"Yellow sands, proceed with care - but if sands are white, then beware," Chief Batu declares quietly, gazing out at the desert in front of them. The soft mustard yellows gave way to pure, snow white that almost made Zhou Cheng think it was winter were it not for the harsh sun beating down on them.
The white sands seemed… smooth and even. No rolling hills and dunes. Just calm sand as far as the eye could see. The wind here felt almost preternaturally gentle as well, with nary a breeze to do anything.
"... What are we 'bewaring'?" he asks, squinting a little at the sands to see if there was some danger he was missing. As far as he can tell, it is just sand. Not even particularly variable sand - the other Deserts had at least streaks of other colours at times, but this one seems almost unnaturally pure. Or... perhaps it is the rest of the Desert that is unnatural?
The Chief glances over to him before turning a serious look forward. They'd proceeded over the Yellow Desert at a slow careful pace, and aside from some close calls, they'd managed it safely enough. It had taken longer than Zhou Cheng would've liked, but he could understand their need for caution there.
He wasn't happy at the idea that they would have to proceed slowly here as well though.
"White sands are the home of Sand Devils - they are most prevalent here."
"... And we're just going to cut straight across?" Did he hear him right? Surely not. They'd already explained why Sand Devils were so dangerous and terrible! And now they were going to go through their territory?
Chief Batu does not deny it though - instead, he nods gravely. "We have no other choice. The alternative is going around the desert entirely - a detour which will take weeks, and one we are ill equipped for."
Okay, so he didn't hear him wrong. This does not mean Zhou Cheng understands what is happening, but Chief Batu is the expert here, so he will wait for him to finish explaining his reasoning.
"This is the safest period to cross through the Bone Sands - Sand Devils congregate in the center of the Deserts to mate and breed. Thus, their numbers here are greatly depleted."
'Greatly depleted' does not mean it is empty of them. He understands the difference clearly enough to frown. "And what are the odds we still encounter one?"
There was no response from the Chief at first. "... Greater than I would like," he admits after a long moment, "but such is true of all times. There is always a risk. Sand Devils do not dwell solely within any one Desert - they are simply known to prefer the Bone Sands. If we are to be attacked by one, it is likely one young and immature. Too young to migrate for the mating season."
He cannot say if that is reassuring or not. Chief Batu certainly isn't giving off the air that a young, immature Sand Devil will be no trouble, but it is the best he will be receiving. He sees that.
None of the Nomads are Cultivators. Their greatest warriors are unlikely to be of any use if a Sand Devil does attack - in combat, at least. "Are there any warning signs to look out for?"
"At times, perhaps. You would have to keep an eye on the sands - the faintest change could signal an attack."
Well. If anyone is suited to monitor a large area of a desert, Zhou Cheng is - he may not cultivate a method closely related to the earth or sands, but the Breath of Heaven gives him incredible sensitivity to the air, in all the ways that matter. The feel of it, the scent of it, the sound of it. A true master of Breath of Heaven is one with the wind and sky.
Zhou Cheng is far from that lofty height, but he is undeniably attuned to it. If a Sand Devil attacks, he is confident he will know first.
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The good news is that he was right to be confident - he senses the Sand Devil before anyone else. It comes with the scent of salt and something pungent, that reminds him almost of… roasted garlic.
The bad news is that he barely has time to shout out a warning, carrying on a current of Qi, before it is already upon them.
A tentacle surges out of the sands, practically dripping with mucous - it wraps around an unfortunate camel and its rider but Tian Mingfei is quick to act, already moving with a furious, animalistic howl. Her claws, enhanced and sharpened with Metal Qi, shred through the tentacle's flesh - but not so strongly that the tendril is severed, only enough to force it to release its prey
Around them, more appendages burst through in showers of grit and slime - and Zhou Cheng doesn't need to look to confirm the amount. Ten of them in total. Ten is not an insurmountable number, but it is a worrying one. Between the three of them, that means that they will have at least three each to deal with if they want to fight them all off at once without allowing any of the caravan to be taken.
He is not confident that this is a winning proposition, but he isn't comfortable with the ruthlessly pragmatic choice that is concentrating their efforts on a tentacle at a time, and allowing what happens to happen to everyone else. The latter may be their best chance at survival.
But Zhou Cheng is a Cultivator. He seeks to defy the Heavens.
If something is impossible, then he will do it anyway. And if the odds are impossible, then he has a secret weapon.
I haven't practiced enough runs through his mind even as his body goes through the motions. This could kill me if I do it wrong. If I die, who will save Hei Lian?
It is a sobering thought. But it isn't enough to stop him.
If I don't try to save them, how can I show my face to anyone?
Zhou Cheng is Righteous. He is Honourable and Just. These are the ideals he cleaves to, the ideals he holds in his heart. He has the arrogance and naivete of youth on his side, and where more experienced - more jaded - Cultivators might dismiss trying to do the right thing as something foolish - where the Elders had - he refuses to be like them.
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The Trigram of the Wind forms the Hexagram of Gentleness, ceaseless winds that never end. Invert the Trigram and shake the clouds to create Thunder. Wind and Thunder creates the Increase, the surge. Thunder and Wind creates the Endurance, the lasting stubbornness. From the Thunder alone, create the Shock, and become aware of all things.
He inhales deeper than he ever has before, and holds the breath as he always does - but where he would manipulate the wind with his exhalation, he pushes down on it, infusing himself with the energy. With every breath, he charges it with Qi as he inhales, and draws it into his lungs and feels it rush through his veins and meridians in turn.
And he feels the world sharpen. The pure white sands seem to shimmer with colour where before they seemed plain and unassuming - the grains grind against each other in his ears - the stench of the Sand Devil, the camels, Tian Mingfei's metallic tang of iron, Kong Meiling's floral snowbells mixed with her own perfume - the wind, so gentle, so faint, dancing on his skin as it sends grains of sand gently skittering.
Breath of Heaven Secret Technique: Thunderous Breath!
This is the Heavens-Defying Technique that will allow him to defeat Lei Ming, no matter how much stronger he becomes. Just standing there, he feels like a God.
Unfortunately, the rush of power isn't the only thing he feels. He feels like he's going to explode if he's not careful as well. He has only ever been in this state for a few seconds at a time before, trying to grow accustomed to the power to avoid killing himself in a rather spectacular fashion when the time came to face Lei Ming.
A minute. He gives himself a minute before he has to let it go or be ripped apart in an explosion of Qi, and then to be safe, he cuts it down by maybe ten seconds and stops thinking about how utterly stupid this choice is in favour of acting before wastes any more of his already limited time worrying about the consequences.
Wind sheathes his hand, spiraling around it in a localized twister. The Hexagram Gentleness is the 'Gentle penetration' - it is the wind that bends the reeds, and sways the branches. There is nothing gentle about what he does to the tentacle with this hand, but if there is a Hexagram that represents complete destruction, he cannot think of it right now.
The tentacle falls, and before it has even struck the sand, he is already moving to the next, blasting it apart with the concentrated power of the wind. Two becomes three becomes four. Tian Mingfei shouts something at him that he cannot parse, the sounds lost in the cacophony of his blood and power. She will just have to repeat it to him afterwards.
Five. The sixth tentacle tries to strike him, whipping towards him in a way that just makes it even easier for him to blow apart, sending foul mustard blood everywhere as he rushes through the rubbery flesh.
Kong Meiling regards him with a mixture of awe and terror, and for a brief moment, he considers snuffing her out - it would be so perfectly easy, and so satisfying to demonstrate what she turned her back on, but that is not the person Zhou Cheng wishes to be.
That, and the sands are shifting in a way that makes it obvious the Sand Devil is attacking properly now. The desert swells obscenely, like a bubble about to burst, and as the sands drop away, the Sand Devil in all its terrible glory is revealed. A heavy, rust red shell splits open to allow eye stalks to emerge as the giant clam seems to regard them, the ruined and remaining tendrils alike slipping back into its shell.
To describe it as 'large' would do it a disservice - it would've towered over buildings had any been present, and Zhou Cheng is now just beginning to realise why Chief Batu's people were nomads who didn't put down roots in the Desert. A single one of these could easily wipe out a town, let alone a village.
He was, however, beginning to question why they bothered to wander the desert at all when something like this might show up one day and eat them all.
He has no more time to ponder these things however, and so he roars out to the others. "WITH ME!"
He hears them call back, although he cannot make out their words - he will have to trust they are with him as he rushes forward and delivers an earth-shattering blow to the beast's shell. It feels like striking steel - or well, striking steel if he were using normal, mortal fists and not his Qi-enhanced blows.
The Sand Devil responds by poking what looks like some kind of tube or siphon at him - and then blasting him with sand.
The initial blast scrapes at his skin with such force that he can almost feel himself being ground away - by the time he has his hands forced in front of him to repel the blast, he can feel patches of his skin screaming at him, left glistening raw by the abrasion.
Tian Mingfei howls, and even past the thunder of his blood and the power in his veins, he hears the words singing with the world.
"Beast Dance: Black Emperor's Raging River!"
Water surges from the dry desert, squeezed out by the force of Tian Mingfei's technique, rushing against the Sand Devil. To create a torrent in the desert is no small thing, and in the short time he has to admire the power of it, Zhou Cheng can only feel awe and pride in his Sworn Sister's accomplishment.
"World of Ice and Snow."
The words of Kong Meiling are buoyed by her freezing Qi, and despite being in what is arguably the worst kind of environment for her - save perhaps an active volcano - it is thanks to Tian Mingfei's support that her technique doesn't falter immediately. With so much water present, her technique can focus purely on freezing it all.
The raging pillar of water is now a furious pillar of ice, trapping the Sand Devil in place. It is not large or great enough to encompass the entire creature, although most of is engulfed, but even with the majority of it encased in Kong Meiling's ice, the creature fights back. The same spout emerges once again, blasting a concentrated stream of sand and air directly at Kong Meiling.
She's too slow - she won't dodge in time.
Zhou Cheng moves without thinking, enhanced strength brought to bear as he shoves her out of the way, wrapping himself in his wind as the stream connects. He's too slow to withdraw, and even with his armour of wind and air, it's not enough.
The stream punches through his side. Pain shoots through his entire being, but he forces it away to focus. Even through the agony, his mind can feel an idea crystallising, inspired by the very attack he has been struck by.
Pressurize the wind. Condense it down. Concentrate it. All of its power into less area! Hone it to a spear!
Breathing in hurts, but his lungs are undamaged. Exposed, perhaps, but undamaged. He draws all of the air he can, draws it from his body - all the energy and power he had poured into himself for the Thunderous Breath, he now pours into this.
Thunder heralds the Lightning - this will be my bolt from the clouds!
He purses his lips tightly, squeezing them tight and exhales.
Feng Bo's Horn!
There is a thunderous boom, an impact he feels rippling through the air as it shatters the shell of the Sand Devil on impact - and then on exit, out the other side.
He feels it shriek, a subsonic vibration that carries on the air, tendrils - severed and whole alike - waving and flailing as viscous blood gushes out from the hole left in its shell. Although the blow is minor in size, especially compared to the Sand Devil's sheer gigantism, Zhou Cheng must truly be blessed by Heaven because with one last dying gasp, it goes limp and still.
I must've struck it in a vital organ he muses quietly, as all of his power dissipates from him, taking his strength with it. He has a moment to try and appear regal and confident despite the fact that he has a large, gaping hole in his side just below his ribs.
Then he cannot hold the inevitable off any longer, and he pitches forward.
His last thoughts before his vision goes dark is how nostalgic this feels.
Ah, Hei Lian… will you scold me again for this? The reason is much better this time…