The Wanderer (Xianxia)

Bai Feng moved first. Not a warning, not a threat—just sudden, overwhelming violence.

Jon barely managed to twist aside as a palm strike whistled past his ear, the displacement of air alone enough to make his eardrum pop. He stumbled back, raising his guard, but Bai Feng was already inside it. A fist caught Jon in the ribs. Something cracked.

Pain exploded through Jon's chest. He gasped, instinctively channeling qi to the injury—a trick Han had shown him just yesterday. It dulled the pain but didn't fix anything.

No time to think. The white-haired cultivator moved like quicksilver, each strike flowing into the next. Jon backpedaled, desperately trying to create distance.

Overhead, Han and the princess tore across the sky, their battle sending shockwaves that rattled the village's wooden structures. Tiles crashed down from rooftops. Market stalls collapsed. People screamed, running in every direction.

Bai Feng's tiger circled, its amber eyes tracking Jon's every move.

"Is this truly the Thunder King's new disciple?" Bai Feng asked, taking a casual draw from his jade pipe. The smoke twisted unnaturally around his fingers. "Disappointing."

Jon spotted a group of children frozen in terror as the battling cultivators overhead sent a wooden beam crashing toward them. He diverted precious qi into a hasty air current, pushing the beam away. It crashed harmlessly into an empty stall.

Bai Feng didn't waste the opening. He appeared in front of Jon, driving a knee into his stomach. Jon doubled over, retching. Another blow caught him across the jaw, sending him sprawling into the mud.

Blood filled his mouth. Jon spat and rolled to his feet, his vision blurry. A few villagers had stopped to watch, too curious or too scared to flee.

"Get out of here!" Jon shouted at them.

An elderly woman stood petrified as a section of roof began sliding down toward her. Jon sprinted across the market square, tackling her out of the way just as the tiles shattered where she'd been standing.

The tiger pounced while Jon was still getting the old woman to her feet. He threw himself sideways, pulling her with him. The beast's claws raked his shoulder, tearing through cloth and skin.

"Run!" Jon pushed the woman toward safety.

"Nobility will get you killed, outlander," Bai Feng said, drawing from his pipe again. The smoke formed complex patterns in the air between him and his tiger. "This battle is beyond your capacity."

Jon watched the smoke, his engineer's mind noting how the patterns shifted. There was something methodical about it, almost mathematical.

No time to analyze. Bai Feng attacked again, moving so fast he seemed to blur. Jon managed to block the first strike but missed the second and third. Pain bloomed across his chest and abdomen.

Another section of the market collapsed as a blast of cold qi from the aerial battle froze and shattered supporting beams. A mother screamed as debris rained down toward her child. Jon diverted more qi, creating a pocket of vacuum that pulled the debris off-course.

His momentary distraction cost him. Bai Feng's foot connected with Jon's knee. Something tore. Jon went down hard.

"Your concern for these mortals is your weakness," Bai Feng said, advancing slowly. "The Unorthodox Faction would teach you better."

Jon crawled backward, searching desperately for an escape route. The tiger circled to cut him off.

He needed a plan. Fighting directly was suicide. Running wasn't an option with civilians in danger. But Bai Feng seemed content to toy with him, savoring his dominance.

That gave Jon time to watch. To observe.

The smoke from Bai Feng's pipe moved in precise patterns. When Bai Feng shifted his weight left, the smoke twisted clockwise. When the tiger moved, the smoke responded with counter-movements, like a balancing mechanism.

Jon's eyes narrowed. The pipe wasn't just an affectation. It was a control mechanism.

He forced himself to his feet, putting his weight on his good leg. Blood trickled from a dozen minor wounds. His broken ribs sent jolts of agony through his chest with each breath.

"Had enough?" Bai Feng asked, his tone almost bored.

Jon didn't answer. Instead, he channeled qi into his palm, forming the electrical current he'd used to charge his phone. It crackled between his fingers, weak but visible.

Bai Feng laughed. "Lightning arts? From a novice like you?"

A thunderous crash from above sent a shop's entire facade collapsing. A child's scream cut through the chaos. Jon pivoted, seeing a young boy trapped beneath falling debris. Without hesitation, he jumped forward, using air techniques to push aside the heaviest beams while pulling the boy free.

Pain seared through his injured leg, but he managed to set the child down safely. "Go find your mother!"

The distraction cost him again. The tiger slammed into his back, claws digging into his shoulders. Jon crashed face-first into the mud, the beast's weight crushing him. Hot breath scorched his neck as jaws prepared to close on his spine.

Jon channeled every scrap of qi he had left into a burst of electrical energy. Not refined, not controlled—just raw power. The tiger yowled, momentarily stunned, allowing Jon to crawl free.

He limped toward the stream where he'd been fishing earlier that morning. Each step sent fire through his knee, but he forced himself forward.

Bai Feng appeared in front of him, moving too fast for Jon to track. "Running away, outlander? I expected more."

A palm strike caught Jon in the chest, directly on his broken ribs. The pain was blinding. He fell to his knees, coughing blood.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Bai Feng took another draw from his pipe, the smoke forming even more complex patterns as it drifted between him and his recovering tiger. "This grows tiresome."

Through the haze of pain, Jon watched the smoke. The patterns weren't random—they were symmetrical, balanced. When the tiger moved right, the left side of the formation compensated. When Bai Feng breathed in, the central pattern expanded.

It was a feedback system. Jon had built simpler versions in engineering labs back on Earth. Input, output, constant adjustment.

The pipe wasn't just channeling qi. It was synchronizing two separate entities.

Bai Feng raised his hand for a finishing blow. Jon couldn't dodge, couldn't block. His body had nothing left.

But his mind did.

As Bai Feng's strike descended, Jon gathered the last of his strength and did something completely unexpected. He lunged forward—not away from the attack, but toward Bai Feng. His fingers reached out, not for the cultivator, but for the pipe.

Bai Feng's eyes widened in surprise. His strike connected with Jon's shoulder, shattering the joint. Jon screamed but didn't stop. His fingers brushed the jade pipe, channeling a desperate burst of electrical qi directly into it.

For a split second, nothing happened.

Then Jon saw it—a hairline crack in the jade, barely visible to the naked eye. But it was there, disrupting the perfectly balanced system the pipe maintained.

The smoke pattern wavered, distorting like a reflection in troubled water. The tiger faltered mid-step, suddenly unsure. And for the first time since their battle began, Bai Feng's face showed something other than confidence.

Fear.

The hairline crack in the jade pipe spread like ice over a frozen lake. Jon's electrical qi raced through it, seeking the path of least resistance.

Bai Feng staggered back, his eyes wide. "What have you—"

The pipe's perfect harmony collapsed. Its carefully balanced qi patterns shattered, sending feedback rippling between Bai Feng and his tiger. The beast roared in confusion, shaking its massive head.

Jon couldn't capitalize on the moment. His shattered shoulder sent waves of agony through his body. He collapsed to one knee, blood dripping from a dozen wounds. His ribs ground against each other with each shallow breath.

Bai Feng recovered first. "Clever trick," he spat, tossing the cracked pipe aside. "But ultimately pointless."

With a gesture, he summoned the tiger back to his side. The connection was weaker now, but still present. The beast moved jerkily, its synchronization with its master imperfect without the pipe to focus it.

Jon tried to stand, but his leg buckled. He caught himself on his good arm, panting. Around them, the village was in chaos. Fires had broken out in three places. Screaming villagers ran in every direction. Overhead, Han and the princess continued their devastating battle, neither gaining a clear advantage.

"You've earned a quick death, at least," Bai Feng said, his tone almost respectful. He raised his hand, gathering qi for a finishing blow.

A blur of tan and white shot out from between two collapsed market stalls. Big Dawg, Jon's Shiba Inu, launched himself at the tiger with reckless abandon.

"No!" Jon shouted, but it was too late.

Big Dawg sank his teeth into the tiger's ear, hanging on as the much larger beast roared and shook its head. The distraction was minor—a fly attacking an elephant—but it broke Bai Feng's concentration.

The white-haired cultivator snarled in annoyance. "Your mongrel dies first, then."

Jon forced himself upright. The pain was blinding, but he pushed through it. The tiger was thrashing now, trying to dislodge Big Dawg, who somehow maintained his grip, growling fiercely.

Bai Feng raised his hand toward the animals. Jon saw his chance.

He lunged forward, ignoring the grinding of bone in his shoulder and the white-hot pain in his knee. His good hand shot out, snatching the discarded pipe from the ground. The crack had widened, the jade warm and unstable under his fingers.

The distraction worked. Bai Feng's eyes flicked to Jon, then back to the animals. A moment's hesitation as he decided which threat to address first.

Jon drove his thumb into the crack in the pipe, channeling every scrap of qi he had left into it. Not refined, not controlled—just pure, desperate energy.

The pipe shattered like a bomb.

Fragments of jade exploded outward. Several embedded themselves in Bai Feng's face and neck, drawing blood. The blast of released energy knocked everyone back—Jon, Bai Feng, the tiger, and Big Dawg.

Jon hit the ground hard. Something else broke inside him—another rib, maybe worse. Blood filled his mouth. His vision dimmed at the edges.

The tiger screeched in sudden pain, its connection to Bai Feng not just weakened now but violently severed. Without the harmonizing influence of the pipe, the feedback loop had become a death sentence. The beast thrashed on the ground, foam forming at its jaws as its qi ran wild through its meridians.

Big Dawg, somehow unharmed, circled the convulsing tiger, barking furiously.

Bai Feng staggered to his feet, blood streaming from a dozen tiny wounds where jade fragments had struck him. "My spirit beast," he gasped. "What have you done?"

Jon forced himself to stand one last time. His body was a symphony of pain, but he had one final move. The tiger was dying already, its qi system collapsing without proper synchronization. Its convulsions weakened as its life force began to fade.

"Call off your dog," Bai Feng demanded, his voice shaking with rage and pain.

Jon ignored him. He limped forward, placing himself between Big Dawg and the white-haired cultivator. "Good boy," he mumbled to his dog. "Stand back now."

The tiger's eyes found Jon's. There was suffering there, confusion. It hadn't asked for this connection, hadn't chosen this fate. Jon felt a stab of pity for the creature.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Then he gathered the last fragments of his qi, shaping it into a blade of pure electrical energy around his hand.

With a single, swift motion, he drove his palm into the tiger's chest. The qi blade pierced its heart cleanly. The beast shuddered once, then went still, its suffering ended.

Bai Feng screamed. Not in pain, but in rage. The death of his spirit beast sent a backlash through whatever connection remained between them. He dropped to his knees, blood pouring from his nose and ears as his own qi system struggled to compensate for the sudden void.

"You... you..." He couldn't form words, his face contorted with hatred and agony.

Jon turned to face him, swaying on his feet. Blood soaked the left side of his body. His right arm hung useless. His knee threatened to give out with each heartbeat. But he stood his ground.

"It's over," he managed.

Bai Feng lunged at him, moving on pure fury rather than technique. Jon had no strength left to dodge. He braced for the impact.

It never came.

Big Dawg, loyal and fearless, shot between them, snapping at Bai Feng's ankles. The cultivator stumbled, his attack disrupted.

Jon seized the moment. He channeled his final reserves of qi—not into a weapon, but into his perception. Time seemed to slow. He saw Bai Feng's meridians, disrupted and chaotic from the backlash of his tiger's death. He saw the point where the energy bottlenecked, where qi fought against itself in destructive interference.

Perfect.

Jon's palm struck Bai Feng's chest. Not a powerful blow—he had no strength left for that—but a precisely placed one. His fingers found the exact meridian junction where the cultivator's qi was already in chaos.

Jon pushed.

Bai Feng's eyes widened as his own qi turned against him. The energy backflowed through his system, meridians rupturing one after another like bursting pipes. He opened his mouth to scream, but only blood came out.

He collapsed, twitching, his once-immaculate white robes now stained crimson.

Jon staggered back, his own vision narrowing to a pinpoint. He'd won, but at what cost? His body was broken. His qi reserves completely depleted. He couldn't even stand anymore.

He sank to his knees beside his dog. Big Dawg whined, licking at Jon's bloodied face.

"Good boy," Jon whispered. "Really good boy."

Bai Feng lay on his back, still alive but incapacitated. Blood trickled from the corners of his mouth, but his eyes remained fixed on Jon with pure hatred.

"The Unorthodox Faction," he wheezed, "will hunt you to the ends of the earth for this."

Jon didn't have the strength to respond. The world was growing dim. The sounds of battle overhead seemed farther away now.

As darkness crept in from the edges of his vision, he felt strong hands grip him under the arms. Someone was lifting him, trying to carry him away from the battlefield. He caught a glimpse of unfamiliar robes, smelled an herbal scent he didn't recognize.

"Who—" Jon tried to ask, but his voice failed him.

Big Dawg barked anxiously as Jon was pulled away through the chaos.

Then darkness took him.