“ARE YOU READY, RAMOR-TAI!?”

The Planeswalker was doing his best, but the atmosphere in the colosseum was decidedly less electric than XJ-V remembered. It had only been a few hours since his last fight, and it seemed the exploits of the last few duels had not impressed the Disciples and their Cianjie compatriots.

XJ-V found Feng-Lung among the crowds on the West rafters of the colosseum ring, after making his way through a chorus of affirmations from his Brothers who had watched him with awe.

“The machine-monster of Mt Tai has returned!”

“The Dao blesses us!”

“Someone get that man some oil!”

If the Cog was being honest, such greetings did nothing but irritate him, something young Feng noticed as he took a seat beside him and whispered to Arha that her metal man had come.

“XJ-V,” Arha said. “Arha regrets to inform you that you have not missed much at all. The next duel has not even begun, and from the talks of the old farts behind us, it will be nothing to write home about.”

The fox seemed bored to tears, and Feng-Lung merely shrugged in the face of her doubt, bidding greetings to Fai-Deng who had joined on the tail of XJ-V.

“I see you have brought your slain foe with you,” Feng jibed. “A shame I won’t be able to go toe-to-toe with you myself. I owe you a rematch, after all.”

“You honor me, Brother Feng,” Fai answered as he took his seat. “That fight shall come, and it will pass into the realm of legend. But not before you face our own metal Brother.”

Feng and XJ-V shared a knowing glance at one another, their smiles momentarily dropping from their faces.

“I hope our Cog Brother leaves some of you for the rest of us,” Fai continued with a dark smirk. “You know that the Mandate of Aun’El accepts only one winner in any tournament.”

“I’ll just have to put my Brother here through his paces, then,” Feng replied with feigned indifference. “If XJ-V cannot best me, then the Wasteland will surely chew him to pieces.”

“You do yourself a disservice, Feng,” XJ-V replied, but his assurance was moot. He could see that Feng-Lung already did not believe he would prevail. He believed this, and yet did not have the same steely determination of Fai-Deng – of wanting to prove something through this tourney. More than anyone, XJ-V knew that Feng shared his desire to leave the monastery behind - to become an active part of the world everyone else seemed to have left to die.

Only one winner…the Cog thought as he spared a look down at his shining core. Still…I wonder if a God’s dying breaths could change things…

“Regardless,” he said aloud. “Let us put our concerns aside for now, Brothers, and focus on the next match. Who is due to duke it out this time?”

“NO ONE INTERESTING!” A voice growled before Feng-Lung could answer, provoking the fiery ire of Fai to rise until he saw that it was a Cianjie who had just interrupted them. A rather bloated, sweaty looking Cianjie, at that.

“THIS TOURNAMENT IS A JOKE!” He shouted in his ethereal drawl, his third eye bulging with fury as the Disciples seated around him chuckled in the face of his outburst. “The only worthwhile contestant sits right here under me!” (Here the spirit sent a kick flying through the back of XJ-V’s head that sent his sensors spinning out of control – interacting strangely with the concentrated Qi energy that gave the spirit its form). “The rest of your boys don’t fight like you mean it! You don’t fight like you want this! You don’t even fight like real Cultivat-“

“AH, SHUT YOUR FLAPPER, OLD MAN!”

The crowd turned to see a very different spirit slamming her spectral toosh down beside the screaming Cianjie – one that XJ-V and a myriad of the more studious Disciples around him recognized almost instantly by the tone of her voice alone.

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“Gira?” the Cog said.

While the Cianjie smarted and grumbled, complaining about being told off by a woman (even if she is a spirit, this is ridiculous!), the old, pale-faced caretaker of the library flashed a smile down at her star pupil.

“XJ-V,” she said. “Congrats on your excellent performance, boy. No doubt your Tiger Brother learned a thing or two in the process of his butt-whooping.”

Fai nodded reticently as XJ-V replied. “And taught a few good lessons himself.”

“No doubt,” Gira said with an approving huff. “No doubt he did. Arha, I can see you’ve been teaching these young mortals some manners, thank the Dao.”

The Huli’s fluffy chest brightened. “Arha has been doing a real Lady’s job!”

“HAH!” Gira squeaked in pleasure. “If only we could whip dead men into shape the way we do mortals, my dear. It is true what those of the West say of us: a woman’s work is truly never done!”

“N-now!” The Cianjie spirit bristled, puffing out his flabby chest like a deer about to ram its opponent. “That – that’s quite enough out of you, Guipo! Another word and I’ll show yo-“

“Show me what, cretin? The fourth eye hidden in your buttocks? Pipe down and let the living have their fun. Count yourself lucky you haven’t been exorcised from these ancient grounds yet. And believe me, Cianjie, I could provide the books that would send you back into the mountain in a heartbeat.”

Amidst the laughter of the Disciples all around him, the Cianjie was stunned into a flabbergasted silence. He slumped back, muttered a few choice words under his breath, and sank into his sweaty fat-folds.

“Now,” Gira said. “Someone answer the Cog’s question – who’s up next?”

The ghostly woman’s answer came in the form of Planeswalker Ori’un’s next announcement – his bombastic voice thundering through the clouded skies high above the open arena roof. In the arena pit itself, the blasted sand surfaced morphed and changed, and the temperature of the entire colosseum began to drop faster than any natural weather phenomena. Indeed, Feng-Lung quietly pointed out the Core Regulators lining the top of the arena circumference – each one weaving Realm-Level techniques that were slowly altering the properties of the arena landscape before the baying crowd.

“GENTLEFOLK, GENTLESPIRITS, AND ALL CREATURES IN-BETWEEN, WE GIVE YOU THE FINAL FIGHT OF THE DAY!” The Planeswalker bellowed – his voice sweeping in an arc of fiery lightning that short forth from the clouds above and traveled around the arena rafters. “ANOTHER JAW-DROPPING DEMONSTRATION OF DEFT SKILL, TIGHT CONTROL, AND GRIM RIVALRY! TIGER VS DRAGON, JOVIAL JOKER VS THE ALL SMILING PRODIGY, PUT YOUR HANDS TOGETHER FOR BROTHER KAI-THAI OF THE WAITING TIGER SECT AND BROTHER MAH-JUNG OF THE ETERNAL DRAGON!”

XJ-V’S eyes blazed at the announcement, and yet looking at his Brothers, he saw no similar surprise there.

“So, it comes down to this,” Feng-Lung said. “That’s why our good Brothers didn’t deign to join us today. I have to admit I was wondering where your best friend was, Fai.”

The Tiger Brother sniffled in the face of the cold creeping up his bones. “It appears even jokers know when it’s time to get serious.”

Fai couldn’t have been more right. As the new arena materialized before the crowd of spectators, the two opposing gates on either side of the pit were drawn with a clang and out walked the Brothers XJ-V had known since first he was accepted into Ramor-Tai: Kai-Thai, resplendent in his yellow Tiger Sect tunic, and Mah-Jung, sporting the long-sleeved robe of the Level 9 Corporeal Temperer. Both of them faced down the other with laser focus as they stepped steadily into the snowy tundra that was to be their battleground. They couldn’t have looked more primed for a duel to the death.

“Fai,” XJ-V asked. “What rank does Kai-Thai belong to?”

“Sixth level,” the Tiger replied drily.

“But…then…does he have a chance? Against the highest ranked Temperer?”

Fai glanced thinly at the whispering Cog. “Do you?”

“Mah-Jung is the best of us, that’s for sure,” Feng-Lung noted, his shoulders slumping forward with sudden, renewed interest. “And he’s been…unusually quiet, recently.”

“One can usually find him helping himself to the Mantou of others at dinner,” XJ-V agreed. “But you’re right – I haven’t seen him these past few weeks at all. Except for…”

He trailed off as he remembered the Disciple’s visit to him as he was recovering from his duel with Sheloth. He recalled keenly how he had maintained the same expression upon his face then as he did now as he warned XJ-V of the dangers of the Dao…

Could it be that he was speaking from experience? Or was there something else at work, here?

Such concerns were swept aside as both Cultivators finally took a bow and readied their battle stances - Kai-Thai adopting his signature ‘Drunken-Master’ style which, paired with his serious expression, added some unintentional comedy to the otherwise tense atmosphere in the arena.

“A fine day for building forts in the snow, wouldn’t you say, Brother Jung?”

Mah-Jung breathed deeply in response, gathering his Qi in preparation for his first strike. There was no smile on his face as he replied.

“Making,” he said. “And breaking, Brother Thai.”

“Now, this,” the fat Cianjie suddenly croaked from behind. “This looks like a fight worth watching…”

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