The Third Cut - Chapter 27 preview (Patreon)

They caught up with Phuong Vy as she reached the massive doors of the temple, the way closed and barred. A deep hand imprint in the center of the doors indicated an attempt to enter once already, and now the woman was standing back, glaring at the doors while sorting through her pouch.

“What, exactly, are you thinking of doing?” Yang Mu asked, scandalized as she stared at the tiny scholar.

“Finding a poison that’ll eat through those doors, of course.” Phuong Vy hefted a pouch, consideringly and then hung it off one finger where it joined another pair she had already drawn out. “I’ve not seen this kind of stone before, but I’m sure I can work something out.”

“You… it’s a formation! Just let me break the formation.” Giving her head a hard shake, Yang Mu turned to eye the doors before beginning to frown, more and more. Wu Ying looked the formation over, briefly, understanding just enough about the flows of energy that passed through the doors itself to accept that he had no idea about how to deal with it. He recognized at least one portion of the energy signature to be a reflective attack, which saw off brute forcing the entrance.

On the other hand, waiting around for more problems sat ill with him. He stepped back, raising his hand and enforcing his will on the winds again. He pushed his chi outwards, feeling his core drain down further as he sent the wind scurrying around the building, searching for a way within.

One, two, three entrances he found in quick order. Each were barred, though none as powerfully it seemed as the front doors. Still, they were inconveniently placed and two at least were inappropriately sized for normal cultivators. He might be able to bypass the physical restrictions with his own qiggong methods, but it was unlikely the pair had any such method.

More, he assumed that such weakness in the formation was a ruse. It seemed likely, though overconfidence could not be ruled out. After all, when one had a Nascent Soul level guardian, few enough were worried about such things.

Which reminded him…

“What is Sao Choi doing?” He muttered.

Phuong Vy glanced at Wu Ying, then shook her head a little as though dissuading him from pursuing that conversation. It was concerning, this lack of information, especially amongst his erstwhile allies. Especially when his friend was battling for his life.

He could only hope that the absence of the Nascent Soul beast was not something he should concern himself about. Did Bich Trang lack the control over the creature, like he his wings in this environment? If so, how did the cultivator know this beforehand? How much information had really been communicated backwards, before the previous expeditions fell?

Or was there another reason for the bird’s lack of effort during this battle? Were they that certain they could handle matters in the village with their current resources? Was Sao Choi more fragile than it looked? Certainly birds were powerful allies, but weak in many ways. Their fragile bones were easy to crush and break, their greater speed and maneuverability useless in a long drawn out fight.

Mostly.

Wu Ying had memories about one particular Nascent Soul bird that had beaten him bloody once before, not that long ago. The right combination of dao and elements could allay many natural disadvantages after all.

A sharp cry drew Wu Ying’s attention back to the immediate surroundings. He was not concerned about the guards or the incoming mob, many of whom had come across their champion’s body and slowed down, gathering together at the far edges of his perception as they sought courage in numbers.

“There!” With a clap of her hands and flooding of her chi, the massive double doors shattered. Or they seemed to, in Wu Ying’s vision, before suddenly reforming. Or perhaps, it was an image of the door that had shattered, and the real one’s had always been there? He shook his head, the dueling visions that clouded his senses throwing him off for a moment.

He could not help but wonder, if the corruption that was invading the wind was taking its toll on himself too. And if so, what he could do about it. Something to discuss with Tou He and Yang Mu, later, it seemed.

Phuong Vy was not caught in idle musings like him, already setting tiny hands against the door. She put her strength into the push, levering the doors apart before she jerked backwards, twisting as she did so. Too slow to avoid the trap entirely, as bolts fired from within. Some of the pre-set crossbow bolts clattered uselessly against the massive doors that were still swinging open, others flew by and caught naught but air. One was deflected at the last minute by a fan snapped open and Wu Ying swayed aside as two seemed to hone in on him, one seemingly blown his way by an errant gust of wind.

Another snap of a fan, and a blast of energy was thrown outwards from the enchanted accessory. The racks of crossbows were blown over, the remaining crossbows meant to fire a second volley sent clattering to the ground, launching their deadly payload within.

Phuong Vy tumbled backwards, clutching her side where it had begun to stain the area under her rosebud breasts, a grimace of pain across her visage.

“Are you well, Cultivator La?” Wu Ying said, hurrying over.

He stopped as she waved him away, the scholar muttering curses under her breath as she straightened. “I shall live. Go, deal with whatever traps there might be. We must get the splinter before they move it, or bring more reinforcements.”

Wu Ying nodded, remembering that there were still a number of Core Formation demons unaccounted for. Not all of them were martial combatants of course, or were unlikely to be, but these were demons. Who knew how much of a martial tradition they truly held? In any case, the scholar was already extracting a compress to press to her side, and her being more experienced in the physiking arts than he, he saw no point in pressing the matter.

Striding in with his sword drawn, Wu Ying dealt with the half-dozen guards waiting for him in short order, along with the four traps he located in as many steps. He stopped after that, anger rolling through his body as he took in the insides of the temple.

It seemed that the Ma Than Vong, the hanged ghosts took their name and their traditions to the extreme within this temple. Corpses, of beasts and men and even their own people littered the insides, many drawn high into the massive, empty ceiling of the sloped pyramid. The bodies rotted slowly, festering, even as large hunks of meat hung near the center of the building itself around a central fire that burned a twisted, sickly greenish yellow.

The splinter fire.

And the splinter itself, that which fueled the fire itself beneath it. If the reek of corruption and decay, the voided bowels and decomposing corpses and rotting meat was not enough to turn the stomach, the sight of the pulsing heart in the center, twice the size of a slim man’s torso would have emptied a lesser man’s innards. Even Wu Ying, who had seen much in his travels, found himself recoiling primally.

“I cannot spot every trap in here,” Yang Mu said, her voice high and a little desperate as she sought a topic other than the still beating heart, the thundering beat that it made now that the doors were open all too present, all too… wrong. “Too many shadows. Too many… bodies.”

“Neither can I. Not this near that… thing.” Wu Ying made a quick decision, twisting his hand and cutting, first to the right and then left. The blade strikes formed and tore through the air, shattering unseen wires and cutting down corpses. When traps, magical and mechanical were spoiled by his actions, he grinned. “But my father used to say, if you could not be smarter than your opponent, you could always just work harder.”

Yang Mu matched the vicious smile on Wu Ying’s face, turning to one side. She raised her and began to swing them, slicing sideways with the edge of the metal fans, sending slicing chi blades through the air with each motion. Unlike with a sword, her movements took on a slight flutter to them as she did the cuts, leaving a flutter of wind and movement in the attacks, making them seem like living snakes that traversed the sky in search of prey.

Wu Ying on his side copied her actions, swinging his own jian in short, sharp movements. He tore into the sides and the traps all around, making sure to gouge not just the walls and pillars but the ground and ceiling as well, causing the corpses to tumble to the ground.

Traps triggered, one after the other, most misfiring and targeting other portions of the hallway. Some, however, were more widespread, throwing lit oil and releasing flying blades through the air. Rather than stay still, Wu Ying strode forwards through the attacks, closing the distance towards the beating heart, beating aside attacks that came for him or slipping past them with just the barest of movements.

Yang Mu let out a low laugh, joining Wu Ying in his approach. Unlike his – mostly – straight line approach forwards, she took a more circuitous route, the steps of a drunken fairy both unpredictable and inefficient. Yet, not once did the traps touch her, and the fans that never stopped moving cut again and again, picking up discarded bodies and tearing through ground and traps that had been missed by Wu Ying.

Between the two of them, they took apart the temple, the storm of white and brown energy throwing corpses and limbs, flames and rope askew, even as the sickly green flames of previous attacks continued to thrum through the air.

Far behind and safe from the on-going storm, Phuong Vy walked behind, a series of new talismans floating around her in protection. They formed a series of interconnecting triangles, the sharp-edged formation beating aside the occasional bone or bolt cast in her direction.

It took the group only a short period to cover the rest of the ground, the few attendants who streamed out to stop them barely an inconvenience. In another time, in another place, Wu Ying might have been disturbed by his earmarking of another living creature as an inconvenience. But here, in this desecrated temple of corruption and decay where the beating heart of an infernal creature rested, burning, cleansing and corrupting all at the same time, he found such sensibilities muted.

No.

More than that, they were burnt away by a righteous anger that saw him take deep satisfaction in the destruction of the temple and the ending of these creatures.

“How are we to douse that fire?” Yang Mu said, as the pair of them came to a stop a healthy distance from the heart. Neither of them desired to near it, for an instinctive revulsion ran through them both along with a strong desire for destruction of the infernal object.

“It does not seem to mind my wind,” Wu Ying noted, idly. “Even the hardest gales barely shifted the flames.”

“And wood is of no use. I do have a water barrel in my ring…” Yang Mu said.

“You have a water barrel in your storage ring?” Wu Ying repeated, surprised. “Why?”

“A woman needs to keep herself clean and presentable. You never know what circumstances one might find oneself within,” Yang Mu said, primly.

“I really want a ring that large…” Wu Ying grumbled.

“Of course you do. But the fire?”

“I’ll handle that. And the heart. You two, watch for trouble,” Phuong Vy said, coming up to the two. The pair stepped aside, allowing the dimunitive scholar to approach the heart, coming to a stop a few feet from it. The flames reflected off the glowing talismans that hovered around her, the yellow paper smoking at the edges as the chi devoted to their creation burnt out.

“First, to quench the flames, remove the air.” Phuong Vy threw her hands out sideways, casting a formation flag out of both hands, and then slamming a third into the ground before her feet. The trio of flags began to shimmer, twisting the space caught between them and locking it away.

Wu Ying cocked his head to the side curiously, watching the fractured vision of the heart as the flame guttered and turned, idly noting that such a formation could be used against him too. He regarded it with some minor trepidation, searching for flaws even as he attempted to enforce his will on the air around them, pulling fresher air from the broken entrance.

Yang Mu barely even eyed the formation herself, instead taking to walking around the temple. She had shifted one of her fans away, leaving her with a staff that she used to prod and push at the wreckage, as though searching for treasures.

“Find anything?” Wu Ying asked her.

“Nothing yet. But you never know.”

He shook his head, surprised at her optimism. This was not a place he would have expected anything of value, and he certainly had no desire to dirty his hands among the offal and rotting corpses.

Which was an interesting change from his earlier years, if he thought about it. Once he would have scrabbled through corpses for the meanest amount of coin. Now, he was rich enough that he would turn up his nose at the thought of some advantage, when it came to pushing through all this mess.

Was he, dare he think it, becoming an effete noble?

Shuddering a little at the thought, Wu Ying eyed the surroundings more religiously. No. He had been tasked with watching for danger and that was what he was doing. He was not shirking such efforts just because he did not want to get his hands dirty – ort at least, not only that. Though, there was certainly a difference between good dirt and compost and the corrupted and rotting remains around them.

“If you two will be quiet, I’m working here.” Phuong Vy snapped. “This is taking too long…” And it was, for the flames, while dying slowly, were not gone. “I’ll need to cool it further. The Nine Buddha Palms Void Formation or the Ice Jade Mountain Formation?” Muttering to herself, she stalked sideways and then back, lips thin.

“The Buddha Palms will damage your formation and the heart. The Ice Jade will take longer, but it will likely cause the least amount of damage to both,” Yang Mu offered from her own expertise. “Truly depends on what you need.”

“I knew that!” Phuong Vy said, then hesitated before extracting the Ice Jade flags. These formation flags, enscripted and enchanted with runes all along the cloth were blue and white, in contrast to the common yellow or cream coloured flags more often used.

She began to insert the flags into the ground, this time there being a total of nine flags that she had to carefully position around the randomly inserted flags of before. Yang Mu had taken to watching the scholar work with pursed lips in-between her act of poking at the wreckage.

In the meantime, Wu Ying eyed the numerous entrances scattered throughout the four sided pyramid, hallways running parallel to the base of the pyramid and disappearing into shadowed alcoves within that defied easy perception. With so much to be seen, he felt himself a little exposed, especially as the wind continued to shriek their misery and twisted visions in equal measure.

Without his usual windy companions, with his senses seriously curtailed by the presence of the infernal heart that continued to beat – perhaps even more strongly now that the fire that had burnt it guttered – and with so many entrances to watch, Wu Ying never noticed the attack until it was nearly too late.

For some, it was entirely tardy.