Chapter 37: The Price of Survival

Chapter 37: Chapter 37: The Price of Survival

Ethan rested his head against the horse’s neck, his breathing slow and heavy. For several moments, he simply remained there. The exhaustion had settled deep into his body. Every breath seemed to remind him of the wounds beneath his clothes, while the lingering warmth from Blood Tempering gradually faded from his veins.

He had already done what needed to be done. The bodies had been dealt with. The obvious traces of the battle had been cleaned away as best as he could manage, and anything that might immediately point back to him had been concealed. There was nothing more to gain by remaining here.

Ethan slowly straightened himself. His hand tightened around the reins.

"Move."

The horse began walking.

Ethan did not urge it to hurry. He had no idea whether his body could tolerate a faster pace, and there was no reason to test it. The forest passed around him in silence. Only after he had put considerable distance between himself and the battlefield did Ethan begin searching for somewhere he could properly recover.

It took nearly an hour before he found what he wanted. Water. A narrow stream ran between several rocks, its surface reflecting the fading light. Ethan dismounted. He crouched beside the water and stared at his reflection. Blood had dried across his clothing. His face looked paler than usual. His eyes, however, remained calm. He lowered his hands into the stream. The cold water immediately brought him back to himself. Ethan washed his face first, then carefully cleaned the visible wounds. He worked slowly, resisting the instinct to hurry. Pain was information. Ignoring it would not make it disappear. When he finished, he tore strips from damaged clothing and used them to secure the worst of the injuries. It was crude. It would have to do. He then drank deeply.

Only after his immediate needs were handled did he begin thinking about the fight. Four men. One cultivator. Three ordinary fighters. Unknown organization. Mistaken identity. And a conversation that had ended with an attempt to silence him. Ethan’s gaze lowered. He had survived, but he had also learned something far more valuable than the money he might recover from them. Strength alone was not enough. Experience mattered. Position mattered. Information mattered. And preparation mattered most of all. He had been cautious. Yet he had still been cornered. That thought remained with him as he remounted.

He continued until he found a shallow rocky hollow some distance from the stream. It was concealed from the main path and offered enough protection for him to rest without exposing himself unnecessarily. Ethan inspected the area before entering. No footprints. No recent campfire. No signs of habitation. Only then did he settle down. His body demanded rest. But before sleeping, he remembered the manual. Cultivation. The thought had become difficult to ignore.

Ethan closed his eyes. He steadied his breathing. The first attempt had been slow and frustrating. He had barely managed to sense the faint current of Qi within his surroundings. Now, after everything that had happened, he tried again. He followed the method exactly. Breathe. Sense. Guide. Circulate. At first, nothing happened. Then came the familiar warmth. It was faint, almost insignificant, but Ethan recognized it immediately. Qi. He carefully guided it through his body. There was no dramatic transformation. No sudden surge of power. Instead, the warmth moved gradually through his limbs, leaving behind a subtle sense of heaviness and pressure. His breathing became steadier. The trembling in his muscles eased. The pain remained. But his exhaustion began to recede.

Ethan opened his eyes.

"So this is what the manual meant."

Body Tempering did not make injuries disappear. It made the body better at enduring them. That distinction mattered. He continued cultivating until his concentration began to weaken. Then he stopped. There was no point exhausting himself again. Ethan leaned back against the stone and closed his eyes. For the first time since the battle, he allowed himself to sleep.

Morning arrived quietly. Ethan woke before the sun had fully risen. His body still hurt. But he could move. That was enough. He checked his wounds, drank from the stream, and ate a small portion of his remaining food. Then he mounted the horse and continued toward the destination of his original investigation. The previous night’s incident had delayed him. It had not changed his objective. He would finish what he had been paid to do.

By midday, Ethan reached the area mentioned in the assignment. He spent several hours examining the surroundings. Tracks. Broken branches. Old markings. The movement of people through the area. Nothing was examined casually. He compared what he saw against the information he had been given and gradually pieced together the answer. By the time he left, Ethan was confident that he had enough information to report the matter accurately. The mission was complete.

But he still had one problem. The loot. He could not ride into the settlement carrying several unfamiliar weapons and belongings taken from people who had tried to kill him. That would be foolish. On the return journey, Ethan searched for a suitable landmark. Eventually, he found it. A large stone split almost perfectly down the middle stood beside an old tree whose roots had grown around its base. Memorable. Natural. Difficult to overlook.

Ethan dismounted. He examined the area carefully before retrieving the items he had carried away from the battlefield. He separated them. The money was simple enough. The weapons were another matter. He understood their basic purpose, but he did not know their history or whether any of them could be traced. The unfamiliar objects were even worse. He left those alone. Some things were more dangerous to possess than they were valuable.

Ethan wrapped the items he intended to keep temporarily and concealed them beneath the earth near the landmark. He memorized the location. Then he covered every obvious disturbance. When he finished, there was little left to suggest that anyone had been there. Ethan looked at the stone once more.

"Later."

He mounted his horse. Only then did he continue toward the settlement.

By late afternoon, Ethan passed through the settlement gates. He did not go directly to the employer. The moment he entered the market, he became aware of another problem. His clothes. They were clean enough to conceal the blood, but they were still damaged. The rough strips he had used to bind his wounds had done their job, yet the clothing itself carried the signs of a difficult journey. Anyone paying close attention could notice that something was wrong. That was unnecessary attention.

Ethan slowed his horse and searched the edge of the market until he found a small clothing stall. He purchased a simple change of clothes without bargaining for quality. Plain was better. A short while later, he found a secluded place where he could change without attracting attention. He carefully removed the damaged clothing, folded it away, and put on the new set.

The difference was immediate. Nothing about his appearance now suggested a recent fight. He still moved more carefully than usual, but the worst of the stiffness was hidden beneath the loose clothing. Ethan adjusted the fabric around his body, making sure none of the bindings were visible. He looked himself over once.

Better.

There was no reason to give the employer questions before he had even delivered the report. Ethan left the old clothes concealed with the rest of his unnecessary belongings and returned to the market. Only then did he proceed to find the employer.

Nobody stopped him. Nobody recognized him. That was exactly what he wanted. He went directly to the employer and delivered his findings. The man listened carefully before handing over the agreed reward. Ethan counted the coins privately. Enough to matter. Not enough to become careless. He accepted them without comment. His mission was finished.

The horse he had borrowed for the assignment was returned as well. Ethan watched the animal being led away. He would need another. One that belonged to him.

Before leaving the settlement, he made several purchases. Food. Water. Basic medicine. Travel supplies. And, most importantly, cultivation resources. Nothing extravagant. Nothing that would attract attention. Just enough to support him for the next stretch of travel. The experience of the previous night had changed his priorities. Money was no longer merely something that allowed him to eat and sleep. It was now a means of becoming stronger. A means of staying alive.

As evening approached, Ethan disappeared into the busier section of the settlement. He returned later with his appearance altered enough to avoid being easily recognized. The black market was exactly what he expected. Crowded. Discreet. Uninterested in questions that did not need to be asked. There, Ethan sold the weapons and ordinary valuables he had recovered. He kept nothing he could not explain. Nothing he could not identify. Nothing that might become a problem later. When he finished, the extra money was more useful than the objects themselves.

Ethan left. Once he was safely away from the area, he removed the disguise. Then he went to purchase his own horse. It was an ordinary animal. Healthy. Steady. Nothing remarkable. Perfect. Ethan had never wanted attention. He wanted distance. He wanted options. And he wanted enough time to become stronger.

By nightfall, he was outside the settlement again. This time, he did not look back. The road stretched ahead beneath the darkening sky. Behind him was a place where he had nearly died. Ahead was an unfamiliar world. Ethan tightened his grip on the reins. The battle had taught him that caution alone was not enough. He needed strength. He needed experience. And above all, he needed preparation.

The horse continued down the road. One settlement passed. Then another. Ethan kept moving. He had no intention of returning to the life he had left behind. Not yet. Perhaps not for a very long time.