The wind changed halfway up the last hill and brought the smell of blood with it.

  Not a little blood. Yan Qiu had skinned rabbits and gutted spirit beasts and cleaned wounds, and this was different from all of that. It was heavy and thick and it sat in the back of his throat when he breathed. Zhou Tai slowed down. Chen Bao’s hand went to his knife without him seeming to think about it.

  Liang Feng raised a fist and the group stopped at the top of the ridge.

  The village was below them in a shallow basin between two hills. Yan Qiu could see the low houses and the dirt paths and the fields running out to the tree line. A red haze hung over everything, clinging to the rooftops and pooling in the streets and drifting between the buildings in slow curls. Howling came from inside the village, low and guttural, rising and falling. Underneath it he could hear people screaming.

  There were bodies in the streets. He could see them from up here, dark shapes on the ground that were not moving.

  His hands started shaking. He looked down at them and watched them tremble against his sides and could not make them stop. His chest was tight and his breathing had gone shallow.

  And then it passed. His pulse steadied and his focus sharpened and his hands went still, and he felt the same warmth he had felt when he killed the cub in the eastern woods. It spread through his chest and settled behind his ribs and his body relaxed into it like it was the most natural thing in the world.

  His stomach turned.

  Why does this feel good?

  Liang Feng turned to the group. His face had not changed.

  “Formation,” he said. “Yan Qiu, left flank. Yingyue, right. Zhou Tai and Chen Bao, you are with me through the center. We will clear what we find and regroup at the village square. If you run into anything you cannot handle alone, fall back and signal.”

  They moved down the hill.

  The mist was thicker at ground level. It clung to Yan Qiu’s skin and left a faint residue on his arms that smelled like iron. He could feel qi in it, faint and scattered, and it made the hair on his arms stand up. Whatever was producing this mist was pulling spiritual energy from the land and corrupting it.

  He went left through a narrow lane between two houses. The walls were scored with deep claw marks and one of the doors had been torn off its hinges. Inside the house he could see overturned furniture and dark stains on the floor.

  A shape moved at the end of the lane.

  It was about the size of a large dog, low to the ground with matted grey fur and a ridge of bony growths along its spine. Its eyes were dull and clouded and its mouth hung open, showing teeth that were too long for its jaw. It looked like a wild animal that had been twisted by qi into something meaner and less stable. He had seen beasts like this before. The tusked ones in the hunting grounds near the sect had the same look about them.

  It saw him and charged.

  Yan Qiu sidestepped and drew his sword in one motion. The beast lunged past him and he brought the blade down across the back of its neck. It hit the ground and slid into the wall of the nearest house and did not get up.

  Two more came from around the corner. He killed them both quickly, one with a thrust through the skull and the other with a Gale Palm that drove it into a stone wall hard enough to break its spine. His qi was steady and his hands were not shaking anymore. The fighting had settled him.

  He cleared three more lanes and found the village square. Liang Feng was already there with Zhou Tai and Chen Bao. Zhou Tai had blood on his spear and Chen Bao was wiping his knife on his sleeve. Shu Yingyue came in from the right a moment later with her thin swords drawn and clean.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Perimeter is clear on the right,” she said. “Six. All small.”

  “Five on the left,” Yan Qiu said. “Nothing bigger than a dog.”

  “Eight in the center,” Zhou Tai said. “Two of them were a bit larger, maybe waist height. Went down easy enough.”

  Liang Feng nodded. “The mist is thicker toward the north end of the village. Whatever is producing it is that way.” He looked around the square. “Find the survivors first. We need to know what happened.”

  They found them in a cellar beneath one of the larger houses near the square. A dozen villagers were pressed against the back wall with their arms around each other. An old woman near the front flinched when the cellar door opened and the light came in.

  “We are from Barched Wind Sect,” Liang Feng said. He crouched at the entrance and kept his voice low. “We are here to help.”

  The old woman stared at him. Her hands were shaking and her eyes were wide and glassy.

  A man behind her tried to speak instead. He was younger, with a bandage wrapped around his head that was soaked through with blood.

  “They came at night,” he said. His voice cracked on every other word. “We did not hear them until they were already inside the village. They were everywhere. They killed anyone who was outside.” He stopped and swallowed. “We ran and hid and they just kept coming.”

  “How many?” Liang Feng asked.

  “I do not know. Dozens. Maybe more.” The man’s eyes went unfocused. “They killed everyone. We are not going to survive this.”

  “You are going to be fine,” Liang Feng said. “We have cleared the beasts in the village. You are safe for now.”

  The man shook his head slowly.

  “There is a big one,” the old woman said. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “The others follow it. It is bigger than a horse and its eyes are red. It comes and goes. When it comes, the mist gets worse.”

  Liang Feng looked at Shu Yingyue. She looked back at him and her jaw tightened.

  “Stay here,” Liang Feng told the villagers. “Do not come out until we tell you it is safe.”

  They climbed out of the cellar and gathered in the square. Liang Feng was about to speak when a scream cut through the air from the north end of the village. It was high and raw and it cut off suddenly with a wet tearing sound that carried across the rooftops.

  They ran.

  The north end of the village opened into a wide yard where the grain stores stood. The mist was so thick here that Yan Qiu could barely see ten paces ahead, and the qi in the air pressed against his skin.

  The beast was in the middle of the yard.

  It was massive. Taller than a horse and twice as wide, with a body like a boar that had been stretched and thickened until the proportions were wrong. Its hide was dark and ridged with bony plates and its legs were thick as tree trunks. A villager’s body hung from its jaws, limp and broken, and blood ran down its chin and pooled on the ground beneath it.

  Its eyes were red. It was not dull clouded red of the smaller beasts. It was more bright and burning, cutting through the mist.

  It dropped the body and turned to face them.

  “Same formation,” Liang Feng said. His voice was tight. “Zhou Tai and Chen Bao, hold the front. Yingyue, right flank. Yan Qiu, left. I will find an opening.”

  They spread out. Zhou Tai planted his feet and leveled his spear. Chen Bao moved to his side with his knife low. Shu Yingyue circled right with both swords drawn. Yan Qiu went left, keeping low and watching the beast’s movements.

  It charged Zhou Tai.

  The ground shook under its weight. Zhou Tai braced and thrust his spear at its face. The point struck one of the bony plates on its skull and skidded off with a sound like metal on stone. The impact drove Zhou Tai back three steps and he grunted through his teeth.

  Chen Bao came in from the side and slashed at its flank. His knife cut through the hide but not deep, and the beast swung its massive head sideways and caught him with the flat of its skull. Chen Bao went airborne and hit the wall of the grain store hard enough to crack the wood. He slid to the ground and stayed there for a moment before pushing himself up on one arm.

  Shu Yingyue was already moving. She came in fast from the right and struck at the beast’s hind legs with both swords, two quick cuts that drew blood and made it stumble. It spun toward her and she leaped back, barely clearing the sweep of its tusks.

  Yan Qiu came in from the left. He aimed for the gap between the bony plates on its ribs and drove his sword in with everything he had. The blade sank in a few inches and the beast roared. The sound was so loud and deep that it rattled his teeth. It twisted its body and the motion ripped the sword out of his hands.

  He rolled clear and came up empty-handed. His sword was still stuck in the beast’s side, jutting out between the plates.

  “Its qi is at least late Channel Refining,” Liang Feng said. He had moved in while the beast was distracted and landed a palm strike on its neck that left a visible dent in the hide. The beast barely flinched. “Maybe higher.”

  The beast turned in a slow circle, bleeding from its side and its hind legs. Its red eyes swept across all of them. The mist around it thickened and pulsed, and Yan Qiu could feel the qi in the air growing heavier.

  It was not done. And neither were they.

  “Damn,” Liang Feng said. “This thing is tough.”