Cold morning air washed over Fan Zhong’s face as the dim light of the sun struggled to rain down on the earth through sparse cloud cover. All around him the roar of the crowd and visiting martial artists could be heard as he stood under the eastern stands that made up the tournament grounds. It was here that the medics treated the contestants and also where those who were about to fight would prepare themselves.
Today was the morning of the final day of the event, a single match that would decide the winner. Thinking about it, he was filled with mixed emotions at meeting this elite core disciple in a duel. The last time they sparred had been… less than pleasant to say the least.
Now, however, he’d spent much more time in the sect and learned what it meant to be a part of it. His understanding of the culture, upbringing, and mindset of those who lived here had radically altered. In light of this and the way the woman had treated Fan Yong during their matches, Fan Zhong was struggling to pin down his feelings on the matter.
In the end, he simply shook his head while picking up his staff to slowly work through some forms. Perhaps the familiar activity would allow him to calm his mind.
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“Brother Yong, have you spoken with Brother Zhong? How are his chances of winning?” A disciple sitting near Fan Yong asked him.
Currently, he, Shen Shuren, and a few disciples were sitting at the lowest level of the central stands, right next to the arena. All around them everyone was rather excited and speaking animatedly making it slightly difficult to converse. However, after a stern look from Shen Shuren, many backed off and gave the group some space.
“Hmmm, it's difficult to predict. Disciple Sister Areal’s control is superb among First-grade martial artists. On the other hand Brother Zhong is very domineering in combat, perhaps there is a way he can brute force his way through her defenses?” Shen Shuren commented from Fan Yong’s left while the latter was still thinking of how to respond.
“Indeed, Brother Shuren’s analysis is rather good. Honestly, his estimation is most likely better than mine as he is more talented than me.” Fan Yong said while smiling wryly.
“Enough of that Brother Yong! You made it quite far in the tournament even when your focus is Spirit Cooking, this in itself is admirable.” The disciple who said this was a female disciple who focused on sword refining.
They had met while attending the basic refining lectures and through a few mutual discussions Fan Yong had gathered a dedicated group of acquaintances. Many of them focused on different refining traditions and felt slightly oppressed by the progress of their peers. As such during the tournament, the group around him currently had been cheering him on as some form of champion among the refining-focused martial artists.
Personally, he felt that his skills were more balanced rather than being focused on refining. However, Fan Yong didn’t have the heart to say so after seeing how enthusiastic the others were.
“En, Brother Yong even exchanged many blows with Senior Disciple Sister Tiyun Areal. Even some of the other core disciples couldn’t last so long against her!” Another one of the group replied.
Following this, the group of half a dozen or so refiners did their best to try to raise Fan Yong’s spirits. He simply smiled at them and nodded while inwardly holding some trepidation about the upcoming match.
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“It seems that we’ve all underestimated Junior Fan Zhong. Who would’ve thought that he could incorporate insights from our techniques so well into his staff style.” Jie Ling’s voice was full of praise as he discussed with the other Masters and Xing Zheng.
“Indeed, his talents are only seen once in a generation. What great deed did the Fan clan ancestor do in a past life to bless his clan with three such geniuses in such a short time.” Master Hu Wu sighed in admiration and also sadness upon mentioning the late Fan Long and Fan Cheng.
Silence prevailed over the high observing platform as a sullen atmosphere seemed to overtake all those present, even Xing Zheng showed a sour look on his face. To many, Fan Long was the hero of this generation, someone who had disdained preying on the weak and made that fact evident to all devils and evildoers in this area. He even went so far as to restrict the wealth and expansion of his clan instead focusing on progressing along the martial path.
During his time the amount of banditry and crime within the valley had declined significantly. Even the schemes that the clans used against each other had been suppressed, greatly reducing the tragedy of weak clans being lost to history. Although Fan Long was not one to openly attack others for doing such things, in his personal life and when negotiating he would exert this attitude to the extreme.
When others wished to have talks to work things out without bloodshed he would often work as an arbiter to ensure no foul play occurred. Now the Valley was once again in strife and no one knew how much worse it had gotten than those who led the various factions within. This was normal as mortal kingdoms were bound to have internal strife since the empire at large left them to their own devices!
Such was the way of things, the uncountable mortal kingdoms serving as the crucible through which the countless experts the empire needed were forged. Thinking of all this caused all of the Sect higher-ups to sigh in collective exasperation.
“He’s doing ok, however, it's a far cry from that brat Areal’s attainment. Still, the bet was for him to place in the top two, hmph!” Xing Zheng grumbled in a slightly unhappy-sounding voice before leveling a stern look at Master Hu Wu.
“This…” The master in question was internally stunned at that admission but quickly recovered as he responded while smiling wryly. “Rest Assured Brother Zhang Zheng, my reputation means a lot to me. Even more than 1,000 spirit stones.”
For a moment the two stared at each other as if having a silent conversation before Xing Zheng nodded and both of them started chuckling lightly. During all of this Jie Ling and the rest of the Nine Swords looked at them in confusion, feeling as if they were silent observers of a joke they were not privy to.
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Tiyun Areal eyed her opponent as he entered the arena opposite of her. Light footfalls could be heard as the crowd quieted down while both of them slowly walked through the gates on their respective side. On inspection, she noted how tall the young man was.
Indeed from far away, one might mistake him for human-colored bamboo, albeit thick and tightly wound bamboo. His brown hair was shortly cut in a traditional martial style, something that was far more function than form. A gray sect robe clung to his well-built frame and his eyes were a dark brown that seemed to harbor a hidden light.
Facing him Tiyun Areal felt something that had been lacking during their last encounter, a presence. It was something she had always felt while facing strong opponents, a force of personality and competence that seemed to press down on the world around them. When she faced the Nine Swords of the sect she could clearly feel how strong they were, as if their entire beings were sharp swords that could cleave the world apart.
Those swords were restrained and controlled to the utmost such that they would never harm what their master didn’t wish them to. Fan Zhong previously had felt like staring at a glorious palace that had been crushed into ruins, scattered and chaotic. Something that didn’t press upon the world but instead allowed the world to press onto it, something weak.
The man standing in front of her seemed to embody many things; however, weakness wasn’t one of them. Excitement built inside of her, the kind of feeling she only felt when facing a truly worthy opponent. As they looked over at each other Tiyun Areal couldn’t stop a small smile from forming on her face, this would be a duel worth remembering.
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Looking at the woman in front of him, Fan Zhong could read the expression on her face as if it were an open book. To those less trained it would be hard to call her expression one, to begin with as Tiyun Areal seemed outwardly cold and aloof as always. However, to Fan Zhong who trained in a mental technique specializing in noticing minute movements and changes, it was like she was wearing a wide goofy grin.
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It was at that moment that he understood, this woman, who seemed like a true sword immortal from the legends complete with a cold and unfeeling outward demeanor, was more akin to himself just 10 or so years ago. She hadn’t insulted him due to some feelings of maliciousness, it was instead a frustration born of the image of powerful Fan clan warriors that he had crushed with his incompetence. Those outbursts could be seen almost like the tantrums children were prone to when something didn’t go their way.
Realizing this he couldn’t help himself from chuckling lightly while slightly shaking his head.
“Hmph, does Brother Zhong find something funny about our match?” Tiyun Areal’s voice was full of disapproval as she spoke.
“Hahaha, it's nothing Sister Areal. Just the idle thoughts of this humble one. Are you ready to begin?” Fan Zhong replied in a calm tone as he got himself under control.
With a nod, she fell into a fighting stance and Fan Zhong took a deep breath, following suit. His eyes narrowed as mental energy worked to speed up his perception of the world around him. Almost immediately his opponent started bounding forward in arcing paths, weaving back and forth.
Each time the ground would crack as she landed and seemed to crouch low to the ground before pushing off with even more speed. Fan Zhong started walking forward slowly while contact juggling his staff so fast that it seemed to disappear from sight. In just a few breaths they entered striking measure and a blurring silver line struck out at him.
The attack seemed to come from his left but then snaked backward before approaching from the other side. As she approached, Fan Zhong had seen the slight tell that his opponent was keeping some of her momentum balanced. After all, studying the momentum of his opponents was one of the many skills he had worked on this past year. Knowing this he simply waited for the feint to begin and took a step that left a small crater in the ground.
His body careened in the direction the feint had come from before he stopped momentarily to turn while keeping his staff moving to conserve momentum. Landing and pivoting in a sharp turn he fell into a void gate stance and pierced out at the exposed flank of Tiyun Areal with an ‘Origin Piercing Palm.
In a blur, the staff head drew three circular motions in the air as it approached the back of his opponent's shoulder. Seemingly as if she had eyes in the back of her head Tiyun Areal simply followed through with her original slash while allowing her sword to flip grips so that she was holding it in reverse. While doing so she brought her hand back so that she caught the thrust in a reverse grip block behind her back.
During all of this, his opponent also ducked forward bringing herself low to the ground to help avoid the thrust. In no time at all, she was back up and had her sword in forward grip once more and was pushing the tip of Fan Zhong’s staff into the ground while positioning to have leverage in the bind. With a hastily thrown shin kick, he managed to make a few steps worth of distance.
Or so he intended to; however, his opponent wouldn’t allow this and her sword seemed to leave behind trailing afterimages as her eyes seemed to glaze over. At every point, Fan Zhong felt like moving his weapon to a guard position was impossible. Keeping hold of his staff while ducking and dodging to avoid fight-ending strikes was the most he could do.
As the fight continued Tiyun Areal started slowly pacing in a circle around him as they fought over control of the bind. Twelve breaths later a cut appeared on the outside of Fan Zhong’s right leg as he finally disengaged and bought some space. Currently, around him it was as if five of his opponent were pacing clockwise, appearing as one real and four afterimages.
With a roar, he rushed forward and feinted trying to break through with a straightforward ‘Origin Palm strike’. When they were about to clash he took a single step back. In the same breath, his grip shifted so that his hands were on the lower end of the staff.
Using it more like a spear he drew three circular patterns as he struck out. The first one of these was a shifting palm strike that started at the waist level and cut upward to hit his opponent’s hands. She parried this with three small taps before pressing his weapon downward toward the ground at the tip. Using that momentum Fan Zhong executed the second strike.
His staff went downward and curved at the bottom before striking at Tiyun Areal’s other side, hoping to catch her in the side of the head. The end result was that he used the force from the clash to make a downward motion to form a three-quarters counter circle in the opposite direction from his previous attack. However, this strike had already been at the maximum of Fan Zhong’s measure allowing his opponent to take a half step back and lean backward to avoid it.
Seemingly against his prior perception during this exchange, he noticed that the woman was now walking counterclockwise around him, the opposite way she had walking been just a moment ago. Now there were four afterimages going clockwise and two going counter-clockwise. Finally, he spun his staff on his outstretched palm and took a step forward while drawing the last circular pattern with the staff end as it landed back in his hands.
Channeling all the momentum he could muster in a single momentum he closed the distance with that large step. This was his most sudden and unpredictable ‘Origin Piercing Palm’, a technique designed to be used with far less preparation and telegraphing than the original technique. He even felt that this was his best execution ever of the strike, the circular movement that made the direction unpredictable, truly reaching a state worthy of Expert level attainment.
Even this was blocked, however, as two of the afterimages seemed to rush at his weapon and three rings could be heard. In actuality, the afterimages were a byproduct of Tiyun Areal setting a mental state and rhythm to move faster than even her mental energy could react. As such Fan Zhong could barely see three silver blurs, each seeming to strike his staff and sap it of momentum.
After this nine afterimages in total were left surrounding as more had accumulated during that exchange. His eyes seemed to lose track of the woman in those afterimages and suddenly he could only see the slight movement caused by a shockwave in the air at the corner of his vision. Hastily he contact juggled his staff to the side of his body while bracing his arms against it.
Force hit his weapon like a small mountain and Fan Zhong barely stayed on his feet while enduring it. A sharp pain ran through his right side as he gritted his teeth to endure it. Soft footfalls echoed in his ears from behind him as he turned to see a slightly shocked expression on the face of his opponent.
“You blocked that? Truly admirable, Brother Zhong!” Her voice was full of respect and admiration as she inclined a bow toward him.
Still fighting the pain he only nodded and rushed forward. This continued for half a dozen more exchanges until they were once again locked in a bind with Fan Zhong feeling no way to break through.
‘Ahhh, it seems it really isn’t possible.’ Fan Zhong sighed internally.
At that moment his eyes seemed to reveal a slight glint of red light and immediately he let go of his staff. Almost in the same instant, a sword pierced his right shoulder however, Fan Zhong simply rushed forward forcing the sword to pierce out his back as he tackled Tiyun Areal. Gasps and shouts came from the crowd as he drove her to the ground, driving an elbow into her nose.
After this, his fist drove into her gut while she desperately pulled her sword free. Pain raced through Fan Zhong’s body as dangerous amounts of blood-soaked his robe. In his mind scenes from the past played, memories of fields of broken bodies and dead soldiers. Facing this the pain was like a summer breeze, something not worth mentioning.
Suddenly a large force hit his right side and he was sent flying. As he rose he could faintly see the medical arrays alight with blazing green flames, however, that barely seemed to register. His opponent was fixated firmly in his gaze as the ground cracked under the force of him dashing forward once more, scraping his hands across the ground in the process.
A silver arc approached his unwounded shoulder as he got within striking measure and Fan Zhong flung the hand of his injured shoulder open as he thrust it forward. Dirt and gravel flew up in a cloud that startled Tiyun Areal for just a moment before his good arm shot up and grabbed her by the throat. With a sword stuck into his left thigh, Fan Zhong looked into her eyes and spoke.
“Sister Areal, your sword technique is profound and truly a work of art. Even my elder Fan Shun might have not been your match in the First-grade realm. However, the world is far larger than your sect. On the battlefield, your opponents care not how profound your technique is nor the courage and fire within your chest. There only life and death matter, to the Wei Dogs only life and death matter. Do you understand?” Fan Zhong’s voice hitched a few times as he grunted in pain; however, his hand maintained an iron grip on the woman’s throat.
In her eyes, he could see genuine fear, a primal terror of dying that all humans were born with. Gasping for air she frantically nodded as the commotion around the arena started to rise in volume. Some were edging towards the gates, looking on with looks of apprehension.
“Good, as a fellow martial artist I think this will benefit you.” Fan Zhong faintly smiled as he dropped her to the ground and clasped his hands in a martial salute. “I surrender. After all, my techniques can’t compare to Sister Areal’s beautiful sword arts. Another tidbit of advice, aim for the throat next time, your strikes become timid when you think you're overpowering someone.”
With this, he started limping towards the eastern gate as silence overtook the entire tournament ground.