Song snapped the sling-staff forward in a familiar motion, the stone rocketing off into the distance and neatly cracking against the target. Seven other stones lay chipped and broken beneath the tree, which was still shaking slightly from the impact.

  “Do I pass, Hunter An?” Song asked, dropping the staff to his side and turning to her with a questioning look.

  Hunter An stood with her arms crossed, watching him. She wore a long grass cloak today, a garb commonly used by the hunters to help hide their outlines on the flat grasslands. It made her look like a bush.

  Or a grasswolf. Song held back a shiver.

  The other three hunters stood arrayed behind her, sipping soybean paste stew from metal mugs and watching with twinkles of amusement in their eyes. Hunter Lee gave Song a wink.

  “I’m not sure what to think of this. I sent you away with a bow,” An Iseul said, frowning. The scarred side of her face was stiff, giving her scowl a lopsided appearance.

  “You sent me away with a stick and string.” Song gestured at his sling-staff. “See? Stick, and string.”

  The other hunters laughed. Hunter Lee stepped forward and swatted Iseul hard on the back. She didn’t budge. “He got you there, Iseul. And I hear that he proved himself by killing a grasswolf! Let him join us; with all the ruckus we could use another scout right now.”

  “He killed it by breaking my bow. And speaking of which, you owe me a new one, boy.” Iseul stepped forward and swiped the staff from Song’s hands, examining it. He let it go without complaint.

  This time the ‘boy’ barely ruffled Song. He’d earn her approval in due time.

  “The craftsmanship on this is awful,” Iseul muttered. “You hit a target at fifty paces with this??”

  “I made it myself!” Song said politely. Only half true, but he wasn’t going to admit that.

  “And then trained with it for how long, a day? Two at most?” Iseul said, putting a stone in the sling and swinging it about a few times. She stepped up to the line and swung the staff a few times experimentally. Then she stepped forward and her arm blurred.

  The stone shot out sideways, bounced off a tree, then ricocheted past Hunter Yu’s ear just as he lifted his mug to take a drink. He spewed hot bean stew all over Hunter Yang, and the two shouted an aggrieved, “ISEUL!”

  Iseul ignored them, swinging the staff a few more times, her frown deepening. Cold sweat trickled down Song’s back and he ran a hand through his hair. He wasn’t quite sure how much of Hunter An’s joke about watching him for an Inner Demon was true. In his joy and haste to come and prove himself, he’d forgotten that weapons usually took at least a week or so to get used to. Or longer at his normally pathetic pace. And here he’d built and then nearly mastered a new weapon within a day.

  It must look incredibly suspicious to someone as twitchy as An Iseul.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Hunter Lee stepped forward and took the staff from Iseul. He popped a stone in, copied Song’s stance, and gently launched a stone in a lazy arc towards the target. It fell far short, but it at least got close.

  “Not bad,” Hunter Lee mused. “I’ve seen something similar used by the southern Yamanin. Show us again, lad.”

  This time with a hint of trepidation, Song stepped forward and took the staff. He considered flubbing it, but that would look even more suspicious. So he set his feet apart, stuck the butt of the staff forward, then smoothly launched the stone in a Crack Shot.

  The stone pinged perfectly into the bullseye, sending the target rocketing back with a clatter.

  “It looks like you’ve found your path,” Hunter Lee whistled. “I know you were struggling with the bow, and I’ve heard you weren’t the best at staff or fist techniques – but you’ve taken to this sling-staff like a fish to water. Good job, Lee Song.”

  “Please, call this one Song, Hunter Lee,” Song said, grinning up at the cheerful hunter.

  “Call me Jimin, then, since we’re going to be working together,” the old hunter grinned back.

  Iseul examined the target for a bit longer, then rubbed the back of her head angrily before shouting, “Fine. FINE! I guess I’m your teacher now. You’d better not fall behind or talk back, I have no time to deal with the eccentricities of children. Do you understand?”

  Song held his staff in both hands as he bowed. “Of course, Teacher.”

  “Your first lesson, boy, is that danger can strike in the Gangho at any time,” She pointed to where Hunters Yang and Yu were still brushing hot bean paste out of their hair and grass cloaks. “You should always have an eye out, and take nothing for granted, even and especially when you’re at camp.”

  The two hunters shot her a rude gesture.

  Song nodded with understanding. Juwon often said the same thing about herding horses. You never knew when a jackal could strike at a foal, or a gelding suddenly take umbrage at the stallion and decide that maybe it still had its manhood after all.

  “Follow me to your second lesson.” Iseul stalked towards the edge of camp, where a large round had been set. A woodsman's axe made of Imperial steel sat against it, and woodchips covered the nearby grass. An enormous pile of uncut logs were stacked nearby, waiting to be cut into firewood.

  ”One of our jobs as hunters is to gather what firewood we can from the limited trees in the plains. Wood burns hotter and longer than dried dung, so the watchmen and the Yus pay a pretty penny for it.” Iseul hefted the axe as easily as a bow in one hand, then grabbed a log from the pile. She placed it on the round, and with a practiced eye, brought the axe down nearly as quickly as a pebble launched from Song’s staff. The log split neatly down the center; a clean cut.

  “Void cultivators are fast. Void qi will lighten your steps, sharpen your eyes, and hone your reflexes,” She explained, handing the axe to Song. “But it won’t make you much stronger. Or tougher. You’ve focused on your arms, neck, and legs in preparation for the Lee Family Goat Stance, but in ranged combat it’s the shoulders and the back that matter most. What Void qi won’t provide, you’ll need to fill in yourself. That’s why even though Void cultivators are usually the weakest of their peers, they often have the most muscles.”

  Song nodded, noting Iseul’s thick thighs just visible under her grass cloak. Then he blushed and turned his eyes away. He stared at the enormous pile of wood and gulped before squaring his shoulders and stepping forward, axe hefted high.

  “Don’t cut your fingers,” Iseul said, smirking. “We’ll be off scouting and hunting pheasants; they’ve just finished their nesting season, and they’re distracted. Easy prey. When I return I expect to see at least half that pile gone.”

  Then she turned away from her new student and strutted back to the other hunters. “Dae, Shin, are you still cleaning up? Leave it and get your bows! Pheasants don’t care how you smell! Jimin, put that stupid stick down!”

  The hot summer sun blazed down to the sound of chopping and Song’s shoulders soon burned not just from the heat.

  But he never complained, and his efforts never faltered.

  Cutting wood was nothing compared to fighting a grasswolf.

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