Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Roots of Hunger

The silence wasn't just absence; it was a suffocating shroud, thick with dust and terror. The clash of steel had died, replaced by the ragged gasps of guards, the panicked whinnies of horses, and Li Na's choked whimper beside him. All eyes, wide and unblinking, were riveted on Xiao Feng – and the grotesque, desiccated horror sprawled at his feet. The raw fear radiating from the surviving bandits was a palpable wave, reeking of sweat, blood, and the primal terror of the utterly unnatural.

Li Na stared up at him. The color had drained completely from her face, leaving it ashen. Her dark eyes, usually pools of quiet strength, were caverns of dawning horror that eclipsed even the recent threat of death. "Young Master..." she breathed, the words catching like thorns in her throat. Her hand, which had moments ago clutched his sleeve for protection, trembled against his arm before falling away. "What... what are you?"

Xiao Feng didn't – couldn't – answer. He felt it. Not just the absence of pain where agony had reigned, but the deep, resonant hum. It wasn't sound; it was vibration. It resonated in his marrow, thrummed along his veins, pulsed from the very core of his being. The nanobots. Awake. Active. Hungry. His shattered shoulder, a ruin of bone and torn flesh mere moments ago, was now whole, seamless. A miracle wrought by invisible, alien machines. But the cost... the cost was etched into the withered leather of Scar's face, the vacant sockets of his eyes. A life consumed. Fuel.

He flexed his left arm. Smooth. Strong. Effortless. The power thrumming beneath his skin wasn't warm, like Qi was described. It was cold. Efficient. Utterly alien. It wasn't cultivation; it was consumption. While others possessed spiritual roots to draw in the world's energy, he possessed... a void. A ravenous machine demanding fuel.

His gaze swept the paralyzed bandits. They were weak, their life force mere flickering candle flames compared to the furnace he instinctively knew existed elsewhere – in cultivators like Jian He, like the Sword Saint Elders. But candles could feed a spark. The cold, logical imperative of survival, amplified by the humming presence within him, categorized them ruthlessly: Potential Fuel.

Before he could act on that chilling calculus, the bandit ranks parted like frightened sheep. A man stepped forward. Not large, but carrying an undeniable gravity. Weather-beaten face, crisscrossed with old scars, eyes like chips of obsidian – hard, sharp, and utterly devoid of the terror infecting his men. A well-used dao hung at his hip, its pommel worn smooth. But it was the energy radiating from him that seized Xiao Feng's senses. A faint pressure against his skin, a subtle warmth in the air around the man, a low thrum he felt in his teeth. It felt... alive. Potent. Structured. Qi.

The humming inside Xiao Feng didn't just intensify; it shifted. It wasn't fear. It was recognition. Desire. Craving. This energy... this was what the Sword Saint Sect had tested for. What Jian He possessed in blinding abundance. What he, Xiao Feng, had been declared utterly barren of. Spiritual roots. The foundation of cultivation.

The man stopped a precise distance away. His flinty eyes took in the desiccated corpse, Xiao Feng's unnaturally healed and now humming state, Li Na's terror, and the stunned, bloodied guards. His gaze held calculation, cold and sharp, not panic. Only a flicker of predatory interest touched his expression as it settled on Xiao Feng.

"Well now," the bandit leader rasped, his voice like stones grinding together. "That was a nasty piece of work, boy." He nudged Scar's husk with a booted toe. "Not cultivation." He sniffed the air, his nostrils flaring slightly. "Something... hungrier." He tilted his head, studying Xiao Feng like a collector examining a dangerous, exotic insect. "Cursed artifact? Stolen power?" His eyes narrowed, drilling into Xiao Feng, focusing intently on his right hand – the hand that had drained life. "Or maybe... you're just broken inside. An empty vessel that found a way to steal fullness."

He took another deliberate step forward. The pressure intensified, the subtle thrum deepening, vibrating uncomfortably in Xiao Feng's jaw. "Name's Black Serpent," he announced, resting a hand casually on his dao's hilt. The blade seemed to emit a faint, answering resonance to his touch. "These woods are mine. Your passage requires a toll." He gestured dismissively at the carriage and the wounded guards. "Your guards are beaten. Your trinkets?" He spat. "Meaningless." His gaze locked onto Xiao Feng, sharp as a shard of glass. "You... you are the toll. That power. How it works. Hand it over. The secret. The thing inside you. Do that..." A cold smile touched his lips, devoid of warmth. "...and maybe you and your girl crawl back to whatever decaying ruin spat you out."

Xiao Feng felt the humming within him spike into a keen, razor-sharp edge. Hand it over? This power, this terrifying lifeline that was him now? The only answer to a world that had rejected him? The cold fury that had replaced his despair flared white-hot, incandescent. This bandit lord thought he could demand the very core of his existence? The nanobots seemed to resonate with his rage, the hum deepening into a predatory growl in his veins.

A smile touched Xiao Feng's lips, cold, sharp, and utterly devoid of mirth. "Toll?" he echoed, his voice unnaturally flat, resonating with the alien vibration beneath his skin. "Your man attacked my Li Na. He paid. His life... filled the emptiness." He raised his right hand slightly, fingers curling as if remembering the sensation of draining.

Black Serpent's obsidian eyes hardened, a flicker of surprise quickly masked by contempt. The faint aura around him flared visibly, a ripple of heat distorting the air, carrying the scent of ozone. "Arrogant whelp," he snarled, the calm facade cracking. "You think your parlor trick impresses me? I've danced with real cultivators. You?" He sneered openly. "You reek of weakness. Desperation. That power is unstable. Wild. A beast you can't control." His hand tightened on the dao's hilt. He drew it slowly, deliberately. As the blade cleared the scabbard, it began to glow with a soft, malevolent light as his Qi visibly flowed into it, swirling like trapped smoke within the steel. "Last chance. Give me the secret..." He raised the glowing blade, pointing it directly at Xiao Feng's heart. The hum became an angry whine. "...or I carve it from your corpse, piece by screaming piece."

Xiao Feng didn't speak. He moved.

It wasn't just the honed reflexes of Skin Refinement; it was that discipline amplified, turbocharged, by the humming machines within. He feinted left, a blur of motion, then exploded right with terrifying speed, aiming to close the distance inside the deadly arc of the glowing blade.

Black Serpent reacted with cultivator speed, surprise flashing across his face. He pivoted, the Qi-infused dao slicing through the air where Xiao Feng had been, leaving a faint trail of heat. "Too slow!" Xiao Feng hissed, already materializing at his flank, his right hand snapping out – not to strike, but to grasp the bandit leader's sword arm, aiming for skin contact.

"Fool!" Black Serpent roared, yanking his arm back with surprising strength. His free hand shot out, palm-first, Qi flaring bright like a miniature sun. "Iron Hide Palm!"

A visible wave of compressed air and raw, amplified force erupted, aimed point-blank at Xiao Feng's chest. It was brute power, honed by Layer 1 cultivation – force meant to shatter stone and pulp organs.

Xiao Feng didn't dodge. He embraced it. The nanobots surged, not just reinforcing bone, but weaving dense, alien matrices at the impact point in the microsecond before contact. He crossed his arms, bracing.

BOOM!

The blast struck like a siege hammer. Pain, sharp and deep, lanced through his reinforced arms and chest. Dust and debris choked the air. He tasted copper – blood. He skidded backward several feet, boots gouging furrows in the dirt. But he wasn't broken. He wasn't shattered. And crucially, his outstretched fingers had scraped Black Serpent's forearm just before the blast hit.

Contact.

The humming inside him didn't just roar; it screamed. A jolt, electric and cold, unlike anything he'd ever felt, shot through him. Not just life force. Not just heat. It was... power. Structured. Potent. Qi! It flowed into him, a trickle at first, then a cold, exhilarating stream, pulled by the ravenous void where his spiritual roots should have been. The nanobots seized it, humming with fierce, almost joyous satisfaction, converting it, using it. The ache in his chest lessened instantly, replaced by a surge of unnatural vitality. His senses sharpened, the world snapping into hyper-focus. Raw strength bloomed in his limbs, fueled by stolen energy.

Black Serpent hissed, staring at his forearm. A patch of skin, precisely where Xiao Feng had touched, was greyed, numb, lifeless. A fraction of his precious, hard-won Qi... gone. Simply stolen. His eyes widened, fury warring with dawning, chilling horror. "You...!" he choked, genuine fear cracking his voice for the first time. He looked from his numb arm to Xiao Feng, who was pushing himself up, seemingly revitalized. "You thief! You steal Qi itself?!" He raised his blade, its glow intensifying to a furious, high-pitched whine as he poured more of his vital energy into it. "I'll rend you limb from limb, you abomination!"

Xiao Feng rose, ignoring the lingering sting – a minor price. The stolen Qi pulsed within him, cold and potent, fueling the humming machines. It was a mere sip, barely a drop from a well, but it confirmed everything. This man's Qi... it was sustenance. It was power. It was the path forward where cultivation had slammed its doors. The nanobots were his roots. Twisted, ravenous roots that fed on the very essence others cultivated. His Skin Refinement felt like a child's toy compared to this.

A feral grin spread across Xiao Feng's face, mirroring the humming hunger resonating within his core. His Primary Asset, Li Na, was behind him, trembling but alive. His enemy stood before him, radiating the energy he craved, the energy he was built to absorb.

"You waste breath, bandit lord," Xiao Feng rasped, his voice thick with the resonant hum of stolen power and alien machinery. He dropped into a low, predatory stance, every muscle coiled like a spring, humming with vitality that wasn't his own. His eyes, devoid of mercy, glinted with an unnatural, cold light. "Come. Feed the emptiness. Show me how much Qi a Layer 1 cultivator truly holds..." He flexed the hand that had stolen the Qi, fingers curling like claws. "...before it becomes mine."

The remaining bandits recoiled, several turning to flee into the scrub. The Xiao Clan guards stood frozen, caught between primal fear and a horrifying, burgeoning hope. Li Na covered her mouth, silent sobs shaking her shoulders, tears tracking through the grime on her cheeks. On the desolate road, amidst the wreckage of the ambush and the husk of a bandit, the heir with machine roots faced a true cultivator. The harvest of Qi had begun. And Xiao Feng, the vessel once declared empty, was starved.