The Third Kingdom - Chapter 29 preview (Patreon)

No words were exchanged as the pair stared at one another across the gulf of space between them. Everything that they could discuss, everything they could speak of had been said. Now, the only dialogue that could be had was over the point of their blades.

Elder Cao pulled her chi towards her, engaging with the full strength of her body and form and shot upwards, streaking towards Wu Ying like a metallic meteorite moving in the opposite direction. She had no weapon in hand, but the fingernails across her arm elongated into blades themselves. Her mouth widened into an unending, wordless scream as hate burned in her eyes.

In turn, Wu Ying struck.  Not with a sword but with the gathered strength of the tornado that had formed. He had already expanded the cone of cold air running down the center, but now he pulled the energy and heat of the rising hot air to help channel his strike. He held the energy together for a brief moment, blocking the flow of energy as it built up before he released it in a rush; allowing the accumulated energy to impact the rising Elder Cao.

The ex-General raised a hand to cover her eyes as she pushed onward, the gale winds tossing her from side-to-side as she struggled upwards. She clamped her mouth shut, forcing her ascent even as the borrowed energy of the wind strike blasted into her. Shards of ice from the cold air above and remnant metal pieces pinged off her metal-encased body, but it was the air pressure itself that she struggled with.

She and Wu Ying, for to conjure the gale, to control this all; he had to utilize his scant reserves. He gritted his teeth, feeling his energy plummet with each passing second, until he relaxed his hold on the entire creation.

No longer under his control, the wind howled and threw them both around, the formed tornado throwing them about. Wu Ying let himself be carried into the outer vortex, pushed ever higher.

In the center, pressured from above and forced to stay still, Elder Cao struggled to close the distance. Her dao expanded, pushing against Wu Ying and rather than fight it, he allowed himself to be taken both by the dao attack and gravity.

He fell, breaking free from the outer currents, his body arcing through the air. Soon enough, he was released even from Elder Cao’s sphere of influence, his body trailing through the sky with traces of smoke and heat radiating from his skin before he impacted the ground.

Feet underneath him, Wu Ying tore a deep furrow into the land, a brief moment of reinforcement and lightening of his body ensuring he did not shatter his limbs. Even so, carefully tended fields were destroyed, drainage ditches and field walls torn open. His robes grew stained by the water, his feet squelched in the deep mud as he burrowed into the land from the impact.

Elder Cao’s final attack had disrupted the delicate balance between her and the pressing wind. She too fell, the combined weight of her own dao and the wind sent her rocketing into the earth to impact and depress the ground itself. Metal skin, protective sheen of silver and gold cracked and fell apart, even as the pair of cultivators; aching and bruised strode out of their respective holes.

“Clever. You’re very clever, Cultivator Long. Borrowing the energy of our battle to meet us on equal grounds,” Elder Cao said, wiping at the trail of blood from her mouth. As she limped closer, the layers of metal that crossed her body peeled away, shedding themselves in the whipping wind to reveal her burnt and blackened skin beneath. In spots, Wu Ying swore he could see weeping bone.

“Not clever enough, it seems. You still stand,” Wu Ying replied.

His legs ached and as he gauged his own Core, Wu Ying could not help but wince. There was little chi left within, his extravagant use over the battle leaving him with the dregs. His dantian was still half-filled with normal, uncompressed, unrefined chi – but that was not enough.

“Of course. I told you, you cannot win.” She grinned, her eyes sparking with the deep-felt conviction of her beliefs. “Not even if all three of you fight together.”

Another step, and except for a short shift beneath her clothing that had somehow managed to survive the immense heat of the battle, she was for her modesty’s sake – and Wu Ying’s peace of mind – still mostly covered.

“You have not won yet,” Wu Ying replied as he drew his sword from its sheath. He couldn’t remember when he had put it away, probably when he first ascended the sky.

He balanced the Saint blade in his hand. A shrieking noise, a disruption in the wind had him look to the side. From where Elder Eng had been pinned and cast aside, General Cao’s weapon flew back into waiting hands. He was surprised enough that he did not even react as she rearmed herself, only mentally cursing himself for not acting sooner.

On the other hand, shortly afterwards, Elder Eng returned, his face impassive, his body covered in the same mountainous rock armour he had worn before. Only the presence of a hasty patch down one side was indication of the injury he had suffered.

“I see you brought her low,” Elder Eng said, flexing his fists. He reached back, pulling the podao from where it had been locked. He hefted and swung it around, testing his balance and movement. “Good.”

“We will just have to finish her…” Elder Tsui murmured, his voice low and pained such that it was only with the aid of the wind that Wu Ying heard him. To his surprise the man was on his feet, though streaks of blood across his face and around his eyes and ears indicated the damage he had suffered from the backlash of having his formation destroyed.

“You can barely stand, and you wish to fight me?” Elder Cao mocked.

In reply, Elder Tsui twisted his hands, pulling forth yellow talisman papers from his spirit ring. Wu Ying chuckled a little, amused as Elder Cao grew solemn. While talisman’s still required chi to wield, their effects were outsized compared to their chi investment.

“I’ll lead the way,” Wu Ying said, crossing the distance to right before Elder Cao as he spoke, his sword rising and pointing at the woman. She looked a little less confident, eyeing the three of them, injured as she was. Yet, it was only a little; for she was still standing and only Wu Ying was truly uninjured.

Elder Eng nodded, taking a firmer and wider stance. His chi surged and then dropped, flooding the ground as he asserted his control over the earth. Rather than let him take control and dictate the battlefield, the General darted to the side, charging the Elder and attempted to avoid Wu Ying.

Wu Ying cut her off, realizing to his surprise that he was now slightly faster than her. He threw a pair of sword intent cuts at her, making the woman duck and dodge around the attacks. Another indication of the degree of her injury, as she no longer dared tank the attack. Finally, she skidded to a halt, earth and dust thrown into the sky as Wu Ying blocked her.

Her hesitation lasted only a fraction of a second before she clashed with Wu Ying. Her strikes came fast and hard, and he had no time to set-up his own attacks, instead forced onto the defensive once more. Each blow from her dagger-axe revibrated through his arms as he defended himself, forced step by step back as she attempted to bypass him.

This was not the kind of fight he was best at. His style, his footwork, his temperament was geared towards a flowing, mobile battle rather than staying still in a single location, battling one another till the other person fell.

A feinted thrust to her face was called, Elder Cao plunging forwards and letting the blade glance off her cheek, metal forming at the last moment to deflect his attack. She was within his reach then, the haft of her blade hammering into his ribs and sending him falling back a half dozen feet.

He reset as she charged.

Another cut, his own blade rising to block and shed the attack. She altered the angle of her attack at the last second, aiming for the weak of his blade, positioned to crush through the tip into his body. He shifted position in turn, taking a half step to the left, feeling the axe-head clash with his own.

He let his arm and weapon collapse, angling body forward and arm sideways. He stepped in, even as she ripped the weapon away from the void of space he had created above his arm before she swung the polearm back, intent on crushing his ribs.

Already dropping downwards, Wu Ying let himself fall the rest of the way, feeling the air stir above his head as the polearm swung through the space he had been. He rose moments later, and his blade rose with him. Dragon salutes the Sun, sword intent pouring down his blade and flashed across the half dozen feet to his opponent as he extended the blade.

She flared her aura, pivoting her dagger-axe polearm around her wrist as she extended her chi. The extended sword intent strike clashed against her weapon, the entirety of his attack concentrating as it touched upon her defense, burrowing within before shattering on the hardened metal of her aura.

Wind against metal. It was no contest. The metal would always win in the short-term. Wu Ying’s attacks could wear her down, force her to lose energy; but so long as she had that energy, he could not penetrate her defense.

Not without surprising her.

Another step, and then Elder Cao jumped back. Yellow talismans landed where she was a moment later, light forming into a chi-empowered trap that reached for the skies. She twisted her weapon, throwing a blade strike of her own at Elder Tsui, only for more talismans to be employed in defnese.

In the meantime, soil erupted beneath her still feet. The explosion threw her upwards, forcing her to flip through the air and land, feet smoking. Blood streaks from broken and scored vessels surrounded her now bare feet, while Elder Eng panted behind them; his own chi reserves dropping precipitously.

Wu Ying glanced back, then called out to them. “Hold her still. I have still one more trick.”

Answering grunts.

Elder Cao charged, intent on Wu Ying now rather than Elder Eng. The hunger in her eyes made him sweat even as he clashed with her weapon again, the pair dodging between talismans cast into their midst and the occasional grasping, rock hand or sucking mud pile. Each motion by Elder Eng was punctuated by the haft of his polearm striking the earth.

Now that she was focused on him, Wu Ying danced. He had the ability to fight the kind of battle he excelled at. Faster, he moved, calling the wind to aid him, using his chi to lighten his steps. Faster, he cut and thrust, blade sparking off flesh and metal skin, tiny traces of blood appearing across her body even as skin cracked.

The wind might lose to metal, be forced to move around it, but the wind could wear down even the most solid of objects given time. So long as she did not strike him, he could fight on. So long as he had chi, he stood a chance of winning.

Realisation tickled at the edges of his consciousness as another hard block by Elder Cao sent him spinning back, his legs flowing across the ground and digging in. His style, his technique, it had a cost to it. A high cost for the movement, the motions all took its toll on his stamina and chi stores.

He needed more, and he had little left to give.

The smile she gave him, as she saw his hesitation chilled him to the bone. Blood and white liquid weeped from the cracked skin along her cheeks, giving her a ghastly, monstrous appearance. Hair, cut short for wearing her helmet had burnt off, her body rimmed with gold and silver that shifted and faded. Even she had grown tired, the flying shards of metal no longer present.

“You see it, don’t you? See…”

Her taunting never finished, the dozen talismans cast high into the air triggering. Lightning struck the ground below, even as Elder Tsui slumped senseless, the last of his energy drained as he enacted the powerful attack.

Lightning strikes, forcing her to weave and dodge between attacks. Never truly fast enough to avoid the attacks in full, her body heating and burning. She screamed again, voice hoarse and damaged; but the metal shield she floated above her body, the energy she redirected at Elder Eng and Wu Ying with her dagger-axe was sufficient to keep her standing.

At the end of the attack, she stood there; in a smoking, pockmarked land, slumped against her polearm. A hair ornament that Wu Ying had barely paid attention to her shattered, its pieces falling to the ground, its defensive charges wasted. The anklets around her legs still glowed, though the bracers she had worn were gone too.

More of her enchantments destroyed. Injured. But still standing.

Wu Ying hissed, trying to raise his own arm. He had caught one such redirected attack on his own blade, his arm tingling and half-senseless. He forced chi through the injured meridians, forcibly healing himself and waking up the nerves. A strangled cry erupted from his mouth as pain, exquisite pain like a thousand superheated needles were driven into his nerves.

Elsewhere, Elder Eng finished his own preparations. He stomped, bringing his hands down together with him; the earthen armor around his body falling to the ground as well as he channeled his attack.

In a circle around Elder Cao, the land sunk. A dozen feet across with her in the epicenter, the earth turned into a bog and a mud pool swirled as channeled chi pulled at her feet. The woman snarled, channeling her own energy into the earth, pulling metal from the surroundings to form beneath her, pillars of metal to stand upon.

Faces straining, the pair of Elders fought. And for once, she was still. For once, Wu Ying could concentrate.

His sword was sheathed, his body moving by rote. He fell into the breathing pattern, the mindset required. It was the first form of his own style, taken from understanding of both the Long family jian and his Master’s training.

He crossed the distance at a light run, his chi extending into his blade, into his body, into the surroundings. In his mind’s eye, he knew what he had to do.

Leg. Arm. Hand. Sword. Step and cut.

So simple to say. So hard to do.

The blow rose upwards, the winds shrieked and twisted.

The attack, his first, his own. Mostly. For fear, in his mind, understanding, in his heart, that he was not truly ready to wield this attack. Not in its entirety.

So.

A Wandering Dragon.

Constrained.

***

A rising cut, starting low and rising. He cut the attack short, ending it just above his head rather than following through to the stars. The energy he released, the intent of his attack, it was all constrained. The intent was similar to the one he had first developed this movement from, the Karma Severing Cut.

However, his was altered, the dao intentions, the beliefs his Master had brought to the attack had not worked with Wu Ying’s own view of the world.

However, his own Wandering Dragon was broken. It infused his understanding of the winds, the attack and intentions of his own Long family style, but it was incorrect, dangerous and unconstrained. It tore at the bindings and natural order of the world, and while the Dao itself would change and adapt and recover, the ensuing destruction to the world from his single attack had been too wide ranging in scope. Especially for a single martial attack that had been formed while he was in the Energy Storage level of cultivation.

The Heavens had shown him what he had done wrong, what he had affected by his own misunderstanding of the world. They had rebuked him, and in their criticism, nearly destroyed him. Yet, his understanding after that period had grown, changed.

There was a way to cut, to step and strike and kill and to do it without causing widespread destruction over thousands of li. There was a way to flow with the Dao, amplifying the attack while benefiting the greater world rather than disrupting it.

It was not his own dao, not his goal, to destroy the world. He was no demonic or heretical cultivator. He was not looking to be part of that push and grind, the destructive aspects of the Dao and the demonic incursions.

Perhaps if he had followed those beliefs, he might have escaped Heaven’s regard. Or perhaps, they might have taken much stronger actions.

Two years, he had trained, he had considered and practiced and mimicked the movements. Two years, but he had not dared unleash this attack. Knowing, deep within that it was still incomplete. That he had not found the solution to this martial style, a way to correct the deviation.

Two years, and now he acted.

Even constrained… his movements stopped, his body seized and he fell over. He was wracked by the pain of the backlash. Blood vessels burst along his feet, his hips, his chest and arm. Everywhere that the energy he had used to focus the attack; his dao, the Dao of the world, assaulted him back as Heaven’s Mandate reacted. His meridians strained, the core in his body pulsed as his chi rebelled.

In pain, Wu Ying could only watch as his attack impacted, his body frozen as Elder Cao suffered from his own strike.

The cut tore up the ground a little, striking along thigh and hip and chest. The attack, edged with killing intent, concentrated wind chi and sword intent and his own dao all together. It tore apart skin, muscle and even cracked bone itself. Even Elder Cao’s own concentrated chi aura and her Saint-strength weapon was not defense enough against Wu Ying’s first move.

Her body was thrown backwards, ripped out of enclosed earth that had sucked her down. Elder Eng released her fractions of a second before Wu Ying’s attack impacted, such that he would not suffer the backlash of his technique being broken. Even then, he was slumped over, chi exhausted.

She flipped over and over, blood flying through the air to tumble away. Her body lay on the ground, twitching and bleeding. Elder Tsui was unconscious, blood pooling on the ground beneath his wound. Elder Eng, bereft of chi was slumped over on his knees, breathing hard as he desperately tried to regain some semblance of energy.

As for Wu Ying, he lay on the ground, twitching, low moans venting from his chest as his body seized. The damage was reduced from the last time, the feedback lower but the pain – oh the pain was so much greater. It encompassed his universe, robbed him of bodily control and left him defenseless.

Around the group, silence dominated as the battle stopped, combatants too injured to speak or move. The wind, whipped up by the attacks began to settle, carrying with it the churned dirt and ash to the ground. In the distance, the voices of other cultivators, brave or foolish approached.

Eventually, the pain from the attack began to fade. Wu Ying found his feet, forcing himself upwards with the aid of his sword. The devastation of his attack, even restricted - had been more powerful than he had used previously. Greater dao understanding, more powerful, concentrated chi and a Saint-class weapon all contributed to the damage.

Standing, he looked around; trading a satisfied grin with Elder Eng.

Then the body twitched, metal flowing to constrain and seal gaping wounds. The woman staggered upwards, the ex-general grinning at Wu Ying, malevolence and madness in her eyes.

“I told you, you can’t beat me.” She raised her hand, chi pulsing to her fallen weapon. The broken remnant of her weapon only twitched, the enchantment destroyed. “You!” Rage, thrumming through the air. Hurting Wu Ying’s chest and ears, just with words alone. “I was gifted that by His Highness himself. I will cut your feet off and feed it to the pigs, strip the skin from your fingers and burn the nerves. You’ll rue the day you entered my kingdom!”

A gesture, one that sent a grimace of pain had her extract another weapon from her own storage ring the fingers on her hand burnt to the crisp and more bone than flesh.

What she pulled out was a beautiful weapon, a Saint-class jian rather than the guandao she had wielded before. She met Wu Ying’s startled gaze, reminding him of Gao Qiu’s death. Though perhaps the choice to use a jian had as much to pay him back as anything else.

Elder Cao strode at Wu Ying, her right foot dragging behind her, determination and madness dancing in her eyes.

Exhausted, his fingers and an eyelid twitching from the aftereffects of the backlash, Wu Ying readied himself.

One last clash then.

Even if both of them were injured, bereft of chi and the defenses of a Core Formation cultivator.

One last pass to end it all.

His breathing steadied, the thrum of his meridians, strained by the extrusion of energy, backlash and regathering filling his ears.

One last…

“Wo cao!!” Wu Ying swore.

Forgotten by them all, a furred blur struck Elder Cao from behind, bowling her over as chi claws and furious bestial energy burnt through the air and her body. Blood flew and choked out as screams rang out as Liu Ping took her revenge. Her claws tore into soft and vulnerable flesh, flinging chunks of meat and bone into the air.

The initial surprise attack had rendered Elder Cao’s right arm entirely unusable. Her weapon fell to the ground, left behind as claws tore into her chest, ripping apart her rib cage and exposing lungs and heart to the air. Chi washed out from Elder Cao’s shattered body in desperate fashion, life blood burning only to be countered by the same, desperate maneuver by Liu Ping. The woman, in the full throes of her bloodline taking over cared not for the future, only for her revenge.

Instinct held Wu Ying back, as he watched the mindless, enraged woman murder Elder Cao, bringing the battle to a sudden and abrupt ending.

Hovering over the mutilated body, Liu Ping threw her head backs, howling her vengeance and satisfaction to the sky. It rang through the surroundings for long moments, reminding humanity that there were things in the dark that hungered for their lives.

Then she crumpled over the dead body.

For a long second, Wu Ying still stood before he too slumped to the ground, sword still in hand as relief coursing through his blood. Voices in the distance as the rest of the cultivators arrived. But Wu Ying ignored them.

It was over.

Finally.