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3.24 - Ranked Duel
🕑 Added 2024-06-06 22:00:01 +0000 UTCFrom across the dueling arena, Mo Zhiqiang’s presence expanded. It had become far more well-defined since their last fight, taking on the impression of a waterfall plunging down the side of a mist-enshrouded cliff. A spray of water rose from the pool below, and a light breeze carried the scent of spring.
The head of Mo Zhiqiang’s spear blurred with the same wind-aspected technique he’d used in their first duel. Not only was the technique formed with more control, but Mo Zhiqiang himself was far more confident in his stance. It seemed he’d been busy.
He Yu released his own spirit in answer. The winds tugged at the hem of his outer robe, gentle at first then rising in their intensity. The air became electric, tiny sparks of heaven flickering along the length of his guandao. As his spirit expanded, it carried the sensation of a late afternoon thunderstorm ready to break open the sky. That sensation held merely the promise of what was to come—and this duel was a step towards seeing that promise fulfilled.
Both cultivators surged forward, carried by their movement techniques. During that first exchange, He Yu was able to take his opponent’s measure in the clashing of steel. Mo Zhiqiang had certainly improved. He fought more seriously now, and with greater skill. In a way, He Yu was actually grateful for it. He wanted to be pushed, even in a fight that he was expecting to win. Sure, he’d picked Mo Zhiqiang to make a statement, but that was secondary to his advancement.
Despite Mo Zhiqiang’s accomplishments over the winter, he still hadn’t reached the peak of Body Refining. His presence wasn’t as refined as He Yu’s, and it was evident in that first exchange that he hadn’t formed a Wayborn Seed. Of course that didn’t mean He Yu was going to go easy on him. Zhang Lifen had told him to fight with all his power, even in practice and in duels. More importantly, would a hero truly be so arrogant and disrespectful as to hold back against an opponent of the same realm? Not in He Yu’s eyes.
The rightness and ease brought by his Wayborn Seed settled over him as the thought flickered through his mind like nascent lighting. A flash of insight from the Cloud Emperor’s Peerless Judgment confirmed a truth he’d been shown several times now—there was no guide for his path other than himself. The questions he’d been preoccupied with over the past year and a half at the sect were questions for him to answer. If he believed that the measure of a hero was to show respect by fighting with all his strength, then that’s what he would do.
He Yu attacked in a series of sweeps and thrusts, the churning currents of the Five Crescent Winds trailing flickers of lightning behind his guandao. The Empyrean Ninefold Body Tempering gave him strength and speed alike, and his assault put Mo Zhiqiang on the back foot with his first flurry of strikes.
The vermilion tassel at the end of Mo Zhiqiang’s spear swirled. The noble advanced in a series of thrusts, making good use of his weapon’s reach. His attacks were fluid and elegant, and each one carried an echo of wind along with it. The spear’s head blurred and multiplied, and He Yu found himself fending off what seemed like a dozen strikes at once as the echoes of each attack built upon one another.
He Yu activated the Cloud Emperor’s Peerless Judgment and touched his Way. The strange cultivation technique’s ability to show him the truth of things did its job—he could grasp the shape of Mo Zhiqiang’s strikes before even his instincts honed by both Ren Huang and Old Guo’s training could react. The months of meditation on that exquisite moment of using the Spring Rain Mirror in the wilds crystallized into understanding with the help of his Way.
The Spring Rain Mirror flashed into being, but only for an instant. That instant was all it needed. Despite being obscured by Mo Zhiqiang’s technique, the spear struck the disc of water-aspected qi. With an almost imperceptible adjustment, the Spring Rain Mirror shifted, and the spear shifted with it. The wind-aspected echoes of Mo Zhiqiang’s attacks followed.
For an instant the spear was out of position, leaving Mo Zhiqiang open. He Yu adjusted his grip on his guandao and stepped inside his opponent’s guard. With a sweeping, upward strike that churned and sparked, he scored the first real hit of the duel.
Red blossomed in a line across Mo Zhiqiang’s robe. Rather than retreat and regroup as He Yu had expected, Mo Zhiqiang attacked. His spear flashed as he pulled it close and slashed at He Yu with the spearhead’s sharpened edge. He Yu activated the Spring Rain Mirror, along with the Sky Dragon’s Flight, darting back and away from Mo Zhiqiang’s counter.
He saw his mistake an instant too late—he’d placed himself right into Mo Zhiqiang’s ideal range.
Mo Zhiqiang held his weapon in a high grip and advanced with a series of exquisitely executed thrusts, his form displaying a significant increase in mastery since their first fight. He moved with both power and grace, and with each subsequent attack Mo Zhiqiang blurred. He gathered his technique around him, an obscuring mist rather similar to the one that had initially hidden his spearhead. A thrust pierced through He Yu’s defense, and a sharp lance of pain blossomed in his arm where Mo Zhiqiang landed a hit.
“What have you been doing all winter, Sect Brother He?” Mo Zhiqiang asked with disdain. “Certainly not training. You’ve hardly improved since our last fight.”
He Yu wasn’t about to allow the noble to taunt him. The Spring Rain Mirror flashed along with his guandao as he beat back Mo Zhiqiang’s thrusts. Advancing in his turn, He Yu called the Sweeping Wind. He cycled heaven qi according to the Empyrean Ninefold Body Tempering, using the speed and power of the art to match Mo Zhiqiang’s technique.
Then, Mo Zhiqiang vanished. It was only by virtue of the Cloud Emperor’s Peerless Judgment that He Yu was able to avoid the follow-up. But not completely. The spearhead dug into the meat of He Yu’s thigh. It had been aimed such that it would have disemboweled him—clearly an illegal strike. He Yu shot a glance toward Su Meifeng. She merely inclined her head, indicating that the duel was still on. It seemed that she would not step in and put a stop to a killing blow. Rather she would allow it, then deliver whatever consequences were appropriate after.
He Yu cycled qi to his wounded leg. Even with his cultivator’s body, he wouldn’t be able to heal before the end of the fight without medicine. He could at least ease the pain and still make use of the limb, although it would place a strain on his reserves. At least he’d learned something valuable—Mo Zhiqiang was willing to go much further than He Yu had anticipated.
“Is this what you have to resort to?” He Yu demanded. “Seeking a killing blow despite the fact this is a duel among sect siblings?”
“I will reclaim my pride one way or another, peasant.”
“Do you even know what you’re getting at?” He Yu demanded. “Do you know what it is to take another’s life?”
“The world of immortals is stalked by death, you should know that by now,” Mo Zhiqiang spat.
He Yu did know that. While he didn’t think that Mo Zhiqiang had ever taken another’s life, He Yu had. Along with Li Heng and Yan Shirong, he’d slaughtered more than sixty bandits—all of them as helpless as children before the three disciples.
Leveling his blade at Mo Zhiqiang, He Yu thought back to that encounter. He recalled the weight of it—the feel of his guandao digging into flesh. The scent of blood and bile. The pained moans and cries of the dying. The scent of charred flesh and the sight of burned corpses in the villages he’d passed. He let that weight settle over him and recalled the lessons of his hunt for King Hao.
Mo Zhiqiang was right. Death stalked the world of immortals.
He Yu was going to show him what that meant.
“You speak of pride, yet you conduct yourself no better than a bandit,” He Yu said. “Allow me to instruct you on the weight of a life.”
Killing intent settled over the two cultivators, cold and sharp. While not as refined as Tan Xiaoling’s, it was more than Mo Zhiqiang had manifested when he’d launched his attack. The noble’s features told He Yu everything he needed to know—Mo Zhiqiang really was the soft, pampered layabout that he seemed.
The Shearing Wind formed around He Yu’s blade. The additional weight of his killing intent gave the technique a sharper edge compared to its previous feel. He Yu blasted forward with the Sky Dragon’s Flight. Lightning snapped all around him as he activated the Empyrean Ninefold Body Tempering. As he activated the Cloud Emperor’s Peerless Judgment, he dimly saw that he was letting his anger get the better of him. He could deal with that later. For now, he only needed one thing from the technique—insight into Mo Zhiqiang’s next move.
His blade fell, and Mo Zhiqiang twisted away. The noble activated a movement technique. It was water-aspected and familiar in its shape. While not identical to Zhang Lifen’s, it was similar enough. He Yu adjusted, shifting to the side with the nimble movements afforded him by the combination of his own movement technique and his body art.
Mo Zhiqiang stepped right into the path of He Yu’s attack. A spray of blood erupted from the wound he scored across the noble’s chest. The shift in Mo Zhiqiang’s qi indicated he was desperately cycling everything he could to the wound, even as he shifted into a counterattack of his own. Despite his anger, He Yu was glad his opponent still had some fight left in him.
The tassel at the end of Mo Zhiqiang’s spear blurred along with its gleaming point as the noble activated his attack technique. Wisps of wind qi rushed towards He Yu. The Spring Rain Mirror flashed into the space between them, and Mo Zhiqiang’s attack slid off it, leaving him open once more. He Yu called the Bracing Wind and blasted Mo Zhiqiang’s technique away with his own command of wind-aspected qi.
Once more He Yu’s blade fell. Wind and heaven qi trailed in its wake and the weight of He Yu’s killing intent pressed down on the world. In his desperation, Mo Zhiqiang thrust his spear once more rather than try and defend. It was aimed at the center of He Yu’s chest.
Water qi bloomed as the Spring Rain Mirror formed. The spear hit the barrier. The Spring Rain Mirror cracked, then shattered. The combined weight of it all was too much. Between keeping the Five Crescent Winds, the Peerless Judgment, and the Empyrean Ninefold Body Tempering active all at once—not to mention the qi he was spending to keep his wounds in check—it was all too much for him to maintain at once and keep up the monstrously difficult defensive technique.
The spear’s tip dug into He Yu’s flesh. He grabbed himself with the Sky Dragon’s Flight and darted back. The maneuver managed to save him from the worst of it, but he’d still taken another hit. He was in better condition than Mo Zhiqiang, though.
From where he’d managed to half-catch himself from falling, Mo Zhiqiang looked up at He Yu. The noble looked awful, blood soaking his robe, and each breath a struggle. His features were a mask of defiance, but He Yu could tell it was forced. His posture spoke the truth of his fear.
He Yu readied another attack and rushed forward. Wind and heaven churned around him in a tempest of qi laced with killing intent. Mo Zhiqiang raised his spear in an attempt to block He Yu’s strike. The two weapons met and Mo Zhiqiang’s spear snapped where it took He Yu’s attack. The follow-through scored another bloody line on the noble, this time across his temple.
Mo Zhiqiang staggered, then fell. Even before he’d hit the ground, He Yu had readied another strike.
“Stop,” came a quiet and calm voice from the side of the arena. Soft as her command was, Su Meifeng’s words cut through the rush of blood in He Yu’s ears.
He turned and gave the core disciple a bow.
“He Yu wins,” she said. “I will log the results of the duel with the commission hall. Disciple He has attained rank six hundred ten by defeating Disciple Mo.”
Comments
Rehoboth Okorie
Tftc!
