The old man's hand moved.
A jade slip appeared from nowhere. Green light shimmered across its surface. Then blue radiance shot from the slip and divided into fifty beams.
Marcus felt the beam pierce his forehead. No pain. Just information flooding his consciousness like water through a broken dam.
Language. Grammar. Meaning.
The cultivator's words suddenly made sense.
"Hello dear friends." The old man's voice was smooth. Too smooth. "I am Elder Shen Lou of the Primordial Dao Sect. We were passing through when we found you mortals here in the Primeval Forest."
His smile didn't reach his eyes.
"Some of you have good seedling potential for cultivation." His tone sharpened. "If you are willing to join our sect."
Silence followed.
Marcus watched the old man's face. The gentle expression. The patient smile. But his eyes held something else. Something cold.
Hostility.
Around him people started whispering. Excited. Hopeful. They saw salvation.
Marcus saw a predator.
Alex leaned close. "What do you think?"
"There's a problem." Marcus kept his voice low. "If we agree only those who qualify will join. The rest get left behind."
Captain Max stepped forward. He bowed deeply. "Elder can you take all of us..."
Pressure slammed down.
Max crashed to the deck. His knees cracked against the wood. His face pressed flat.
A beautiful female cultivator beside Elder Shen spoke. Her voice was ice. "Filthy insects. How dare you speak back to the elder without permission."
Elder Shen raised one finger.
The other cultivators moved. One blink. They surrounded the group.
Pressure crushed down on everyone.
Marcus's knees buckled. He slammed into the deck. The wood bit into his skin. His lungs compressed. Breathing became work.
Gravity had multiplied. His body weighed tons.
The cultivators moved through the group. Separating people. Taking the women first. Then more than half the men including Alex.
Marcus tried to move. His muscles screamed. His bones felt like they would crack.
Alex's eyes found his. Wide with fear.
Then the cultivators lifted into the air. Their captives floated beside them like dolls on strings.
Screams echoed across the forest. Pleas for help. Cries of terror.
The pressure vanished.
Marcus surged to his feet. His fists clenched so hard his nails cut into his palms. Blood dripped between his fingers.
The cultivators were dots in the sky. Then nothing.
His vision blurred red. Rage burned in his chest like molten metal. Helplessness tasted like bile.
Wait you fuckers. The words screamed in his mind. Primordial Dao Sect. I will remember.
Captain Max approached. His face was pale. Sweat drenched his forehead. "Sir Marcus. We don't know what they'll do to our people."
His voice shook. "Only ten of us remain. You. Me. Eight guards. Why did they take all the females?"
Marcus wanted to punch him. The captain's poor communication had triggered this. But he swallowed the anger.
Max was just doing his duty. Nobody could have known the customs of this world.
Marcus took a deep breath. "They're gone. We need to survive first. Then we find them."
Max nodded. Grateful for the direction.
"We map the area." Marcus's voice was steel. "Two teams. Five each. You lead one. I lead the other. Meet back at noon."
They scattered into the forest.
Noon came. All ten returned. No injuries. No deaths.
Marcus exhaled relief.
They gathered in the main hall. Shared their findings.
"South side." One guard spoke. "Giant spider. Two stories tall. Guards that entire direction."
"West is a giant bear." Another added.
"North has wolf packs."
"East is a red patterned tiger."
Captain Max's face fell. "We're surrounded. Every direction is death."
Marcus drew a rough map on paper. Marked each beast territory. Then he saw it.
"We're in a gray zone." His finger traced the overlapping borders. "Right where all four territories meet. That's why we're still alive. We're in neutral ground."
Max leaned over the map. "Then how do we escape?"
"We need more information. Scout further tomorrow. Find a gap."
Evening came.
Marcus stood at the window. Watched the sun paint the massive trees orange.
Something felt wrong. A pressure in his chest that wouldn't leave.
He found Max. "The cultivators will send someone to finish us."
Max frowned. "Why? We're no threat."
"We saw them. Know their sect name. We're loose ends." Marcus met his eyes. "And they want the ship. I saw how Elder Shen looked at it."
Max's face hardened. "Then we prepare."
They spent the night readying weapons. Positioning guards. Loading every gun they had.
Meanwhile thousands of meters in the air Elder Shen Lou flew toward his sect. The beautiful female cultivator Outer Elder Jia nestled against him.
"Are you planning to leave those mortals alive?" She traced her finger across his chest. "Since when are you kind and noble?"
Elder Shen smiled. His hand slid down her back. "Don't worry A Jia. I already sent disciples to wipe them out."
His smile turned cruel. "And I want that ship. I've never seen anything like it. It will make a fine addition to my collection."
"Why did you take all the mortal females? The sect doesn't allow mortals to enter."
"They're playthings for our disciples. Stress relief after the mission." He pulled her closer. "Any who survive will be sold to brothels. Most are top quality beauties. They'll fetch good prices at auction."
Jia laughed. The sound was sharp and cold.
Midnight.
Marcus heard it first. The sound of air being torn apart. Getting closer.
"Positions." He whispered.
Everyone moved to their assigned spots inside the ship. Weapons ready. Breathing shallow.
Three figures descended on flying swords. They approached slowly. Casually.
The leader was at the second stage of Foundation Establishment. The other two were first stage.
One spoke to the leader. "Brother Zhao they're hiding inside. Why not just crush the ship?"
"Elder wants the ship intact." Zhao's voice carried disdain. "You two go inside. They're just mortals. Flush the rats from their hole."
One cultivator landed on the deck. His footsteps echoed through the ship.
Marcus cursed silently. Why are they coming one by one? Our ambush works best with all three.
The footsteps grew closer. Each one made Marcus's heart pound harder.
The cultivator appeared in the main hall doorway. Young. Arrogant. Smiling.
"Come out rats." He laughed. "Come get a swift death. Or I'll torture you one by one."
Silence answered him.
His smile vanished. "Mere mortals not listening to their master?"
He stepped into the center of the hall.
A flash grenade landed at his feet.
Light exploded. Blinding. Deafening.
Then thunder.
Submachine guns erupted from every direction. Bullets tore through the air in a metal storm.
The cultivator's eyes went wide. He dodged the first few shots. His body moved faster than Marcus thought possible.
But he was surrounded.
A bullet punched through his back. Drilled into his flesh. Stopped beneath the skin.
Pain he'd never felt before.
He drew his sword. Deflected bullets from one side. But they came from everywhere.
More bullets found him. Chest. Arms. Legs. Each one tore through his defenses.
Dozens of rounds peppered his body. He became a sieve.
A bullet hit his eye. Destroyed it completely.
He fell.
The magazines clicked empty. Guards reloaded with practiced speed.
Outside Zhao heard the flash bang. Then gunfire.
His companion spoke. "Is he crazy? That noise will attract every beast nearby."
Something felt wrong.
Zhao shot toward the ship. Landed at the hall entrance.
His fellow Daoist lay in a pool of blood. Still breathing but barely.
"Attack!" Zhao and the other cultivator charged forward. Swords drawn.
Marcus and Max opened fire. Emptied their magazines. Then ran in opposite directions.
Both cultivators moved in a blur. Their swords deflected every bullet. They formed a circle around their fallen companion.
Zhao checked his pulse. Alive. Barely.
He pulled a pill from his bottle. Fed it to the wounded cultivator.
Then he smiled. "What weapons are these? Even injuring a Foundation Establishment cultivator."
Greed filled his eyes. "Whatever they have will be mine."
Marcus gave the signal.
The makeshift bombs detonated.
Gas cylinders converted into explosives. Positioned throughout the main hall.
The floor bent upward beneath Zhao's feet. He pulled out a defensive talisman. His entire savings spent on this single treasure.
He activated it.
The explosion consumed the hall.
Fire engulfed the ship. Smoke and debris filled the air.
The wounded cultivator died instantly. The other was gravely injured. Only Zhao emerged intact behind his talisman's barrier.
Marcus and Max split up. Flanked from both sides. Weapons ready.
Zhao's hands shook. Fear crept into his chest. These lowlifes nearly killed me.
Captain Max's team opened fire.
Zhao dodged and blocked. Kept his distance. His movements were slower now. More cautious.
Marcus's team found the injured cultivator. Fired continuously.
The cultivator defended desperately. Then his eyes went wild. Desperate.
He charged straight at Marcus.
His speed was reduced. Injury slowing him down.
Marcus aimed for his feet. Fired.
The cultivator tried to dodge. Failed. Bullets tore into his legs.
He kept coming. Used his most powerful technique.
Sky Sword Sutra. Second Stage. Sword Rain.
Multiple energy swords materialized. Shot forward like projectiles.
Marcus fired. One bullet hit the cultivator's right eye. Another struck his face.
The technique went wild. Missed its target.
But not completely.
Three guards were pierced. Their bodies exploded into fragments. Blood and viscera painted the deck.
Marcus pulled his revolver. Fired point blank at the cultivator's head.
The bullets couldn't penetrate the skull. But the impacts drove the cultivator to his knees.
Consciousness faded from his eyes.
Marcus grabbed the fallen sword. Swung hard.
The blade cut through the neck. The head rolled.
Meanwhile Max's team was dying.
Zhao had killed three more guards. Max and one guard remained. Both gravely wounded.
Then the forest erupted.
A roar shook the trees. Something massive was coming.
A bear burst through the treeline. Three stories tall. Golden brown fur rippling with muscle.
It glanced at the humans. Dismissed them.
Its eyes locked on Zhao.
The cultivator and beast clashed. Sword techniques met raw power. They were evenly matched.
Marcus saw his chance.
He ran to Max's position. Found carnage.
Max lay in a pool of blood. One arm was gone. His breathing was shallow. Wet.
"Max." Marcus knelt beside him. Applied pressure to the wounds.
Blood poured between his fingers. Too much blood.
Max coughed. Only blood came out.
He pulled out a letter with his remaining hand. "Marcus. I'm done. My daughter Sophie. If you make it back. Give this to her."
His hand went limp. The letter fell.
Marcus caught it. "Max. Stay with me."
But Max's eyes were already empty.
The remaining guard died seconds later.
Marcus stood. Three survivors out of fifty.
He looked at Zhao in the distance. Fighting the bear. Memorized his face.
Primordial Dao Sect.
He would remember.
The bear roared. Zhao screamed his technique.
"West. Now." Marcus's voice cut through the chaos.
The two guards followed without question.
They ran while the bear and cultivator were distracted.
Marcus didn't look back.
Behind him the ship burned. The bodies cooled.
And Marcus learned the first lesson of the cultivation world.
Weakness had a price.
And he'd just paid it in full.