Book One: Flames of War, Spirit of Essence

Chapter One: The Fierce Warrior

Hey! The blade tip protruded from the soldier’s back—a long saber, cleaving down from the shoulder, had gotten stuck at the ribs. But such a grave wound was still enough to cause death.

Having cut down the last of the rebel soldiers, William Carter collapsed to the ground together with the enemy’s corpse. The bloody and bitter battle had drained all his strength.

Lying on the ground, he panted for a long time before regaining a bit of energy. Knowing well how dangerous this place was and that he shouldn’t linger, William Carter still struggled to his feet by sheer force of will. He didn’t bother to waste effort pulling the saber from the dead man. Glancing at a few of the fallen rebels, he casually found a still-sharp battle blade on the battlefield and tucked it into his belt, not even bothering to look for a scabbard. Feeling his strength return somewhat, William Carter left the murderous battlefield without hesitation.

William Carter looked as wretched as could be. Not only was his Daoist robe torn to shreds, but his whole body was stained pitch-black with dried blood. The treasured sword he always carried had long since snapped in half; what he now gripped was a saber seized from who-knows-whom.

In the past three days, William Carter had run into rebel troops twice in a row. Relying on his superior martial arts and avoiding the main forces, William Carter barely escaped the battles after fierce fighting. In today’s bloody fight, William Carter had almost thought he was about to ascend to the immortal realm.

As dusk approached, a small village finally appeared faintly in the distance. William Carter raised his hand to wipe away sweat and spat out a mouthful of dried blood. He thought to himself, “Today, this Daoist finally doesn’t have to sleep in the wild—I can find a farmhouse to stay the night.”

In the early Yuan-Mongol era, Buddhism and Daoism were both revered. All the sects and schools flourished. But later, Daoism was suppressed by Tibetan Esoteric Buddhism and began to decline. Coupled with the Yuan-Mongol tyranny, famines broke out everywhere, and the starving masses rebelled. Even reclusive Daoists like William Carter were affected.

William Carter was originally a Daoist of Wuji Palace on Qingscreen Mountain, having entered the order from childhood. On ordinary days, besides cultivating his mind and character with his senior brothers, he helped nearby villagers exorcise ghosts and ward off evil, living a life of poverty. Though life in the mountains was austere, there was no need to worry about daily meals or the heat of summer and cold of winter.

But now, in these troubled times, war raged everywhere—even those who sought to avoid the world could not escape being drawn in. Some time ago, a band of rebel soldiers marched to the foot of Qingscreen Mountain, demanding money and food from the temple. Although William Carter’s Daoist temple was one of the grandest in the land, with many halls and splendid buildings, in chaotic times it was hard enough just to fill one’s belly—there was nothing extra for military provisions. When the rebels’ demands were not met, they turned savage and set fire to Wuji Palace. The Daoists, including William Carter, had no choice but to scatter and flee for their lives. Of the three or four hundred ascetic Daoists at Wuji Palace, only one or two hundred managed to escape—less than thirty percent.

William Carter didn’t know whether his senior brothers were safe. His martial arts and Daoist skills had always been among the best in his sect. When Qingscreen Mountain was set ablaze by the rebels, his master was killed while covering the others’ escape. William Carter was furious at these soldiers, and when he broke through the encirclement, he fought with even greater ferocity. In the past few days, he had slain countless rebel soldiers, and his actions carried a chilling aura of death. The calm and gentle air of an ascetic was long gone.

Gazing at the distant green mountains, he traveled for half a day.

By the time William Carter reached the entrance to the village, night had already fallen, and the Mao Star Lord had long since gone home to sleep. Fortunately, William Carter had practiced martial arts for years—his body was nimble, and his eyes sharp and clear. He could just barely make out the path, and found the nearest house, intending to ask for shelter. To avoid frightening the villagers, William Carter deliberately tidied his Daoist robe, casually tossed aside the saber in his hand, and patted the dust from his body. He knocked lightly on the courtyard gate and called out loudly, “Is the master of the house in? This humble Daoist has missed his lodging and wishes to stay for the night—I'll leave at dawn. I beg your kindness.”

William Carter knocked on the door countless times, raising his voice twice, but no one answered. Feeling puzzled, he carefully observed the small village.

The village had about a hundred households, nestled in a hollow at the foot of a small mountain. The surrounding scenery was quite beautiful, and the houses in the village were all neat and orderly. Scattered at the foot of the green hills, the place looked very elegant. Moreover, every door and courtyard was clean and tidy, clearly swept regularly—certainly not an abandoned village. Just as William Carter was about to try another house, he heard a creak—the door before him opened a crack.

A pair of cloudy eyes glanced out. Seeing only William Carter, a seventeen- or eighteen-year-old Daoist, the person inside opened the door. A kindly old man stepped out, and before William Carter could speak, he pulled him inside. The old man then quickly shut the door behind them and dropped the bolt, dragging William Carter into the house.

William Carter did not wish to resist the old man and let himself be pulled inside. The old man’s actions made William Carter suspicious, so as soon as he entered, he asked, “Elder, why did you not dare open the door earlier, but now are so anxious to welcome me in? Has something happened in the village?”