Dual Realm Exchange System

The supplies arrived faster than Damian expected.

Heh, money truly was a wonderful lubricant for civilization!

Once Vivienne spread the orders among several potion suppliers instead of trying to wring five thousand Vials out of one unfortunate merchant, carts began coming and going from the Baines residence with almost industrial regularity.

Ronan handled the potion purchases, Stella guarded the transferred merchandise like some territorial dragon that had recently discovered a greatsword, and Vivienne somehow transformed from a mildly overwhelmed young steward into the commander of a small logistics army the moment Damian gave her permission to throw money at problems.

By the time enough of the urgent supplies had arrived for Damian’s purposes, he left the rest to them.

”Keep fulfilling the orders and restock Central Lane according to the plan. I have somewhere important to be.” Damian instructed before disappearing back into his room.

A short while later, the Permanent Realm Passage opened once again as Damian stepped through.

......

Willowbank Front had changed noticeably during his absence.

Jian Rui and the others had not wasted time.

The wounded had been separated according to severity, tents had been reassigned, basic personnel counts were already being compiled and the pathways between treatment areas had been cleared sufficiently that people could actually move without stepping over weapons, bloody cloth or somebody’s sleeping mat.

It was still ugly.

Just... organized ugliness.

Damian gave a preliminary approval of it all before the treatment began.

Basic Holy Water came first for anyone suffering from Corpse Qi infection.

Mild cases received smaller quantities according to need while the truly serious patients were made to drink enough for the holy power to penetrate deep into their bodies and rip the contamination out by its proverbial roots.

One after another, Willowbank Front began filling with shrieks as black smoke poured from mouths, dark veins retreated beneath skin and Corpse Qi leaked from wounds only to sizzle beneath pale-golden holy power.

Several patients vomited concentrated black filth that immediately began evaporating the moment it touched the ground, forcing the nearby disciples to hurriedly retreat.

It was rather disgusting, but also extremely effective.

Once the corruption was purged, Damian moved to the second step, healing!

The difference was absurd.

Cultivators who had spent days slowly dying under Corpse Qi suddenly found the source of their deterioration removed, then had their damaged bodies flooded with restorative magical potions immediately afterward.

Lacerated flesh knitted, internal injuries eased, cracked bones stabilized, damaged meridians recovered and exhausted bodies that had been spending every scrap of vitality resisting corruption finally received enough restoration to properly breathe again.

Even Jian Rui and the other three youngsters gradually began looking uncomfortable, as every bottle Damian opened made their hearts ache.

They knew what those medicines were worth.

A Vial of Healing was valuable enough that sect cultivators who experienced its effects for the first time treated it like some ancient miracle medicine.

Basic Holy Water had just demonstrated that it was practically designed to bully Nightmare Corpse Sect methods.

And Lord Damian was pouring both into disciples who, until several hours ago, had effectively been categorized as battlefield losses awaiting transportation.

Bo Wen watched another severely injured disciple swallow a Healing Vial and felt his cheek twitch.

That one medicine could probably have purchased an excellent Profound Rank Martial Art.

There went another, and another, and another!

Was Lord Damian trying to heal them or assassinate his own wallet?

Still, nobody dared to complain as these were Damian’s own goods.

Whether he sold them for mountains of wealth, gave them to powerful Elders or poured them into a muddy ditch because the ditch looked thirsty was entirely his decision.

The four youngsters could only help.

Less than half an hour after the final major treatment cycle ended, the rally drum sounded again.

This time, the difference was almost ridiculous.

Two hundred and fifty-five Body Tempering disciples assembled before the command platform.

Some stood at the early levels of Body Tempering while others had reached the middle or later stages, but nearly every person present looked healthy enough to fight, work and complain about work afterward.

The same men and women who had limped through camp supported by their companions now stood on their own feet.

Faces that had been grey with Corpse Qi possessed normal color again.

People kept touching their healed wounds and repeatedly circulated blood through previously damaged limbs as though expecting the injuries to suddenly return if they stopped checking.

One disciple flexed his fingers for perhaps the twentieth time, while another kept pressing his palm against his ribs as if expecting pain.

A young woman who had been unable to walk properly earlier suddenly crouched, jumped in place and almost began crying when both legs supported her normally.

They knew who had done this.

Which meant the moment Damian stepped onto the raised platform, two hundred and fifty-five pairs of eyes locked onto him with an intensity that would have made a lesser man wonder whether he was about to be worshipped or eaten.

Damian looked across them.

Hmm... perhaps a speech was expected?

Something powerful about brotherhood, courage, righteous sect honor and sacrificing oneself beneath the heavens?

Yeah... no.

”My name is Damian Baines. Most of you heard that already, but now you can put a face to it properly.” Damian began calmly.

Nobody made a sound.

”I’m an independent Guest Elder of the Evergreen Sect, and I’m temporarily commanding Willowbank Front. I didn’t come here because I have some grand ambition to become a famous war hero, and I’m not going to tell you to happily die for honor either.”

A few expressions changed.

Damian folded his arms. ”My reason is simpler. While I’m here, nobody is allowed to die if it can reasonably be helped. Watching people rot from Corpse Qi ruins my mood, so for the sake of my peace of mind, please make an effort to stay alive.”

Several disciples looked confused, but a few started smiling.

Damian pointed around the camp. ”That said, this place looks terrible. I leave for a few hours and come back to this same collection of crooked tents, broken fences and random piles of equipment, then I am going to become extremely unpleasant.”

The smiles disappeared.

Good.

”You’re healthy now, which means you have hands, so use them. Rebuild the barricades, reorganize the tents, repair the watch platforms, clear proper lanes, establish storage zones, dig drainage and reinforce the perimeter. By the time I return, I want Willowbank Front looking like a respectable forward base rather than a refugee camp that accidentally found weapons.”

The disciples straightened.

Damian’s mouth curved. ”As for me, I’m heading out to do some sniping.”

That earned a few strange looks because they did not know what that meant, but they would learn.

”If I come back and this place still looks like shit, there will be hell to pay. Understood?” Damian demanded.

”UNDERSTOOD, COMMANDER!”

The roar shook the camp.

Damian nodded with satisfaction. ”Good. Get moving!”

Two hundred and fifty-five disciples dispersed with an enthusiasm Willowbank Front had probably not witnessed since its founding.

Some immediately began dismantling poorly positioned tents while others rushed toward timber stores and repair equipment.

Groups formed around damaged barricades while several late Body Tempering disciples started shouting orders before anyone officially asked them to.

Amazing what being dragged back from the edge of death did for workplace motivation, huh?

Damian turned toward his four youngsters.

”You lot are staying here.”

Their enthusiasm disappeared as Jian Rui immediately understood what was coming.

Damian pointed at him first.

”Jian Rui, you’re the Chief Administrative Officer. You will handle general administration, coordination and making sure the other three brats aren’t independently creating four different camps.”

Jian Rui cupped his hands. ”Understood, Lord Damian.”

”Bo Wen, you’re Quartermaster. You will handle supplies, warehouses, food, equipment and anything else involving the question of where the hell our stuff went.”

Bo Wen straightened. ”Yes, Lord Damian!”

”Lin Meiyu, you’re The Herald. You are in charge of all forms of communications and personnel management, including casualties, duty assignments, replacements and keeping track of who is actually fit for battle.”

Lin Meiyu nodded seriously. ”I will handle it properly, Lord Damian.”

Finally Damian looked toward Shen Lian.

”You will be Operations Officer. Your purview is deployment, patrol organization, defensive positioning and field readiness. Don’t launch a war while I’m gone. Just survive any skirmishes.”

Shen Lian’s lips twitched. ”I’ll try my best, Lord Damian.”

”That response somehow worries me more.” Damian responded with a roll of his eyes.

The four almost laughed before Jian Rui noticed something.

”Lord Damian... if we are remaining here, who will accompany you?” He asked slowly and suspiciously.

”Nobody of course.” Damian answered with a smile.

Four faces immediately changed.

”Lord Damian, that is too dangerous. Even if this is the weakest battlefield, the Nightmare Corpse Sect excels at ambushes, and you yourself just heard how many patrols disappear!” Jian Rui protested firmly.

”Exactly. Which is why dragging four Body Tempering cultivators around while I’m trying to hunt people would be counterproductive.” Damian replied without concern.

Bo Wen stepped forward.

”But Lord Damian—”

Damian waved him down.

”I’m not debating this. You have work here, and I have work outside. Besides, if I get into something that genuinely threatens me, what exactly are you four planning to do? Form a human shield?”

That shut down several arguments very quickly.

The emotional parts were still live, of course, but any logical rebuttal had been face planted into the dirt and rubbed around.

Damian soon requisitioned one of the camp’s fastest land mounts.

The creature looked as though a giant roadrunner had committed some questionable acts with a chocobo and produced offspring optimized entirely around the philosophy of legs.

It stood nearly eight feet tall, possessing long muscular limbs, a narrow feathered body, vestigial wings and a thick hooked beak. Its golden-brown plumage transitioned into black along its tail, while the creature’s ridiculous thighs suggested that somewhere deep in its bloodline an ancestor had declared flight inefficient and decided running was superior.

The stable disciple called it a Gale Beakrunner.

Damian called it perfect.

He climbed into the saddle as Jian Rui and the others followed him toward the camp entrance with expressions caught somewhere between concern and resignation.

”I’ll be back. Try not to become tyrants while I’m away.” Damian remarked.

”Lord Damian, please remain careful.” Lin Meiyu requested softly.

Damian gave them a lazy wave before the Gale Beakrunner launched forward, dust exploding beneath its feet.

Within seconds, Damian was racing away from Willowbank Front while four young cultivators watched the cloud trailing behind him.

Shen Lian exhaled. ”He’s... really gone.”

Jian Rui looked toward the camp. ”Then we make sure he returns to something worth commanding.”

The four turned around, knowing that there was much work to be done.

......

The battlefield surrounding Willowbank Front was much larger than the camp itself.

Damian entered the forested region bordering the contested river route while allowing his to expand freely every so often, sweeping the terrain around him before withdrawing again.

He sensed countless trees, rocks, hidden gullies, small animals, broken weapons, bloodstains and carcasses.

Especially, the carcasses.

Some belonged to ordinary animals, while others came from Fierce Beasts, creatures whose strength broadly corresponded to Body Tempering cultivators.

What interested Damian was the distribution.

For every corpse he found that had been killed, properly butchered and stripped of useful meat, hide, bone or other materials, he encountered roughly ten showing signs of Corpse Qi contamination.

Some lightly corrupted carcasses had still been harvested, apparently because a sufficiently hungry or practical cultivator saw a little demonic contamination and thought, ’eh, cut around that part’.

The heavily infected corpses were different and were usually abandoned.

Damian quickly discovered why.

One dead beast had already rotted to an absurd degree despite apparently dying recently.

Its flesh had turned dark, the blood had thickened into something resembling tar and Corpse Qi crawled through its body in faint black threads.

Another carcass nearby had been partially eaten, but the unfortunate predator responsible had not gone far.

Damian found it beneath a tree, surrounded by vomit and claw marks where it had apparently spent its final moments convulsing in agony.

Its own corpse was beginning to change.

What a wonderful effect on the ecosystem Corpse Qi had.

As Damian continued, one of the heavily corrupted Fierce Beast carcasses suddenly twitched, causing the Gale Beakrunner to nearly throw him from the saddle as it tried to retreat.

Damian calmed it while watching the dead creature jerk upright.

Its neck hung at an impossible angle and half of one flank had been eaten away, yet Corpse Qi filled the missing function of muscles and organs, dragging the corpse onto all fours as cloudy red light appeared inside its dead eyes.

Damian inspected it, noting that it was around Level 1 Body Tempering in effective strength, totally and utterly weak by all and any account.

Any competent Body Tempering disciple could kill it, but that was not the problem.

The problem was that the damned thing was fucking horrifying to look at, made noise, carried infection and could appear behind someone during an already chaotic battle.

All it needed to do was distract a disciple for half a second, then the actual Nightmare Corpse Sect cultivator hiding nearby could easily stab him.

Damian looked upward.

Through gaps in the canopy, he could see a thin layer of dark haze hanging over the wider forest.

So the camp had not been special.

Corpse Qi had been accumulating throughout the entire Willowbank region.

It was faint and dispersed, but constant.

Nightmare Corpse Sect disciples benefited simply by operating within it.

Their bodies and methods were adapted to the environment while Evergreen Sect disciples suffered the opposite problem.

Breathing became heavier, ordinary senses dulled and the atmosphere itself pressed against the mind.

Worse, Body Tempering cultivators had no Spirit Sense, so they could not sweep forests for hidden enemies.

Meanwhile, the omnipresent Corpse Qi masked the traces of Nightmare Corpse Sect cultivators extremely well.

They could sit inside the haze, remain still and become another unpleasant stain inside an already unpleasant environment.

Damian clicked his tongue.

”Tsk, tsk. No wonder those casualty numbers were terrible.”

His expanded again, and this time, he found people.

Seven of them, in fact.

They were spread among several trees ahead, positioned high enough to observe the narrow game trail Damian was currently following.

Nightmare Corpse Sect disciples, the weakest of whom felt around Body Tempering Level 3 and the strongest roughly Level 7, all had weapons ready.

And judging by the black sheen clinging to several blades...

Corpse Qi.

Damian’s lips slowly curved.

Oh?

His first customers were here!

The Gale Beakrunner continued forward while Damian extended his attention toward the hidden group.

They had no idea he could perceive them.

Even better, his enhanced senses allowed him to hear their whispered conversation once he came sufficiently close.

”He’s alone!”

”Quiet, idiot! We can all see that.”

”Look at that mount! An ordinary outer disciple couldn’t afford something like that.”

”Then he’s probably one of their pampered talents, which is better for us.”

A narrow-faced Nightmare Corpse Sect disciple crouched against a branch while licking his lips.

”Kill him, take the Storage Bag and the bird, then disappear before the Grass Munchers notice.”

The strongest among them did not immediately agree.

He watched Damian carefully. ”Something feels wrong.”

Another disciple frowned. ”What?”

”Why is he alone?”

”Because righteous sect disciples are arrogant morons?”

Several quietly laughed.

The leader remained unconvinced.

”Maybe. But he’s too relaxed.”

One of the younger men scoffed.

”So what? There are seven of us. Even if he’s Body Tempering Level 8, Brother Hei can hold him while we strike. One cut is enough.”

”Exactly. We don’t even need to kill him quickly. Once Corpse Qi enters his body, he’ll weaken.”

Another voice joined eagerly.

”And that bird is definitely worth something. I want its legs.”

Damian almost felt offended on behalf of his temporary mount as the ignorant Gale Beakrunner continued trotting beneath him.

Seven pairs of eyes followed Damian slowly, eagerness on their faces.

A disciple slowly drew a short blade.

”Wait until he passes that dead cedar.”

The strongest man narrowed his eyes. ”Then strike together. Nobody chases if he escapes the first encirclement.”

”Understood!”

They waited until Damian almost passed the cedar in question.

The ambushers tensed, ready to strike the moment the line was crossed!

But... three seconds passed, then five.

One of them frowned. ”Why haven’t we attacked?”

The leader’s expression changed greatly because the rider was gone!

The Gale Beakrunner had stopped several dozen meters away and was turning its long neck from side to side with a deeply confused expression, apparently wondering where the human sitting on its back had disappeared to.

The seven Nightmare Corpse Sect disciples stared toward the empty saddle, their minds stalling in confusion.

Then a cheerful voice came from directly behind them.

”What the heck, the guy’s disappeared!”

”WHAT?!”

All seven snapped their heads toward the Gale Beakrunner.

Indeed, there was nobody there, and the bird looked just as puzzled as they were.

For one beautiful second, the entire ambush party collectively tried to understand where their victim had gone.

Then several slowly realized something.

Who...

Who had just spoken?

Their faces stiffened.

Very, very slowly, the seven Nightmare Corpse Sect disciples began turning around.

Damian Baines stood on the branch behind them with his arms folded, smiling like he had just found free money.