Of Hunters and Immortals

The night air over the docks was cold and heavy, thick with the smells of salt, tar, and damp, rotting wood. From their perch on the tiled roof of a warehouse, Jiang and Lin had a clear, unobstructed view of the harbour. Lanterns cast long, wavering reflections on the black water, and the low murmur of voices from a dockside tavern drifted up to them on the breeze.

Below, the Dawn's Fortune sat moored at the pier, a dark, hulking shape against the lesser darkness of the water. A few lights flickered on its deck, signs of a skeleton crew keeping watch.

"So," Lin said, her voice a low murmur beside him. "It's here. Looks big. Expensive." She shifted, pulling her knees up to her chest. "You still haven't told me how you're planning to do this. And don't say 'quickly,' because that's not a plan; it's just a way to die fast."

Jiang kept his eyes on the ship, turning the problem over in his mind. An obvious solution presented itself. "We set it on fire."

Lin went very still. She turned to look at him, her expression a flat, unimpressed line in the gloom. "You're joking."

"Why would I be joking?"

"Because that's the stupidest idea I've ever heard," she hissed, her voice sharp with disbelief. "This is the docks, Jiang. Fire isn't just a problem here; it's the end of the world. The second anyone sees so much as a spark, every sailor, guard, and wharf rat from here to the city gates will be down there with buckets. They'd have it out before you even got off the pier."

"They won't see it," Jiang insisted. "I'll get into the cargo hold. Start the fire there. By the time they notice the smoke, the cargo will be lost."

Lin actually snorted, a sound of pure derision. "You think a ship's crew doesn't know the smell of smoke? They live on floating wooden boxes, you idiot. They can probably tell the difference between burning rope and burning canvas from half a mile away. Someone will be down in that hold before your fire is big enough to roast a potato." She shook her head, running a hand through her hair in frustration. "It's a terrible plan. We need something they can't just put out."

Jiang fell silent, considering her words. Irritatingly, they made sense. Fire was too visible, too easy to fight. He needed something more final. Something that, once started, couldn't be stopped.

"Fine," he said finally. "Then I'll sink it."

Lin stared at him, her mouth opening and closing for a moment before she found words. "Oh, you'll sink it? Just like that, nice and easy. And exactly how were you planning on sinking it? Asking nicely? You do know that ships are designed to not sink, right?"

Jiang felt that the amount of sarcasm coming his way was a little excessive.

"I'll sneak on board, get down to the cargo hold so no one sees me, then… use something to smash a hole in the side."

Jiang wasn't blind to the… spotty nature of his plan. Unfortunately, there wasn't much he could do about it – there were only so many ways to destroy the shipment, especially considering he needed to be quiet enough that nobody would notice until it was too late.

"Your plan is to put a hole in a ship," Lin said slowly, as if testing the shape of the words, "While you're on it. And then what, exactly? Drown with the evidence?"

"I can swim," Jiang said flatly.

"You can swim?" she repeated, her voice rising with incredulity. "In that? In the middle of the night? That's not a river, Jiang; it's the harbour. It's freezing, it's deep, and it's black as pitch. You'll get tangled in a mooring rope and die ten feet from the pier."

"Do you have any other ideas?"

"Of course not!" Lin threw her hands up. "Believe it or not, but I've never had to try and plan out something like this before." She paused for a second. "Look… do you even need to destroy the shipment here? Why not just wait until they've unloaded it and take care of it then?"

That was actually something Jiang had already considered.

"Too many things could go wrong. What if they split up, take the shipment to a bunch of different places? Besides, for all I know, they're going to sneak it away to try and avoid taxes or something. And even if they weren't, my instructions were to destroy it before it could be unloaded. I'm assuming there's a reason for that."

Lin shot him a flat look. "And that doesn't ring any alarm bells for you? That you don't even know why you're doing this?"

Jiang shrugged. "I'm getting paid for it. That's all I really care about."

It wasn't – or at least, not entirely. Still, he wasn't about to waste time trying to explain his justifications to Lin, especially considering he wasn't altogether certain of them himself yet.

"How much are you getting paid for this?" Lin asked suddenly.

"Enough," Jiang said dryly. He wasn't so gullible as to think transparency was a good idea here. Paying her three silver was already edging towards too much, and it was only the fact that he would have to take another job anyway to afford the Broker's information that made him willing to pay that much. If Lin caught wind of how much he was making, she'd doubtlessly try to swindle more off him.

Lin grumbled at his response but didn't push.

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With the debate settled, at least for now, Jiang pushed himself to his feet, his mind already moving on to the execution of the plan. He took a step toward the edge of the roof, preparing to find a path down to the docks.

"Wait. Just… wait, you stubborn ox," Lin shot out a hand, not quite grabbing him but gesturing sharply enough to make him pause. He stopped, looking down at her. "If you're actually going to do this insane thing, you can't go like that."

She pointed a slim finger at the gear he wore. "That cloak will soak up water and drag you straight to the bottom. And the bow? You'll be fighting to keep your head up, not trying to shoot arrows from the harbour. Sword won't do you much good either."

Jiang hesitated. That… was a fair point about the cloak and his bow. Honestly, he'd forgotten he was still carrying the borrowed bow – years of hunting meant he felt more unusual if he didn't have a bow strung across his back.

But the sword… "How else am I supposed to make a hole?" he asked, his hand dropping to the hilt of the weapon at his hip. "It's the only tool I have for it."

"With a sword? Are you serious? Do you have any idea how thick a ship's hull is?"

"Not really, no. Do you?"

"Well, no," Lin admitted after a pause. "But if you could just poke a hole in one with a sword, half the ships in the harbour would have sunk from bumping into a sharp rock."

…Didn't most ships sink when they ran into sharp rocks? Still, he couldn't refute the logic. Of course, just because a mortal couldn't make a hole in a boat with a sword didn't mean he couldn't. In fairness, it didn't necessarily mean he could either – he was stronger than a mortal, but how much stronger? He didn't really have a way to check.

"You need a proper tool," Lin insisted, her voice a low, urgent hiss. "Find an axe. Or a heavy mallet and a chisel. Something that's actually meant to break wood."

"Fine. I'll see if I can find something," Jiang allowed after a moment. "I'm still taking the sword, though."

Even if it didn't help him make a hole, it would still help him if he were spotted. With a grunt of resignation, he unclasped the cloak, letting it fall to the tiles. He unslung the borrowed bow and set it down carefully beside the cloak, along with its quiver.

"You know, you should probably leave your coin pouch as well," Lin tried. "If you get caught, it's not like it'll do you any good."

Jiang didn't bother dignifying that with a response as he made his way to the edge of the rooftop and started searching for a way down. Behind him, Lin shrugged to herself.

"Eh, worth a shot."

— — —

Jiang crept through the shadows along the wharf, keeping himself low and alert. The dockside lanterns cast pools of wavering light onto the weathered planks, giving him just enough darkness to slip from one blind spot to the next. The scent of salt and fish hung heavy in the air, mingled with the sharper smells of tar and oil.

As he reached the moored Dawn's Fortune, Jiang paused to observe the lone sailor lounging near the gangplank. The man leaned lazily against a stack of crates, a bottle in one hand, his gaze fixed more on the murky harbour water than on his surroundings. Jiang took a slow, calming breath and drew lightly on his Qi.

Almost immediately, he noticed something odd. The last few days had been busy enough that he hadn't had a chance to look further into the effects the changes to his Qi would have on his stealth technique, but… it felt like it had used to. Back at the Azure Sky Sect, when it had been more similar to the raven's technique. Rather than gathering shadows around him, his Qi dispersed his presence, blurring the edge of attention.

Interesting.

It didn't matter right now, he decided. Stealth was stealth, whatever form it took – and honestly, blurring his presence was probably actually more helpful in this situation. He moved forward cautiously, stepping onto the ship's gangplank. The wooden boards creaked slightly beneath his weight, and Jiang froze, glancing swiftly toward the sailor. But the man never stirred; his attention remained firmly fixed on the gently shifting water, utterly uninterested in the possibility of intruders. After all, they were safely in port – what could possibly be a threat here?

Relieved, Jiang crept silently onto the deck, eyes scanning carefully. He moved toward a hatch near the ship's stern, assuming it led to the cargo hold. Thankfully, the latch wasn't locked, and Jiang lifted it carefully, slipping through into the darkened space below.

He landed softly, boots muffled by straw scattered on the planks. The hold smelled of spices and dry wood, filled with stacked crates and heavy barrels secured with thick rope. Dim light filtered in from the hatch, but it was enough for Jiang to find the outer hull. He moved deeper into the cargo hold as he drew his sword, slipping silently down the steep stairs leading to the bowels of the ship and examining the wood critically.

With cultivator strength, this shouldn't be difficult. At least, he hoped so. Lining up the tip carefully against a seam between two sturdy planks, Jiang drew in a breath, gathered his Qi, and thrust forward with as much strength as he could manage.

The blade pierced barely half an inch into the wood before stopping abruptly. Jiang felt the shock of impact vibrate painfully up his arm. Scowling, he yanked the sword free, noting the shallow scratch he'd made—far from the catastrophic breach he'd envisioned.

Maybe he hadn't used enough strength. He steadied himself, channelled more Qi, and struck again.

Again, the sword stuck pitifully into the plank, hardly deeper than the first attempt. Jiang pulled it loose with an irritated growl, staring at the offending hull in disbelief.

So much for that.

Lin, annoyingly, had been right. Clearly, ships were built sturdier than he'd given them credit for, or, perhaps more accurately, his sword was a worse tool for the job than he'd expected. He sheathed his sword, eyes scanning the gloom for something heavier, more suitable for brute force.

Fortunately, he didn't have to look far to find a hatchet resting on top of a coil of sturdy-looking rope. Presumably, it was kept nearby in case the crew had to sever a rope to save the ship. How ironic that it would now be used to sink the vessel instead.

Returning to the damaged plank, Jiang readied himself once more. Bracing one foot against a crate behind him, he swung the hatchet forward in a wide arc. The blade bit deeply into the wood with a satisfying crack, splinters scattering around his feet.

He smiled grimly. This was more like it.

He swung again, driving the hatchet deeper. Chips of timber flew outward, and a faint trickle of water began seeping through the cracks, gleaming wetly in the dim light. Progress, but… this was moving too slowly. He couldn't hear anyone moving around just yet, but it was only a matter of time. He needed to speed it up.

He raised the hatchet again, this time carefully angling his blows to cut a long vertical slit through the damaged plank. The wood cracked and splintered beneath the repeated strikes, water now steadily streaming into the hold. Once the first slit was complete, Jiang quickly moved lower, chopping out a second vertical cut parallel to the first.

With a final swing, the wood between the two cuts gave way, dropping a narrow, elongated section of plank into the dark water below. For a heartbeat, the gap seemed small, insignificant.

Then the wood groaned, loud and deep, resonating through the hull. Water surged violently into the hole, snapping the surrounding planks under the sudden pressure. Within a blink, the rush of water turned into a torrent, pouring into the hold. The sheer force of the water swept Jiang off his feet, slamming him into the crates behind him as seawater flooded the space, icy cold and merciless.