potential.”

The snakekin girl sank lower, her forehead pressing to the ground as much as physics would allow, her claws digging into the stone. Her trembling form stabbed Troy with a pang of guilt, knowing that he was the cause of brining this striff.

The two cultivators moved as one, gliding across the plaza with the poise of hunters who had already decided their prey was no longer a concern. They were almost graceful in their malice, leaving behind only the echoes of chaos and fear.

“By the mercy of the Amberwood Sect, we leave you in divine grace!” Their voices rang out, sharp and formal, yet carrying the undeniable weight of power.

Then they were gone, vanishing into the wind as if they had never been there. The plaza was left in stunned silence, punctuated by shallow breaths, the faint rustle of the dropped cloth, and the groaning of those who had been struck down.

Troy’s eyes never left the plaza, pistol steady, scanning for any sign of the cultivators’ return. Around him, chaos was slowly settling. Yu sprinted to her father, concern etched across her face, while Loa bounded to her side, worry written in every movement. Troy emerged from behind the house, pistol still raised towards the entrance of the village, and made his way toward Li.

“Father! Are you okay?” Yu’s voice trembled.

“I’m alright… just…winded.” Zhang groaned at his lie, cupping his ribs where the armor had dented. 

Troy tended to the old man, checking his pulse and confirming the smiling fool was still alive. He gave the horsekin a few gentle slaps to the cheek, neither dignified nor ceremonious. “Wake up, you old coot. You’re not ready to meet the other side of the dirt yet.”

Li stirred, rolling his head with a groan. “Oooo…I don’t miss that feeling,” he muttered, wincing. "I forgot how much it stings."

Outside, the village began to stir. Doorways creaked as cautious villagers peeked out, checking on their neighbors and reclaiming a semblance of normalcy.

Troy holstered his pistol and helped Li to his feet while Loa and Yu guided the injured guard towards them.

“This better be worth it, old man…” Zhang hissed before turning his attention to Troy, feeling the same heavy weight on him as when he first entered the village. “And you owe us.”

Troy lowered his gaze, the gravity of the moment settling on him. “Yeah… yeah, I do.”

Before another word could pass, Loa stomped forward, eyes ablazed, waving the baton up to Troy. “A stick?! You armed me with a stick?! Against cultivators?! What was I going to do? Beat them on the headAH—”

Loa tapped his head to prove how stupid the ‘stick’ was, unaware that his finger was on the safety button. In a snap, with a cackle of thunder, a hundred thousand volts cut him off mid-rant, his whole body going stiff and rigid.

With the others wounded or simply too stunned to react, the poor rabbitkin toppled forward like a felled statue, crashing to the dirt with a resounding thud.

…Perhaps it was a bit irresponsible for Troy to give the rabbit a weapon he wasn’t trained for.

“Loa!”

“Young one!”

“Damnit, Loa!”

That list of apologies was growing longer…

-------

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If you want to see what troy looks like you can see him here!

Same with Loa and Yu!

Author Notes:

This seems like a lovely world to live in wouldn't you say? If these were our saviors, I hate to meet the villians.

Thank you all for reading!

Due to a full time job, this series will release every 2 weeks (Every Friday) but if you join my patreon you can see up to 3 chapters in advance as well as fun small side stories and art concepts!

I do hope this grows in to another fun to read books online but for now, please give your thoughts! Thank you!

Credit to BulletBarrista for editorial assistance. Go check out his stuff if you enjoy this work
Special thanks to all the support and assistance getting this project going

Posted Nov 28, 2025, 1:14 PM UTC

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