Destiny in Cinders

Chapter 61: Fangboars

An Jing and Yvelbane had devised a strategy to move through both worlds simultaneously.

”Should danger strike in Void Embrace, I can slip into this other world for safety, and vice versa. In Void Embrace, I must evade the Heavenly Demon Cult, the Crimsonguard, and any heavenly fiends who might be searching for me. I must grow stronger so I can leave the mountains and reach a town in Grand Chen, where I can change my identity and disappear.

”In this foreign world, I’ll need to get to a populated area as quickly as possible so I can gather information, figure out the language, study their behavior, and adopt their customs. Then I can blend in and conceal my identity. I’ve still got a piece of souljade and the inkjade skull, which I can use to trade with. I don’t know what they’re worth, but they should be enough for me to settle in for now.

”The weapons here are extremely dangerous. Between the gunpowder armaments and those spirit-beam guns... I must proceed with caution. Perhaps I should capture a local for questioning or find some way to be useful to them...”

The plan was set. All that remained was to wait for the rain to stop.

”What a bummer.” An Jing watched the churning, dark-purple clouds from the mouth of the cave. He rubbed his growling stomach and sighed, ”I was hoping to find something to eat in the mountains, but it looks like I’ll just have to starve... Huh?”

He heard the sound of hooves echoing in the distance, steadily approaching the cave. Though the rain and thunder muffled the sound, it was clear to a cultivator like An Jing. Springing to his feet, he used Profoundstep and quickly vanished behind a large boulder near the entrance.

Dashing through the caustic rain, a pair of pig-like beasts with large fangs scrambled into the cave for shelter. Standing nearly three-and-a-half chi tall, these fangboars had a coarse, dark-brown hide so resilient that even lethal qi failed to leave a mark.

Even so, the two beasts had no desire to soak in the corrosive rain. They immediately shook themselves dry, showcasing their solid muscles and thick layers of fat.

Wow, meat!

A silent exclamation escaped his thoughts. An Jing’s eyes lit up as he swallowed hard.

”Talk about a stroke of luck! Tell me, Yvelbane, is this what you meant?”

”They’re dangkangs.”[1] The sword soul in his sea of consciousness immediately identified the strange beasts.

”Dangkangs are auspicious beasts that possess the power to accelerate plant growth and control spirit plants. They’re stewards of the forest and providers of a bountiful harvest. In my time, they were guardian beasts.

”These two have bloodlines so thin they can only be considered minor spirit beasts. Nevertheless, they’re still too powerful for an ordinary Aura Realm martialist to handle. Such is the nature of your lifearc. Luck only sets the stage, but you still have to fight to reap the benefits.”

”That’s how it should be. But Yvelbane...”

Auspicious beasts, dangkangs, fangboars or just plain wildboars—it didn’t matter. There was only one thought in his mind.

”Can I eat it? Is it tasty? How do I cook it?”

Yvelbane’s reply was succinct. ”Yes, yes, roast it.”

”I see.”

While the two fangboars were occupied shaking off the rain, An Jing peered from behind the boulder, his eyes red with hunger. He gripped his jade dagger and manifested the lethal-qi sword.

Fifteen minutes later, An Jing had a fire going.

An Jing slaughtered the two fangboars in the span of three breaths. In the first breath, he dashed out from the shadows using Profoundstep. Before the beast on the left could react, he unleashed a surge of Armorpierce Impetus, driving his blade through its eye socket and deep into its brain.

By the second breath, the surviving boar sensed An Jing’s presence and unleashed a loud cry. As the mighty roar echoed, dark-brown roots erupted from its fallen companion’s back, snaking toward An Jing’s arms and ankles.

In the third breath, An Jing seemed to defy gravity as he launched himself from the roots. His sword drew an arc in the air, slicing through the neck of the charging fangboar with a single stroke. He landed cleanly just as the beast’s head hit the ground, its neck erupting in a geyser of dark-purple blood.

”Your technique is impeccable. You’re a step away from the absolute perfection of a grandmaster.”

Yvelbane watched An Jing kill both fangboars possessing the strength of an intermediate Aura Realm martialist without breaking a sweat, a feat that would have overwhelmed a full team of trained hunters.

The sword soul praised, ”The average Aura martialist wouldn’t stand a chance against you. An Jing, were you a martial grandmaster in your former life? Or perhaps a sword immortal?”

”My skills are nothing special. It’s just that the Imperial Sky Art is made for ambushes and surprise attacks.” An Jing put away the lethal-qi sword and began slicing through the fangboar’s flesh with the jade dagger.

As he gut and deboned the beast, An Jing said, ”With Abyssedge Stake Aura Refining to conceal me, Profoundstep to launch a surprise attack, Armorpierce Impetus to unleash a burst of strength, and Qiform Arsenal that allows me to manifest a sword that slices through metal like mud, not even a Fortification Realm martialist could survive my ambush. There’s no way two fangboars, even with their auspicious-beast lineage, could push me harder than the manor lord.”

However, he still had doubts about his past life. ”Is my technique really that good? I feel like I’m just doing what anyone else could do. Even junior disciples at a martial academy would find this easy, wouldn’t they? I wouldn’t be surprised if they surpassed me. My martial aptitude is pretty average.”

”Average?” Yvelbane scoffed. ”Who are you measuring yourself against? In what world is that average?”

”I don’t remember.”

The man and sword were both missing parts of their memories. They tried to speak about the past, but their conversation was destined to circle back to nothing.

Before they even finished speaking, An Jing had already split the boar open. In a flash, the bones and innards were gone. He deftly carved out the prized cuts, focusing on the fangboar’s back, legs, and fat.

The flesh from the boar’s back was exceptionally tender and fragrant when roasted. Once deboned and smoked, the legs made for perfect, easy-to-carry travel rations, while the fat rendered from the loin could be stored as a reliable source of oil.

An Jing was forced to discard the offal and meat scraps as he had neither the time to prepare them nor the capacity to carry them.

”Either way, no ordinary person could ever be as efficient as you,” Yvelbane said with certainty after observing the process from start to finish.

Glancing at his hands, An Jing agreed. ”Then again, where did I even learn to do this?”

It didn’t matter. With the meat prepped, An Jing gathered stones from the cave to assemble a makeshift stove. He lit a fire with his own kindling and fuel and began roasting the meat.

A distinct, fresh aroma wafted from the fangboar’s purple-tinged meat. Slicing the meat and draining the blood only intensified the fragrance. When An Jing skinned the fangboar, he was surprised to find its back surprisingly soft. A symbiotic plant root had woven itself into an organic armor capable of withstanding the corrosive rain.

The armor was alive and still writhing even now. Thanks to its auspicious-beast lineage, fangboars had the power to manipulate plants, controlling them through their calls. Had he been in the woods, An Jing would have struggled to kill them. Fortunately, the fangboars had retreated into a barren cave to escape the corrosive rain brought by the descending warship. This had left them with nothing but the symbiotic plants growing on their own backs to count on.

1. The dangkang is the auspicious beast that represents the harvest in the ancient times recorded in The Classic of Mountains and Seas, resembling a pig with teeth. It is also known as the fangboar (牙豚) and symbolizes immense abundance and prosperity. ☜