Chapter 63

“Now, second, a lesson on Dao,” the immortal replied.

Then the frozen assassin moved. He leaped, pushing himself back for a long distance before he stopped.

“Hey kid,” the immortal said to him. “Let’s trade some pointers.”

To call a fifth-rank elder kid, it would be wrong in any other mouth but it held true for an immortal.

“This one is not worthy of-”

“I won’t kill ya,” the honored master replied. “And it’s the least you can do for starting a fight on my land, no?”

The assassin frowned. He hadn’t started a fight in the desert strip and even if the bodies of the guards had been delivered there, they were almost dead and the conflict had happened outside of the area.

But he wouldn’t dare question that.

This was a challenge, not a choice, at least that was the way Tai Lui perceived it.

Cai didn’t know if Master Bill would have just let him go had he refused the fight, but it probably wouldn’t have hurt to ask.

But of course, Tai Lui would never dare to do that. To the fifth rank, the world worked one way and one way alone. The strong commanded and the weak obeyed, and now he was the weak so he obeyed.

So, with fear in his aura, the fifth rank walked up to the immortal and bowed.

********

The first attack was nothing but a moving blade. It had no soul, no technique, just strength.

Tai Lui frowned. He was afraid, but worse than that he was angry. Who was this man, this immortal to get in his way? This dying old bastard with a broken dao should stand aside and let talent like him through.

But still, he was stronger for now so he had no choice but to raise his blade.

Tai Lui swung again and cut through the air once more. The immortal countered. The cut dissipated and died.

Again, Tai Lui moved. Well, if he wouldn’t die then he’d at least test his metal. How often did one get to trade blows with an immortal anyway?

He jumped, propelling himself to the side of the immortal, and cut again. This cut was meaningful and contained almost all of Tai Lui’s power.

And yet it was beaten all the same with a wave of the hand.

“Do you remember what Dao is Chin?” The immortal asked.

“No,” The old man that Tai Lui had paid no mind to answered.

“Really? Not even a bit?” The immortal asked.

Tai swung again, coming from behind him this time, but the man's palms met the sword qi with disinterest.

“Well, I remember somethings,” the mortal replied.

Tai Lui stepped back and thought. He was of the fifth rank and though no immortal had been birthed from this region for tens of thousands of years, he had seen a few passing by. Merchants from other regions, imperial census takers, and many others have visited this region over the millennium.

And this one was the strangest immortal he had ever met.

He was strong but it was in a peculiar way. There was an absence to him, a lack of presence. The sects had only learned about him recently but their spies and the village folk claimed he had been here for hundreds of years.

And even now, in person, he seemed empty, lacking.

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Mortal.

“Well, take notes this time. It’s a lot of things but for this case, it's the binding aspect of the soul. It centers a person and aligns them with a way, a path. And that path serves as a method of perseverance.”

Tai Lui cut and cut again. Once, twice, thrice. His attacks danced and curved, aiming for the immortal's vitals with every thrust.

But the immortal moved. No, he shrugged and dodged his blade with crude movements.

Inelegant unrefined spasms of muscle somehow move the man out of the path of attack. Tai kept striking, trying to see the technique in the movement, but there was none. No pattern, no reason, no pace, just movement, concise and small.

Martial arts were somewhat useless to a cultivator but at a similar rank, they meant everything.

Martial arts were methods of movement made to be graceful and fluid, a way of fighting while conserving one’s strength. You could turn back your opponent's weapon or turn their own punch against them. It was the rope through which pure power was tamed and made stronger.

And this man had none of it.

Tai grew angry. He wasn’t stupid enough to assume the man was uneducated in the ways of martial movement, but rather that he wouldn’t do it. After all, what use was a proper punch against an ant? What use was a strong kick against beetle?

The immortal was looking down on him.

Disrespect.

“Dao leaks into everything you do Chin. It’s infectious like that. But by the same doctrine, it’s controlling as well.”

Tai’s attacks grew furious and their speed increased with every thrust. Soon the air roared as Tai Lui’s sword pushed faster than it could move and minor explosions came with every strike.

Tai didn’t believe he would strike the immortal. He only sought to make the man move in a graceful manner, to rip away this facade of vile movement, and to make the man act with grace.

He wanted the immortal to dodge properly.

“This guy for example, what do you think his dao is?” The immortal asked.

For some reason, his voice carried over their fighting. This enraged Tai.

Tai Lui’s blade roared. It was all out now. Every swing of his could trim summits and destroy villages. His strongest strikes could flatten out cities and his weakest cuts could crumble pavilions.

“FIGHT ME!” He roared. “STOP TALKING TO THAT MORTAL AND FIGHT ME!”

Insanity, he thought. That was the only reason he would have made such an outburst.

But that man, that damn lower being. How could he be an immortal? How could he have faced tribulation?

Tai Lui bent space. His blade, his cut, and the immortal’s neck coalesced in the same plot of space and-

His blade shattered.

The sword made from old dragon bones and star iron shattered.

“Well that was dumb,” the immortal spoke.

“Yes,” Tai replied. “My apologies-”

“Arrogance,” a voice spoke.

Tai Lui moved.

In an instant he was at the mortal’s side, his hand reaching for the old man’s throat. He’d had enough. This pest had stained his ear far longer than he deserved. He would squash the damn insect like the small thing it was-

A sharp pain came from his kidney and he flew to the side.

“Close,” the immortal shrugged, with his one leg slightly lifted as if he had been kicking a rock into a pond.

“It’s pride. He could have killed Cai with the first swing, but he didn’t. Instead, he beheaded his guards and let Cai flee for a bit. Even as an assassin, he couldn’t help but flare his power. And even now, all it took was some disrespect for him to lose his composure.”

Tai Lui opened his mouth and spat out blood.

“He reminds me of that annoying monk,” the immortal added.

“The one that wanted you to kill him?”

“Yeah, that guy. Actually, he reminds me of him too much,” the immortal answered.

Then he walked over to Tai Lui and pulled.

For a faint second, Tai Lui thought he saw a string, an ethereal thread floating off and into the distance. And when the immortal pulled at it, he felt the end of the string pulling on him as well. It was like something was tugging at his very existence, at his very soul.

“Oh wow, look at that. Birds of a feather I guess,” the immortal mumbled.

Tai Lui stood, propelling himself to his feet and pulling out his second blade.

“What’s with that monk anyway? You two planning something?”

Tai swung, ignoring the immortal’s comment.

This time he used the Flowering Sword Lotus Form, weaving each strand of sword qi into a binding web of interconnected strength. The FloweringSword worked by giving one attack the strength of multiple. Each sword swing weaved with the others, the sword qi piling up in the metaphysical webs.

And with each strike, the strength grew. There was no wasted qi, any sword qi that wasn’t punishing the opponent would be absorbed back into the Lotus formation. It was one of the strongest techniques of the Flowering Sword Sect and when used by an elder, it was beyond deadly.

Mountains would crumble to dust and valleys would become canyons if they were even grazed by this attack.

This was his strength, his power, and Tai Lui poured it all into the blade. He could not win. He could not even hope to wound this man, it was stupid to even dream of it. But that was not what he needed. He needed courtesy. He needed to see the man fight.

Not once had the immortal used qi. Not once had the immortal used a technique. Up till now, it had been nothing but crude movement. It wasn’t a fight, no man would call this a fight.

This had no respect, no honor, no pride.

Tai couldn’t feel the immortals’ aura but he knew what the immortal felt nonetheless.

Disdain.

He talked to the mortal like they were equals but to Tai Lui he had barely spared a word. He talked to the crippled bastard with kindness but to Tai Lui, he had no such emotions. Not even hate, just apathy.

Tai Lui refused this.

“LOOK AT ME!” The fifth rank yelled, sending all he had and all he was into his blade, fighting for his pride.