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Forged
Chapter twenty

Chapter twenty

  It hurt. It hurt badly, in a lot of places.

  As Tenjo had fallen, she had made the mistake of trying to catch herself on her hands and knees, causing every small wound her arms had received to burst into pain as they strained to arrest her fall and hold up her weight, before failing and buckling.

  Worst of all though was the arrow in her leg, of which the butt end struck the ground when she hit. The force was more than enough to shove it until it pierced out the other side, bringing a new lance of agony with it as it unceremoniously pushed through the rest of her flesh and nerves.

  For a moment, she simply lay prone on the ground, able to hear the sounds of battle but unable to bring herself to even raise her head and look. Instead, she stayed on the ground, her head pressed against the blessedly cold stones.

  Her ear against the ground was given a new perspective, able to hear the muffled sounds of footsteps and the vibrations of the people moving around across the courtyard. She focused on the novelty, trying to ignore the pain of her current reality.

  As one set of footsteps became louder and drew closer, even Tenjo’s dazed mind was unable to pretend any longer that she had the freedom to rest safely, and she forced herself to turn over, back to the battlefield. As she did so, the arrow that stuck now from the back of her leg against the ground struck against the stone again, and a new spike of pain made her arms nearly give out, her elbows bending for a second before she managed to lock them straight again.

  Her blurry eyes focused past the tears that had welled up in them, and the image in front of her solidified into a single person. As she saw Jing's worried face, Tenjo let out a sigh, before being racked with another sharp burst of pain as she slipped again.

  He looked over her, eyes flitting from one injury to another. None were deep enough or in the right places to be fatal, and he felt himself letting out a sigh of relief of his own to match hers. Still though, there were a lot of them, and they looked pretty nasty.

  "I don't think you should be moving," he said. "There's kind of more of you covered in blood than not."

  "Could you please do me a favor?" She asked through gritted teeth.

  He looked back at the battle behind them that had spread out across the courtyard, growing even larger as stragglers made their way out of the many doors leading into the outside, and others retreated back into them as they lost ground.

  "I can, but are you sure it can't wait for a better time?"

  Tenjo let out half a laugh, then winced again as her body shook. "I won't be able to move properly until this arrow stops moving around. Could you please pull it out?"

  His eyes widened with disbelief. "That definitely feels like something that should wait. They have healers, you know? Who actually know how to do things like this?"

  "That would take too long. I need to find where they're keeping the prisoners in case they take them as hostages when they start losing, or kill them off for some reason," she said. "It might be for nothing, but I can't take any chances with Daichi's life, and all of the guards are working on winning the battle."

  Jing let out a nervous laugh. "You're kidding, right? You can't even stand up right now, much less go running around getting in more fights."

  "Sorry," Tenjo said. "I guess it was too much of me to ask for you to agree to that."

  She reached out for the shaft, beginning to pull it free. The wood shifted in the torn flesh and ground against exposed nerves, and the next thing she recalled was prone on the stones once more, her back arched in pain while all of the air in her lungs escaped at once in a strained gasp.

  "Stop, stop!" He crouched over her. "Just please think of yourself instead for once. There's a limit how much you can do, you know?"

  She started to reach for it again, and his hand closed on her wrist.

  "Fine, I'll do it," Jing said. "I gave my word I would do you a favor, so I will, no matter how stupid and reckless it might be."

  He drew his sword, and then cut free the head of the arrow. As he set it down, one of his hands closed on the shaft, and the other on her thigh. Then in a single quick motion he yanked the remainder free.

  He could hear as her teeth ground together, and then Tenjo's whole body relaxed, the energy of her aura already having a slight effect as it sheltered the most important veins and nerves, working to heal them first, slowing the bleeding and maintaining as much function as possible.

  Despite that, the pain that assailed her when she stood up was something that would have been easily enough to incapacitate her if she had felt it at any other time in her life. Thankfully, the arrowhead was slender enough that the muscle itself was still more unharmed than not. If a thick head with a cutting edge had been used instead, walking may have been a physical impossibility.

  A single step made her wobble, nearly pitching over. He found himself taking a half step forward, his arms starting to reach out to catch her. She didn’t fall though, and her next step, and the one after that, were both steadier than the one before.

  She looked back at Jing. "I'm in your debt for this."

  "You really shouldn't be doing this," He tried one last time. "You have no idea what you might be going in to."

  "Even if it's only a small chance, there's no way I can risk Daichi dying while I was lying around resting," Tenjo said. "Sorry, but I don't have any more time to talk. I need to get into the main building."

  He felt every bit of his body cramp up as a thought sprang to his mind, a single line that he couldn't bring himself to utter. But somehow, inexplicably, he did.

  "I'll create a distraction then, so that you don't have to fight your way through them."

  Her eyes widened. "Are you sure?"

  The surprise that appeared on her face when he said that stung his pride, and that was the one thing that pushed him over the edge, giving him a spark of some emotion other than fear and hesitation.

  "I thought you said you didn't have any more time to talk?" He replied, forcing a smile onto his face.

  She replied with a real one, the expression at odds with her bloody appearance. “Thank you.”

  The fact that dozens of doorways led in and out of the courtyard was testament to its sheer size, and that not a single one had a clear path without enemies in the way showed just how far beyond a normal gang this was in the number of men they had recruited.

  Jing couldn't feel his feet as he ran towards the nearest door, his entire body as heavy as if it had been dipped in steel. His movements were the farthest thing from smooth, and the entire situation was dreamlike.

  Was he really about to do this? There was no way this was a good idea. He didn't even have the courage or dedication to show up to sparring matches on a regular basis, and here he was about to take on multiple people with live blades?

  It was absurd, and entirely out of character for him. But here he was, moving forward and holding his sword out in front of him. Three different men faced him, all with auras, although he could tell they were nowhere near disciple level.

  A laugh bubbled up out of his throat. Then again, neither was he, and he was pretty certain they had a lot more experience at this type of thing than he did. His hands shook, the tip of his blade jerking back in forth in short motions.

  He couldn't pick an opponent to focus on, or even a stance to take. His sword ended up halfway between the middle stance where it extended out in front of him, and the side stance where it was pulled back and ready to strike.

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  Jing instead held it like a shield, the length parallel with his body and out in front of him. There was no practical reason for that, but rather it arose from his instinctive desire to cover as much of himself as possible from danger.

  He gulped, but couldn't hear anything. His sword felt as though it would slip from his sweaty and tense hands at any moment, and he clenched it harder, not even feeling the silk knots as they bit into his hands.

  All of them had stepped forward, spreading out in front of him. They drew closer, and a large enough gap opened behind them. Tenjo sized the chance, dashing from the other side down through that gap, past the open door, and into the long hallway that stretched out behind it.

  Leaving him completely and utterly alone to face the overwhelming, terrifying, intense bloodlust that the men in front of him were projecting.

  They drew closer, and Jing remained frozen, all the final traces of his false bravado drained away and replaced with the sheet mind-numbing fear that paralyzed his body. Each breath became a panicked wheeze as though he was starved for air, and the edges of his vision blurred.

  This was his chance, to be pushed to the limit and come out a new man. He was stronger than them, in terms of physical ability alone. They likely had no formal training, while he had spent years in a school that was run by a true master. All he needed to do was take advantage, and act like a warrior should.

  No longer would he be the slacker, the joke who ran away from hard training, from getting tired and feeling pain. Jing could finally be who he had imagined, who he had longed to be like his whole life.

  He stood there, at the one moment when he was put under pressure at last, and for the first time in his life he was made to fight, no longer given any chance but to rise to the occasion. And he froze, and did nothing.

  A pair of guards drew their attention, and they were forced to face the new threat, no longer able to concern themselves with him. It was a perfect chance, their backs turned, the numbers evened out. Right then, he had every single advantage possible.

  And yet Jing couldn't force himself to move, even as one of his enemies was felled, even as one of the allies that had saved him was cut down. Instead, he just stood there, watching the fight concluded while he did nothing.

  Part of him saw the last flash of movement as Tenjo vanished down the very end of the long hallway. She had chosen to fight against all of them on her own, and even now, covered in wounds, less than a minute ago unable to stand, she had chosen to put herself back in harm’s way, without a moment of hesitation.

  The contrast couldn't be any bigger. He felt a burning shame all around him, suffocating him and filling him with a voice that urged him to join the battle, to redeem himself.

  Right then, he wanted nothing more. He wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything in his entire life, with a burning passion.

  But it still wasn't enough to overcome his fear. And Jing still remained in that one spot, hating himself more with every second that went by, but still doing nothing.

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  The corridors were all decorated to the extent that the weathered carvings outside seeming almost shameful by comparison. Time and time again the same imagery was repeated, the Dragon emperor always the biggest, most important piece.

  She realized now that the entire temple had been constructed in that image, with the open courtyard mimicking the dragon's open mouth, the high wall behind it resembling the spiked crown on his head, and the winding and unpredictable hallways imitating the many coils that stretched out behind him.

  Tenjo couldn't help but find herself wondering how she had never heard of something this grand, and how this important of a temple could have fallen to this extent, being neglected by priests and even taken over by a gang. The dragon held the highest ranking out of all the gods and spirits, to the extent that the heavenly emperor himself used it in his own crest, and the temple built for him was likewise always the largest and most important.

  In comparison, all of the other temples to lesser gods were at least moderately well maintained, clearly regularly visited despite the fact bitter cold and harsh winds that could put any mountaintop to shame buffeted the highest level of Oukon even in the summer.

  That coiling fashion made navigating all the harder, one way constantly running into another as it turned back and forth. Every time she turned, Tenjo became even less sure of her position, unable to find anything other than empty hallways and insignificant shrines in small rooms that had been seemingly used as living quarters instead.

  Then she rounded one more corner, and instead of a normal hallway found a narrow balcony, leaning out over the other, lower coils, and opening up to fresh, cold air. The wave of wind washed over her, and Tenjo felt rejuvenated for a moment.

  A sudden presence registered to her instincts at the same time her eyes closed on the man in front of her, blocking the path. He was dressed similarly to her, wearing a dark robe, his bound up above him in a fashion that may have once been neat, and a sword at his waist.

  He also had bandages wrapped around both his arms, black and red, of the exact same style that she had worn into the city, and the exact same style as the man who she had first killed had worn.

  His head slowly rose up to look at her instead of the view he had been admiring, paying no heed to her drawn sword as though he had all the time in the world. His eyes flicked over her from head to toe, and Tenjo got the unmistakably feeling that to him she was entirely transparent, every flaw and weakness displayed at the forefront for him to peruse at his leisure.

  "Hmm," He said, scratching his unshaven chin while tilting his head. "I've seen better, but I've seen a lot worse as well."

  Before she knew it, Tenjo had already raised her katana in front of her in a defensive stance, as though she was anticipating a lethal blow at any second.

  "So then, I guess Yumiko was unsuccessful after all," He spoke in a pondering tone, thinking aloud rather than addressing her. "I suppose I should have only expected it, if from the one who killed Dewei as well."

  Tenjo steadied herself, taking a moment to calm her breathing before responding. "Who is Dewei, and what do you and he have to do with Yumiko?"

  The man chuckled. "I almost forgot, but it's not like he was the type to introduce himself. He was my cleanup boy, who I left behind to test if anyone strong would come out of the village. Maybe if I say the rapier wielding one, that will invoke a stronger impression?"

  The image flashed into her mind, and he reacted to seeing her change in expression. "A stronger impression indeed. I was going to give Yumiko his place if she took care of you for me, but I suppose it was too much to ask for that before I even gave her the same power as him."

  "You're behind both of them then?" She asked. "In that case, would you also be behind Daichi going missing as well?"

  She was clearly outclassed in terms of aura, and judging by his level of master, in experience, techniques and skill as well. Her body was already injured enough to hold her back plenty, and her sword now had more nicks than edge and a bend sideways as large as it's curve.

  Despite that, Tenjo put an air of bloodlust into her words without trying, pure intent to kill leaking out for the first time in her life.

  He smiled, a deceptively pure and innocent grin. "That's the spirit."

  She pushed off with her uninjured leg, closing the distance in blink of an eye, her blade out in front of her and still thrust forward, the shortest possible range of movement for the fastest possible attack.

  He stepped to the side while also stepping forward, causing her to stumble over his foot as she struggled to turn around. Tenjo followed up with a horizontal slash, but it was too short. Without the slightest hesitation, she threw herself after him, moving sword and body as one.

  One blow after another, each with as much speed as she could muster, striving to build on the one before it and exploit those openings it had created, but for each he stayed just out of range, his body always just a little too far to reach and at just the wrong angle to turn the blade into.

  His aura was still inactive, and if anything, her movements were noticeably faster, but somehow he danced past them, like a speck of dust that was moved by one's hand whenever they tried to grab it, so instead their fingers closed on nothing but air. The entire time, his sword remained sheathed, and his hands dangling casually at his sides.

  "Did you really beat Dewei?" He asked. "I mean, he wasn't exactly a complete weakling."

  She cut downwards from the right side, and he stepped back again. This time though, her second movement began from the same side, this time upwards. As the man moved backwards the same way twice, his back foot hit the edge of the railing, the narrow hall not providing enough space for him to move properly.

  Then as for a second his movements stopped, Tenjo swung up and let go with her right hand, letting the other hand that was lower on the handle stretch out as far as possible in order to extend the reach of the attack just a few more inches.

  It hit nothing, swishing right past the man again as he pushed himself up onto the railing with his hands. At the same time that happened, his aura flared to life for the first time, giving off a sense of weight and power that rivaled her grandfather in its ability to oppress and overwhelm.

  Her sword was out above her now, and Tenjo was left completely exposed and vulnerable.

  There came an unmistakable feeling of being cut. It started with the bottom of her ribs, slicing up and parting flesh and cloth with equal ease as it swept across her chest in a complete arc, a perfectly executed killing blow that destroyed every vital organ in a single slash.

  Then as quickly as it had come the sensation vanished, leaving her out of breath and too stunned to move, but very much alive.

  She was left reminded of her first experience with killing intent, when she could feel the tip of the rapier pressing into her head from across a clearing, every bit as real as if it had actually been sunken into the front of her skull.

  "Not bad indeed," The man said. "Now you have me wanting to see how you fight when you aren't half dead. If you manage to survive this fight, we will likely meet again"

  She stared at him, still too overcome with the feeling of being cut down even properly process what he was saying, much less to respond.

  "Next time though," he said. "It's going to be a real sword."

  He patted the sheathed blade at his hip, and then without turning around jumped back off the railing, plummeting out of view and leaving her alone, frozen in the same instant as when he had mentally cut her.

  Tenjo snapped out of it and gasped for air, before taking a step forward and looking over the edge. There was nothing but vacant walls of stone and slight gaps of empty space that led out to the thousand-foot drop to the city below.

  The man was nowhere to be seen, having vanished just as abruptly as he appeared, the only trace left behind the lingering sensation of a nonexistent killing blow.