The Third Cut - Chapter 30 preview (Patreon)

The formation failed, fire roaring outwards, fed by the wind that had picked up around Wu Ying. The air had never stopped moving, from the cyclone in the south, from the column of fire that rose above Tou He’s face, from Wu Ying’s own ministrations. Now, a second cyclone of fire emerged as Tou He’s aura was no longer contained.

Under his control, the air around him stacked upwards, shifting the heat that was radiating off Tou He. The talismans before him glowed, dark ink glowing on yellow paper as the enchantments borrowed the chi from the flame itself to empower themselves and provide the protection Wu Ying required to survive.

Even through all these defenses, even with the hardened, resistant and empowered skin of a Body Cleanser, Wu Ying felt the heat. The purifying flames of his friend’s aura crisped his skin and dried it out, a blast furnace of warmth that saw pavement stones crack like thunder.

“Tou He!” Wu Ying roared. “Wake up, you old fool.”

Silence.

“You meat-loving fool. You third-rate monk. Wake!” He shouted once more, his words barely audible under the roar of the winds. “UP!” He poured his chi into his voice, into the breath exiting his lungs. The last word was so loud that stones rattled and glass broke, a wind buffeting the flames and pressing them back upon the senseless cultivator.

A minor twitch, a flutter of an eyelid and shift of expression. Then, once more, Tou He’s face went blank. Unshaken from his stupor, from his senseless progress onwards.

“Damn you.” Wu Ying eyed the talismans, clenched his fist. This was going to hurt. He had to wake the man, and he could only think of one way of doing so. On the other hand, perhaps he did not have to be stupid when he did so.

Left hand rose, fist clenched. He focused his attention, his understanding of the blade and the wind on it. He solidified his aura as best he could, ensuring the countless worls and cyclones that made up the outer boundaries of his aura were spinning at full strength.

Ready as he could ever be, he strode across the last few steps between them. Each step increased the temperature he was facing significantly, sweat beading upon his forehead and skin. A few more steps and the sweat stopped forming, drying the moment it appeared on his skin. Talismans glowed brighter and brighter, coming closer to his form as they attempted to shield him.

Another step, nearly within reach and Wu Ying was forced to close his eyes. He could not stare at Tou He, for his eyes had hurt from the brightness and the lack of moisture around the man. The wind cultivator felt his skin crisp, blisters beginning to form across his face and hands, along all exposed skin. Even his clothing had begun to crisp and crack, portions breaking apart under the strain.

Gritting his teeth, Wu Ying threw himself forward into a lunge. Left hand, concentrated chi within it, reached for his friend. The last few cun was blistering pain, like thrusting his hand into boiling oil. Flesh boiled, a scream erupting from his mouth as he backhanded the fool.

The ex-monk staggered away, his aura flashing outward in protest and on reflex to protect himself. Wu Ying found himself thrown away by the explosion, boiling air and flame sending him skipping down the hard road like a stone over still water, his body tumbling through the air and through a trio of buildings, shattering walls and leaving behind wrecked structures till he finally fetched up against a fourth building, half inside the building itself that now leaned precariously multiple feet away.

Tou He, staggered by the blow, slowly straightened. A trickle of blood from his mouth rolled down his lips, the surprising attack by a friend having bypassed a number of reflexive defenses. However, his eyes had lost the blankness of before, confusion warring with anger for a time before the ex-monk drew a deep breath of superheated air.

And screamed.

It was a primal shout, one bereft of word though laced with meaning. It was a scream of loss and rage, of sorrow at loss of control and pain at the deaths it had caused. The monk screamed and screamed, as though he might never run out of breath, even as the flames in his aura guttered and died.

Leaving him collapsed, finally, silent on his knees in a circle of molten rock and ashen air, steam and heat waves rising around him as wind rushed inwards, constantly. His clothing, protected till that last moment, burnt to ashes on his body as his arms were thrown back.

Then, slowly, inch by inch, the ex-monk collapsed within himself, gripping his own body as though he was afraid he would fall apart or shatter if he clutched not at all or too hard. Racking sobs, dry of tears – for what tears could be shed and not evaporate in the center of his loss of control – were wrung from his body, as the ex-monk beheld the destruction he had caused.

Wu Ying stumbled out of the building, stepping gingerly over rubble to his friend, compassion in his eyes. He understood his friend’s grief, for once he had promised not to harm even a fly. In an attempt to serve and escape the confines of this grief ridden mortal plain, monks chose to offer no harm. And now, and now, his friend had walked further than ever.

Deserving or not, it was not his place to judge. No true monk would choose to bear such a burden, to accept the karmic threads and lock themselves away from nirvana.  No true monk, but Tou He had left that path many years ago. Here and now was the final measure of such a path.

Wu Ying wiped at his eyes, finding them bleary and teary. His heart ached for his friend, for the path he had walked and the final result. Slowly, he limped over to his friend, his own body bruised and aching, a rib grating deep in his chest and he swore, one of his legs had popped back into the right hip socket when he had tried to stand. And yet, that pain was nothing he knew, compared to what his friend suffered.

But as much as heart desired, body refused and Wu Ying sunk to a stop twenty feet away from his friend. Somewhere along the way, the talismans had burnt up, and he could no longer approach his oldest cultivator friend. His left arm and hand throbbed, burnt skin that he could swear he could see bone beneath running along the backhand that had struck the fire cultivator, the remainder of his skin that was not burnt, crispy flesh blistering.

Legs crossed, eyes-half lidded, he extracted a healing pill and popped it in his mouth and sat, meditating and watching his friend.

Waiting.

Even as the demons that made up this city began to stir, fear giving way to righteous anger.

And still, he stayed.

***

“Your hand,” Tou He’s voice was rough, cracked and hoarse. The ex-monk walked over to the meditating wind cultivator, his gaze locked on his friend’s injured arm. “I hurt you.”

“Pretty sure I was the one who struck you.” Wu Ying opened his eyes, then comically shut them immediately, raising a hand in front of his face too. “Oh gods, I’m blind.”

“What? No! The fire?” Tou He said, panicked.

“No. It’s too bright and white.”

Now the ex-monk was puzzled, rather than grieving. He looked around, searching for something white and bright. If anything, without his aura flaring anymore, with only the occasional fire in the distance lingering, it was much darker than before.

“I don’t understand.”

“You. You need to get a proper tan. I mean, really. It’s so pale!” Head turned away, Wu Ying gestured with his uninjured hand up and down in the direction of his friend’s body. His still naked body.

It took Tou He a few moments to understand, a fraction of the time to get offended and then, embarrassed. It was not as though, having lived and trained together, they had not caught sight of one another in the nude before. Hot baths and accidents during battle – and the occasional joke while training – had seen to that. But still, accidental nudity was a different matter.

“You… I… aargh. Just…” Flustered, Tou He conjured himself a set of robes and got dressed. The black robes with green edging with a small badge of their Sect suited him and was quickly slipped upon, the protective enchantments woven into the robes themselves protecting him from damage. “You can open your delicate eyes now, you idiot.”

Grinning, Wu Ying stood up and regarded his friend. He looked better, less focused upon the damage he had done, the deaths he had caused at this moment. In the corner of his friend’s eyes, the way they darted sideways to fires and destroyed buildings, he could tell it was not done. But, for now at least, he was focused.

“Good. I’d already been injured once, you know,” Wu Ying said. “Didn’t need a second injury.”

“You deserved that.”

“Probably.” Then, sobering up, Wu Ying cocked his head to the side. “We should go.”

“You are sensing trouble then?” Tou He flexed his hands, made to conjure his weapon and then chose against doing so after a moment. His lips thinned, the slight tremble in one hand all too apparent to Wu Ying’s concerned regard.

“The corruption has significantly lessened. My control has returned, somewhat.” Wu Ying gestured down the way they came. “Let’s get going, before they find their courage.”

Tou He nodded, then looked upwards. “Can we fly?”

A slight hesitation, eyes searching for additional trouble. It would be the safest method out, though Wu Ying disliked how low his own energy stores were at present. He could sense that his friend was not much better than him, that last explosion and the wresting of control back having drained him of energy.

Still…

“Yes. Let’s go.” Wu Ying took to the air, the wind kicking up around him. He guided it to help his friend who had extracted his staff, balancing on it as well as he followed after his friend. Together, they ascended from the ground quickly to the sky and retracted their steps.

Overhead, clouds continued to gather and the cyclone that Wu Ying had created inadvertently raged through the city. Hot air generated by Tou He’s actions combined to have increased the flow of air, such that the cyclone had increased in size. The constant roar of swirling air, the occasional flung stone as it was released from the confines of the grip and the occasional scream of the mortals behind chased after the pair as they ran.

Along with two other Core Formation demons, their bodies shadows on the ill-spent night. The final two? Wu Ying was not certain. He’d lost count, of those that they had killed and fought.

“Trouble,” Wu Ying warned his friend.

“I sense them,” Tou He said. They flew another dozen feet, the pair behind slowly catching up on the two exhausted mortal cultivators. “I’m not sure I can fight them.”

Wu Ying chose not to ask if that can was because of the most recent tragedy or because he lacked the energy to win. The answer would not matter in this case. Instead, he cast his mind and senses ahead, searching for the team and finding no trace of them.

“We might be alone on this.” Might be, sensing that, those demons had chosen to pursue them. Or perhaps they had just grown so enraged, they cared not for their lives any longer. Wu Ying cast a glance back one last time, eyeing the pair with his eyes rather than the still flickering wind sense and attenuated spirit sense. “Good thing we have some surprises left for them, no?”

“Can we not run from them?” Tou He asked, softly.

“If this was the start of the evening, certainly. Now?” Wu Ying shook his head. “I’m sorry. I will not risk our lives for theirs.”

“I understand. I should not have asked.”

Wu Ying shrugged. The pair fell silent for a time, the city dwindling beneath their feet, city walls disappearing and passing beneath as they entered the outer, barren lands. Even so, the demons chased them, passing over the city walls and all hope that they might stop, gaining some degree of sanity was lost.

A slight adjustment of the wind and Wu Ying dropped lower, letting them skim across broken buildings and cowering mortals beneath. He ignored their screams and their hiding bodies, even as he sought to pull away from their pursuers who, seeing them leave the city had sped up and were now closing the gap even more.

“Thank you. If I don’t get a chance to say it. For bringing me back to myself,” Tou He said.

“This cleansing flame. It’s not just the dragon blood, is it?” Wu Ying said in reply to his friend, shaping the wind channels so that they could speak easily.

“No. When I ascended, during the ascension, I was struck by enlightenment.” A laugh then, one filled with bitterness. “I thought it offered peace, enlightenment when it came pouring down. Instead, it twisted my own dao to that of the heavens, cleansed my flame and turned my anger into something that it wanted.

“This flame is mine to wield, except when it isn’t. The Heavens command, and I am but an instrument.”

Wu Ying’s brows furrowed. He had known the Heavens were imperious, uncaring in some ways of the wants of the humans below. Or – they cared, but in an abstract way. At least, some of them. And the Dao itself, of course, cared – or accepted. It got confusing, when the immortals about were of the heavens, but the heaven itself had its own objectives, being part of the greater Dao. And the Dao itself was not necessarily merciful – no more than a typhoon could be merciful. It just was.

But…

“That seems wrong,” Wu Ying snarled. “You are more than a tool.”

“Not for the Heavens, it seems.”

“And what of your dao? Of your path? This could, is, tearing you away from it.”

Silence greeted his words and stretched so long that Wu Ying thought his friend might have chosen to not answer him. Then, when he finally replied, it was softly. “Humanity must adapt, must they not? To the winds of fate and to the demands of Heaven? If my dao can be twisted so easily, perhaps it was the wrong dao in the first place.

“Or perhaps I just did not understand it well enough.”

More silence, as they finally reached the edge of the forest. Wu Ying had to focus further on controlling the wind, guiding the pair through the reaching branches. He stayed low, ducking between tree trunks and underneath long limbs in an attempt to eke out more space between them and their pursuers. Under the shadows of the tall canopy, the darkness of the night deepened to an extent that Wu Ying was relying on his spiritual sense and his feel of the winds ahead rather than his eyes.

Still, he had to ask.

“What was it that you saw, old friend? What path did you find, that night?” That night when they had battled an Elder dark sect member, who had transformed in his desperation. When a song had played, and in the gap of time between battle and ending, Tou He had ascended.

“A middle path. Not the Middle Path, but a middle path. One balanced between the Heavens and the Hells, one that was intrinsic to our current world and that embraced all that was before us, rather than abandoning it for the Heavens above or reincarnation,” Tou He replied.

Wu Ying almost crashed into a tree, jerking away only at the last moment as he took in what his friend had said. That path was a very mortal path, one dedicated to this world and existence in a way that Buddhism lacked. Even among the Daoist immortals, few chose to sully themselves amongst mankind to that extent. Guan Yin, the Twelve Immortals, Hoi An were a few notables.

Most others, they stood above, making judgments upon humanity and dealing with demonic incursions or just tending to the significant celestial bureaucracy required to ensure the proper running of the Thousand Hells and celestial alignments. Like the Kitchen Gods who watched all that happened, but only reported upon these wrongdoings once a year, they did not involve themselves.

“Careful there!” Tou He said, a light flare of his aura burning away the branch and shattering it as he, too slow to follow Wu Ying, had to go through the tree.

“Sorry!” Wu Ying answered and then focused. He would speak about this later with his friend. Or perhaps, not at all. After all, the monk already had enough trouble with his dao. He did not need Wu Ying prodding on the topic further.

A building of energy behind them. Twisted and sharp. Wu Ying guided the pair to the right with a sudden burst of wind, running almost parallel for a second, moments before the explosion of energy. He watched as chi – corrupted and twisted and without a guiding principle or element or even a style behind – tore through the undergrowth, destroying trees and the occasional sleeping creature in its away.

“Whoa!” Tou He cried, eyeing the destruction. “Who was that?”

“No idea. What I want to know is why he didn’t do that before?” Wu Ying replied. He could not look behind to spy upon their pursuers, so fast were they moving and so tricky was his control of the winds. Dragging his friend along and making judgements that ensured Tou He could follow was taking more attention than he cared for.

“Incoming. I have this one,” Tou He said.

Wu Ying could sense it, though only briefly. Water droplets moving at a high speed thrown forwards at them, like pebbles snatched from the ground and slung ahead. Then a flare of energy, as his friend concentrated his aura, creating a shield of fire. The two opposing elements combatted one another, before the water dispersed as proximity and strength won out.

Letting out a pained grunt, Tou He asked. “How much further?”

“Soon.” And it would be. Wu Ying could sense the the clearing that they had trapped coming ahead. He just had to get the two demons to follow them in without being suspicious. Turning his mind to flying, Wu Ying concentrated on plotting our their escape, even as the occasional attack from behind them lashed out. Tou He did his best to deal with the water cultivator while the other, raw attacker was easier to dodge, his own massive attack only releasing once more.

Then, they were there.

Wu Ying cut the flow of wind towards them, releasing his hold of the energy that held him aloft and lightened his form. He hit the ground with a slight thump, allowing his sturdier body take some of the burden of impact rather than utilize even more of his already low reserves.

Spinning around, Wu Ying took position on the far side of the clearing, his sword drawn. Tou He landed not long after, having chosen to fly the remainder of the way and brake using his staff before dropping around and sending the spinning staff backwards, deflecting a half-dozen fist sized balls of water. Those globes exploded as they came into contact with the staff, releasing a series of steam clouds before Tou He jerked his hand backwards, allowing the staff to fly back into his hands.

Moments later, the pair of hanging demons arrived, one of them bounding across the branches to crash down onto the ground with branches and leaves still caught in her hair. To Wu Ying’s surprise, surrounding her body and seeming to have grown into her body was a plant, the series of peach flowers – the hoa doa – hanging from his body via a single branch. Two of the peach flowers were dead, their petals falling down though another three still glowed, energy forming around them.

As for the second demonic cultivator, he was just as strange; swirling bands of water running along his furred body. He wielded no weapons in his hand, though long claws were curled up before him as they stared at the pair.

For a brief moment, the pairs regarded one another, weapons held before them. Breaths were stabilized, as the headlong rush had drained energy from both sides. His body turned towards his opponents, his jian held before him, Wu Ying kept his other injured hand hidden by long sleeves as he used his fingers to gently guide the tendrils of air to do his bidding.

Watching the pair of cultivators, Wu Ying felt they could have taken them without an issue normally. Neither seemed to be a martial cultivator. In normal times, they would have been a long fight, but not a difficult one. But these were not regular times, for both he and Tou He were exhausted from their earlier battles.

Nor was there a point to bringing them here, all this way after all if not to cheat. Fair fights filled with honour were for nobles and fools. He was neither.

A snarl, a shout, and the pair scattered. Water demon went left, the other bounced backwards. A flower suddenly went dead, the energy from it pulled to an untouched one on top. As a distraction, Tou He thrust his staff forwards, a gout of flame broad and wide sweeping towards both. The pair reacted, one by releasing a wave of water to combat Tou He’s attack, the other by chanelling a touch of the energy going into the flower into its own aura.

More importantly, it gave Wu Ying time enough to finish his preparations. Triggering the formation was simple enough in theory, but he had chosen to attempt to modify it further such that the effects were more focused. A few short moments of concentration, if he was uninjured and his fingers were moving properly. Right now, it was all he could do to keep them from trembling and flicking at inopportune moments. With a slight tug of energy, light filled the clearing once again and the pair of demons stumbled to a halt.

More yips, more shouts, and calls of surprise and dismay between the pair. Laced across the ground, in glittering walls of light and power were strands of energy. From outside the illusion formation, it looked no more than gossamer strands of energy, while within the illusion formation the pair in worlds of the creator’s making, driving them to distraction.

A motion, a twist, a jerk of a head. Then, the water demon stumbled backwards, blood streaming from its nose. Illusion the formation might be, but with chi coursing through their bodies and affecting their motions, a mental attack could cause damage too.

“Well, that worked,” Tou He said, slamming the edge of his staff into the ground and then leaning on it. He let out a long, thready exhale as he did so, his gaze never leaving the pair.

Wu Ying lowered his sword arm, the blade tip coming to an end. He shifted his stance so that he was not as bladed to this opponents. “So it seems.”

Perhaps he should not have said that, for at that time, the energy that had gathered across the flower burst forth. It tore through the air, shattering the delicate strands of energy that the formation had woven in the air. Wu Ying cast himself aside, thankful that the formation had trapped and turned their opponent’s around such that the attack had mostly been aimed away from them to start.

Yet, aimed away or not, the attack shattered the formation itself, destroying the frame of energy that supported the illusion itself and also one of the formation flags. Without the necessary preconditions holding forth the illusion, it shattered and freed the pair of Ma Than Vong.

“I’ve got the water demon.” Tou He suited motion to words, launching himself forth with his staff tip leading the way. Fire-heated metal cap sunk deep into flesh, even as the water vines attempted to block the attack too late. The pair disappeared out the back of the clearing, a tree shattering as they passed.

Wu Ying snorted, but he was also moving, cutting sideways with his blade. To his surprise, the flower demon ducked to the side, dodging his attack even while shaking off the lingering effects of the illusion. At the same time, the branch on the flower had begun to glow, power consolidating again. He was on a timer, it seemed, before another blast of energy.

“Well then, let’s do this.” Wu Ying whispered, gusting forwards. He led with his sword, choosing not to commit to a pure lunge on instinct. Long honed battle instincts stood him well, for moments later, a forest of branches exploded upwards, intent on pinning the wind cultivator.

He cut apart a couple while dodging the rest, idly noting that these branches were less corrupted. Almost completely free of the taint, in fact. Outside of the city itself, it seemed, the corruption was fading quickly – from both the demon and the surroundings.

Good.

Closing in, he threw a blade strike that poured energy through the motion. To his surprise, additional roots crawled upwards, blocking the attack as it formed a buckler that was then snatched away by the demon. A twist of his feet broke him free from grass that had suddenly grown outwards, grabbing at his feet even as he snarled.

If he had more energy, he would have flown. But the battles had taxed even his stores, and he was uncertain how much more fighting he would have to do. Even a newborn demon could be trouble, if they came in sufficient numbers.

No flying, just staying on the ground then. If that was the case, he needed more intelligence for the roots that speared upwards were coming too close for comfort. Another twist of his body was a touch too slow, the root bouncing off hardened spirit robes at the last moment and leaving him bruised but unharmed. Unfortunately, that attack had done one other, more dangerous thing.

It had pushed him back.

Throwing his spiritual sense at the ground, Wu Ying sought clarity. Just because he was the wind did not mean he could not feel the earth, not with his aura. However, to his surprise and shock, his senses were repelled immediately.

In his shock, Wu Ying stumbled; roots grabbing at his feet and then his sword arm, trapping him before he could move. Straining, the cultivator felt one of the roots give way, the demonic cultivator letting out a grunt of pain; only for additional roots to erupt and trap his body and arm further.

“Fool!” Cackled the demon.

Suddenly, Wu Ying understood. The demon had been expecting – planning – for him to push his senses into the ground. The entire fight, from the roots to the energy blast that he was going to use to finish him, had been planned. Even now, Wu Ying could feel the energy in the flower growing at a pace that was triple the speed of earlier.

Like a fool, he had fallen for the demonic cultivator’s trap. It might not have his direct martial experience or skills, but it had chosen to wield it well.

“Hun dan!” Cursing, Wu Ying focused deep. He had one other technique he could utilize, but the timing would be tricky. Too early and he would take the attack anyway. Too late and he would definitely be struck. More worrying was what would happen after he utilized his wind technique.

How would he finish the fight?

“You know, I’m a Gatherer. Why don’t we put down our weapons and talk some plants, or something? Maybe trade some around?”

Silence. Well, it was worth a shot.

More energy built up, and the cultivator narrowed his eyes as he forced his breathing to lengthen, as he attempted to calm his racing heart. His world became nothing more than the glowing energy around the flower, the red petals and the long stamen the focus of his being. As it seemed was the case for the demonic cultivator, for no further attacks sought Wu Ying’s life.

Not that moment.

Power building, budding and then finally, ready to fruit – before the explosion. A shriek of the wind, as it kicked up around the pair, reacting to the cultivator’s emotions, churning up dust and leaves. A shriek that pierced the air, and went deep into a primal center.

Except that shriek was no wind.

Fractions of a second before the blast arrived, Sao Choi – Nascent Soul raptor and beast companion of Colonel Huynh Bich Trang arrived. Hunting claws pierced unprotected back, destroying the delicate balance of power in vine and body, closing on flesh and skin and cracking bone. Wings flared open wide even as body was crushed and then torn from the ground, as the demon was ripped away into the sky.

Leaving Wu Ying to stare after the fast-departing demon and bird through the slowly lightening night air. His limbs still trapped, his jaw hanging open in shock. And alive. Most importantly, alive.