“My men. Which you uselessly got killed,” the short man said. “You did well, guessing he’d go ahead.”
“Thank you, honored leader Ji Ang,” the ex-ambusher said with a relieved smile.
The smile stayed on his face even when the infamous bandit spun around, his sword unsheathing before it slashed across the ex-ambusher’s neck. The smile stayed until frantically firing nerves and reality hit and the ex-ambusher staggered backward, clutching at his bleeding neck. The bandit’s mouth moved, as if trying to ask why, but no words came from his destroyed throat.
“But you lost my men. After I told you not to take them,” Ji Ang said. “Failure after disobeying orders is not acceptable.”
Wu Ying watched Ji Ang’s ruthless action silently, flicking his gaze around the group that surrounded him. There were easily over twenty bandits, more than enough to deal with a cultivator like him. They had come out of the woods on the trail as he turned a corner, surrounding him before he could escape. Now, all Wu Ying could do was wait with his hand on his sword, hope to take as many as possible if he was forced to fight, and search for a way out.
“Well, now, what do we do now?” Ji Ang walked forward, his eyes raking over Wu Ying’s body. “You’re not bad. Well built. Decent cultivation.” Wu Ying shifted uncomfortably, waiting. Ji Ang’s smile grew wider. “Ah! I have it. I have a newly opened position. Join me.”
Wu Ying’s jaw fell open slightly, the offer the last thing he had expected. A way out was mildly tempting. When he glanced at the former occupant of the position, what little temptation there was disappeared. Better to die now, honor intact, than at the whims of an insane, corpse-loving bandit. Even Wu Ying knew that the chance of him running away if he agreed to join was highly unlikely. More likely, they would watch him closely and give him a “test” soon after.
As Wu Ying’s jaw firmed and he settled into a stance, Ji Ang’s smile widened. “I thought so. You cultivators are all the same. Always concerned about your honor. Well then. Die.”
At the bandit’s command, his men surged into action. Bows which had been pointed at Wu Ying twanged, loosing a trio of arrows at the already moving cultivator. Since there were two bows pointed at him from the right and one on the left, Wu Ying went left. In the time Ji Ang had taken to show off, Wu Ying had pulled his bag off both his shoulders so that he could sling it in front of him as he rushed forward. Stuffed full of hard food, his clothing, bedroll, and his cooking implements, the bag managed to stop the single arrow coming from the left. Of the other two, one missed entirely while a second scored his back, tearing a line of blood.
No time to worry about that as Wu Ying threw the bag at the first bandit that came at him, side-stepping around him as he blocked a spear thrust from another with his forearm. That action brought another spike of pain as skin and cloth tore. Yet Wu Ying refused to slow down, knowing that he stood no chance if he did not break through. Block finished, he stabbed the sword at the bandit’s face as he ran pass him, barely scoring his opponent and not caring.
A dao came cutting down, fast and savage. Wu Ying spun out of the way, kicking once he’d finished. The attack threw his new opponent off balance enough that Wu Ying could grab him by his throat and shove him backward. His sword sliced at the bandit’s flailing hand, cutting off fingers and forcing the dao to drop aside even as Wu Ying rushed to the edge of the treeline. There might have been twenty bandits in all, but they had circled him at a distance, ensuring there were only a few in any one direction.
“Kill him!” Ji Ang snarled.
Acting on his command, spears lashed out. One caught the hapless bandit in the back, pulling the bandit out of Wu Ying’s grip. An axe cut into Wu Ying’s side while a dagger halberd cut into his leg. Focused on the archer ahead of him, Wu Ying ignored the injuries as he ran forward. Instinct made him cut upward, catching an arrow that he barely saw release and deflecting it high. Other bows twanged behind him, but a scream of pain from another bandit indicated how successful firing into the melee was for the bandits.
And then Wu Ying was in the trees, running past the archer who threw himself out of the way. Behind, free to shoot at Wu Ying now, the other archers launched more arrows.
“You won’t get away,” Ji Ang called, anger lacing his voice.
In the distance, Wu Ying heard the man running, the tramp of his feet surprisingly loud even amidst the clatter of weapons, harsh breathing, and grunts of the other bandits.
“I’ll try,” Wu Ying muttered as he ran, weaving between tree trunks. Thankfully, the same undergrowth that had hidden the bandits so well in their surprise of him proved a blessing for Wu Ying now as the archers fought to see the disappearing cultivator.
As the initial rush of adrenaline faded, Wu Ying felt the pain from his numerous injuries. He gritted his teeth as he ran, feeling his blood fall beside him. He couldn’t outrun them all, not injured. But having no other choice, Wu Ying kept going. Behind him, the howls and shouts from the bandits slowly changed from surprise to glee as they began to have fun.
“Come on, boy. Run.”
“Oooh, you’re bleeding. Bleeding real good.”
“You should have stood and fought. Better than to run and die tired.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll give you a head start.”
Wu Ying’s breathing grew ragged as he grew tired. The pain in his body expanded, encompassing his world even as the bandits behind closed in on him. A stumble sent him sprawling, desperately grasping for something to hold him up even as an arrow flashed overhead to slam into a tree. Pushing with all his might, Wu Ying stood again and staggered forward.
“Almost got him!”
Of course, whether it was true or just another taunting shot, Wu Ying didn’t know. Thunder drummed in Wu Ying’s ears. Thunder from the labored beating of his heart. Thunder from the footsteps coming for him. Thunder from the falls ahead.
Falls?
Wu Ying’s head came up as hope sprang in his chest. It was insane. It was cliché. How many heroes threw themselves from the falls to come back later, stronger than ever? But, perhaps… well. It was better than running aimlessly. Wu Ying found his feet picking up as he angled toward the waterfall. Perhaps knowing what he intended, the bandits sped up behind him.
Faster. Wu Ying ran faster, heading for the loudest parts of the falls. Faster. He could even hear the water running now.
A hand fell on his shoulder, twirling Wu Ying around. Wu Ying reacted automatically, using the spin to lash out with his jian. The light double-edged sword caught the bandit high on his head, tearing off skin and sending him sprawling backward. But not before he planted a knife in Wu Ying’s stomach.
Back.
Wu Ying gripped the dagger in his body with one hand, his sword in the other, and turned back around to run. The fleet-footed bandit staggered around, blocking his friends as he screamed. If not for Wu Ying’s higher cultivation and their earlier playing, he would have been caught already. But Wu Ying knew he was slowing, slowing.
The water was his only chance, so Wu Ying ran. Another ten feet, then suddenly, he was there. At the banks of the river. The river and the waterfall that crashed down into it, generating the thunder in his ears. With a groan, Wu Ying stumbled forward, realization hitting him. Of course the loudest part of the river was where the falls fell.
Hope disappeared as Wu Ying stared at the water. In the foaming white beneath the waterfall, directly beneath the thundering cascade of liquid, he thought he saw something. But another shout made him turn around to face his assailants. Tired, bleeding, and bereft of hope, Wu Ying raised his weapon. Better to die standing.