After holstering his pistol, Stirling glanced at the sky, the sunset painting the horizon.

  He had spent much of the day adjusting his firearm, but Stirling felt the effort was worth it.

  Retrieving his blade, he wrapped it in cloth and secured it across his back. Then he hurried back to the village. The flowing Aether inside him thickened, boosting his stamina, speed, and strength. In twenty minutes, Stirling reached the village. He scanned the closed shutters, aware of the danger in the dark, and hurriedly headed to old Larry's home.

  As Stirling entered and prepared to close the door, a twitch in his eyelid caught his attention. The strand of hair he had tied across the door crack was severed. Obviously, an invader had been there.

  Stirling's muscles tensed, like a frightened cat. He was not sure if the intruder had hidden yet and was waiting. Staying calm, Stirling pretended to be unaware. He turned slowly, walked to the table, and quietly took out the Quicksand Map.

  The small red cross marking Monk Green's position was still far away. Stirling felt a moment of relief. This monk was the only known threat in Rock Village. He stayed cautious, keeping his blade nearby. He searched each room and even looked behind the firewood in the kitchen.

  Finding nothing, he returned to the table, his expression grim. He took the enhanced lamp out of his pack, set it on the table, and lit it. He had brought this as a precaution, and now it turned out to be right.

  Green must have checked the place carefully. He left everything as it was, showing his skill in stealth and lock manipulation.

  After a moment of thought, Stirling rose and entered the next room to prepare.

  The post-rain night sky looked desolate. Mist, lit by the moonlight, created a faint haze.

  The wooden door of a nearby hut opened slowly. Monk Green stepped out, gazing up.

  He chuckled as he walked toward the next dwelling.

  Inside, Stirling felt a surge of alarm. He sat up, grabbed the Quicksand Map, and unfolded it under the moonlight. The red cross on the map was approaching. It must be Priest Green. Any hope Stirling had about Monk Green's intentions faded.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  The battle would happen tonight.

  In the silence, beneath the bright moon, Stirling's breathing grew heavy. Time seemed to slow down.

  Adrenaline surged through him, mixing instinctive fear and anticipation into a sharp awareness. Without hesitation, Stirling drew his blade and tiptoed into the main hall. He assessed his surroundings and hid in a shadowy corner.

  Just as he took cover, a muffled thud hit the wooden door. The weakened door splintered, sending shards flying.

  "Hello boy, where are you? Don't you welcome me?" A deep voice echoed as Monk Green entered, rapier in hand. "Stop hiding! Show yourself! Tell me how you survived this blood-soaked chamber?" With a sneer, Priest Green gestured, and a dark object rolled across the floor, reeking of blood.

  Stirling looked in shock at the object. It was a shrunken head, clearly belonging to the middle-aged man from across the street. Suddenly, buzzing sounds came from outside. Stirling's heart sank. The spectral hornets had arrived. He quickly took the enhanced lamp and struck it with his blade. Sparks flew, lighting up half the hall.

  Monk Green, in the doorway, raised his eyebrows in surprise. As he boasted, he noticed the lamp in Stirling's hand. His expression changed, and he demanded, "Where did you get this lamp?"

  "Ask your mom," Stirling replied, "Son. She gave me this gift last time I fucked her." He placed the lamp on the ground nearby, licking his lips quickly.

  "Wonderful!" Monk Green giggled in fury, then he pushed off the ground and lunged at Stirling like a python.

  Stirling narrowed his eyes and pulled a rope, making a large net descend from above, trapping Monk Green.

  "A petty trick!" Monk Green felt the net fall. He tilted his head slightly, sneering.

  He gripped his sword and casually swung it. The net shattered like paper.

  Monk Green felt an icy wind sweep past his ear. It sparked his instincts, warning him of danger. He swiftly swung his sword to block the impending threat and heard a sharp metallic clang. Pushing off, he glanced back to see Stirling seizing the moment to attack. The blade in Stirling's hand came down, narrowly missing his neck!

  "Bravo!" Monk Green snorted coldly. With a flick of his wrist, he soared through the broken net and stabbed Stirling three times.

  Sweat covered Stirling's trembling right hand, gripping the saber. This was his first fight since learning blade skills. It was also the first time he felt so close to death. As the monk attacked again, Stirling immediately blocked with his blade. But the force of the blow pushed him back several steps.

  "Weird! You're not a samurai or a worshipper. How can you withstand my blows?" Monk Green looked at Stirling in amazement.

  Stirling's right hand trembled slightly. Without the warmth coursing through him, the blade would have slipped.

  "Tell me where the lamp came from, and I'll leave you intact." Monk Green paused, but continued.

  "Fuck you!" Stirling cursed and lunged at Priest Green, slashing upward.

  "Hehe, it seems you won't talk unless I beat you."

  Monk Green laughed sinisterly as his longsword struck Stirling's. But then Monk Green's expression changed.

  Stirling feigned his blade attack, then shifted into a sweeping blow toward Monk Green's waist.

  "What blade skill is this? Such an odd change mid-strike!" Surprised, Green retreated instantly.

  Seeing his attack miss, Stirling smiled and swung his Tang Dao, sending it flying toward a nearby wooden stake.

  Dong! The long blade pierced the wood, snapping two silk threads. Then, two humming sounds followed. In the dim room, two beams of light shot toward the stunned Monk Green.