She didn’t realize she’d just been standing in the door, looking at the milling mess, until the bartender stepped up beside her with a wry smile on his face. “New here? I know, I know, it gets a bit rowdy around these hours— not many other chances for fun around here. It’s a community thing, though— feel free to join in. All us mountaineers have to stick together.”

“I… don’t drink.” She paused, then almost a little softly, added onto the end— “I’m not a mountaineer, anyways.”

The bartender just smiled. “What makes a man a mountaineer? I’m sure there’s some isolationist village out there that’d laugh even us out of the Dragonspine for joining with Chongtian’s new growth— but I don’t hold to that. If you’re in the mountains, then you’re a mountaineer.” And what could she say to that, truly? It was all a matter of opinion. “I do understand the former, though— if you want somewhere quieter, try the corner back there.” He waved a hand at a far part of the building, secluded in a bit of shadow, illuminated only by the flickering light of the building’s hearth. “I’ll bring you out something.”

“Thanks.” She gave him a nod, but before she could ask anything further, he’d woven back over to the bar to serve the next group of patrons asking for more. Sighing— and trying not to choke on the… redolent… air of the tavern— she slunk over to the shadow, collapsing into a chair with a relieved sigh. It was surprisingly nice, despite it being the next best thing to a rough-hewn stool with a bit of backing, and she was reminded that she’d not sat down the entire day so far…

For a while, she just leaned back and closed her eyes. Tomorrow, she’d get everything sorted out, purchase the meat, and then get back to Avyr, maybe keep working on formations or…

“So you’re the other traveler? I heard the cheer.” She blinked her eyes open, rubbing at her face to banish the sudden lethargy that’d sunk into her without her realizing. “Tired?” A small man leaned on the table beside her— had always been there, if the empty plate and drained water bottle were anything to go on. “I understand entirely. It’s hard work, crossing the passes and high valleys. If you don’t want me to bother you, I won’t.”

“No,” she managed to yawn out. “That’s fine, I was just… caught up for a moment. Thanks for making sure I don’t fall asleep.”

The man chuckled softly. “You wouldn’t want to miss Kaige’s stew. Of all the villages around these parts, he’s one of the best.”

It took her a few seconds, but she did eventually realize the implication inherent. “You’re from around here?” Then, from before, what he’d said about being the other one— “are you the traveler?”

“In a sense.” He shrugged. “Not as much as you are, probably… let me guess, Chongtian? One of the Associations? Or no— you’re too city for a Chongtian association. Not to pull my punches too much, but they’re kind of bastards if they can get away with it… hm. Shancun? You have that city-ness to you.”

She shook her head. “East Saffron.”

That managed to get a bit of reaction out of the man, his eyes widening slightly in surprise and something that might have even been approaching respect. “Now that is a far ways away. And not the usual sort of people who’d dare to brave these high peaks of ours, either. If you’d forgive an old hunter his curiosity, what brought you all the way up here? Searching for anything in particular?”

Lily narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Why ask?”

The hunter met her gaze for a long second before snorting, bursting out into abortive chuckles. “Oh, I’d forgotten, almost… no, I don’t have any nefarious motives. A lot of the city-folk don’t really understand that— the Dragonspine Mountains are harsh enough without us all fighting each other like starving dogs over a scrap of meat.” There was a real passion in his speech, but still…

Well, it wasn’t like they were looking for anything in the first place. He couldn’t steal the mountain even if he tried. “We’re just here for the qi, really. Nothing in particular.”

“Advancing through Opening?” He frowned then, and she felt a sense press against her, polite but heavy in a way that couldn’t be entirely avoided. Spiritual sense— which meant the man sitting in front of her was a cultivator. “No, you’re mortal…”

“It’s for a friend.”

The man was silent for a moment, before a wide grin broke out across his face. “Well, then— you’ve already begun to understand. I suppose you’re not entirely helpless.” Before she could snipe back, the bartender set a steaming bowl of delicious distraction in front of her, and she was far too hungry to think of mere conversation while she scarfed it down. He’d been right— the stew was exemplary.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“You’re an interesting one.” She didn’t respond, too busy chowing down on the food in front of her. “It’s dangerous for a mortal up in these mountains, especially traveling alone. Especially now, of all times.”

She paused mid-bite, quickly swallowing the chunk of meat she’d been chewing on before turning the hunter’s way. “How so?”

“There’s something out in those mountains. What, I’m not entirely sure, but… there is a beast in the valleys near here, so be careful, whatever you’re doing. According to the reports they gave me, it’s Opening at the very least. Maybe even Foundation Establishment.”

“And you think you’ll be able to deal with that?”

The hunter just laughed. “I know I’ll be able to deal with that. Why else do you think they call me when they’ve got something nasty that needs taking care of?” He leaned back and patted— a gun. A really big gun. She wasn’t sure how she’d managed to miss it, propped up against the wall behind him— it looked almost more like a canon than the handheld shotgun the farmer had tried to hit them with. “I was wondering when you’d see ‘er— this is my greatest tool. Inherited her from the war, where these were standard outfit for the regulars believe it or not… it takes a lot of firepower to punch up cultivation levels.”

He pulled something off a bandolier, setting it on the table between them, and Lily couldn’t help but lean in. It was a cylinder, about two inches wide and more than twice that in length, glimmering metallic in the gentle lighting. A band of a pale, jadelike material wound around the bottom, inscribed with a formation that was so complex she could barely make heads or… she blinked, her mouth dropping open in faint surprise. “Is this a bullet? How do you fire this without turning your shoulder into so much pulp and shattered bone?”

He chuckled. “It usually takes people who haven’t seen them before a little while longer to figure it out but— yes. It costs more to fire this weapon once than it does to buy some cars.” And that was a weapon for infantry, given to everyone who joined the army… it was another stark reminder of how immense the wealth disparity between the upper echelons of the cultivation world and mere mortals were. If the sects could arm armies with weapons like these… “there’s different types of ammunition, too— really, it depends on what you’re going up against. If you’ve got a bunch of wards, then you’re going to want a wardbreaker ammunition of sorts.”

“How does it work?”

“The wardbreaker ammunition, or the gun in general?”

She shrugged. “Both?”

He laughed. “I like the curiosity, though I’m not actually too well versed in the exact mechanisms of either. Lots of formations, that’s for sure… all the bullets have formation-inscribed spirit stone, some of which is used in the bullet, most of which is used in the shell itself. The wardbreaker bullets… as far as I understand, they have something to do with ward polarity? Switching between—”

“Different qi types, to stress the qi flowing between the runes. That’s actually pretty smart.”

“Yeah, that.” He waved a hand— then paused, frowning. “That was pretty smart. What’s someone like you doing all the way out here? Shouldn’t you be back in East Saffron getting some sort of cushy engineering job with runic knowledge like that, at your age?”

She scowled. “I’m not going to be an engineer. I’m going to be a cultivator.”

For a long time, the hunter was silent, just sitting there in the flickering firelight, his face shadowed. “Maybe.” She almost snapped back at him for that, but held herself back. No need to start fights, especially not against someone with a comically large gun right there. “Cultivation… it’s a goal, that’s for sure. To ascend through the realms and become a true Immortal, leaving behind this cruel realm of ours… but, for what reason?”

“You wouldn’t—” except, he’d fought in the war, hadn’t he? He would understand. Maybe even better than she did. “I have to. I’ve put in too much effort to stop now.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s some sort of fallacy.”

“Are you mocking me?”

He laughed. “Perish the thought! No—” and his face sank once more into seriousness, cool and sharp and the exact sort of knowing that couldn’t but set her ill at ease— “I would never. To seek the skies… to seek beyond ourselves, to refine our souls to what numinous realms above lay in expectant wait… there is something beautiful to that. I’m not some mortal fundamentalist, decrying cultivation as the source of all evil in the world— we’d never possibly have escaped the dark ages without the power of cultivation, and for all their society can sometimes seem so very bizarrely ungrounded compared to ours, I have seen the elders of the Sects bloody their hands and die for us. No… cultivation is a noble pursuit.” He locked his gaze with her, then, for a moment so burningly, perfectly intense— “but in defying the heavens, you must know why?”

Unsettled, Lily could only nod and turn back to her cooling food, unable to find within herself the wherewithal to say anything back to the hunter— unable to, disquieted as she was, find if she had a reason. A satisfying reason, at least.

A reason beyond that strange, ugly and bloated and unhewn impulse, revenge.

Later that night, holed up in the room she’d provided, comfortable as it was… she did not sleep well.