Song trudged out of the village gates and towards the hunters’ camp before the sun had even risen. The air was crisp, but not yet with the cold edge of late summer.

  The hunters often left early in the morning, or worked late at night, stalking the rabbits, birds, and other small mammals that inhabited the Nakjo plains. Horse and mutton were the main staples of the village, but it never hurt to have some variety.

  Song cursed that he hadn't gotten a chance to test his new qi infused body yet. He’d somehow managed to sleep through the entirety of yesterday. Had he truly been that tired?

  The hunters’ camp was a small collection of lean-tos and weapon racks. Ramshackle, and disorganized, but it could be taken down and moved at a moment’s notice. A campfire burned in the center where a man was cooking a simple breakfast of soybean stew in a small pot. Three others busied themselves over their weapons and arrows. They all wore dark, easy to move in pants and thick fur coats.

  Changpo village had four full-time hunters – Hunters An, Yang, Yu, and Lee. Hunter Yu was from a branch of the great Yu family of Changpo, who were responsible for cultivating herbs and medicines for the village. Though they had the same family name, Hunter Lee didn’t actually have any relation to Song. Lee was from the Sichuan Lee clan, and had moved to Changpo village a decade ago.

  As Song approached, the largest of the hunters turned to face him. Hunter An Iseul was nearly as tall and muscled as Wook, with a face half-scarred from a Demonic Beast’s acid. Her eyes were dark grey pits, with patterns that resembled multiple stars in the corners. Her long black hair was tied in a tight braid that ran down her back and kept out of her eyes by a finely woven headband.

  Song felt a tickle on his back and an uncomfortable skittishness, like he was being stalked by a predator. His step faltered, but he quickly threw the fear away and puffed his chest. He was a man now! And a cultivator!

  “Lee Song,” Iseul stated simply in a deep alto. Her accent had a slight Eastern twang, rather than the smoother tones of one born in the plains. She gave a curt nod, a teacher to a student.

  “Hunter An,” Song said, bowing at the waist, a student to a teacher.

  “The Lee Family Patriarch asked me to watch over his son. Do you know why?”

  Song answered, “because you’re the only Void cultivator in the village.”

  Iseul returned to her work, sharpening a long hunting knife. “Also because he wants me to watch and see if his son has an Inner Demon.”

  Song twitched. “Teacher?”

  She took the knife and tested it against the end of her nail, nodding as it trimmed the edge cleanly. “I’m not your teacher yet. He’s worried that you’re not what you say you are; that you’re a grasswolf in sheep’s clothing.”

  Song gulped, his eyes focusing on her knife as she continued to toy with it.

  “Why’m I telling you this, you might be wondering?” Iseul suddenly spun the knife in the air, catching it by the hilt and pointing it at Song. She leaned forward menacingly and the feeling of eyes drilling between Song’s shoulderblades intensified. “It’s because if you are some being from the Great One’s nightmares, I want you to know that I’m hunting you. It makes the game more interesting when the prey knows it’s prey.”

  The hunter at the fire laughed. “Come on, Iseul, stop teasing the boy.” He tapped the pot. “It’s too early for this. Have you eaten, Song?

  Song stared between the two of them, bereft of words. Iseul’s stern face cracked first, a laugh peeling out from her. “Hah! You should see your face! Did you see his face, Jimin? The big, bad cultivator almost pissed himself!”

  Iseul swept past Song to the fire, grabbing the pot and spilling it into a metal mug. “Did you bring your own mug, boy?”

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  Song, nettled, replied stiffly. “This Student Song admits he did not.”

  Iseul took a small sip, then tsked as the piping hot soybean mush burned her tongue. “You’re boy until you prove otherwise. You may’ve formed your dantian, but you’re still a baby as far as cultivators are concerned.”

  Her finger snapped out, expertly pointing at Song’s acupoints. “Empty meridians, a weak governing vessel, not a single technique, and a body unsuited for your martial path. Any outer disciple or wandering cultivator would eat you for breakfast.”

  She punctuated the remark by drinking deep from her mug and wiping her arm across her lips. “You may think that turning thirteen and forming your dantian makes you an adult, but it’s the deeds that make the man, not his cultivation. Until evil-doers whisper your Dao Name in the dark corners of taverns across the Gangho, you are still a child.”

  Song’s cheeks reddened, and he clenched his fists ineffectually at his side.

  But he didn’t gainsay her. Not just because that would be foolish to do on his first day, but because he wasn’t some idiot young master of the Imperial Capital. Song knew on a base level that she was right.

  That didn’t mean he had to like it. Or that she had to be so rude as to point it out; she could’ve left him some face.

  Iseul finished off her mug and gave it a quick rinse in a nearby wash basin, then walked over to the weapon rack and picked up a long rigid flatbow. “Hmm… this’ll do.”

  She strung it then tossed it at Song, and he scrambled to catch it. He blinked, staring at the unfamiliar stick of wood and string in his hands.

  “Have you ever shot a bow, boy?” Iseul asked.

  Song gripped the bow in his left hand and tested pulling on the string. It felt unfamiliar in his hands, and hurt his fingers. “No, Hunter. I’ve trained my entire life in my family’s Goat Stance. I also know the basic staff and fist forms of Changpo and the Fox’s Footwork.”

  He didn't add that the main branch of his Lee family considered bows to be the weapon of mortal warriors, not cultivators. Most martial artists could easily block arrows, and time spent learning a bow could be better spent improving one's martial arts. They left the famed horseback archery of Nakjo to the non-cultivator warriors of the Lee clan instead.

  “Fox’s Footwork will be helpful.” Iseul nodded. “But the first thing you’ll need to learn is that your Lee Family’s Goat Stance and the basic forms will be worthless to you now.”

  The bow dropped to Song’s side. “What?”

  “Unlike the straightforwardly strong Wood, unyielding Earth, ever-flowing Water, or all-consuming Fire, Void is a subtle element.” Hunter An grabbed her own bow, a massive black longbow made from a Demonic Beast’s horn and strung with a silvery metal. “In a straightforward fight, fist to fist, you’re almost guaranteed to lose.”

  She nocked an arrow, took a deep breath, and then heaved on the string, the movement of the corded muscles of her biceps and back visible even through her thick coat. Iseul sighted down the arrow at a target hanging from a far-off tree, then loosed.

  The arrow traveled faster than even Kkongi could fly, burying halfway through the bullseye. The target snapped back, slamming into the branch holding it, and the entire tree shook from the impact. Iseul nodded as she examined her handiwork, then placed the bow back neatly into its place.

  It was impressive,but Song was pretty sure Wook could've dodged it.

  Was all his work, all his effort, wasted? All that time spent making a fool of himself in the family training ground, and it was for nothing!? This was a worse nightmare than that endless maddening Void!

  Hunter An picked up a bow that matched the plain wood and string weapon in Song’s own hands. “But, what you’ll lack in pure strength, you’ll make up for with wits, planning, and mysterious techniques that no other element can match.”

  Iseul nonchalantly drew the bow without an arrow strung to the string. As she did, a translucent arrow of rippling darkness formed on the notch as though it had always been there. Iseul shot without even looking, the arrow vanishing as soon as it left the string. It reappeared buried fully up to the fletching within the target a hundred paces away. The target barely swayed, seemingly not even realizing it’d been struck. Iseul pursed her lips and gave an appreciative nod. “Void surrounds and connects all things, even your dagger and your enemy's guts.”

  Song stared, open mouthed at the technique.

  Iseul pointed at the bow in Song’s hands. “You won’t be coming with us on hunts until you can hit the target at fifty paces seven times out of ten. Then I’ll accept that you have the potential to be my student.”

  Song stared at the target as the inky arrow slowly vanished, leaving a clean empty hole.

  Perhaps – perhaps all was not lost.