Chapter 20: Endgame
The Vulture opened its beak in that moment and unleashed a wide, ear-splitting screech. Kage rolled out of the way, eardrums blasting despite the agony.
As he twisted clear, the Vulture shot past him with savage ferocity. It struck the ground and tore chunks free, debris exploding everywhere.
Kage panted, clutching his chest. He had predicted such a furious attack, but his lacking stamina nearly got him caught. He’d barely escaped.
Yet he had. And he would again if it meant survival. His determination stood as stalwart as the great Riverstone Monastery—Kawaiwa-dera. Kage lowered his stance, leaned forward, and exploded into motion.
With his inadequate body, the best he could manage was subpar, but he was a relentless bastard. He drove his legs faster than they were meant to move, his opening gambit calculated three steps ahead of the Vulture’s response.
Kage was a master observer—he knew how to devour books. Reading so voraciously had granted him insight into everything in this world. Human or otherwise.
The Wretch Impure met him with raw savagery, but Kage twisted away, hitting the ground hard. The Vulture surged forward and smashed its beak against the tree ahead. Kage had moved.
His sword found its mark at the Vulture’s neck. He didn’t hesitate, driving the dark blade deep into the flesh.
But his physical strength wasn’t enough to pull it out. Impure bodies were resilient, and hunting them demanded powerful muscles... which the body of a fifteen years old talentless bastard lacked.
The Vulture shrieked and spun with bone-crushing force. The vicious turn flung Kage—who stubbornly clung to his embedded sword—through the air.
Kage tumbled and slammed back-first into another tree before crumpling to the ground.
The Vulture whirled instantly, cawing with pure hatred and anguish. Then it stalked toward Kage, each footfall carving deep gouges in the earth.
Kage lay there, unable to rise. His entire back throbbed, his chest ached, exhaustion consumed him, and his body screamed in protest. Most critically, the sword was no longer in his grasp.
Before, he could exploit subtle advantages—moving ahead because the Vulture struggled to perceive him. The sword was meant to be his ace throughout this ordeal.
Now, with it lodged in the Vulture’s back, Kage faced a Wretch that could clearly see him. As a child who hadn’t even become an Aspirant. Damnation—he hadn’t begun learning Severance Art or properly entered Rank One of the Earth Realm.
Saying he was screwed was an understatement. Kage had cornered himself in the darkest possible way.
The surge of all the pain together knocked him as he tried to rest. Laying on the ground there, he passed out.
The Vulture loomed over him and raised its beak, eyes blazing with crude, murderous intent. Then it drove the weapon downward, straight at Kage.
He unleashed a guttural roar and rolled away instantly. The strike tore his arm open, blood streaming from the joint between elbow and forearm.
He lurched upright, face contorted with pain and anguish. He had blacked out momentarily, but the Vulture’s strike had jolted him awake.
Kage laughed in pain’s face, watching his hand drip crimson.
"Oh my, oh my... haven’t you heard not to beat the grass and alarm the snake?"
He chuckled but gripped his wounded hand, face strained. The expression lasted only a heartbeat. He composed himself and fixed the Impure with an icy stare.
’Now that my Qi essence is returning, I can try using it sparingly. No need to overextend... I just need to survive one more minute.’
Kage slowly released his injured right hand and extended his left, curling it into a fist. Then he smiled.
"Have you heard the saying: life and death are decreed by fate; wealth and rank are ordained by the heavens? No one dodges death, heavenly mistake. Today is your last day."
Kage drew a powerful breath, unleashing a surge of Death Qi from within his dantian. His eyes blazed with lethal, cold violet light as he stomped forward with a devastating straight blow, muttering:
"Line of Dismemberment."
A thin violet streak shot forward, creating concussive force that slammed into the advancing Vulture.
The impact sent the Vulture tumbling backward. It staggered, nearly toppling before catching itself. Kage, however, was in far worse shape than his target.
His hand was mangled from forcefully channeling Qi essence through such a powerful Severance Art.
Both arms were now useless, and the Impure was regaining its footing, fixing him with a dangerous glare. No doubt this creature understood the concept of an eye for an eye. Perhaps if it could speak, it would quote scripture at Kage too.
The Vulture unleashed another screech that shattered Kage’s eardrums, then charged forward with unsettling caws.
Kage stood motionless, both arms hanging limp—one bloody, the other deathly pale. He raised his chin as the creature bore down on him, making no move to defend himself.
In the distance, high in the mountains, someone stirred to move. A massive, hairy hand stopped him. The man with an enormous mane of hair looked at him and shook his head.
The would-be rescuer frowned.
"He’ll die if we don’t—"
He cut himself off mid-sentence, as he saw what had transpired.
Kage watched as the Vulture stopped abruptly. His cold expression cracked into a weary smile.
"I was wondering how long it would take to drain your entire life force."
He chuckled and dragged himself forward. The Vulture strained to move but was too weak. Kage nudged it with his foot, sending the massive bird crashing down.
Then he sat down beside the Vulture and rested against its abdomen.
"I’m sure in due time... you’ll die. That nosy proxy will announce it even in my sleep."
Kage was exhausted. He needed rest. And he took it.
Meanwhile, the two men perched in a crevice on a distant mountain—who had been watching since the very beginning—stared in disbelief.
The man who had moved to rescue Kage earlier looked at his companion with doubt clouding his eyes.
He hesitated.
"Lord Shen... I thought you said he was talentless?"
The Commander of the Red Sky also stared at the forest with bewildered shock.
"I mean... that’s what they say."
The young man gazed down into the forest, a cold white glow trapped in his eyes since they’d arrived.
His expression wavered between doubt and reluctance. He shook his head.
"Have you ever seen a fifteen-year-old who hasn’t even become an Aspirant kill a Wretch Impure?"
Lord Shen swallowed hard and forced a smile, a bead of sweat breaking across his brow.
"Never in my life."