For a long, long time, Li Mu could not fully perform every move and stage of both the Zhenwu Boxing and Xiantian Skill disciplines. Every time he tried every time he failed, reaching no further than just a couple of moves or a brace of stages. Nothing he tried could allow him to fully cultivate both disciplines into viable faculties, resulting in only two sets of incomplete methods that he could barely rely on to work.
Yet, right here and right now, he finally succeeded.
No amount of words could describe the joy and exhilaration swelling inside Li Mu.
A day and a night breezed by swiftly.
Li Mu never left his spot. The whole time, he sat outside his bamboo hut, weltering in the thrill and satisfaction of being able to activate his Xiantian Skill in its full entirety.
The sun rose up in the morning, a broken red yolk, leaking upward over the eastern horizon.
Li Mu exhaled and inhale very gently and opened his eyes. Feeling contented and pleased, he could not help smiling even as he got up to his feet.
He had fully assimilated the Xiantian Skill and Zhenwu Boxing disciplines.
The Mana in the atmosphere here was still inadequate for a breakthrough of phenomenal proportions, but it was enough for Li Mu. One way or another, he felt different — not just the reconditioning that he just had whilst expelling the poison from his body the day before, but rather as if he had just been reborn.
From the memories of Li Zhiyuan, Li Mu learned that the various degrees to the mastery of warriorship were divided into twelve levels, known as “Classes”.
In his heydays, the pinnacle of Li Zhiyuan’s mastery reached Class VI. That was enough to make him one of the best ten young prodigies in the Northern Steppes, one of five main regions of Molderad. After his fall from grace, his levels plummeted down to somewhere between Classes II and III, and he never recovered from then on.
Unless circumstances were to be extraordinarily incredible, nothing could restore Li Zhiyuan back to his former greatness of Class VI within five to six years — even if Li Zhiyuan’s mentor were to discover a working antidote for his student’s condition.
Yet, not only did Li Mu manage to complete his masteries of both the Xiantian Skill and Zhenwu Boxing disciplines in one night, but he had also regained Li Zhiyuan’s former strength. In fact, he even managed to push himself further to achieve Class VIII — the eighth highest Class in the levels of warriorship in Molderad.
“Born anew, Li Zhiyuan, for you have returned,” Li Mu said to himself, taking upon himself the mantle of the old Li Zhiyuan.
He stood there by the bamboo woods, his presence and his appearance utterly changed.
Then he heard footsteps approaching.
Two little children came climbing up the steps chiseled into the slopes of the hill with baskets almost their height hanging over their shoulders, panting hard.
The one leading was a boy almost twelve or thirteen of age. With skin as fair as cream, he looked like he would grow up a dashing and handsome man himself. Behind him was a little girl who looked much younger, somewhere around the age of ten or so. Her skin was as fair as snow as well, although Li Mu could say that he has seen girls who looked very much better than the homely child she was, although she did really have large, beautiful and no less captivating eyes.
Inside the baskets the two children brought him freshly-made noodles, raw meat, and fruits, as well as other types of foodstuff. The weight of the basket’s contents was crushing down on the backs of the two little child that they had to rely on their bamboo staves to make it up here, both soaking in sweat and gasping for air profusely.
“I know these children.”
Li Mu mused quietly, recognizing them both from Li Zhiyuan’s memories.
The boy was called Fang Yuan and the girl Fang Mei, and they were both children of peasants who lived in the Fang Family Village that sat on the foot of the hill where the Creed of Divinity built its stronghold. They joined the Creed three years ago as humble servant acolytes. With hardly any remarkable talents to boast, they were hardly the favorites of the leadership of the Creed, making them the ideal choices to be chosen as servants to Li Zhiyuan when he moved to this little bamboo hut after his misfortune.
The two children have been kind to him and even though they understood full well that being assigned to take care of him was tantamount to ostracism, they uttered not a word of complaint. If anything, they had done all they could for him. Just yesterday, the two children had gone downhill to purchase him some groceries and visit their family before rushing back here now.
Fang Yuan and Fang Mei were just reaching the top of the flight of steps when they saw Li Mu standing outside his hut.
“You’ve woken up, sir!” Fang Mei cried timidly when she saw him, feeling concerned. “We’re so sorry, sir! We were attacked by wolves on our way back yesterday, so we had to take refuge in a cave until the wolves left in the morning… You must be hungry, sir. I’ll make breakfast right away.”
Fang Yuan the peasant girl appeared to be an expeditious person.
The slightly older Fang Yuan unpacked the contents of his basket as he stared at Li Mu curiously.
“Something’s different with Young Master Zhiyuan… He seems… changed.”
He felt puzzled by the strange and unfamiliar presence of Li Zhiyuan — or rather Li Mu — but he could not quite put his finger on how.
A table laden full of food was ready in no time.
“I’ve got you some Green Woody Draught, sir. It’s the homemade drink people in our village brew which I noticed you seem to enjoy the last time we brought you some,” said the cheery and voluble Fang Mei as she poured Li Zhiyuan a cup of the exotic beverage.
The emerald-green syrupy drink swirled in the cup, emitting a soft fruity fragrance.
Li Mu wasn’t a connoisseur of wine.
But he knew from Li Zhiyuan’s memories that he relied on alcohol to drown his sorrows and the habit slowly mutated into an addiction. The Fang Family Village was known in those parts for producing the fine concoction and Fang Mei has been bringing Li Zhimei some whenever she visited her village for supplies.
“Thank you, my dear,” Li Mu lifted the cup and emptied its contents down his throat.
Having tasted the beverages of the gods before, Li Mu could barely derive any enjoyment from drinking crude wine, but he nevertheless appreciated the craftsmanship and its unique sensory qualities.
He had only just arrived here just yesterday, yet the last twenty-four hours had been Li Mu’s most peaceful moment for what has been a long, long time and it was in such a time that he has undergone a massive change.
“Sir, you look… different,” Fang Yuan said all of a sudden, no longer able to keep his burgeoning curiosity bridled.
“Really? Heh. Come, my boy. Tell me how have I changed?” Li Mu motioned at the stool beside the bamboo-crafted table, saying, “Come, sit and eat with me.”
Fang Yuan might be older and more mature than Fang Mei, but he remained a child still. “You’re smiling, sir. This is the first time I’ve seen you smile in months.”
“That’s true, sir,” quipped Fang Mei, “You’ve begun smiling, sir. You look so nice when you smile.”
Li Mu giggled.
There was one other reason behind Li Zhiyuan’s fame and acclaim that earned him the moniker of the Cloudwater Crusader: his dashing good looks. That lean, hungry look of a hawk plus his fair and well-chiseled jaw-line made him one of the most beautiful men in the lands that his smart appearance eclipsed even Li Mu’s handsomeness before.
“You should smile more often, sir,” Fang Mei uttered with misty eyes, “You used to drink so much that you’re so scary when you’re drunk and smashing things around. You look so nice now.”
“Watch your tongue, Mei!” Fang Yuan cautioned her, afraid that they might infuriate Li Zhiyuan instead.
The Li Zhiyuan of old had turned into an ill-tempered and cantankerous drunkard that even the two children worked with bated breath whenever they served him.
Fang Mei responded to Fang Yuan’s sharp warning with a wordless “um” before she looked up again with her face alight with renewed inquisitiveness. “We saw some warriors who came by the village, sir. They were saying about how famous you were…”
“That’s enough talking, Mei. Go do the washing up. Perhaps you can get busy with your hands than you can with your mouth,” snapped Fang Yuan, leaping to his feet at once.
“What?” Li Mu chuckled, “Afraid that I might be offended?”
“Sir, I-I…” Fang Yuan tried feebly to explain.
“That’s all right,” Li Mu waved off Fang Yuan’s weak attempt to explain. “I know the days had been hard for you two little ones. I’ve been a terrible person and I’ve been unkind to you both. I apologize.”
“No, please, sir,” Fang Yuan could hardly believe what he was hearing, “You’ve taught us how to fight. You’ve never looked at us with scorn or contempt, nor have you treated us like fools…”
“Are you going to send us away, sir?!” Fang Mei turned suddenly anxious, “Please, don’t send us away! Please! I beg you!”
“I’m only just a cripple,” Li Mu said with an imperceptibly wry grin, “Staying here will only hamper what progress you should be making on your path to warriorship. Fourteen years old. If you’re past fourteen and you’ve not mastered the fundamentals of fighting and magic, you’ll never be able to go far.”
“Not that we barely have any talent to boot…” Fang Mei groaned.
“We’ve learned nothing from the rest of the Creed, sir,” Fang Yuan took over the argument, “No one’s been willing to teach us anything. You’re the only one who’s been kind enough to teach us how to wield the saber. We’ve thought about it, sir. We’re willing to stay here for as long as it takes and take care of you.”
Li Mu could barely deny that he felt touched by those words.
These are two good children. Gentle and kind.
Fang Yuan and Fang Mei reminded him of Qing Feng and Ming Yue right from the get-go. He could still remember the time he spent together with Qing Feng and Ming Yue when he was still in the Heavenly Lands years ago. That was one of his most unforgettable moments and he always view them both like his own brother and sister.
“Very well. The both of you shall come with me.”
Li Mu paused then he went on, “Only, I don’t think we’re gonna be here much longer.”
“Ah? Are we leaving, sir?” Fang Mei’s eyes grew as large as saucers, “Where to, sir?”
Fang Yuan too stared at Li Mu incredulously.
“We’ll wander around — see the lands, enjoy the sceneries, enjoy some freedom and Nature, maybe drink a little, eat something along the way… And of course, settle some old scores…”
It was his duty and his obligation for taking over Li Zhiyuan’s body.
That he should demand justice on his behalf.
Besides, seeing the world like a wandering warrior on a vigilante pilgrimage without being hampered and impeded by the yolk of responsibility seemed like a carefree way to express himself while honing his skills and powers. He was certain that it would give him more space to unleash and further explore his path of warriorship.
Fang Mei and Fang Yuan stared at him blankly as if they barely understood a word.
But his words and his fervor were infectious enough that they could resonate with his thrill and excitement.
“Young Master Zhiyuan has returned! He has returned!”
All of a sudden, the loud and heavy peals of a bell, albeit hurried and rapid, could be heard from a distance, echoing off the mountains, until the whole place was shaking with its ringing.
“Huh? That’s the Bell of Divine Invocation that sits in the Creed’s stronghold!”
Li Mu’s face stirred with mild astonishment.
If memory served, the Bell of Divine Invocation was rung only in the Creed of Divinity’s gravest peril. It was a call to arms for every acolyte, student, and Elders of the order to muster and defend the stronghold together until the last man.
An invasion must be at hand, Li Mu realized.
Fang Yuan and Fang Mei both were balking at the realization of what must be going on.
For more than four years, Fang Yuan and Fang Mei have served the order faithfully. Even while they failed to learn anything related to martial arts and magic, they nevertheless picked up whatever they needed to know about the order’s protocols and codes, including the rules in regards to this bell. Hearing it with their own eyes sent horror crawling up their faces.
“Let’s go. We need to have a look.”
With the Breeze Strider technique, Li Mu conjured winds and clouds using his Mana and whisked the two children up with him as he soared into the air, speeding straight for the summit where the Creed’s stronghold stood.
Molderad warriors of Class VII and beyond possessed the ability to fly short distances. Reaching Class VIII allowed Li Mu to carry people with him as well.
“AH!?” Fang Mei gasped with utter disbelief, “We’re flying?!”
Fang Yuan was so equally shocked that he was at a complete loss for words.
Winds whistled by their ears as mountains, hills, and fields whirred by underneath their feets while they glided in the air, cocooned in a translucent, greenish orb of light. “Has Master Zhiyuan become a god?!”
