The Fourth Stage - Chapter 8 preview (Patreon)

Wu Ying stood there, arms down by his side as he stared at his latest opponent. Elder Mo, Head of the Outer Sect, led his charge with the tip of his spear. Killing intent filled the spear tip, a killing intent that had been sharpened by decades of study and training, of existence and focus. Behind that killing intent came the sharpness of the metal, the razor edge that it had been honed to and the hard, unyielding ferocity of metal itself.

Elder Mo was not playing or putting on a show fight. He was intent on – at the least – injuring Wu Ying, if not killing him outright. The killing intent he had built, the point of the spear aimed at him, it was all clear to the experienced fighter. The energy that the man built up, shrouding his aura in a burnished bronze sheen that glinted in the sky as he leapt forwards. It was all clear.

Dangerous. Surprising, that someone who was in Wu Ying’s initial estimation nothing more than a bureaucrat could have summoned so much killing intent.

But for Wu Ying who had spent the last decade fighting, who had spent the decade before that traversing one crisis after another, the man’s killing intent was weak. Like drops of blood spilt into a cup, the killing intent stained Elder Mo’s aura and darkened it, giving it an edge that would overwhelm a weaker opponent.

That was not Wu Ying. He had drunk deep of that chaos, his own aura stained so inedibly that sometimes, he wondered if it should not be red itself. Mortal, cultivator, spirit and demonic beast. He had fought them all and killed so many, and when he had a choice, he might have chosen to save. But all too often, his blade had been unsheathed and had drunk deep of the lifeblood of his opponents.

A tilt of his head to the right, a lean of the body forwards preceded by a small step. That was all it took for him to sidestep the attack, even as the sharpened edge of blade intent tore through space in a screaming cry that send sand blasting outwards from atop the stone stand and cracked the stone behind. Wu Ying’s own aura blocked the side effects of being so close to the other, taking the edges of his opponent’s hardened edges and tearing it down by pieces.

In the meantime, having completed his step and whilst his opponent was still in the air, he pivoted on his front foot and turned his body. Right hand struck, projected blade intent and sword dao piercing the hardened aura in a single, focused strike.

The energy from the attack struck his opponent in the stomach, forcing his opponent to exhale forcefully and his own attack to be disrupted. He was sent skipping backwards and away at an angle, striking the ground and bouncing off the flooring before finally coming up against the wall. To Elder Mo’s credit, he had managed to right himself such that his backfoot struck the back of the wall first, his spear leveled in guard position.

Leveled at an opponent that had only turned, hands coming back behind his back as he regarded his opponent nonchalantly.

A brief moment, then Elder Mo bent over, vomiting brackish blood as the damage from the compressed energy attack spread across his body. He coughed and spat, then straightened as he forcibly pushed the pain aside, wiping at the strings of saliva and blood with his sleeve.

“You…” Elder Mo snarled, taking a step forward. A small movement from behind Wu Ying, a motion he sensed through the wind, showed Guardian Pang holding a hand up to stop the other. He halted, anger and shame warring on his face.

“Is that all?” Wu Ying said, his voice relaxed. Insultingly so. Just like his unarmed strike against Elder Mo while he wielded a weapon. “Or do you have others you intend to send?”

“Arrogance is the downfall of many cultivators,” Guardian Pang said, even as his eyes flicked over the surroundings in search of support or another victim. Wu Ying idly noted some Elders looking away, refusing to meet the Guardian’s gaze, others staring back with challenging smirks or bored expressions. Then, his gaze landed on a man and he nodded a little.

Wu Ying turned away from Elder Mo, tracking Guardian Pang’s gaze to the man that hopped down. He was surprised to see it was Elder Hsu who jumped down, already shedding his robe to showcase the massive thews and impressive musculature beneath his robes.

“Elder Hsu?” Wu Ying said, curiously. No panic, he could not showcase any concern, even if the Elder was an actual martial cultivator.

“How could I turn a chance to test an old student?” There was a manic gleam in the man’s eyes, battle lust rising as he strode over. He was utilizing a strange movement technique, not the Wind Steps of the Verdant Green Waters but an earth-aspected movement technique where the ground threw him forward with each motion. Each step built his momentum, and two dozen feet away, energy flooded out from the ground, exploding the sand and throwing the Elder the rest of the way.

Wu Ying, briefly, considered meeting the Elder unarmed as well. But he neither wished to insult the Elder nor was he entirely confident he could win against the man in his own specialization. Even now, Wu Ying could recall being slowly suffocated as the snail-style Elder had caught and pulled him into a suffocating embrace, beating his struggles down one cun at a time.

And that was when the other had suppressed his cultivation to his level.

Dragon unsheathes his Claws sent an arc of blade energy at Elder Hsu. Even as he drew the weapon, he kicked backwards, putting space between him and the fast moving opponent. He could take to the skies, throw blade strikes at Elder Hsu till his opponent was worn down. A viable tactic, though he doubted the Elder did not have a method of handling such opponents. Considering that, and considering he was here to make a point, he chose to stay close to the ground.

It nearly cost him.

Massive waves of sand erupted from the ground behind him, sweeping upwards with little warning. It slammed down upon him, too fast for Wu Ying to dodge as the sand wave tightened themselves in an attempt to hold him down.

Elder Hsu, one hand bloody from a blade strike that he had blocked with his arm directly reached the newly created sand hill. He reached towards the sand hill, but then surprise registered on his face even as he threw himself backwards.

Moments later, a globe of spinning air tore the sand hill apart, expanding outwards and scouring the surroundings. The sphere of rotating air transformed into a cyclone, pulling the sand in the surroundings into the air and obscuring the vision of those around.

In the corner, Elder Mo who had yet to leave the arena formed a simple shield of woven metal to block the fast moving obstacles. Elder Hsu closed his eyes and clapped one hand over them, even as he wove the sand that flew through the air into a secondary form of armour to protect himself from the fast moving debris.

Though sight was blocked, for the Elders watching, it was but a simple matter to extend their spiritual senses into the arena. None of them were fools, but shock registered on more than one face as they realised that only a pair of familiar spiritual auras could be sensed within the sandstorm.

Of Wu Ying’s own aura, they could find no trace.

Casting around, Elder Hsu searched for his opponent, utilizing his own control of the element to spread the earth, to sending crashing waves through the surroundings in an attempt to find his opponent. A disturbance in motion, a strange twisting in the air was all he required to find Wu Ying.

The rumbling crash of sand falling, the hiss of spinning wind, the too dry air that seared the throat and brought with it the hint of dust and metal. Every moment, the sand scoured the skin, threatening to flay unprotected skin apart and tore holes in the robes with each moment. Yet the wandering gatherer might as well be the wind.

Spinning around, Elder Hsu hissed, arms rising and twisting. Nothing. Nothing. Not-…

“Urk!” He froze, the sharp edge of the blade pressed against hardened flesh along the neck, drawing a trace of blood. Ren cut with the barest of touches, the dao of the blade edge added to Wu Ying’s own dao of the blade more than sufficient to cut through base flesh.

“Careful, Elder. Ren is extremely sharp,” Wu Ying cautioned.

Elder Hsu shifted back ever so slightly and gingerly, relaxing a little when Wu Ying allowed him to do so without projecting the chi further. “So I see. That is… quite the weapon.” Eyes wide, he stared down the blade to the steady hand that held the jian. All around them, the wind died down, the sand dropping to the ground and visibility returning. At the same time, Wu Ying’s aura extended such that it was visible to the audience once more.

“I yield.” Elder Hsu said, and Wu Ying relaxed the blade, bringing it back towards him. Even as he did so, he flexed his aura to destroy the blood around the tip of his blade. Elder Hsu nodded gratefully, though he could not help but add. “If I had managed to get my hands on you though, I could have won.”

“It was not a chance I was willing to take, it’s true,” Wu Ying said.

Elder Hsu’s eyes narrowed at the answer, but he chose to step back further. Wu Ying sheathed his weapon, even as the sphere that had hidden Elder Mo broke apart to reveal the Elder still squatting on his ankles, chi churning through his body as he engaged a healing technique.

“We should do this again,” Elder Hsu said as he stepped away, only to freeze as Wu Ying held a hand up.

“Wait a moment, if you will, Senior.” Once he confirmed the man’s agreement, Wu Ying turned to Guardian Pang. “Why don’t you come down yourself. If you wish to test me, do so yourself rather than sending others. Or do you fear defeat too?”

“You are cocky, boy!” Guardian Pang stood up, a hand slamming down on the banister and cracking it. “But some of us understand proper behavior.”

Wu Ying smirked. “Right. Of course protocol and etiquette are the reason you hold back. But know that I’m happy to take you on, with Elder Hsu and Elder Mo assisting. If you feel the battle is not sufficiently weighed in your favour, of course.”

“Senior!” Guardian Pang spun around and looked upward again. “Do you hear this child continue to insult the sect and it’s traditions? Why would you ever let him wear our robes?”

Silence, then the Shu Ren spoke again, once. Softly.

“Go.”

Elder Pang began to smirk, before he realised that the command was not directed at Wu Ying. He froze, even as the pressure from the box above pushed at him, urging him off his own box. Unable to refuse, he leapt down onto the arena sand, lips tight.

Wu Ying could not help but smirk a little, only sobering a little when Elder Hsu glared at him.

“My apologies, Senior. I had not intended for you to be caught in this, but as you volunteered before…” he shrugged.

The muscular Elder, still bare-chested wiped at the cut on his neck. It had already closed off, leaving only a trickle of drying blood behind. Staring at the bloody thumb, the martial elder grinned. “Well, it teaches me to jump forth without thinking. But be warned, I won’t hold back anymore.”

“Anymore?” Wu Ying eyes widened, moments before he felt another surge of killing intent from Guardian Pang. It was matched moments later by that of Elder Hsu, and in a much dimmer manner, Elder Mo.

It seemed he was in for a real fight now.