Jax's stomach growled loudly, the kind of sound that couldn't be ignored. He hadn't eaten in hours, hadn't had a sip of water either, and after the fight, the hunger gnawed at him like an old enemy. His hand drifted instinctively to his ribs, but there wasn't much he could do about it now.
His boots crunched against the dry dirt of the village as he surveyed the aftermath. A shattered cart leaned awkwardly against a post, blood had seeped into the ground near a broken spear, and a dull hum of unease hung in the air. The villagers stayed hidden in the shadows of their wooden huts, their eyes barely peeking through cracks in the walls, wide with fear. Not fear of the disciples—they were gone now—but fear of him.
Jax glanced at Kyra, walking ahead of him with her makeshift spear still in hand. Her movements were rigid, deliberate. She didn't trust him—he could see it in the way she glanced back every so often, her fingers twitching on the shaft of her weapon. For someone who looked like she might collapse from exhaustion, she was ready to fight at the drop of a hat.
The silence stretched too long for Jax's liking. He exhaled through his nose, forcing a smirk. "So… you always bring strange men into the middle of town, or am I special?"
Kyra stopped abruptly, spinning to face him. Her blue eyes were sharp, but there was a weariness there too, just barely hidden behind her defiance.
"Do you have any idea what you've done?" she snapped.
Jax blinked, then tilted his head. "Yeah. Saved your life." He gestured vaguely at the empty clearing behind them. "You're welcome Woman"
Kyra's grip on her spear tightened, and for a second, Jax thought she might actually try to hit him with it. "You killed disciples of the Thousand Blades Sect. Do you know what that means?"
He shrugged. "I could care less"
"It means they're going to come here," she hissed. "And when they find out their men are dead, they'll burn this village to the ground. Do you get it now? What you've done is going to get all of us killed."
Jax didn't flinch. He crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. "And leaving me out there would've stopped that? Seems like they were already using this place like their personal piggy bank."
Kyra's jaw tightened. She took a deep breath, trying to rein in her anger. "If they find you out there, alive or dead, they'll drag you back here anyway. At least if you're in the village, we can come up with a story.
Jax raised an eyebrow. "So you're keeping me around for damage control."
Kyra looked away, her gaze sweeping over the distant huts. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter, almost reluctant. "That's part of it. But…" She paused, frowning as though the words tasted bitter in her mouth. "You saved me. I didn't ask you to, but you did. And we need strength. Even if it comes from someone like you."
Jax watched her carefully. Her tone was cautious, her posture tense, but there was something else there too—just a glimmer of hope buried under all the fear. He smirked faintly. "Could've just said thank you, you know."
She turned and started walking again, not looking back. "Don't push your luck."
Kyra led him to a larger building in the center of the village—a crude structure of wood and stone that served as a communal gathering place. Inside, the air was cool and heavy with the smell of damp earth.
An older man sat on a low bench near the back, his gray hair pulled into a loose bun. His face was lined with age, but his posture remained upright, and his eyes were sharp. He wore simple robes, but the way the villagers deferred to him as they passed made it clear he was a figure of authority.
"Elder Yun," Kyra said, inclining her head respectfully. "This is the outsider I told you about."
Elder Yun's gaze swept over Jax, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he gestured for them to sit.
Jax leaned against the wall instead, crossing his arms. "I'm not much for sitting still," he said.
Kyra huffed but took a seat beside the elder.
"You killed the sect's disciples," Elder Yun said, his tone calm but heavy. "Do you know what that means?"
"You mean besides the fact that they were extorting you?" Jax asked, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, I figured it might piss them off."
Elder Yun sighed, his weathered hands resting on his knees. "You don't understand the way things work here, outsider. The Murim world is governed by power—Qi. Those who have it rule, and those who don't… serve."
Jax tilted his head. "This 'Qi' thing. What is it?"
Elder Yun glanced at Kyra, who gave a small nod. He turned back to Jax, his tone shifting to one of explanation.
"Qi is the fundamental energy that flows through all living things and the world itself," Elder Yun began. "It is a blend of spiritual, physical, and elemental forces. Those who cultivate Qi can perform feats beyond the limits of mortal flesh—strength, speed, durability, even manipulating the elements."
Jax frowned. "Cultivate? Like training?"
Elder Yun nodded. "Yes. But it is more than simple physical training. Practitioners develop their Qi through meditation, physical discipline, and rare resources. The stronger one's Qi, the greater their abilities."
"So those guys I killed were just trash on the ladder?" Jax asked.
"Outer Disciples," Kyra interjected. "They've only recently begun cultivating Qi. Their bodies are lightly reinforced, and their weapons can hold Qi for brief bursts. They're still dangerous to ordinary people, but compared to higher ranks…" She trailed off, her expression darkening.
"What's above them?" Jax pressed.
"Initiate (outer), Adepts(inner), Warriors, Masters," Kyra said. "It goes higher, but we don't see anyone above Warrior rank around here. Even their weakest can kill dozens of untrained people."
Elder Yun added, "The Thousand Blades Sect is one of the more ruthless groups in the Murim world. They dominate this region, and their philosophy is simple: only the strong deserve to survive."
Jax's jaw tightened. "And you just let them get away with it?"
Kyra scoffed, frustration flashing in her eyes. "Because having Qi and being able to use it are two completely different things. You think just anyone can swing a sword and make mountains crumble? It takes training—years of it. Cultivation isn't just about swinging a blade harder or running faster. It's a way of life, something most of us don't have the time, resources, or teachers to learn."
She gestured to the huts around them, her voice rising slightly. "We're farmers, tradespeople. Our lives are about planting crops, fixing roofs, trying to survive the winter. We don't have sects to teach us, sacred grounds to meditate in, or elixirs to make us stronger. And even if we did, do you think the Thousand Blades Sect would let us live long enough to use it?"
Jax tilted his head, thinking it over. "So, they're born into it? Like royalty?"
"Not exactly." Kyra hesitated, glancing at the ground as though searching for the right words. "Anyone can try to cultivate Qi. But it's harder than you think. Most who attempt it never get past the first step—opening their meridians. That's why sects are so powerful. They have resources, techniques, and the time to dedicate their lives to cultivation. Ordinary people like us don't."
She gave him a hard look. "So, no. We don't have a choice. What do you expect us to do against people who can cut down trees with a single strike?"
"I killed them without Qi."
Kyra glared at him, her frustration clear, but Elder Yun raised a hand, his calm demeanor silencing her. His sharp eyes turned to Jax, lingering for a moment on the twin pistols at his sides.
"Your weapons," Elder Yun said slowly, as though weighing his words, "are unlike anything we've seen. They're powerful, yes. But I imagine their power isn't infinite."
Jax smirked faintly, his hand brushing over the grip of Whisper. "You could say that."
Elder Yun leaned forward slightly. "How many times can you wield them before they lose their strength?"
Jax tilted his head, his expression unreadable. "14… I got 14 bullets left."
Kyra crossed her arms, frowning. "Are they… ancient weapons? Relics from before the great sects rose?" Her voice carried a note of both awe and suspicion.
Jax raised an eyebrow at her, amused. "Could be, but we call these Guns."
Elder Yun studied him for a moment longer before sitting back, his expression grave. "Guns you say , they won't protect you forever. And when their strength fades, you'll need something more."
Elder Yun nodded grimly. "And when those are gone? What will you rely on then?"
Jax didn't answer, his mind already calculating.
Elder Yun continued. "The Murim world is vast, and its rules are brutal. Power is everything. Sects rise and fall by their strength. They train their disciples not only to protect their territory but to expand it. The Thousand Blades Sect is not the only threat. There are others—sects that control elemental Qi like fire,wind,water and earth then you have beast Qi there could be more but we haven't seen any of those around here ."
"Sounds like a real cheery place," Jax muttered.
"It is a world where the strong devour the weak ," Elder Yun said. "But it is also one of opportunity. If you truly intend to stay here, you must learn to navigate its ways. That means understanding Qi."
Jax's smirk returned. "And how exactly do I do that? I'm not exactly one of your Qi wizards."
Kyra looked at him thoughtfully. "You're not… but you might not need to be. Those weapons of yours—they're unnatural in this world. The way they cut through Qi defenses… it's like nothing I've seen before."
Elder Yun nodded. "Your weapons give you an advantage. But you must learn . Your reflexes are sharp, but against a true master, they won't be enough."
"So what are you saying?" Jax asked.
"Stay," Elder Yun said simply. "Let us teach you the rules of this world. Learn what you're up against before you draw your weapon again."
Jax leaned back against the wall, considering. His instincts told him to keep moving, to avoid entanglements. But something about this world—its raw brutality, its lack of fairness—rubbed him the wrong way.
Finally, he shrugged. "Fine. But if your rules get in the way of me putting people like those sect guys in the ground, I'm out."
Kyra crossed her arms, her expression skeptical. "You're just as likely to get yourself killed."
Jax smirked faintly, his sharp eyes flicking toward Kyra. "Lady, I've been living on borrowed time for years. This world's just another battlefield to me."
Before she could reply, his stomach let out a low, insistent growl that cut through the tense silence. He sighed, running a hand down his face. "And apparently, this battlefield doesn't come with rations."
Kyra blinked, her frustration briefly replaced by something closer to amusement, though she quickly masked it with a stern look. "You fought like that on an empty stomach?"
Jax shrugged. "Saying to himself I was at war for almost a month I haven't had a decent meal since ."
Elder Yun rose slowly from his seat, gesturing toward the door. "Come. We may not have much, but we'll share what we can. Even a warrior needs strength to fight another day."
Jax pushed off the wall, straightening his coat. "Finally."
Kyra muttered something under her breath, but turned and led the way out. The air outside was cool, carrying faint traces of smoke and the earthy scent of the surrounding forest. Villagers emerged hesitantly from their homes, watching Jax with wide, wary eyes as they passed.
She brought him to a small building near the edge of the village, where a woman was ladling thin stew into wooden bowls. The pot over the fire was modest, the smell earthy and simple, but to Jax, it was enough to remind him how hollow his stomach felt.
Kyra handed him a bowl, her expression still guarded. "Don't expect a feast."
Jax took it without complaint, sniffing the contents before raising an eyebrow. "You're right. It's not much, but it beats dying hungry."
Kyra didn't reply, but as she sat down across from him, she finally allowed herself a small, reluctant smile.
Elder Yun's voice broke the moment. "Eat. Tomorrow, we talk about what happens next."
Jax nodded, raising the bowl to his lips and taking a slow sip. The taste was simple but warm, and as he leaned back against the wooden wall, the weight of exhaustion began to settle into his bones.
For now, at least, the battlefield could wait.
End of Chapter 3