“As you wish, Brother,” Mah-Jung told the goading Feng-Lung.
The tension in the arena was palpable as the two Dragon Sect Disciples faced off once more. Feng-Lung’s confident smirk mirrored the determination in Mah-Jung’s eyes. The ethereal winds continued to howl through the arena, setting the stage for a battle that would be remembered for generations.
Mah-Jung's aura flared, his Qi radiating a fierce intensity that caused the very ground to tremble. He spread his arms wide, and from his palms emerged twin spirals of fire, writhing like serpents. The crowd gasped in awe as Mah-Jung manipulated the fiery tendrils with precision, weaving a deadly dance of flames.
Feng-Lung responded by summoning his inner strength, channeling his own Qi to form the radiant red shield of an Infernal Pillar around him. He planted his feet firmly on the ground, eyes locked onto Mah-Jung, his focus unyielding.
And XJ-V could see the disparity of Qi energy between the two men was getting closer and closer. Mah-Jung’s relentless assault was seizing crowd, summoning shouts of excitement and anxiety from them in equal measure.
“Come on Feng!” XJ-V called, much to the surprise of the Tiger Brothers beside him.
To be sitting here, unable to do anything but watch…XJ-V thought. It reminded him too much of the mistakes he’d made in his own past…
With a swift motion, Mah-Jung sent his fiery serpents hurtling toward Feng-Lung. The tendrils twisted and turned in mid-air, aiming for vital points. Feng-Lung’s response was immediate and fluid; he sidestepped and countered with a Dragon Tooth strike, his fingers glowing with a piercing, brilliant light. The clash of their powers sent shockwaves through the arena, the force of their collision igniting sparks that danced around them.
Mah-Jung pressed his attack, his movements a blur as he unleashed a series of rapid Flame Lashes. Each strike was precise, aimed to break through Feng-Lung’s defenses. But Feng-Lung was ready. He parried the attacks with a combination of Dragon Wing blocks and rapid footwork, his agility allowing him to deflect the fiery assaults with grace.
As the gust of wind tore through the arena once more, Feng-Lung seized the moment. He launched himself into the air, his body spinning gracefully as he executed yet another Flaming Dervish maneuver. His foot connected with Mah-Jung’s chest in a powerful kick, sending his opponent skidding backward. The crowd erupted in cheers, witnessing the display of Feng-Lung’s mastery.
But Mah-Jung was not so easily defeated. With a roar, he channeled his Qi into a concentrated burst of energy. Flames erupted around him, forming a blazing vortex that surged toward Feng-Lung. The sheer heat of the attack was overwhelming, scorching the ground and causing the air to shimmer.
Feng-Lung reacted instinctively, forming an Infernal Pillar around himself and bracing for the impact.
“Aun’el’s Rebuke…” Kai-Thai murmured behind XJ-V. The memory of the burning, searing pain of the highest-grade Temperer strike was clearly playing through the mind of the normally cheerful Tiger.
“Yes…” Fai-Deng murmured. “It seems the time as come. Mah-Jung is channeling his Qi reserves into a final strike. If it connects…”
The crowd held their breath as Mah-Jung’s vortex slammed into Feng’s shield, causing it to crack and waver under the intense pressure. Sweat beaded on Feng-Lung’s forehead as he struggled to maintain his defense.
“Feng-Lung!” Arha called out. “You…you will win this one, boy! Or else this Lady will never stop nipping at your ankles!”
XJ-V saw the resilience in his friend, then. With a final push, he redirected the energy, sending the flames spiraling harmlessly into the sky.
The crowd’s applause was deafening, but Feng-Lung knew the battle was far from over. Mah-Jung’s eyes burned with a fierce determination, and he took advantage of Feng-Lung’s momentary distraction. In a flash, he closed the distance between them, his fists igniting with blazing fire.
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Feng-Lung barely had time to react as Mah-Jung’s fists connected with his chest in a flurry of strikes. The force of the blows sent shockwaves through his body, each impact threatening to break his focus. Desperation fueled Feng-Lung’s movements as he countered with a Dragon’s Tail sweep, his leg arcing through the air in a powerful strike.
“This…this is a true duel here, Disciples of Ramor-Tai!” Ori’un shouted over the din of the melee. “These are two relentless dragons that will not give a single inch!”
XJ-V had to admit that the sight of the melee was more astounding than even he’d anticipated. Beneath the feet of both men the ground began to melt away, the very ground itself blistering and dying as their flames reached levels the Cog had never before seen.
And then, almost like awakening from a dream, the warriors parted again.
Their breaths were short and staggered. Their hands blackened by the intensity of the others’ flame.
“Well,” Mah-Jung announced. “I must admit, you are a Temperer above the rest, Feng-Lung.”
Feng smiled back through his soot-covered face. “But you still won’t yield, will you, Brother Jung?”
The master Temperer of Ramor-Tai snarled back: “Never.”
Their arms came up again as another razor wind racked the blistered land around them. The final curtain of this battle was about to come.
“XJ-V,” Arha said. “Look.”
He followed the Huli’s pointing nose, watching the waves of Qi radiating from Mah-Jung.
“So small,” the Huli murmured. “Which means Feng-Lung has a chance, now!”
“Your turn, Feng!” Mah-Jung shouted across the wind-wracked arena. “Show me what the friend of a Cog can do!”
Murmurings tore through the crowd at the mention of XJ-V, and Feng’s smiled wavered only for an instant.
Come on, Feng, XJ-V urged his friend, trying to access his thoughts within the still-tumultuous Dao. Don’t let yourself get baited into making a mistake. Every achievement you have won has been of your own making, not mine. No matter what others may think.
As though he heard the pleas of his friend, Feng-Lung chuckled right back at the waiting warrior.
“So serious, Mah-Jung! Don’t you know that all this stress isn’t good for you?”
In response, the facade of Mah-Jung’s face flickered for a moment. Yet again, however, XJ-V saw it – the residual traces of something buried there beneath his calm exterior.
And he opened his mouth as he realized what it was. He’d seen it only for the tiniest of moments. But he’d seen it. No matter how much effort Mah-Jung must have been putting in to keep it hidden.
“Feng -!”
No luck. Just as XJ-V tried to shout a warning to his friend, young Feng has already started his final charge towards Mah-Jung, speeding along the circumference of the arena pit and then leveling a Flaming Dervish that could have ended the fight were it not for a single trick Mah-Jung still had up his sleeve.
“FENG!”
Mah-Jung’s eyes shone with white-hot light as his Qi aura exploded into a wave of energy that ripped through the skies. Then, two palms up, he let another Aun’El’s Rebuke loose just as Feng’s foot made impact with his hands.
The explosion that ripped through the arena when both men’s strikes connected sent everyone flying back in their seats, pieces of burned trees and upturned grasses flying with them. That, and the smoking body of a single man who ended up crashing down into the West rafter of the Colosseum.
“Feng-Lung!” XJ-V shouted, rocketing towards the spot where he landed. “Feng, can you speak? Feng –“
“Cough yeah,” the blackened body of the Disciple said. “Yeah…I can speak…for what it’s worth…”
Within the arena pit, a voice then called out that broke through the storm of shouts and general alarm that filled the entire Colosseum again.
“You know the words you must say, Feng-Lung!” Mah-Jung shouted up. “Give me what I am due.”
The crowd turned on Mah-Jung then, looking at him with new eyes as they too noticed how he had suppressed his Qi energy to deceive young Feng. A dirty trick, some Cultivators said, but one that gave the earliest Cultivators a huge advantage when fighting those who rebelled against them during Qing’s reign.
How he, a mere Corporeal Temperer, had managed such a feat – that was another question.
But XJ-V was not occupired with such thoughts. As he looked down at the wounded form of his friend, he saw that Feng had not been scarred as Kai-Thai had been. If anything, the wounds done to Feng would be those he took to his pride in this moment. And those wounds themselves could take even longer to heal than even the deadliest of blows.
XJ-V saw his friend grit his teeth, clench his fist, and throw his head back like a petulant child who could not conceive of the reality in front of him.
“Feng…”
The boy turned to look at his friend, shrugging his shoulders in the next moment.
“I guess…I guess it can’t be helped, eh? Some of us are just born…for greatness.”
Before the Cog could reach towards him and help him up, Feng-Lung threw up his right arm of his own accord, and the word that was scratched from his throat reverberated through the stunned crowd:
“I…yield.”