Elder Jun's voice cut through the commotion, his icy tone coating his words. "Is this the showing a Silent Moon sect's representative should be proud of?" he called out to Ping Hai, the statement seemed to pierce the air with its significance, a warning from the elder to his disciple.
Ping Hai's reaction was subtle, yet telling. A brief flicker of uncertainty crossed his otherwise stoic expression, a momentary lapse that revealed a sliver of doubt. It was fleeting, gone almost as soon as it appeared, but it was enough to remind me that beneath the imposing exterior lay a cultivator not unlike myself, susceptible to the same cautions and concerns.
However, as quickly as the moment of vulnerability appeared, it vanished, replaced by a renewed focus that was almost palpable. Ping Hai's eyes, now fixed on me with great intensity, seemed to burn with a determination that bordered on ferocity. It was clear that Elder Jun's words had served their purpose, steeling Ping Hai's resolve for the battle ahead.
With my senses heightened to their limit, I braced myself for Ping Hai's response, knowing that the brief advantage I had gained would only serve to make him more cautious, more deliberate in his approach. Yet, even with this knowledge, the sheer speed of his retaliation caught me off guard.
Ping Hai's movement was a blur, a testament to the deceptive agility hidden within his massive frame. The heavens were truly unfair, allowing a man of his stature to move like a mouse. The straight punch he delivered towards my stomach was a force of nature, swift and unyielding. Despite my heightened awareness, I could only roll off to the side, feeling a gust of wind pass by where I was a split-second ago.
The impact of Ping Hai's missed strike sent a shiver down my spine, the realization of the power behind it chilling me to the core. As I scrambled to my feet, the world around me seemed to slow, the effects of the potions allowing me to perceive each minute detail with crystal clarity. The crowd's anxious murmurs, the rustle of leaves underfoot, Ping Hai's measured breaths—all of it painted a vivid picture of the moment.
Ping Hai, unfazed by his missed attack, adjusted his stance, a subtle shift that warned me of an impending strike.
My entire body was sweating. It hadn't even been a minute yet, but the mental fatigue of knowing one wrong move could spell my doom wore away at me and frayed my nerves.
He delivered his strikes in a simple manner, but because of that, it was hard to counter. Hard to use the Bamboo Reprisal Counter.
But it was getting easier. Maybe because of the elixir, but it felt like I was adjusting to his speed. I glanced over to my right, seeing one of the leaf deposits I committed to memory earlier. If I could just-
WHOOSH
A right hook, faster than anything he'd displayed so far, brushed past my cheek, splitting my skin and drawing blood. If I hadn't turned my head in time, it would've been over. I stumbled backwards, trying to blink the stars out of my eyes and the ringing in my ears.
I'd been a fool.
He was lulling me into a false sense of security, making me adjust to a slower speed than what he was capable of until now.
Was this truly someone the same age as Li Na or Han Wei? I didn't feel this sense of suppression even when I fought against Lan Sheng or Feng Wu. I looked over to Ping Hai once again, only found a cold and determined gaze. His other fist hurtling towards me at an alarming speed. I watched as time slowed to a crawl.
I had to duck. I had to duck! If I took this hit, I'd die!
A scream tore out my throat, as every muscle in my body worked to throw myself further into the strike. Ping Hai's fist whiffed my head, and I could feel the barest touch on my hair as I stumbled forward past his guard. I tucked and rolled gracelessly across the grounds.
Before I could regain my bearings, a shadow loomed over me. Ping Hai, his massive frame silhouetted against the sky blotting out the sun, his leg raised high for an axe kick. The fourth stance of the Twelve Form Harvest Moon. I knew well enough what awaited me if I stayed here.
As Ping Hai's shadow loomed over me, his leg raised like a guillotine's blade against the backdrop of a clear sky, a cold shiver ran down my spine. Time seemed to stretch, each second a lifetime, as I lay sprawled beneath him, the hard ground pressing against my back. His towering figure, a monolith of impending doom, blocked out the sun, casting me into a chilling darkness that mirrored my growing despair.
Rooted Banyan Stance? Not in this position. All I could do in this situation was...
I raised my hands above my head in a cross and pushed myself forward before the kick could fully be unleashed. As I coalesced qi into my arms, Ping Hai seemed unperturbed, delivering the blow even faster than I anticipated. The impact was monumental, the force of his kick driving my arms down with such ferocity that I felt as if they might shatter under the pressure. It fell onto my head like the weight of a thousand stones. No matter how much I'd trained up till this point, facing the blow head-on meant there was an inevitable cost to pay.
But by paying that cost...I opened up the path for survival.
I twisted my core and angled my arms to divert the force into the ground beside me. The first principle of the Bamboo Reprisal Counter; redirecting the flow of an opponent's power, and minimizing the damage to oneself. The words came to be unbidden, cutting through the noise of battle.
Observe the lotus upon the water; it moves with the current, yet remains unblemished. So too must you flow with the force of your opponent, redirecting their energy while maintaining your core unshaken.
Ping Hai's leg came crashing down beside me, leaving a stark imprint of his power etched into the dirt. But it came at a price. every fiber of my being screamed in protest. Pain radiated from my arms, so intense it bordered on numbness. I clenched my teeth, refusing to give voice to the agony. The odds, ever daunting, now seemed insurmountable.
Yet, within me, a stubborn flame of defiance refused to be extinguished.
The crowd, a distant blur beyond the immediate reality of my duel, gasped in unison at the spectacle. Whispers and murmurs swirled like leaves caught in a tempest, their words indistinguishable but their tone laden with a mixture of awe and concern. I could hear Li Na's anxious voice behind me, but even that fell deaf to my ears.
My body felt hot. The constant pounding of my heartbeat overwhelmed everything except the man in front of me. A whisper cut through the stimulus.
The path of a leaf adrift on a stream does not resist the current, yet it finds its way.
Ping Hai, momentarily off-balance from the redirected force of his own attack, regained his composure swiftly. But deep in his eyes, I could see frustration building up. His teeth were clenched, and veins were protruding from his head. His eyes flickered off to the side, back to where the Silent Moon sect sat, distracted.
Emulate this gentleness in your technique, allowing the opponent's force to become the guide to their own defeat.
In the midst of battle, a strange peace settled over me. The noise of the fight turned into a clear rhythm, guiding my responses. Ping Hai's every move became a signal, showing me where to strike or dodge. In this focused calm, my movements were no longer just reactions; they were answers.
The battle's chaos became a dance, and in this dance, I found my moment.
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The bamboo, resilient and yielding, bending in the fiercest winds only to rise again, unbroken. And now, I could feel those words forming a bridge between my mind and body.
Your understanding of the dao has deepened.
Your Mind has reached Mortal Realm - Rank 4
I dashed forward, considering the nearby surroundings without losing focus on Ping Hai's frame. I watched his weight shift and the slightest tensing of his muscles. I needed to think faster. FASTER!
Only after this point, this moment of clarity, did I realize that Ping Hai truly wasn't as monstrous as I made him out to be. He may have been incredibly strong, and deceptively agile, but he wasn't as fast or dexterous as Li Na or Feng Wu. And they were people who I sparred with daily. My fear had been clouding my judgment and my reaction, all this time.
But now, I could fight back.
A strike at the body, followed by a kick to the head.
I parried his punch, committing fully to the redirection of its power. It was the only way to defend. My forearms were creaking under the immense weight, but I shifted my body to avoid the incoming kick. Ping Hai stopped his move and readjusted, only taking a second to do so. But that was enough for me.
Seizing the opportunity, I feigned a lunge, drawing Ping Hai's attention—and his guard—to his left. As he adjusted his stance to counter, I pivoted, channeling my qi to my right leg, and unleashed a sweeping kick aimed not at Ping Hai but at the cluster of leaves just between us.
The kick sent a flurry of leaves into the air, further compounding the visual chaos of battle. Ping Hai, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected maneuver, faltered in his response, his eyes darting between the airborne leaves in a futile attempt to discern my true location. Now was my chance!
But before I could launch another attack, I saw his hands pierce through the leafy veil, coming together and unleashing a gust of wind that blew away my cover.
"Heeup!"
The gust of wind Ping Hai generated cleared the air, leaving me exposed and momentarily disoriented by the thunderous clap.
As he blew away the leaves in a whirlwind of force and charged forward, unwilling to give me a chance to recover, his forward momentum betrayed him. The ground beneath him, seemingly solid, concealed my last-ditch effort—a small hole hidden beneath the cluster of leaves I had kicked upward in a feint of desperation. The trap I had placed last night. Placed strategically and subtly in areas throughout the training grounds, this wasn't a matter of luck; this opportunity was solely due to preparation.
Ping Hai's foot found the void unexpectedly, his massive frame lurching forward with a suddenness that defied his earlier poise. The surprise in his eyes was a mirror to my own; his for the unforeseen falter, mine for the sliver of opportunity it presented.
Seizing the moment, I surged forward, my body coiled like a spring, my fist aimed upwards in an uppercut meant to capitalize on the third-class disciple's compromised stance. The move, fueled by a mix of adrenaline and the last vestiges of hope, was a gamble against the odds.
But Ping Hai, even in his moment of imbalance, was a force to be reckoned with. His hand, large enough to encase my fist entirely, snapped out with the speed of a striking viper, catching my uppercut in a vice-like grip that halted my momentum cold. The sheer strength in his grasp was a stark reminder of what he did in the alchemy bout, a power that now threatened to snuff out the advantage I had.
"Grrgh!"
The high of my epiphany that I had been riding on for the longest time was broken by the pain in my hand.
"This farce is over," Ping Hai growled, his voice a rumble that seemed to resonate with the very earth beneath us. His other hand reared back, poised to deliver a finishing blow that I knew I could not hope to withstand with the principles of the Bamboo Reprisal Counter alone.
In that moment, suspended between defiance and defeat, the training grounds around us faded into a blur. The cheers and gasps of the spectators and the gentle rustle of the remaining leaves in the breeze—all of it receded into the background, leaving only the impending certainty of Ping Hai's strike.
Yet, even as despair threatened to take hold, a flicker of resolve ignited within me. The countless hours of training, the lessons learned, the challenges faced—all of it culminated in this singular moment of truth.
I shifted my stance at the last possible instant, dropping my center of gravity and anchoring myself into the earth with the Rooted Banyan Stance. My body, a conduit for the pure, swirling qi, became as steadfast as the ancient trees that inspired the technique, ready to withstand the blow.
Ping Hai's approaching fist met not the expected compliance of a defeated foe but the unyielding force of my prepared stance. The collision sent a shockwave through my body and into the ground, a testament to the might behind the blow. Because of my fist stuck in Ping Hai's grip, I couldn't fully complete the technique, weakening the defense and letting a partial amount of damage permeate throughout my chest. I coughed out blood, feeling the sheer solidity of his strike.
But I was still standing.
The bewildered look that flashed across Ping Hai's face was as satisfying as it was fleeting.
I relinquished my stance, transforming rigidity into fluid motion. Seizing Ping Hai's outstretched arm—the very instrument of his intended victory—I leaned back, my body bending like the bamboo that bends but does not break, guided by Instructor Xia Ji's teachings of the Bamboo Reprisal Counter.
The second principle of the Bamboo Reprisal Counter. To redirect the force of an opponent's blow, and to use that diverted power back to the opponent.
With a burst of qi channeled through my core and into my legs, I unleashed a counterstrike, a front kick aimed at Ping Hai's chin. The force of my kick, amplified by the momentum of my fall and the power of my qi, was my final gamble.
In that split-second before the collision, I saw it. Ping Hai's attempt to retreat.
It was thwarted by the very trap he had stumbled into moments before. His foot, ensnared in the divot concealed by the leaves, became his undoing.
My front kick connected, the impact reverberating through the air, a testament to the culmination of my journey, the synthesis of countless lessons learned under the tutelage of my mentors and the hardships I had endured.
You can now utilize the skill, Bamboo Reprisal Counter.
And I let go of his arm and fell to the floor.
I could hear the crowd gasping all around me. All I could focus on was the third-class disciple I had put my life on the line to win against. His neck was craned upwards, and I could see how stiff his body had gone. For a moment, I thought I knocked him out.
His posture staggered, and for a second it looked like he was about to fall onto one knee.
The silence that followed was deafening, a stark contrast to the cacophony of the duel's crescendo.
But his towering form stayed strong, and he brought his head back down as if the strike hadn't even fazed him. In his eyes were a clear sense of shock, fear and disarray. But he wasn't looking at me, he was looking at someone far into the crowd. I trailed his gaze and saw the frigid expression on Elder Jun, and the stupefied expression of Xu Ziqing beside him.
I heard Elder Zhu's voice as my back lay flat on the ground, carrying with it a tinge of disbelief and amazement.
"The bout is decided," Elder Zhu declared, his voice carrying the weight of finality. "Kai Liu is the victor."
Quest: Eclipse the Silent Moon has been completed.
Due to your status as Interface Manipulator, your rewards will be adjusted accordingly.
A cheer erupted from the ranks of the Verdant Lotus Sect, a tidal wave of relief and jubilation that swept through the crowd. My friends—Li Na, Han Wei, Lan Sheng, and Feng Wu—were the first to reach me, their faces alight with pride and excitement.
"You did it, Kai!" Li Na exclaimed, her voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and exhilaration, as she knelt beside me, her hands hovering over me, as though she were unsure of where to touch.
Lan Sheng's laughter rang out, infectious and carefree. "What did I tell you? Size isn't everything!"
Feng Wu, his usual calm demeanor replaced with a rare smile of genuine pride, offered his hand, helping me to my feet. "Well done, Kai. Your resolve and ingenuity have truly shone through today."
As I leaned on my friends for support, my body aching in places I didn't even know could hurt, I couldn't help but let out a pained chuckle. "Victor, huh? Feels more like I've been trampled by a herd of oxen."
Their concern was palpable, their eyes scanning my injuries, but the elation of the moment seemed to overshadow the pain. "You need to get looked at by the healers," Li Na insisted, her brows furrowed in worry.
As we made our way slowly towards the sect's infirmary, the crowd parted for us, their whispers and cheers a swirling mix that filled the air.
"He actually did it..."
"Kai beat a disciple of the Silent Moon sect..."
"Is that guy really a third-class disciple?"
Amidst the physical pain, my mind was awash with a cascade of reflections. Despite my victory, it rung hollow.
It all seemed like a perfect storm, a confluence of factors that led to an outcome I could hardly believe myself. The moment of clarity that enveloped me during the duel, cutting through the fog of fear and doubt, felt almost otherworldly. It was as if I had transcended my limitations, tapping into a well of focus I didn't know I possessed. It was just like the moment I reached enlightenment with the Rooted Banyan Stance, or the Crimson Lotus Purification technique.
Their underestimation of me, due to my status as a herbalist, played to my advantage. It allowed me to leverage the element of surprise, to catch them off-guard with tactics they hadn't anticipated from someone of my supposed standing, as well as the potency of my concoctions.
The hole I had dug the night prior, a precaution born out of a strategic consideration for the terrain, turned out to be instrumental. It was a physical manifestation of my foresight, a trap that Ping Hai, in all his might, couldn't have predicted.
The synergy between the Rooted Banyan Stance and the Bamboo Reprisal Counter, two techniques I had honed over countless hours of practice, was pivotal. The principles of hard and soft defense, put together into devastating effect. Their combination allowed me to absorb and redirect the force of his attack, culminating in a counterstrike that was as precise as it was desperate.
And yet, the kick that I had delivered with every ounce of strength and qi I could muster barely seemed to stun Ping Hai. Maybe it wasn't his strength I should admire, but rather the endurance such a body gave him.
As I watched the third-class disciple in question, his attention wholly consumed by Elder Jun, kowtowing in a display of utter subjugation, a pang of empathy coursed through me. He was not focused on me, the victor of our duel, but rather on the weight of his perceived failure in the eyes of his mentor and sect.
Hadn't I seen a glimpse of their culture with the slightest of interactions? I saw not just a formidable opponent, but a fellow cultivator caught in the relentless pursuit of strength and approval within the rigid hierarchy of the Silent Moon sect. He would likely be facing repercussions for this defeat.
"Guys, could you help me walk over to him?"
Lan Sheng looked at me, surprised. "You truly want to kick him while he's down, eh? Don't worry Kai, since this is outside of the match, I can interfere if he tries to-"
Feng Wu drove his elbow into Lan Sheng. The second-class disciple let out a strained noise of pain and immediately went quiet.
"Of course, Kai. Just be mindful, it is best not to provoke them further."
"...Brother Feng Wu, that really hurt, you know."
Lan Sheng's words fell on deaf ears. As I limped closer to Ping Hai, he caught my gaze and turned to face me. Behind him were several other Silent Moon sect disciples. They all looked at me with a myriad of expressions; disdain, anger, and suspicion. But there was a different look in their eye than before. Was it...caution?
Nevertheless, I took my arms away from Li Na and Han Wei's supporting shoulders and walked closer.
From here, Ping Hai didn't seem so large. I clasped my hands together into a shallow bow.
"Thank you for the spar, this junior has learned well."
Ping Hai seemed to hesitate, before clasping his hands together and dipping his head. "...I have learned well."
A formality. One I learned to occur between official matches between cultivators.
This duel was my declaration to the world of cultivators—my arrival on a stage I had only dared to dream of.