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Chapter 8: Feeding
🕑 Added 2025-04-13 14:52:11 +0000 UTC“Ah, Young Master! You have returned! And just in time for feeding. Did that horse give you any trouble?”
Feng tiredly guided the horse into the stable, shaking his head. “The horse was very well-behaved, as usual. You have trained her well, Stablemaster Geng.”
The large man chuckled, patting the flaming equine as he checked her over. “I think the Fire-Wheels have taken a liking to you, Young Lord! Not many disciples often take our mares for riding. Most either prefer the Lantern Bats for flight or the Black-Hoofed Stallions for power. You choosing them gives the Fire-Wheels a chance to stretch their legs.”
“The mare serves my purposes best,” Feng said as he gave the horse the last of his qi biscuits. The equine snorted happily as she munched down the treats.
Lantern Bats were swift and could fly over terrain, but were unable to carry much cargo. Meanwhile, the Black-Hoofed Stallion’s terrifying presence and tendency to go into a fire-breathing rampage at the slightest provocation made them unsuitable for riding into fragile mortal villages.
The Fire-Wheel Mares, despite their intimidating flaming hooves and eyes, were a more familiar sight. They also boast a calmer nature and a robust endurance that ensures reliable speed even while weighed down by cargo or when travelling on mountainous terrain. He gave the mare one final pat, who affectionately nuzzled against his hand, before passing over the reins.
“I’m sure the villagers were thrilled to see you visit them personally again, My Lord! You always bring the best gifts for them,” Geng said good-naturedly, and Feng smiled back. The Stablemaster meant his words in the best of light, and it was one of the reasons Feng enjoyed the older Core Disciple’s company.
Most in the Sect knew of the Young Master’s odd tendency to mingle among the lower mortals of the mountain, showering them with unearned charity and favours. None really understood the reason behind this strange behaviour, and Feng never tried to explain why he did so.
More than a few had attempted to persuade him off from this squandering of time and resources. A Young Master of a Sect should not lower himself to serve the unawakened masses. But his father, the Patriarch, never disallowed his frequent touring of the mortal villages, and after years of this practice, most gave up on changing his behaviour, and simply regarded it as just another oddity.
It helped that the Young Master never wasted too much of the Sect’s resources, as he always used his own funds to purchase the donations he gave to the peasants. Hence, despite the general criticism of his actions from the rest of the Sect, many were willing to just ignore it.
But occasionally, there were people who approved of his monthly charity visits. Geng was one of them.
“Most were suffering too much to care for my presence, Senior Brother,” Feng replied, a hint of fatigue creeping into his voice. “Our Outer Disciples have been lax in their duties again.”
“It is the way of things. Those who are assigned such posts — positions that oversee mortal affairs — are often troublemakers or bottle-necked disciples, Young Master,” Geng said sympathetically. “The Elders put them there to rid the Sect of untalented students.”
The Core Disciple coaxed the mare back into the stable house, but rather than lead her back to her holding pens, the Stablemaster was tugging her into one of the darker alcoves. The mare grew hesitant, and began whining as she resisted his pulling.
“Their given roles are seen as punishments, rather than an acknowledgement of their capabilities,” Geng continued, as he pulled the leash along with a strong hand. “Placed under such assignments, they lack the opportunity to cultivate or train, and thus further stagnate. That they do not receive any reward or compensation for going out of their way to help the mortals is another sore point for them.”
“They failed in their responsibilities,” Feng argued back as he walked alongside the older disciple, though his words were a half-hearted effort. “Is there no shame in that?”
Geng shrugged. The mare’s struggles intensified as the disciple continued walking towards the dark sections of the building, uncaring of the mare’s distress. His grip was iron-tight, and the fiery Spirit Beast was choking as she futilely resisted against the hold on her neck with all her strength.
“Villages rise and fall all the time. To beasts. To famine. To disease. To disaster… The lives of mortals are short; their capacity to withstand the harsh elements of our world limited.” Feng heard his Senior’s words clearly, even with the distress neighing in the background. “The loss of a hundred, even a thousand, of such unawakened worms is not a great loss to the Sect. You are the only one who cares enough to punish the Outer Disciples for the laxity in their ‘duties’, Young Master.”
It was an argument he had heard many times before, and Feng could even see the logic in that. The weak fell; the strong pushed onwards. The pursuit of Immortality leaves no room for mercy or kindness, especially to those beneath you. The way forward was already paved with enough difficulties.
He understood this. The thing in his Heart, however, did not.
Upon seeing the Young Master’s expression, Geng bowed his head.
“I mean no disrespect, Young Lord. I myself came from one of those lowly villages, many decades ago. Your kindness for those beneath you makes you more of a man of quality than not in my humble eyes. However…”
The mare was in an open panic now, violently thrashing with wide eyes and frantic brays as they approached closer to a large, sealed-off alcove. A sharp tsk of annoyance escaped the older disciple’s lips.
“Stubborn beast,” he murmured, before he raised a foot and brought it done upon the mare’s foreleg.
The limb cracked with barely a hint of resistance, bones breaking into sickening splinters while blood splattered everywhere. The mare roared in maddening pain. Her blazing gaze flared with fury as its qi rose in power.
Foundation Realm, Eighth Step.
Turning to the Core Disciple, she unleashed all of her rage and power, her fiery eye pulsing once before firing a golden ray of incendiary energy at Disciple Geng…
… who nonchalantly slapped the beam aside before bringing down his fist upon the mare’s head.
The horse’s skull cracked under the blow, leaving her severely dazed and wounded, but alive. Her legs gave out, but that mattered little to the Core Disciple, who simply dragged the now-pacified beast along.
“Our world is not such a kind place for you to indulge in fantasies of fairness or justice, Young Master,” Geng continued as if nothing had happened. “This goes doubly so for those weaker than us. The strong devour, and the weak become devoured. This is the world that our Emperor has created with his domain, the Eternal Banquet. If there was a kinder world, it is doubtless that His Majesty had already considered it.”
“And rejected it.”
The familiar stench of rust and rot made its presence known, even as Feng knew it was not real.
The mare’s nature as a Spirit Beast made it a greater threat than any mundane animal. It was a creature that could cultivate, and as such possessed powers that would threaten even a group of mortal men.
None of that mattered to a human cultivator whose standing completely eclipsed hers, however. Brother Geng flexed his qi casually as the burnt wound in his palm healed.
Tempering Realm, Fifth Step. Nearly two Realms higher than the Spirit Beast.
There was a reason why Brother Geng — a Core Disciple — was the Stablemaster, and not another Inner or Outer Disciple of the Sect. The role of a Stablemaster was a trying one. A firm hand was needed to control the Spirit Beasts…
And to corral them for feeding.
With a heave, Brother Geng casually lifted the giant mare over his shoulder and hurled her forth like the animal was a mere sack of grain. The horse flew, its distressed cries silenced with a heavy thud as it landed in the middle of the den before them; the deepest and darkest alcove of the stablehouse. She gave a weak whine as more of her legs broke from the impact. The scent of blood and fear filled the pit.
Above her, something stirred. Within the near pitch-black darkness of that room, a trio of pulsating orange lights glowed on the ceiling, revealing a bulbous sack of translucent skin, luminous organs…
And three pairs of dripping, ravenous maws.
The Lantern Bats descended upon their prey, their excited shrieks mingling with the horrified cries of the mare. The equine stood no chance. Weakened and outnumbered as she was, her feeble thrashing barely gave pause to the triad of giant winged monstrosities that fell upon her. Great flapping wings, each with a wingspan of over three men, blocked the gruesome sight from view as the bats glut themselves upon the mare’s warm blood.
“There we go!” Brother Geng dusted off his hands as he looked on with satisfaction. “Elder Cao from External Relations recently brought in a few giant Blindstone Lizards; gifts from your Fiancée to our Sect, apparently. I figured it was as good a time as any to clear out the older mares and make some room. At least you were able to let this one have one last ride before its end, Young Master. I’m sure it’s grateful.”
The Young Master mutely nodded as his gaze remained in the pit. The mare within could barely move any more. Her cries of pain were growing weaker, their distress barely audible beyond the horrible, gobbling slurps of the giant bats as they sank their distended jaws into the rich arteries of the mare.
Standing beside that orgy of bloodthirst and misery, a woman looked down upon the dying Spirit Beast, her singular green eye void of expression. Feng blinked, and she was gone.
“I could have the mare’s meat sent for dinner later, if you wish,” Geng continued. “Lantern Bats only drink the blood of their prey. We can have the remains diced up and cooked for your consumption tonight. You must be hungry after your little trip, and I am sure Lady Lianshi would appreciate some local cuisine. The meat of a Fire-Wheel Mare is a rather rare delicacy, after all!”
“That is a good idea, Senior Brother Geng,” Feng numbly replied. His words felt distant. The sounds of slurping blood and feeble neighing seemed to echo deafeningly in his ears. “I’m sure our guest from the foreign Sect will appreciate the gesture.”
The wings of the Lantern Bats folded briefly. In that brief window, he saw the gaze of the Fire-Wheel Mare desperately seeking his. She gave a begging whine, tear-stained eyes pleading.
Feng heard a voice.
“Does your path forward lie in accepting such callousness?”
Half-dazed, fingers arching, the Young Master took a step forth—
There was a sickening crack. One of the bats, in its ravenous enthusiasm, had accidentally snapped the neck of the mare when its jaws twisted upon her throat. The light in the mare's eyes gave out, and her whining ceased entirely.
There was nought left but the stench of gore and the sound of chittering beasts, their tongues digging into veins and drawing upon the last drops of blood from the rapidly paling corpse.
“Ah, that’s unfortunate. I was hoping the mare would last longer. Her qi would have burned away the bats’ impurities, but I suppose the Lanterns’ enthusiasm can’t be blamed.” Brother Geng scratched his chin sheepishly. “I haven’t been feeding them as often as I should. The bats only accept live prey, and not many of our Disciples are punished severely enough to warrant serving as blood bags for our stables.”
“But worry not, Young Master!” The older disciple continued with a cheer, oblivious to the Young Master’s expression. “I will make sure the cooks thoroughly prepare the meat and rid them of any foul bat toxins. You may rest assured that only the finest organs and cleanest cuts of horse flank will grace the dinner table tonight.”
Something foul and heavy returned to his heart; the hard-earned weightlessness he had worked for all morning vanished in an instant. Nails and chains and knives descended on him, piercing and tearing and clawing at his chest, his heart exposed to her teeth–
Feng wrenched himself out of the false memory.
“I will leave that in your capable hands then, Senior Brother Geng.” The Young Master turned to the Disciple and bowed. Feng’s poise was impeccable, his expression featureless. “If you will excuse me, I have other business to attend to as well.”
“Of course! Don’t let me stop you. Have a good day, Young Lord!”
The Young Master walked leisurely out of the stables. He greeted the few other disciples in the building as he left, his countenance pleasant and his stride composed.
He walked past the exit of the stable, past the entrance to the gates of the Sect compound, past the cobbled highways of the monastery.
He did not stop until he found a secluded corner, next to a patch of greenery growing a small fig tree.
Then, once he had ascertained there was no one else around, he hunched over and vomited.
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The Phoenix Mountain, Part 1
The Phoenix Mountain stands as one of the four great peaks of the 103rd Outer Province, serving as the home of one of its few Sects: the Sect of the Beheaded Phoenix.
Standing at eight hundred metres in height, the Phoenix Mountain may be on the shorter side among the Four Mountains of the Province, yet its slopes and highlands brim with natural wonders and a vibrant ecosystem, characterised by dense forests of Stonepine and Firewreath Trees. Its abundance of Spirit-infused wood makes the mountain a key exporter of high-quality lumber to all the Northern Outer Provinces.
The mountain is also home to a wide variety of animals and Spirit Beasts. Some, like the Fire-Wheel Mare and the Black-Hoofed Stallions, roam the grassy highlands around the lower slopes of the mountain. Others, like the Lantern Bats or the Hundredskitter Centipedes, dwell within the extensive tunnel networks that wind through the mountain.
The more dangerous and exotic Spirit Beasts, like the Redmane Lions or Grasping Hawks, often build their homes closer to the mountain peaks, where the ambient qi saturations are higher, although they are occasionally sighted in the lower valleys as they hunt for prey.
– Excerpt from A Citizen’s Guide to the Flesh-Grafted Empire
