Tai Haoran's morning ritual began with taking his pills. He woke up early, near the crack of dawn, doing his stretches and his first meditation of the day. He emptied his mind of all worries, of all nightmares and dreams, the mortal attempt to merge with the universe. Then, he made his breakfast, a simple bowl of rice with tea. Most of the protein that his body needed to encourage muscle growth would come from lunch and dinner, and at those meals Tai Haoran would gorge himself like a tiger, eating as much as he could. But breakfast, and the morning, was a time for speed and lithe movement, there was no need for a heavy meal to weigh him down.
So rice it was. With the tea that his mother had taught him how to make, before her untimely demise. She had always told him that they shared the same heart.
She had died from hers.
And so he was grateful for the pills, the medicine that Wang Ro the Elder prescribed to him.
(Never knowing that they were filled with mere sugar, the machinations of Grandmaster Zhou's other student, Xiao Rai.)
When he stepped out into the open courtyard from his room, he found that Grandmaster Zhou awaited him, staff in hand. The storm had abated after the night's thrashing, but the clouds still hung overhead like spectres, still plump with rain, still ready to unleash a fresh deluge upon the world. Memories of his mother's stories swam in Tai Haoran's mind, of the great floods that Dà Xiàng had created by drinking in water and spewing it from his trunk onto his back.
He found himself missing her today.
But he snapped to attention as he stood up straight in front of his master. Grandmaster Zhou raised an eyebrow at him, scratched his nose.
“Begin with the Third Lotus Stance,” he said.
Tai Haoran complied, contorting his body. This was a difficult stance, one that was more for dance and show than for practical combat. It forced an irregular breathing on the body. It collected Anri in the pools of the arms.
It was a warm-up for the swelling and expelling of Anri. They were using the supernatural aspects of the body today.
“Breathe in,” Grandmaster Zhou said, “Breathe out.”
Tai Haoran did so.
“Unleash Anri using the Third Realm's might,” Grandmaster Zhou said, “A beam, Tai Haoran, a beam.”
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Tai Haoran shifted his footing. His stance. Legs spread apart and bent, his arms strapped to his sides, his forearms jutting, his hands balled into fists. Anri welled through his system as he released a punch.
Fire expelled from the blow. Anri converted into flame, flame so hot it became white as ivory, so condensed that instead of a conflagration it shot off as a beam of light and destruction. Tai Haoran's White Flame sailed past the temple and into the cloudy sky, only dissipating when Tai Haoran stopped breathing in and out.
There was a pause.
Then Grandmaster Zhou nodded.
“Good,” he said, “Very good.”
Tai Haoran flashed him a ferocious smile.
“If your Hand of Light is that perfect on your one hundredth strike, you will ascend to the Fourth Realm in no time,” Grandmaster Zhou said, “But first you must be perfect. So practice one hundred times. Do not think of sparring. Do not think of anything else. Simply concentrate on the Hand of Light.”
“Yes, master,” Tai Haoran said.
“I will be resting, I think,” Grandmaster Zhou said, “The rain is making old bones creak, it's...”
He trailed off, for a newcomer was ascending the steps to the monastery. Wang Ro the Younger looked at the master and student, panting a bit from his climb, before he bowed to both of them.
But he spoke to Tai Haoran.
“Wang Ro the Elder requests your presence, Master,” he said.
“'Master,'” Tai Haoran said, and he preened, “That has a nice ring to it.”
“Humility, my student,” Grandmaster Zhou said, “Humility.”
And he smiled, too.
“But you will make master yet, eh?”
Tai Haoran's smirk widened. He turned to consider Wang Ro the Younger.
“And why does our physician have need of me?” he asked, “I am in the middle of my lessons.”
Wang Ro the Younger hesitated. Glanced over his shoulder. Tai Haoran's eyes narrowed.
“What is the matter, Wang Ro?” he said.
“...Baba said it was in regards to Zheng Jo,” Wang Ro the Younger whispered, “He has... He told me not to say anything, but...”
“Say nothing else,” Tai Haoran said, “I will be there.”
The Anri user turned to his master.
“May I have leave?”
“You may,” Grandmaster Zhou said, his voice grave, “...Tai Haoran, I ask that you practice the Hand of Light on a living soul, if you must.”
Tai Haoran nodded.
“I will.”
He bowed. And went with Wang Ro the Younger down the stairs.
***
The clinic was closed for the morning. None of the usual visits. None of the usual patients. Wang Ro the Elder was waiting quietly for Tai Haoran's arrival at the front door.
“My son,” he said, “Go play with Pan Bao. Speak nothing of this.”
“Baba-”
“Nothing, Wang Ro,” his father said, and his eyes glittered dangerously, “Now. Go.”
Wang Ro the Younger nodded, his face pale, and he turned and all but fled from the clinic. Tai Haoran watched the young boy run away, turning a corner to Pan Baihu's estate. Wang Ro the Elder had never spoken to him like that, not once. He turned, and gave the physician a bow.
“Come,” Wang Ro the Elder said. He opened the door.
And as soon as the White Flame entered, he closed the door. Locked it.
“What is the matter?” Tai Haoran asked, “What did that newcomer do?”
Wang Ro the Elder moved back over to his desk. Sat down. There was an uncharacteristic jitter in his hands as he clasped them together.
“Sit down, Tai Haoran,” he said.
Tai Haoran raised an eyebrow, but nonetheless moved over and sat.
“What is wrong?” he asked.
Wang Ro the Elder closed his eyes. Took a deep breath. Pushed his glasses up from the bridge of his nose. When he opened them again, they were hardened like twin geodes.
“I have evidence that Zheng Jo is not who he says he is.”
“Yes, and?”
“I have reason to believe he is an Anri user.”
Tai Haoran grimaced. But he knew that Grandmaster Zhou had always suspected.
(And, of course, Wang Ro the Elder was not about to speak of Zheng Jo as a metahuman. Enough secrets were being revealed as it was.)
“A dangerous one?”
“Yes,” Wang Ro the Elder said, “I had Tan Fa go down to Old Gate City yesterday to see if the Three Sons Trading Company, the organization Zheng Jo told us he was a part of, actually existed. It did not.”
Tai Haoran nodded.
“He also exhibited the use of Anri during his investigation out in the mountains,” Wang Ro the Elder said, “He produced an eagle's head made of... blue light.”
“So he is an Anri user,” Tai Haoran said. And, thinking of Zheng Jo, and his reasonable nature, he hesitated.
No one was ever one thing, yes?
He was an Anri user, but he was a quiet one. He had not even gone to the monastery. When a rival sect challenged the incumbent, they did so with a bombastic air. Scores of practitioners dropping into the courtyard and demanding the death of every master in the temple. But Zheng Jo had not done this.
He always seemed to be a man who wished to be left alone, and get his research finished.
And Wang Ro the Elder noted Tai Haoran's unspoken reluctance. And introduced another lie. The slander of Zheng Jo began.
“...He threatened my son,” the physician said.
Tai Haoran's eyes flashed up at Wang Ro the Elder's face. But the Darwinist was an expert in the ways of deceit. He betrayed no sign of dishonesty.
“My son, you know how he asks his questions,” Wang Ro the Elder continued, “He is curious about the world.”
“Yes,” Tai Haoran said, and his voice was controlled. Yet the venom was there.
“He pushed, perhaps, a bit too far. Zheng Jo roared at him. Told him to get out. Told him he would kill him for asking too many questions.”
Wang Ro the Elder inserted just the right amount of worry into his voice. Just enough fear.
It was not difficult for Tai Haoran to devour the lie.
Wang Ro the Younger was, perhaps not a friend, but someone that Tai Haoran liked. A younger brother, separated as he was from the Anri user's life.
And Zheng Jo always seemed to be an angry man, beneath his civility. It was not unreasonable.
“I believe he has his own private designs, Tai Haoran,” Wang Ro the Elder said, “There is a reason why he is going out into the wilderness, and I do not believe it is for research. He has already spoken with Zi Shi Ying.”
“You think he is communing with the spirits,” Tai Haoran said.
“Yes,” Wang Ro the Elder said, “He is weak now. But he may be trying to amass power, in some way. Some Anri users will do this. They will be quiet as they broker deals with the spirits of the land, to help them take over rival sects. It is not a good situation.”
“No, it is not,” Tai Haoran said, and he was starting to see red, “I think we must remove this Zheng Jo, before he threatens anyone else.”
He rose from his seat.
And Wang Ro the Elder brought up a calming hand.
“Patience, Tai Haoran,” he said, “Listen to what I have to say.”
Tai Haoran glared. It took not a small amount of willpower to sit back down, to not immediately storm out and find Zheng Jo and ram a fist through his chest.
“Most of the town does not know,” he said, “So if you go out and attack Zheng Jo now, it will be difficult to get them out of the way. A battle between Anri users causes quite a bit of collateral damage. We harm the town by attacking him there.”
“This...” Tai Haoran grimaced, “This is true.”
“Zheng Jo and I are going out to survey the land once more, just after breakfast,” Wang Ro the Elder said, “You will come with us as a bodyguard. Ostensibly for myself, against any potential banditry. When we find a suitable place, you can kill him there.”
Tai Haoran nodded.
“This is agreeable to me,” Tai Haoran said, “Where did you have in mind?”
Wang Ro the Elder brought a hand to his chin. Then he looked at Tai Haoran.
“Green Serpent Pass.”
***
Guo Liling did not bother Zheng Jo when he came downstairs the next morning for breakfast. Nor did he talk to her. He gave her the usual smile, yes, but it was no longer genuine, a polite facade, and nothing more. He ate quietly, flipping through his journal, making a few notes here and there. He returned to his room after breakfast, presumably to continue his work. And, when he was finished, he made his departure, walking stick in hand, saying nothing as he took his leave.
From her place at the bar, Guo Liling sighed. She heard her father shuffle to her side.
“You pressed him too much, Little Jasmine,” he said.
“I did, Baba.”
“Perhaps that is for the best. Not all questions need to be answered. Not all curiosities need be sated.”
He moved off, to wipe down the table Zheng Jo had been sitting at.
And, privately, Guo Liling disagreed with her father's assertion.
***
Joseph noted that Xiao Rai was not today's bodyguard for the trip. Tai Haoran, the ever-shirtless, stood beside Wang Ro the Elder, his arms crossed over his bare chest, his mustache twitching as his lip moved as he considered Joseph. Joseph walked over with his head held high.
“Zheng Jo,” Wang Ro the Elder said, “I trust your morning has been fine?”
“Yeah, nothing crazy,” Joseph replied, “No Xiao Rai today?”
“Xiao Rai is busy with her chores,” Tai Haoran said, and Joseph noted an edge in his voice, “But have no fear. I will be here to protect Wang Ro the Elder on this trip.”
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
But not Joseph.
The metahuman made a note to watch his step.
“Right,” Joseph said, “Well, then, shall we be off?”
“Yes,” Wang Ro the Elder said, “To Golden Lion Mine.”
***
And they set off. Across the hills, crossing the same rickety bridges and seeing the same landmarks.
It was not until just before lunch that Wang Ro the Elder veered off the path. Tai Haoran, almost instinctively, followed him. Joseph paused at this, his brow furrowing. He produced the map from his pack, looking it over.
“Ah, guys,” he said, “You're going the wrong way.”
Wang Ro the Elder stopped, turned to consider Joseph with a raised eyebrow. Joseph cleared his throat.
“Golden Lion Mine is to the west of us. That path takes you north. To...”
He looked down at the map, translating the names of landmarks in his head.
“Green Serpent Pass,” he said.
“Ah, yes,” Wang Ro the Elder said, “I was actually going to mention this to you, Zheng Jo. But there is actually a hidden shortcut through Green Serpent Pass. It was used during the days of the Hai Dynasty to smuggle in booze to the workers.”
“Booze,” Joseph said, his voice flat.
“It won't be on that map,” Wang Ro the Elder said, “The path was carved and used after that map's creation.”
Joseph paused.
Above, the thunder warned of the incoming storm.
“We will want to be quick with this trip, Zheng Jo,” Wang Ro the Elder said, “It may very well be the same as the other day. We may not be able to get to Golden Lion Mine in time.”
Joseph bit his lip. There was a cadence to Wang Ro the Elder's voice. Something was in there that set him on edge. But...
Above, the thunder drummed, closer this time.
Wang Ro the Elder's point remained. They would probably run out of time, if they didn't take the shortcut.Tai Haoran let out a huff, glaring at Joseph. The metahuman decided.
“Alright,” he said, “Lead the way.”
But he made sure to take up the rear of their three-man party as they went.
***
It was called Green Serpent Pass for the river that ran at the bottom of the ravine, ending in a pool at the ravine's end. From above, it gave the river the appearance of a snake, and algae and moss in the water colored the river a rich green. Fish rarely came up the river, primarily because the pool of water was close in proximity to Fish Eater, one of the local spirits.
“He will not accost us, Zheng Jo,” Wang Ro the Elder said, “Fish Eater is most likely downriver, for the fish are more plentiful there when it rains.”
“Makes sense,” Joseph said.
They were curling around the edges of the ravine, sticking close to the passage that had been carved by smugglers hundreds of years before. There was some truth to Wang Ro the Elder's words. The passage here had been used for its original purpose. It would, if one were to go along its way, lead to Golden Lion Mine.
A stone bridge, created by an Anri user long ago, connected the two sides of the ravine like an umbilical cord. The middle point of the journey. From the other side of the ravine, they would climb and weave until they came upon Golden Lion Mine's southern entrance.
Wang Ro the Elder and Tai Haoran stopped for a moment, exchanging glances. The bridge had no rails. It was a simple piece of work, all told, and Joseph wasn't even sure if it would be able to hold weight.
But then Wang Ro the Elder started crossing. He made it halfway before Tai Haoran started.
Above, the thunder roiled. Warned.
There was...
There was something wrong.
There was a way that Tai Haoran viewed Joseph. A glint in Wang Ro the Elder's eyes.
And now Joseph was crossing the bridge, Tai Haoran's muscular back dominating his view. He could see Wang Ro the Elder reaching the other side.
Below them was the pool of water that was the Green Serpent's head. Something there was disturbed, the echoing sounds of a crane spearing a frog in the lilypads at the lake's edge.
And the blow came swiftly. Tai Haoran spun, leg sweeping at Joseph's head. The metahuman ducked, dodged back as Tai Haoran took his stance, advanced, his fist surging forward. Joseph grimaced, was not prepared as the fist rammed into his stomach, a second into the side of his head. Joseph brought up an arm for the third blow, one that would have been the fatal strike. He caught the chopping hand by the wrist, rushing forward and ramming a shoulder into Tai Haoran's chest, forcing the Anri user back.
The two separated. Joseph let out a wheeze, his head thundering as his wits caught up with him. Tai Haoran was already taking his stance again. Legs spread apart and bent, his arms strapped to his sides, his forearms jutting, his hands balled into fists.
On the other side of the bridge, Wang Ro the Elder sat down. And watched.
So it had come to that, then. Joseph felt like an idiot.
But, idiot or not, he wasn’t going to die here.
And so he raised his fists, assumed a boxer's dance, legs shuffling back and forth.
“Alright, wise guy,” he said to Tai Haoran, “Bring it.”
***
Tai Haoran had fought three other Anri users, aside from Xiao Rai and Grandmaster Zhou. He had been sent out, in a rather clandestine way, out of the Opal Hills, to seek out traveling Anri users who were out of their sects on business, away from their monasteries and the safety of their masters. Each had wielded a different style, used different techniques. He had killed all three, and returned home with victory and bloodied fists.
And Zheng Jo's style was unique, too, one that emphasized using the fists as his main weapon. His legs danced back and forth, and his entire body bobbed and weaved like a dancing serpent as he waited for Tai Haoran's move.
Tai Haoran started to rush forward-
And received a shot in the jaw for his trouble. Zheng Jo's arm hot out like a mantis's, returned quickly back. It was not a devastating punch. It was one to test Tai Haoran's defenses.
But Tai Haoran was no paper tiger.
He surged forward like liquid flame, Anri willing itself around his fists, heat rushing around him as he became enraptured in fire. Zheng Jo danced back, dodged each strike save for the last. The last blow, a fist wrapped in heat, clipped the side of his head, seared his hair, tore through the skin of his temple.
But-
But Zheng Jo had intended this. He moved inside of Tai Haoran's guard, his own fist slamming directly into Tai Haoran's face. For all of his appearances, Zheng Jo hit hard. It was as though a Tai Haoran had been bludgeoned by a bundle of bricks. He stumbled back, his eyes flashing and seeing stars. His nose was broken, he knew it.
Zheng Jo had fallen to his knees, a hand reaching up to check his own wound. But any cut from the strike would have been cauterized from the flames. Nevertheless, he poked at the wound with a finger, before looking at his hand.
And he nodded.
And he resumed his stance.
Tai Haoran glared at him through a broken nose, gauged his enemy's stance. Pondered how best to take him down.
And, after a moment, he noticed it.
***
Tai Haoran was smart. He was going for the head. Hit there enough times, and it didn't matter if you had good reaction, not when your brain was juggling around in the case that was its skull. Joseph had learned this from Coach Tristan, way back during his time on Earth, when he had first started boxing.
“Hit 'em in the thinker, son,” Coach Tristan said, “Don't worry about their body. You got to go for the knockout as quick as you can. Counterpunching ain't just about how much you can take. It's about how much you can throw. Got it?”
“Got it,” Joseph said now, under his breath.
He debated, for a moment, about revealing his metapower. But no. Not yet. Not when this fight was just getting started. The key to defeating a metahuman was learning their ability. He would save using his powers for a critical moment.
And now Tai Haoran was advancing on him once more. He moved with effortless grace, like a crane, like a tiger, as he flipped into the air and brought a leg downwards like an axe. Joseph had no guard for this, so all he could do was retreat back.
As soon as the kick landed, splintering stone, Tai Haoran spun on the ground, his hands holding him aloft, his legs rushing towards Joseph's side. Joseph took the blows, bringing his arms up to his head to protect himself.
Fire rushed around him. Singed his clothes. Singed his skin. He grimaced as he burned. Tai Haoran was back on his feet now, moving in close, jabbing at Joseph, who hunkered down. He wanted to find a blow that he could counter, but by now Tai Haoran's flames were fully wrapped in fire. He was dodging more than flesh now.
He would need to use his metapower soon.
Tai Haoran's blows were still aimed at his head. Joseph raised his guard-
And realized his error.
And the words of his second teacher, his guildmate Mekke, came roaring at him.
“Boxing stances emphasize protecting the upper body and the head, as the fists are the only weapon to fear when facing someone in the ring.”
Tai Haoran sweeped low, his kick aimed at Joseph's knee.
“Out in the field, your opponent will use everything – their arms, their legs, and whatever weapons they may be carrying. By lowering your hands, you protect your lower body and legs a bit more.”
And Joseph had raised his guard too high.
The kick forced Joseph's knee in, not enough to break but enough to make Joseph stumble.
And Tai Haoran, with the same leg, twisted, smashed it into Joseph's head.
The metahuman stumbled.
Tai Haoran kicked him again, this time with Anri, this time with flame, and caustic heat burned through Joseph's ribs, branded his skin, and the blow sent him careening off the edge of the bridge.
***
For a moment, Tai Haoran stood triumphant on the bridge as he watched Zheng Jo sail off the edge.
But his dark smile faltered, the relief spreading through his system ceased, as he watched Zheng Jo spin. Their fight on the bridge had moved them back over to the bridge's beginning, and Zheng Jo was close to the wall of the ravine.
A claw pulled loose from Zheng Jo's back. The color of cobalt, it heralded a full being's eruption, like a cicada from its molt, large and with a hawk's head, it rammed its talons into the ravine's side, slowing Zheng Jo's descent.
“So this is Zheng Jo's technique,” Tai Haoran said to himself. His heart was beating quickly, so quickly that one would not be able to feel the pause between each pulse.
For Tai Haoran had read about many sects and many Anri techniques. But he had never seen one such as Zheng Jo's.
That would not deter him.
Tai Haoran took his stance. And prepared to use the Hand of Light.
***
It was a desperate move, to reveal himself so completely like this.
The eagle, however, had saved Joseph's life. Like a gorilla, it hung onto the side of the mountain, talons dug into the stone. Joseph turned to consider his surroundings, all four of his eyes looking this way and that, and he saw that Tai Haoran was still on the stone bridge.
He hadn't pursued Joseph down. No doubt he had expected Joseph to just fall to his death. Tai Haoran's eyes were wide with shock, but already he was stanced up, ready for action. Joseph waited for him to make a move.
Tai Haoran was taking a deep breath. His eagle's sharp vision could see that.
And then the Anri user thrust a fist out. It lit pure white, and a beam erupted from his knuckles, a halo’s aura emanating from the center. Joseph's eagle dug into the stone wall, arched, strained, and leaped, its great arms slingshotting him from his position, latching onto another stretch of rock like an ape through the trees. The beam roared into the place where he had just been but a moment before, drilling through the ravine's face, melting and gouging away stone.
Tai Haoran breathed again. Joseph prepared himself.
Another pass of white light, blinding flame contorted into a pillar. Joseph dropped this time, eagle's claws cutting into the ravine's face as he went down. But Tai Haoran was evidently the experimental sort. Joseph saw him grunt, could see beads of sweat running down his forehead, as he twisted his arm downwards. The beam followed suit, following the metahuman's descent, losing its shape as Tai Haoran lost control, shifting from beam to wave. Heat crackled above Joseph's head, blistering the back of his neck. But he had felt worse.
He hit the ground rolling, sending his soul back into himself, using the momentum of its sudden return to jumpstart the circuit in his body. Joseph's body, upon his reawakening, had been reformatted. His joints had become landmarks, nodes for which his soul could rest and power up. He had become a living battery, and his soul was the electricity that powered it.
It rushed through his body now. From stomach to the base of his spine, running up his vertebrae, up and down his arms, through his ribcage, down to his legs, over and over and over again at the speed of apparent light.
But he would not realize the eagle for this shot. Would not manifest it as a bird of prey, with its scarred hide and sharp talons. No, Joseph pointed a hand, aiming at Tai Haoran.
And Tai Haoran was not alone in controlling light.
***
A bolt of lightning erupted from Zheng Jo's open palm. Tai Haoran's eyes widened at the sight of it, but he was already in stance.
He would not dodge the bolt. He would meet it head on. A tiger's roar, against the eagle's charge.
He thrust forth the Hand of Light. The pride of the White Flame sang from his fist, and beam met bolt, fire met lightning. The two intermixed in midair, exploded in a cacophony of singed plasma and electrical flame. Far below, Tai Haoran could make out Zheng Jo moving back, preparing for another bolt.
Tai Haoran breathed in and out, letting Anri suffuse his body. He prepared another Hand of Light.
Zheng Jo was faster. The lightning bolt broke from his hand, followed a moment later by a resounding boom as its wardrum broke the air. Tai Haoran returned fire.
But the bolt was not aimed at him. The Hand of Light sailed over Zheng Jo's head, immolating the ground behind him. His accursed rival had been aiming for the stone bridge. Lightning coursed through the stonework, breaking it apart beneath Tai Haoran's feet, and he suddenly found himself in open air with a freefall avalanche.
Tai Haoran began to breathe, taking in the Anri around him, strengthening his body. His legs. His arms. His core. He twisted his body, finding part of the bridge beside him, and he used it as leverage as it fell.
And, with all of the Anri coiled within him, he went off like a spring towards Zheng Jo, white flame burning from his feet as he flew at the rival Anri user. Zheng Jo grimaced, evidently not expecting this. He resummoned his eagle, which carved itself out of his chest, its arms crossed in a last-ditch effort to block Tai Haoran's strike. Fist met azure forearms as the two collided. Tai Haoran smiled within as he heard something crack within the eagle's form. Zheng Jo let out a grunt.
With a spin, Tai Haoran kicked off of the eagle. He landed by the pool's edge, facing Zheng Jo.
By now the surface of the river and pond was steaming from the sudden onset of heat. The clouds continued to curl overhead, and the thunder warned.
(Though for Joseph, they had warned too late.)
Zheng Jo's eagle was fully out, now, manifested, had moved itself so it sprouted from his back. Together with Zheng Jo's height, it was nine feet tall, its body covered in numerous scars from Zheng Jo's past battles. No doubt he relied on it extensively when he fought. The man was breathing heavily, the side of his head singed. He would need to shave off his hair, if he survived.
But Tai Haoran did not want that. A surviving Zheng Jo meant that he had fallen. And he would not let the Opal Hills be bereft of a protector. Would not let a monster such as this run amok.
This creature. It was made of electricity, yes?
That did not play well with water.
And Tai Haoran had his plan of attack.
He rushed forward towards Zheng Jo, who raised up four fists to meet him – two of flesh, two of lightning – and the two were at it. Tai Haoran spun, keeping his distance from those sweeping talons, which were Zheng Jo's first line of defense. He prodded at Zheng Jo's stance. Tested it. Kicked at talons, dodged counterstrokes. Zheng Jo's style was inherently defensive.
No...
It wasn't quite that.
Tai Haoran leaped, aiming to deliver a kick at the eagle's head.
Zheng Jo let this happen. The kick collided with the side of its beak, throwing the head askew-
And at the same moment Zheng Jo's claw tore at Tai Haoran's side. It bit deep, flinging Tai Haoran away, and were it not for his breathing techniques, ambient Anri casing his stomach like armor, it would have disemboweled him.
As it were, Tai Haoran hit the ground.
Yes, Zheng Jo's style was to take an assault. And deliver it back at the same moment tenfold.
All four of his fists were raised now, four arms of the mantis. Ready to crack at Tai Haoran at a moment's notice.
But Tai Haoran's plan was working.
Zheng Jo was inching to the water's edge. His ankle was already in the pool.
And Tai Haoran pressed his attack. He rushed at Zheng Jo, who hunkered down.
Tai Haoran went for the legs once more, dodging past the snarling claws and going for Zheng Jo's knees. The man stepped back, deeper into the pool, bringing up his claws, curling them into fists, and bringing them down upon the Anri user like hammers. They battered Tai Haoran’s back, slammed him into the muck. Tai Haoran spun, launching a kick into Zheng Jo's stomach.
It was powerful enough to send him flying back.
And-
And-
He let out a ragged gasp as the eagle hit the water’s surface. The bird of prey itself let out a wretched scream that pierced the air like glass, before it shattered to pieces and went back into Zheng Jo's body. The pool of water was shallow, only a few feet at its deepest point. Zheng Jo staggered back to his feet, clutching the side of his head.
And Tai Haoran was on him. Fists blazing. He battered Zheng Jo. A hook to the jaw. A kick to the ribs. And endless barrage of blows against his hated foe.
The man who had come here, saying he was a peaceful sort.
The man who had come here, and spoken to Zi Shi Ying.
The man who had threatened Wang Ro the Younger, his brother.
Tai Haoran found himself screaming as he beat Zheng Jo to death. His fists lost their composure, became like claws as he slashed at Zheng Jo like a frenzied tiger. The scream ran ragged.
His heart thundered, so quickly he could not feel the beat.
And then-
Stopped.
At last, Xiao Rai's cunning had claimed its prey.
***
Joseph saw stars as he fell back into the water. His entire world was pain as he clutched his head.
He should be dead. Why was he not dead?
He opened up his one good eye, the other already swollen shut, to see Tai Haoran clutching his chest. The man was letting out ragged gasps as he stumbled back. The horrifying rage that had painted his face had given way to panic. His hands, which had just a moment ago been filled with flame, were shaking.
Joseph, somehow, stood up. Powered through the pain, as he always had, and limped towards Tai Haoran.
Who fell forward.
Joseph caught him by the shoulders, the two falling to their knees into the water. Tai Haoran went limp.
Joseph turned him around, rested him on his knees, kept his head above the water.
He was not breathing. His eyes stared, sightless, towards the storming sky.
Rain began to fall now, pattered around them, created patterns of rings in the pool as a liquid chorus. The thunder, once more, rumbled overhead. It sounded mournful.
High above, Joseph saw Wang Ro the Elder moving away. No doubt to return back to the village.
Joseph was not in good condition. But he could not be found here. When Wang Ro the Elder returned to the town, he would whip up a frenzy. The townsfolk, they would come out in droves to finish him off. He was already injured enough.
With his current state, it would not be hard.
He stumbled up, let Tai Haoran's body float away from him. Trudged out of the water. His soul was out of commission, would need time to heal.
So he went on his own two feet. Away from the site of their battle.
And went to find somewhere he could shelter.