5

Back up the mountain I went. My calves burned. My stomach tossed around with the aftertaste of the bile on my tongue. But my anger drove me.

Soon I passed the peddler. She looked into my eyes. Seeing the fury there, she shrunk away. I kicked up dust in my wake, stepping over cracks, quickening my pace up the mountain.

The smug monk came into view but I ignored him and kept walking. He cracked an eyelid and glanced at me sideways, curious. If he sniggered that time I would not have heard. The only sound in my ears was the damp throaty cry of the muck demon.

I did not have to guess where it was. It was obvious. I marched to the lowest terrace of the rice paddy field, the putrid odors mingling with my own stench. The only thing separating me from the demon’s domain was a small plank serving as a footbridge. It creaked as I crossed. A cry sprang from my lips, answering the yokai. “Come at me, dorotabo. You seek to savor death, and I long to release my fury.”

The demon answered me immediately. Strings of bubbles traveled across the swamp-like surface. A rotted face erupted out of the water. In life a man, in the afterlife, a lipless teeth-baring abomination.

It moved faster than I anticipated. A three fingered hand rose from the watery crypt, piercing my flesh, drawing blood from my chest. I tore away from it, catching it in the face with a clog-sandaled kick. Metal rang as I drew my weapon and cut a line in the muck, daring the beast to cross me.

It sank into the mire until only its bloodshot eyeballs could be seen, then submerged altogether. It snuck up behind me with ease. But my reflexes were just as quick. With an upward stab, the jian buried itself into the dorotabo all the way to the guard. A sharp scream of pain from the monster shook my body. I kicked the corpse from my jian. The defeated demon sank into its sludge tomb.

Or so I assumed.

I was too distracted to notice the silt tsunami that arose behind it, until it was too late. A wave of dark filth enveloped me, and the undertow pulled me into the depths of the rice paddy field. The waves tossed me like a storm. I flung my arms and kicked my legs with all my might, not even sure if I was swimming up or down.

I realized that both my hands were empty, my blade lost. Finally, I breached the black surface and sucked in air greedily. Flinging my hair out of my face and wiping my eyes, I saw the yokai swimming towards me. My flailing arms struck something at my back, startling me. A splinter of relief pricked me as I realized it was the small footbridge.

Mounting the floating plank was all I could do to keep from drowning and I tried to stand, so that I might leap out of the field onto dry ground. But the yokai sent another crashing wave at me. I crouched low on the plank, reaching deep inside myself, finding my Qi. A wave of inner balance rushed over me as the outer wave threatened to drown me forever. I found my balance and rode the wave like a ship at sea.

As I shot down the wave, I reached out with my Qi summoning my sword from the depths of the water. The jian leapt from the murky swamp into my palm with a satisfying slap. I steered the plank towards the dorotabo and attacked with Tiger’s Swipe, severing its arm from the shoulder. My momentum slowed until I was forced to leap off the plank in shallow waters. To my horror, the monster’s arm regenerated as if I had never severed it. Qi built in my core, until I released it through my legs, launching myself at the monster. With the wind at my back, I attacked it using the Thousand Strikes of the Heron Beak. My sword went in and out of the monster easily, but every wound inflicted was healed within mere breaths. The monster swiped at me again and I severed off another arm only to watch it grow back.

The demon’s scream summoned another wave, washing me out of the field completely and into the trees above. I collided with a treetop hard. All the wind rushed out of my chest. Sunlight breaking through the treetops dried the mud on my torso. Yet another wave hit me like a flash flood. The water level climbed high into the trees. I ran along a winding branch using my Qi to leap out of the way of the onslaught.

Wave after wave the beast sent at me and I leapt from branch to branch like a macaque monkey. But the drying mud covering my body and my robes slowed me by the second. Soon, the sun's rays would prevent me from moving at all, like dried clay.

A new tactic struck me. I knew what I must do to finish the dorotabo.

I hacked away at the branches of the tree I was in. Instantly, a beam of sunlight shot through the dense forest of trees, illuminating the monster. The demon cried out in pain and ducked into the shadows.

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Enraged bravado erupted from my lips. “Before you die, you will fear me, dorotabo. I am the dragon slayer! I’ve laid waste the sailing sky serpents. I fear no demons.”

Sensing my triumph, I combined Swift Hare with Bear Sharpens Claws to hack large branches off of the trees surrounding the rice paddy field. Light beams poured into the monster's home from all angles. The shadows grew slim and there was almost nowhere the dorotabo could hide its entire body, leaving parts of itself exposed to the sun.

No sooner had I perched atop a rotted tree did the dorotabo launch a desperate final attack. A torrent of muck water hit the tree trunk with the force of a wild stampede of mountain ogres. The trunk exploded and I fell.

The decrepit undead demon welcomed me with open arms. It dragged me into the water, pulling me towards its open maw to be munched on by yellow molars. Teeth sank into my shoulder. I yelled. Sharp pain muddled my mind. Down, down we dove. Slime poured into my mouth, ears, and eyes. I held fast to my jian, but could hardly move in the thick of it. Bone-thin fingers cut into my neck as the creature squeezed the life out of me.

Is this how I would die? This was certainly what my former master and warlord wanted, to hear that after all my feats of prowess, I had succumbed to a nameless backwater demon. A fitting death for one so shameful. It would prove that I was truly worthless, that the guilt I bore was just and right. That I deserved the shame, and that fate had seen to my end. But despite what my former master thought was true, I knew in my heart that I did not warrant this death.

The sky serpents were benevolent creatures, we were told. After encountering a dragon, one should expect blessings upon blessings. Untold luck would charm the man who beheld a defender of the skies. What lies.

After stumbling on its cavern nest, the dragon attacked my master and I. Naturally I defended him unto death as I was sworn to do. The death of the dragon, that was. But not without being scored across the face by its claws. Yet for all my devotion, my master saw the slaying of a dragon as an unforgivable transgression. Thus I was banished, lest I taint his name anymore.

Yet after slaying a magnificent beast, I now wrestled with a pitiful bag of bones, one that proved almost too strong for me.

But within the scar, the dragon imbued me with a fragment of itself.

This would not be my end.

Blue dragon fire inflamed my scar, racing down my limbs, threatening to burn my bones. The silt retreated, receding away from me and the dorotabo until we stood on dry ground.

I pointed my weapon skyward, using my Qi to send dragon fire into the jian itself. I lunged at the demon. With the white-hot point of my sword leading, my entire body became like a fiery arrow. The monster attempted to flee, realizing its doom.

It let out one last hoarse hiss as I executed Viper’s Fang. Blue-white light from the jian spread across the monster's chest, igniting its torso, arms, and face. Its voice weakened, crackling, until it dried up like an empty well. As I pulled my sword free, the monster crumbled into dust.

6

For a few moments, nothing happened. All was still. And then slowly, from everywhere and nowhere, puddles of clean water sprang forth, growing until they touched each other and formed a larger body of water. Even the grey bark of the trees surrounding the terraced field grew into a rich dark chestnut. All of the malevolent oppression dominating the rice fields was suddenly swept up in the wind, blown away, and forgotten. Faint chirping echoed throughout the forest as birds reveled in fresh air for the first time in ages.

I reached my dirty hand down to the cool, clear water. The layered crust dispelled, purified by the water’s touch. I cleaned my other hand, then cupped water to my mouth. Chilled liquid flowed over my lips, my tongue, and down my throat. A sigh escaped my mouth and I leaned my head back and laughed. I dove headfirst into the water, submerging myself, letting the water purify my entire being.

7

After reaching the bottom of the mountain I found that a new stream flowed right past the pig farmer’s enclosure. He sat there playing the flute again, but this time as he played, my zhezhi paper pig danced to the tune, brought to life by the magic of his melody. And this time the melody flowed, soft and serene.

He sensed me approaching and stopped playing. The paper pig trotted over to me and I bent to pick it up.

“What has happened warrior?” he asked.

“I slew the demon of the mire.”

The blind herder gasped. Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. “Thank you. You have brought life back to the valley.”

From my palm, the pig scuttled along my arm until it rested on my shoulder beneath my ear.

“Now, I can leave you in peace old man, knowing in my soul that I helped a friend.”

I tried to hand the pig to him but he waved his hand in dismissal. “Keep it wanderer, to remember me.” He also handed me a large gourd jug with a stopper in top hanging by a leather strap. “For your endless journey.”

After filling the gourd, I bowed to him even though he could not see, then threw the strap over my shoulder. The rhythm of sloshing fresh water inside the gourd gave me a tempo to whistle my own version of the old man’s hichiriki tune. My skin felt renewed and a smile touched my lips.

The high mountains in the distance looked closer than ever.

My stomach rumbled. I had gone without food even longer than I had been without water. But I was mindful not to burden the blind pig herder by demanding food for my travels. Still. What I would have given for a steaming bowl of fried noodles and pork.

My mouth watered and I licked my lips at the thought of a warm meal.

END