Yao struggled all the while out of the bathhouse, kicking and screaming. She struggled as they took her down the road, kicking and screaming. She struggled as they snuck into another hotel backboard cupboard for the evening, kicking and screaming. She struggled all night long, kicking and screaming. She struggled as they left in the morning and returned to the road, kicking and screaming. She struggled-

“You know,” said one of the demonic cultivators wearily, “I forgot how much energy the average cultivator has, especially when they can’t actually use it. Is she going to be doing this much longer?”

“You can relax,” snarled their leader, “it’s not long now - we’ll reach Craghair Castle shortly. It doesn’t matter how much she kicks and screams then.”

And he began to laugh maniacally, raising his head and arms to the sky. The others looked on, unsure why he was behaving that way.

Craghair Castle was a dark, forbidding place. Half ruined, towers tumbling down, it stood atop a hill overlooking fields that were as bleak as its remnants. Whatever carvings had been made in the crenellations were long since faded, and the doors lay where they had rotted off the hinges.

It was an impressive monument to decrepitude and the vicissitudes of time, and Yao would have loved to spend hours mooning about melancholically atop what remained of its walls if she hadn’t been trussed up in talismanic ropes.

The energy of the demonic cultivators, which had drained steadily as they dragged a recalcitrant and very irate princess for dozens of cultivators, increased in leaps and bounds as they approached the castle. By the time they reached its door they were frenetic, leaping and laughing and cackling and tossing the now uncommonly furious Yao in the air, back and forth from one to the other as they spun through the door and stopped dead.

And stared.

The patchwork youth whistled as he checked on the statue, completely heedless of the demonic cultivators watching him. It was a magisterial work of sculpture, the stone carved from a single block and posed perfectly, as if lifelike.

The demonic cultivators whistled at the sight of the statue, propping Yao up properly so that she could appreciate it too. She whistled in sync with them, which was impressive because the gag was still on.

The sculpture was gorgeous, a work of pure artistry, the woman carved in the stone the finest in technical skill, the stone composing it a brilliant dark green… It was, in a line, the loveliest jade beauty any of them had ever seen.

The patchwork youth was… less so. He was a hideous mix of a robot, an octopus, and a chicken, his eyes covered by red-tinted glasses and his dishevelled brown hair lying across his pale face. He leapt about the statue, cackling, his overcoat flapping about his feet. His energy was building within him, crackling as it flickered across his body. It was, Yao thought, somewhat like electricity in tone and temperament, but wilder, the howl of nature streaking through the roar of the thunderstorm.

The lead demonic cultivator cleared his throat, and called out a greeting. Strictly speaking, the castle was public ground, so he couldn’t altogether blame the patchwork youth for being there; if the youth gave him the statue without a fight, the demonic cultivator might consider letting him live. (Or maybe not. It depended on his mood, really.)

At last the youth noticed them. He waved with his left as he stood on his head. “Hallo halloo halliballiboo! What can I do for you fine gents on this glorious evening?”

And he motioned with his feet towards the night sky, which hung gently above, a blanket of soft stars lighting the cruel mess of a planet down below.

The demonic cultivator cleared his throat. “Well, you see-”

“Woah, is that a trussed up woman you have there? Not cool, bro. That is not how you ask out a lady.”

“Wha-”

“Seriously. How about you let her go, and then we can talk like men, eh?” Said the youth, still standing on his head.

“‘Let her go’? I think not. Now you listen to me,” said the lead demonic cultivator, and the youth obediently shut up. “I’m here to kill this woman, and I’ll kill you too if you don’t leave this minute. In fact, I think I may just kill you anyways-”

“Ohhh, you’re one of those. Okay. Makes sense. Tell you what broskie, I’ll humour you in just a moment - for now, I have to finish my Heavenly Tribulation.”

“Makes sense,” the lead demonic cultivator muttered, followed by, “Wait just a moment here, did you say your Heavenly Tribulation?”

“Yup,” the youth said, getting back to his feet and pumping his legs in place. His energy continued to explode, becoming wilder and stranger and more and more like the lightning of the storm, as the four cultivators contemplated him in a state of clear cut confusion.

“Now stop me if I’m wrong here, but based on your qi signature, aren’t only the Fifth Orbit of the First Circuit? That’s a whole four orbits that you need to complete your realm and ascend to the Second Orbit - which is when you should be having your Heavenly Tribulation.”

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“Oh, absolutely. And normally you’d be quite correct - you can’t skip four Orbits, normally. But, you see, I was talking to the Demon King about all the exciting ways to carve obsidian, and-”

“You’ve been speaking to the Demon King… like, recently? Hadn’t he decided to launch a military campaign to conquer the Kingdom of Fourveil?” One of the demonic cultivators remarked. Their sect had been one of those to vow to meet up with the Demon King, when he arrived in the Western Regions.

“Nah. I convinced him that the pursuit of beauty and making others happy was better than that of conquest and politics, so he scuppered his plans. But as I was saying, we were talking about the struggles of carving obsidian, and he casually mentioned that in the Western Regions there were mosses one could use to initiate a Heavenly Tribulation early. These are those mosses,” the youth said, pointing to the mosses he’d been doing headstands on until only a minute ago. Examination revealed that there were in fact patches of moss missing; and it didn’t take much longer to find the stewpot he’d cooked them in, which still had strands of moss floating in its now lukewarm water.

“Right, okay, that I can sort of understand. What I don’t understand is… why? The tribulation will be as strong as if you were the Ninth Orbit, but you’re missing an entire four Orbits of strength to draw on in resisting the thunder. Why risk almost certain death for no reason other than speeding up what would, for most, happen naturally? Is your root broken?”

“Pfft, no. My spiritual root is totally fine. I just want to see if I can animate this statue over here,” and he pointed to the statue. “Carved her myself, with the instructions and advice I got from the Demon King. Speaking of, once you’re done untying that lady all gentleman-like I’d love to know all about those knots.”

“Could you not have… I don’t know… waited?” Asked the lead demonic cultivator, his expression increasingly pained as the conversation progressed farther and farther into strange and terrible areas beyond his comprehension.

The patchwork youth considered this. “Enh, no.”

And with that, the first lightning strike came down. It blasted into the castle courtyard with a mighty boom, annihilating a reliquary in the midst of the field. The demonic cultivators scrambled for cover as the lightning came down like balls of hail, smashing through crenelations and walls and eradicating what few buildings had remained standing over the centuries.

The patchwork youth stood in the midst of it all, laughing, arms out to the sky. Lightning flickered across his coat and down his chest, but he endured it, and extended one of his arms down to the statue, channelling the tribulation lightning into his heavenly jade beauty. For the first time in his long life, the lead demonic cultivator knew what real madness was.

Yao crawled into the tribulation, her undulating body bending in ways no human body should. For once, she was glad she’d studied the Wormy Body Movement Technique under the immortal Skyzylwyg, as her spinal chords sang with a tune as painful as it was efficacious.

A stroke of lightning shot towards her, but instead of rolling away, she rolled towards it, ensuring she was directly under it when the bolt hit. It arced through her body, causing her to arc her back in pain, but it also destroyed the talismanic ropes binding her. With a triumphant roar she rose to her feet, prepared to fight, then went to hide herself as the storm continued unabated.

The youth danced around the sculpture, his hands still on it, his mishmashed limbs swirling to a manic tune as bolt after bolt slammed into him. Surprisingly, he managed to survive, his sea of qi swelling and bursting as he artificially forced his way into the Second Circuit.

Not only that, but he had somehow, someway, been successful. With a groan and a cry the jade beauty climbed up off the ground, shambling to her feet. The patchwork youth yelled with delight, continuing to prance about his creation.

“It’s alive! It’s alive!! IT’S ALIVE!!!!”

The tribulation had by now thankfully ceased, turning instead into a normal thunderstorm. It was regular lightning and mundane thunder which came down or crashed about them now, annihilating nothing and causing no damage.

The demonic cultivators, no longer terrified of the storm, emerged from hiding. With a shout of fury they raced toward the monstrous would-be physician and his monstrous would-be beauty. Yao raced out too, climbing out from under the rock she’d been using as a hiding place and seeking to run interference. She didn’t know the youth at all, but he’d technically freed her from her prison and she felt she owed him something of a favour.

The petite Confucian cultivator caught the lead demonic cultivator in a tackle as the latter drew his sword to kill the youth. The sword went flying, bouncing off the castle walls, and the pair hit the ground rolling.

Demonic energy arced across the demonic cultivator’s fingers, and he put his hand to Yao’s lower chest, sending bolts of rotten energy boiling through her. She hissed, then headbutt him repeatedly, adding in a kick to the balls for good measure.

The heavenly jade beauty, newly born, was as yet too young to participate in a fight to the death (though they start young in xianxia worlds, they don’t start that young). Consequently it fell to the pathwork youth to hold off the other two demonic cultivators, both of whom were at a higher cultivation level than he.

A higher cultivation level, but not quite his knowledge level. As the two approached him he spit oil on the ground, causing the first cultivator to slip and slide and fall off the castle cliff with a cry. The second leapt over the oil, bringing his sword down on the youth’s head.

The youth brought his mechanical arm up to block, the bronze claws turning into a saw blade. The sword met the buzzing blade and stopped, the shrieking of metal the only sound of the two men’s struggle.

The demonic cultivator sneered as his superior strength forced the youth’s saw blade down. It was hard to read the latter’s face, but there was an inescapable impression of him raising one eyebrow in sardonic amusement as the demonic cultivator’s struggles.

Then his octopus arm came back around and hit the demonic cultivator in the jaw. The latter gagged, wheeling backwards, only to feel a searing pain in his thigh as the youth’s chicken claw ripped through his tendon.

He started to fall back, back onto the ground, but didn’t survive the descent. As his sword moved out of the way the youth’s saw blade completed its deadly arc, slicing through his throat. The demonic cultivator hit the ground with a thud, his corpse twitching.

The youth walked over to the castle cliff edge and looked down. Of the second demonic cultivator there was no sign. He had evidently taken off, seeing no hope of victory, and the patchwork youth saw no way to catch him.

The lead demonic cultivator would shortly be no more. He was kicking and screaming as Yao drove home blow after blow, hurling his curses to the uncaring stars.

“Ow- oh come on- doesn’t your clothing mark you as a member of the nobilit- aaaggggh.”

This last curse came out strangled as the princess bit his throat, then smashed his skull with her fist. The youth whistled.

“Darn… they don’t mess around with their professional wrestling here.”