Climbing the Ranks - Chapter 10 preview (Patreon)

High forest trees, sticky staps with sharp pine needles. That’s what those were, right? Pine? Arthur heaved and breathed, trying to dodge deeper within, missing the dense underbrush of Malaysia now. Even the temperature around here was a lot cooler, meaning that energy would not be sapped from overheating, from sweating.

Luck had him stumble at the right time, a foot catching on a hidden root. He caught himself easily, but the projected blast of energy clipped his shoulder where it would have struck him dead-on. Instinctively, he clutched his staff close as he spun around and fell, barely managing to get his feet away from the gripping roots – holy shit, were they actually moving! – before he crashed to the ground.

“Oh, you orang bodoh! I had him!” the malay-descended cultivator snarled at the other man, shaking one glowing fist. “If you hadn’t tripped him, he’d be down.”

“He’s on the ground, isn’t he?” Snarled the Chinese man who cut with his parang, the roots that had been moving under his command stilling and falling back to the ground.

Eyeing the pair still arguing with one another a good twenty feet away, Arthur slowly pushed himself to his feet. It was when he was most of the way up that they turned their attention back to him, giving him a flat gaze as he attempted to sneak off.

“We’re going to beat you and take you for everything you’ve got, boy!” the Malay said.

“Chop off a hand maybe…” the other man said, swinging the parang around with a grin.

“What!?!” the Malay paused, looking at his companion. “I didn’t sign up for that. Teach him a lesson, sure. But

“He cracked my brother’s ribs! He’s going to pay.” Blade wielder snarled as he stalked forward, turning his head just long enough to snap at the Malay.

Seeing his chance, Arthur rushed forward, his spear coming down to his hip. He threw the staff out, sliding it along one hand and guided by the other into a straight thrust that would cover the ground and smack the other in the face…

Only for the man to casually duck down, under the attack and then slap the entire staff high into the air with his own blade. Cursing, Arthur attempted to control the flailing staff that had been sent into the air, even as the other man strode forwards quickly.

Not quickly enough to stop his mouth working though. “I knew you were going to try that boy. Cowards like you, you’ll take every chance to attack those from behind.”

“Ah Chu, you can’t…” the Malay man protested, not moving forwards to aid either party. Clearly dithering, between the level of punishment and old loyalty.

Not that Arthur cared, not with what was happening. Instead, his focus was on the parang being swung at his head. Instinct had him give up on the end of his staff, letting it flop even as he stepped sideways, watching as the staff fell towards the ground as he brought his own end up at an angle.

Deflection. Not a good one, since the edge of the parang bit into the wood of his staff, but not far. Heat-treated, hard as sin, the staff would take quite a few strikes before it broke. It still made Arthur wince internally.

No time to retreat. He threw the punch, not at the other man’s face or chest, but at the retreating arm. Much closer range, much easier to deal with. It plunged in, energy boosting the attack to glance off the quickly retreating hand. A little bit of the parang, coming down caught on his own arm, cutting into him; but the shock made the other’s hand spasm.

Remove the weapon, then fight. You never wanted to fight someone holding something sharp, not if you could help it.

Unfortunately, before Arthur could back off further, his opponent lashed out. A spinning kick to his side caught him in the ribs, a pulse of energy similar to what he had used – a variation of Focused Strike that was stronger than his own, or perhaps just the same Skill but better done – punched into his ribs. He felt two break, his breath driven out of him as he flew backwards.

He hit the ground, rolling over and over, somehow managing to keep hold of his staff all through the fight. Fetching up against a tree, the impact of body against rough tree bark sent another lance of pain into a torso already burning with agony.

Chest constricted, unable to breathe; Arthur looked up to see his opponent charging him, refusing to give him a moment to recover. As he stood, Arthur slipped his second hand ahead of his lead one that was still gripping his staff, levering the entire weapon upwards. It flicked a bunch of dirt and leaves into the sky, disturbing the other.

Arthur rotated his hands, sending the edges of the weapon spinning in a circle as it neared the bare-handed Chinese man. Before he could strike the other, branches from the tree he was backed against reached outwards, gripping his body and yanking him backwards. His chest flared with pain, as he was lashed tight against the tree trunk.

The other man slowed a little, just enough to time his punch. The blow cracked across Arthur’s face, slamming the back of his skull into the trunk, scraping the back of his head against it as little stars danced across his eyes. Then, another blow, coming from the other side, catching his cheek.

A rain of blows, across his face and worse, his chest where ribs – bruised or broken – drove Arthur to distraction. Curses rained down on him, as the other man lashed out, until Arthur lay slumped, blood and snot dripping from his nose, held up by the roots.

“I told you, you’d pay…” Snarled the other man who had stopped, having stepped back. “Now, you got anything to say? If you beg, maybe I won’t chop off anything more than a hand…”

Arthur blinked, letting out a low moan. A hand grabbed his hair, pulling bruised and swollen eyes to look up into other man’s face.

“Well? You got something to say for yourself?”

Blinking a little, Arthur had to focus. He nodded a little, forestalling the slap that he could see coming and worked his jaw. He considered spitting at the man, but then chose to swallow the blood and saliva, to clear his throat.

“I… I do.” Arthur whispered-croaked.

“What’d you say?” the other man snarled, leaning forwards a little but still keeping a good hold of Arthur’s hair. No headbutts here.

Good thing, Arthur thought as he finished chanelling the energy in his body to his shins, that was not what he was planning. It was a desperate move, to try to use Focused Strike when he had not trained it on another limb. Desperate and risky, but pain and fear had driven him to take the chance.

One that sent his leg striking upwards, between his opponents legs. Eggs were crushed against body and shin, shattering the man’s hopes for the future. Even as he slumped over, pelvis cracked; the roots holding Arthur released.

His opponent lay on the ground. face white, a growing red stain around his crotch spreading across his jeans. Arthur blinked, looking around; only to find his last opponent staring at the two of them. Try as he might, Arthur could not find the energy to raise his hands or guard himself.

Eyes swimming, he wandered what would his fate be now.