Chapter 35: Chapter 35

Dawn came too early. Like it always did. Like it would continue to do for the rest of Hunter’s probably short life.

The Shadow Legion assembled in the pre-dawn gray. Fifteen people plus Hunter made sixteen total. Supplies packed. Weapons ready. Three days of travel ahead through forest that actively wanted them dead and would probably try multiple creative methods of achieving that goal.

Han had organized them into a marching formation with the efficiency of someone who’d done this a thousand times and refused to accept anything less than military perfection. Experienced members on the outside. New cultivators in the middle. Children protected in the center because apparently they had children now, and children needed protecting even if those children were technically bandits with defined organizational roles and surprisingly detailed risk assessment frameworks.

Hunter stood at the front. Leader position. The spot where he’d have to make decisions and pretend he knew what he was doing and desperately hope nobody noticed he was making it all up as he went along while occasionally consulting an amoral system that lived in his brain.

The merchant, Qiu, appeared next to him. Always appearing like a ghost with ledger-based teleportation powers. Never walking like normal people. Just manifesting whenever financial discussions or doom prophecies were needed.

"No. But do I have a choice?"

"That’s stupidity with organizational responsibilities."

"Same thing from different perspectives." Qiu gestured at the assembled group with merchant appreciation for well-organized chaos. "They’re ready. Nervous but ready. You gave them something to believe in. That matters more than competence."

"I gave them a soul cult with child bandits and questionable logistics. That’s not inspirational. That’s deeply concerning."

And probably multiple crimes in any civilized society, Hunter didn’t add. Pretty sure this would get him arrested anywhere with functioning law enforcement.

"Perspective matters." Qiu smiled with the satisfaction of someone who’d abandoned conventional morality for practical economics. "From their view, you gave them power. Hope. Future. The details are less important than the result when people are desperate."

"The details include children doing crimes with organizational structure and what I’m pretty sure is an actual operations manual."

"Minor crimes. Educational crimes. Very well-planned crimes with proper risk assessments. Wei Lin’s already working on a comprehensive framework with statistical analysis of success probabilities."

"And very thorough. We should all aspire to his level of organizational competence." Qiu’s expression shifted, becoming more serious. Professional mask slipping slightly. "You worry a lot about the children. More than most would."

Hunter blinked. That felt pointed. Like Qiu was fishing for something.

"Of course I worry. They’re children."

"In this world, children grow up fast. Have to." Qiu’s voice carried the weight of experience. Three decades of merchant travel. Seeing things. Learning things. "The lucky ones, the gifted ones with spiritual roots, they’re born into rich families, noble clans, powerful sects. They get protection. Training. Resources. Safety purchased through family strength."

He paused. Looked at Mei directing firewood collection with military precision.

"The unlucky ones? They’re lucky to have food and a roof if they have family at all. Orphans have it much worse. Starvation. Slavery. Death. That’s normal childhood for most people in this world."

Hunter felt his stomach drop. He’d known this world was harsh, but hearing it stated so plainly made it worse somehow.

"And even if everything works out in a child’s favor," Qiu continued, voice dropping lower, "even if they have food and family and basic safety, there’s always the risk. Evil cultivators kidnap children. Turn them into cultivation furnaces. Living batteries to boost their own power. Drain their life force until there’s nothing left but empty husks." He looked directly at Hunter. "Happens all the time. Nobody stops it because the cultivators doing it are too strong to oppose."

Silence. Heavy. Hunter felt sick.

"So when you worry about Mei organizing a junior division," Qiu said quietly, "remember this: she’s safer with you, learning banditry with supervision, than she would be anywhere else in this world. Wei Lin and Little Sparrow have purpose and protection instead of starvation or worse. That’s not corruption. That’s survival. That’s actually kindness in a world that has very little of it."

Hunter stared at his daughter, who was currently directing firewood collection with the seriousness of a general planning military campaigns. Seven and a half years old. Should be playing. Should be safe and innocent and protected.

Instead she was a junior bandit learning organizational crime because that was somehow the best option available in this nightmare world.

"I hate this place sometimes," Hunter said quietly.

"Everyone does. But we survive anyway. That’s all we can do." Qiu’s merchant practicality returned. "Now stop brooding. We have a journey to complete and disasters to avoid. Probably."

Han approached, spear ready, expression serious with military professionalism that suggested he’d never doubted anything in his entire life. "We’re ready to move. Everyone knows their positions. We’ll make fifteen miles today if we maintain pace. Set up camp at sunset. Move again at dawn. Standard traveling procedure."

"And if we encounter spirit beasts?"

"We fight. Defend. Survive. Same as always. Possibly panic briefly but in organized fashion."

"I don’t do reassuring. I do realistic with tactical contingencies." Han’s expression softened slightly, which for him meant his face went from stone to slightly less stone. "But we’ll make it. We’ve survived worse situations with less preparation."

"Yes. Remember the squirrels? Two hundred demon squirrels trying to eat our faces and we won through sheer stubborn refusal to die. This is just walking. Walking is significantly easier than fighting face-eating squirrels."

"Walking through a murder forest that actively wants us dead."

"Still objectively easier than coordinated squirrel attacks. I’ve done the tactical analysis."

Fair point. Hard to argue with squirrel-based logic.

Hunter turned to face the Shadow Legion. Sixteen faces looking at him with varying degrees of confidence, nervousness, and misplaced faith in his leadership abilities. Waiting. Trusting. Believing he wouldn’t get them killed despite all available evidence suggesting he absolutely would get them killed through creative disaster and poor planning.

"Alright," he said, voice carrying across the group with false confidence perfected through practice. "We’re leaving. Three days to the waystation. It’s going to be hard. Dangerous. Probably terrible in ways we can’t currently imagine. But we’re doing it together. As a faction. As family. As whatever weird hybrid organization we’ve accidentally become through poor decisions and desperate circumstances."

He paused. Looked at Mei. At the junior division standing with their tiny leader who’d somehow become the most organized person in the entire faction.

"Including our new junior division. The Shadow Toys R Us Bandits. Who are apparently a thing now despite my objections, despite common sense, and despite everything I thought I believed about appropriate childhood activities."

Light laughter rippled through the group. Tension breaking like ice cracking. People relaxing slightly while maintaining combat readiness because that was their life now.

"Stay together. Watch each other’s backs. Don’t do anything stupid unless Han approves it first through proper tactical assessment." Hunter looked at Han. "Actually don’t approve anything stupid."

"Too late. Already approved this entire journey based on questionable logic and optimistic resource projections."

More laughter. Genuine this time. The kind that came from people who’d accepted their lives were absurd and decided to enjoy it anyway.

"Let’s move out," Hunter said with more confidence than he felt. "Before I change my mind. Or something attacks us. Or both simultaneously while we’re distracted by my crisis of leadership confidence."

The Shadow Legion moved. Sixteen people walking west toward uncertain futures. Toward abandoned waystation. Toward whatever disasters waited with open arms and malicious intent.

That had to count for something.

Morning — First Hours

The forest swallowed them within minutes. Dense trees. Dappled sunlight. The sounds of wilderness: birds, insects, rustling leaves. Beautiful if you ignored the part where spirit beasts lived here and wanted to eat people.

Hunter’s spiritual sense spread out automatically. Foundation Realm cultivation had perks. One was detecting danger before it arrived. Another was not dying immediately when danger ignored the detection and arrived anyway.

The marching formation worked well. Han had drilled it into everyone yesterday. Experienced fighters on perimeter. New cultivators protected in middle. Children safest at center. Everyone knew their role. Everyone moved together.

Like an actual organized group instead of a chaotic mess.

"Master," Tao called from his position on the left flank. "There’s tracks here. Big tracks. What makes tracks this big?"

Han didn’t even look. "Iron-Back Boar. D-rank spirit beast. Aggressive. Territorial. Don’t approach."

"How do you know without looking?"

"Because I’ve been doing this for twenty years and you’ve been doing it for two weeks. Stay alert. Call out anything unusual."

"Everything is unusual! We’re in a murder forest!"

"Then call out anything more unusual than the baseline murder!"

Hunter smiled despite himself. The banter helped. Made things feel less like marching toward death and more like... adventure. Sort of. In a "we’re all going to die but at least it’ll be interesting" way.

Mei walked beside him, doll clutched tight. Silent as always. Just watching everything with those observant eyes.

"You okay?" Hunter asked.

"Scared is normal. You said that. During the squirrels."

"So I’m normal. Just scared normal." She looked up at him. "Are you scared?"

Hunter’s first instinct was to lie. Say no. Project confidence. Be the strong leader.

But this was Mei. She’d see through it instantly. Kid was seven going on seventy.

Seven and a half, his brain corrected automatically.

"Yeah," he admitted. "I’m scared. Terrified, actually. What if something goes wrong? What if I make the wrong call? What if..."

"Then you’ll figure it out. You always do." Her voice had that matter-of-fact certainty that children somehow possessed. "You made four copies of yourself while bleeding. This is just walking. Walking is easier."

"That’s what Han said."

"Han is smart. Listen to Han more."

They walked in comfortable silence. Hunter’s fear didn’t go away. But it felt... manageable. Like something he could carry instead of something carrying him.

[LUNA] SHE’S GOOD AT THIS (◕‿◕✿)

[LUNA] EMOTIONAL SUPPORT

[LUNA] MAKING YOU FEEL BETTER

[LUNA] DAUGHTER ENERGY ♥ Follow current ɴᴏᴠᴇʟs on novel·fiɾe·net

"She’s not my daughter."

[LUNA] YOU KEEP SAYING THAT

[LUNA] SHE KEEPS ACTING LIKE IT

[LUNA] AT SOME POINT YOU NEED TO ACCEPT REALITY

"Reality is complicated."

[LUNA] REALITY IS: SHE CHOSE YOU

[LUNA] YOU CHOSE TO PROTECT HER

[LUNA] DEAL WITH IT (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧

Hunter didn’t respond. Couldn’t respond. Because Luna was right and he didn’t know how to feel about that. Didn’t know how to be a father. Didn’t know if he even qualified.

But Mei’s hand found his. Small fingers wrapping around his larger ones. Like it was natural. Like she’d always done this.

His chest felt tight again. Different tight. Not fear tight. Something else.

He squeezed back gently.