The Third Cut - Chapter 38 preview (Patreon)

No backlash, no condemnation of the Heavens. Wu Ying could have sworn that the Heavens themselves had aided him, pressing enlightenment and understanding on him as he faced their enemy. Had pushed the necessary knowledge down the winds such that he had known what to do, when to do it. Helped him perfect the third cut when he most needed it.

He would be grateful. Later.

“Move. Take care of the worm, finish it!” Wu Ying ordered Yang Mu as he ducked to the side, eyes fixed on their opponent.

The redirected attack had injured the creature, burnt away even more flesh and widened the wound, such that blood flowed freely from the gaping injury. More than that, around the edges of the flesh, healing that had begun had shifted, cancerous growths and tumors appearing all across it, bubbling forth and displacing healthy flesh.

Acting on his orders, Yang Mu darted to the side, her fans gone. Instead, a familiar bow appeared in her hand, enchanted arrows fitting to the bowstring. She loosed at the giant worm with smooth efficiency, sinking barbed arrows deep into the flesh. Each arrow was part of a formation, lightning crackling between each embedded shaft and growing with strength with each addition.

Dinh Don, emerging from the side, added his own paltry attacks to hers, crossbow bolts, both enchanted and chi-charged and plain sinking into the elongated body with impunity. The worm sought to escape, to twist around and catch the pair, but the elusive drunken fairy and the swift-moving, mud-skating scout eluded the massive creature whilst leading it further eat and away from the main battle.

Noise from behind, of an on-going fight. Between Thien Giang, the newer Nascent Soul creature and Sao Choi. Wu Ying cursed under his breath, wishing that creature was here, taking part in the real battle. Then again, he was beginning to realise, that bird had likely grown strong and old in this way – avoiding the dangerous fights.

Perhaps there was a lesson there that he should learn.

Later.

The corrupted ape looked put-off, having wasted time not in following up its initial attack but releasing a howl of anger that shook the leaves and sent stones from the abandoned temple tumbling. It struck its own chest, the rapid drum beat of its challenge causing Wu Ying’s teeth to ache and his ears to hurt as the metallic spikes embedded within its body rung out in resonance.

More than anger or frustration, the energy it had gathered to unleash – twice now – had drained the ape. The flow of energy had decreased significantly, the lights on the metallic spikes dimming. The glowing eldritch runes around it had faded a little from the attack itself and faded again even as the other members of the team attacked it, runes flickering through different colours and fading in different order as the attacks landed.

All but two.

One, was his friend.

Tou He had stopped attacking when the monster had unleashed the pulse of energy from its arm. Stepping back, the ex-monk had placed the staff low against his hip, the tip pointed a little high and above his sternum. His breathing had slowed, his aura churning and concentrating, beginning at the outer edges of his body and then flowing through his hands into the tip of his staff. Not a single other motion did he make, standing there as he focused his energy into a singular strike.

Wu Ying wondered what that attack was called.

The second fighter who chose not to participate was Be Long. The Captain was half-sunk and on his side, smoke rising from his armour and a rictus of pain on his face. Propped up on his splayed open legs, kept out of the churning mud was a mirror, lights ticking off one after the other.

Moments. It had taken Wu Ying moments to assess the fight anew, dart out of the way of the next expected attack which hadn’t come, take to the air to avoid being sucked into the slowly firming mud and unleash a half-dozen wind blades of his own.

None of which had done more than any other attack to the protective shielding around the damn corrupted ape. He saw maybe a couple of the runes switch and fade, but they were soon replaced as more flesh, more runes tore from the apes body.

As though it was mocking him, the ape stopped striking its chest, dropped down to its knuckles, body twisted in a lopsided manner as the grotesque, twisted splinter of an arm touched the floor first and fixed its gaze on Wu Ying.

“Why me? What did I do to you?” the wind cultivator muttered.

A spiral of water, rising from the churning mud, clean and pure struck the glowing energy cloud. It hissed and disappeared in a rolling cloud of steam, and Wu Ying watched as a single rune, taking the brunt of the attack faded and fell to the ground.

Phuong Vy continued to lob small spheres of poisonous smoke and powder at the same sphere, but none penetrated, the spheres disappearing as quickly as they appeared. Mostly, however, she was peering at the runes, muttering under breath.

“I nearly have it!” she said.

“Be quick about it!” Bich Trang snarled, her hands moving through the motions as she dragged more moisture from the surroundings to form another stream to attack the beast. A beast that had chosen to lift its corrupted arm outwards, even as a new rune peeled off it and joined the swirling mass around it. Doing so dimmed the spikes further, the energy pulsing within subsiding again.

Another buildup of power in the corrupted arm, the creature readying another attack.

“Again? Do you not have any other tricks?”

Wu Ying focused his energy, hard as it was and pushed himself further upwards. No fancy tricks this time. If he was going to avoid that attack, he best have his full mobility. In the sky, he waited, drifting in the wind as he felt the energy grow.

Waited to see who acted next.

***

“There!” Phuong Vy said, acting first. A single need flickered out, glowing white as it struck a rublood red and yellow rune.

Tou He, in his black robes and green edging and wielding his metal-tipped staff, took a single step and thrust with the tip of his staff. It moved faster than a striking serpent, leaving a trail of blazing energy that ignited the air as it moved to strike the marked rune.

Purifying flame, concentrated into a single attack struck with the strength of a falling boulder. Upon touching the rune, the corrupted flesh blackened and shriveled, the energy around the runic web rushing to concentrate in a point around the striking ape.

At the same time, all that energy that had been built up exploded outwards too, unable to penetrate the shield. It threw Phuong Vy back, burnt away the hastily constructed sphere of water that protected the Colonel and threw chaotic but clean winds into the air to buffet Wu Ying.

Yet, the attack was not without cost to the corrupted ape. One after the other of the flesh runes failed, their eldritch green and yellow light fading. The shield around it finally shattered, the ex-monk’s staff progressing another half-inch before the impetus of his attack finally ended.

“NOW!” Bich Trang, smoking but still on her feet cried out in command.

The wind cultivator thrust his sword downwards, pouring energy and sword intent into a killing strike. At the same time, he knew he was not the one spoken to.

Instead, it was Be Long and his mirror that unleashed the contained energy of the captured attack. From within the mirror, rather than a stream of concentrated chi or compressed killing and blade intent, what emerged was a stream of choking ash and smoke. It flowed down the surroundings in a stream of twisted grey and black smoke, moving even more swiftly than the compressed air blades Wu Ying wielded to strike their opponent.

The corrupted axe raised its grafted arm, the massive limb turned sideways such that the attack struck the back of its body. Smoke splashed like water and the flowed around the limb, clinging to it even as hot ash burnt skin and filled the air with choking corruption.

Forced back by the strike, the other Core Formation cultivators retreated. Wu Ying’s own attack was absorbed into the cloud, disappearing with barely and sign but a rippling in the cloud. The sound of whistling gale winds, the hiss of burning flesh and the cry of pain from within was all the sounds that arose from their clearing, even as the noise of on-going battles continued from the other two locations where the remaining Nascent Soul beasts were.

In the meantime, none of the cultivators – barring Be Long who strained to keep the attack aimed and targeted at their opponent – were taking a break. Bich Trang, retreated to the furthest location was concentrating, drawing forth ground water and moisture from the air and the mud to her as she built up a globe of water. Phuong Vy, having retreated to the edges of the clearing was scribbling on a floating piece of paper, creating a formation on the spot. Wu Ying knew not the purpose, but even a glance at the sheet of paper she wielded, twice the height of herself and he knew it would be fiendishly complex in execution and formation.

As for Tou He, having unleashed his own attack had retreated to the edges and had splayed his own aura to the surroundings, causing the ambient temperature to skyrocket further. Small patches of fire would appear in the air or on the ground, as the purifying flames consumed the corruption all around them, reducing the environmental advantage that their opponent fought under.

Above them all, the wind cultivator floated in the air without a word; weapon held by his side and in consideration. He sought calm and silence within his own mind, sharpening the killing edge of his intent as he waited to strike. No hasty outpouring, no built up attack for him. That was not the way of the Wandering Dragon.

No. He would strike quickly and sharply, without warning to the creature that came at them, and he would wield the first or second form as necessary.

Assuming the attack faltered at some point.

As suddenly as it had begun, the attack ceased. A half dozen breaths since it began, the stream of ash and smoke ended. Be Long’s mirror, held in hand shattered, showering the surroundings with slivers of glass and silver.

Within the cloud, only silence at first. Straining his hearing, his spiritual sense, Wu Ying noticed it then. Harsh, irregular breathing, a huffing and snarling noise. He opened his mouth to cry a warning to the others, but was once more, too late.

It was always too late when one fought a Nascent Soul creature. Too fast, too smart, too instinctive. Each fighter had to look out for themselves, for a moment’s inattention was all it took. Stone sprayed outwards, as legs bunched and pushed off, the monster leaping across the distance in a single explosive motion.

It reached, snatched and tore and turned around, the earth tearing in a long gouge that reached nearly the end of the clearing. The monster hooted and hollored, holding up its still dripping prize as the body left behind slowly slumped onto muddy earth, submerging armour as blood gushed from the stump.

Headless.

In burnt and hairless arm, metal rod embedded within half melted and other rods glowing a deep cherry red, Be Long’s head hung, eyes wide in surprise, mouth moving a touch as soul and mind caught up with its abrupt death. Then the light faded, and the beast moved again.