“You know how to fight?” Bakunawa said.
Bei grunted.
She was wary of the masked man, but she deemed the Quest worth the risks.
Congratulations!
You have received a Quest.
Participate in freeing Zhao Bai, your precious little brother.
Success Parameters: Free your brother and escape with him.
Failure Parameters: Die or be captured. Leave Zhao Bai in the hands of the sects.
Reward(s): Contingent on participation level. The greater your impact the greater your reward.
Grandmother had surprised her by agreeing.
“Grandmother taught me.”
“Do you have the class or did those sect a-holes force you to pick up peasant or something worse?”
“Yes.”
“Cool, don’t tell me if you don’t want to.”
“She taught me Bajiquan and Wing Chun, but they’re not my class.”
“Could be a good idea to keep it generalized, so it doesn’t lock you into something you don’t want. You’re young, plenty of time to figure that out. You aiming to be a cultivator?”
“Yes.”
“Cool cool. I know a bit about that. Knew a few of them from years back. They died though, so that’s sad. That Phoenix Empress, she’s a brat. Met her and her douche brother before they started the whole dynasty weirdness. She’s not a cultivator though.”
Bei processed the masked man’s words.
He sounded truthful.
She chalked up the odd word he used to the translation system.
“This was like, eight years ago. We teamed up with a dragon to take on this weird insect-lich, er, sorry, arachnid-lich, from another world. Although, might not have been an arachnid as we know it, since that’s an Earth thing. It was definitely a lich though, had a phylactery and everything. Super gross too, they laid it inside this poor bast— guy and… sorry. That’s too much gross information.”
“It is fine. I would hear more of this.”
“Nah, I can hear your stomach roiling and since we just ate I know it isn’t hunger. Don’t want you to puke in your mask. Speaking of… how is it fitting?”
“Strange, but comfortable. I know it covers my face and ears, yet I can see, hear and breathe as if I didn’t have it on.”
“It’s enchanted. Don’t know specifics and the dude wasn’t going to share even if I asked.” Bakunawa squinted toward the east. “Oh good, looks like your grandmother’s info was good. I guess being a retired cultivator keeps her somewhat connected to the local scene.”
“What is it?”
“The patrol.”
“I can’t see.”
“They’re a ways off. You got the zoom function figured out?”
“Yes.”
“Awesome. Your grandmother wants you to observe cultivators in action so, that’s what you’re going to do. Make sure to record it so you can watch it in slow-mo later to see if that’ll help you gain insight and such. Don’t forget though that becoming a cultivator is kind of an individual thing.”
“Yes, I know. My grandmother is one and she’s taught me as much as she can without polluting my potential path.”
“Fair enough. My knowledge is coming from a few conversations I had a long time ago. She’s definitely more knowledgeable than me.”
Bei spotted the patrol a few minutes after Bakunawa, even with the optical zoom in her mask. His must’ve been a lot better.
“What sect is that? Is that a squirrel?” he pointed at the flag whipping a top the truck’s roof. “… with a sword and a gun?”
“The Flying Marten Society.”
“Okay… well, stay here. You should be safe. Hold on to my murse,” he handed his small bag to her before jumping over the fifth floor balcony, crushing the street beneath his boots upon landing.
More minutes passed until the truck finally reached him.
Her heart threatened to leap out of her chest.
One did not simply greet a truck filled with cultivators with an insolent wave.
“Stand aside or be squashed, whoever you might be. We don’t have time for you or petty challenges. We are for a hot bath, wine and women. Perhaps, tomorrow you may come crawling to the Flying Marten Society compound. We’ll test you then!” one of the cultivators boomed.
The crystal clear voice across the distance was the product of a Skill.
Bei was certain.
She didn’t recognize the lithe speaker with his perfect black hair, though, his yellow and brown robes and armor were stained with battle, which lessened the grandeur.
He must’ve been one of the society’s best fighters.
How Bakunawa knew to target him and that he’d exactly be at this spot, she didn’t know.
“Forsooth, I was just wondering if you’re the guy with a spot in that little tournament,” Bakunawa gestured grandly.
“I am—”
“Yeah, don’t care what your name is. Just need confirmation. Wouldn’t want to beat up the wrong guy. That’d make me a dick.”
“I am ‘Ferocious Fang’ of the Flying Marten Society and you’ve sealed your doom, stranger,” the cultivator drew twin, curved swords.
“Those will do nicely as proof,” Bakunawa moved with a spray of broken street.
The sound of torn metal shrieked in Bei’s ears even from her distant vantage point.
Men and women screamed.
A cloud of dust and debris bloomed to swallow the scene like a volcanic eruption.
Bei missed everything.
When the dust cleared Bakunawa stood on top of the mangled truck.
Cultivators lay scattered all over the place.
One hung from an old billboard, legs kicking from where he had been shoved through the faded picture of a man.
Bei giggled at the surprised look on the long-forgotten man’s face. She supposed one would be surprised to find another man shoved in their mouth.
Another had been planted inside an old garbage container. His legs kicked in a vain attempt to free himself. The container had been crunched around him.
The rest groaned, cradling broken arms and bruised faces.
It didn’t seem possible for so much to have been done in such a short amount of time.
Bakunawa held Ferocious Fang’s swords in one hand and the man himself in the other.
The cultivator was still conscious, bloodied, but conscious.
Bakunawa brought Ferocious Fang close to his dragon-masked face.
“Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to go home and tell everyone that ‘Bakunawa’, that’s me by the way, beat you badly and wants a spot in that tournament. In exchange, I’ll let you run home. Plenty of light left and not too many monsters in this part of the city. So, agreed?”
Ferocious Fang spat.
Bakunawa dodged.
Bei’s eyes grew wide as tea saucers.
She hadn’t—
“See, I was expecting that, but since this is a negotiation, let me sweeten the offer. These swords of yours, how about I break them?”
Ferocious Fang’s eyes grew as wide as Bei’s.
“No, please, master,” another cultivator staggered to his feet before dropping back to his knees to press his head on the asphalt. “Those are the young master’s spiritual weapons. You’d cripple him.”
Ferocious Fang hissed.
“Silence, worm, you’d be—”
“Leave him alone, he’s only looking out for you. Besides, I already knew that,” Bakunawa sighed. “One of the drawbacks of creating a spiritual weapon, am I right?”
Ferocious Fang gulped.
“How do you know? You are no cultivator. I felt no Qi.”
“Or… maybe it’s because I’m so far above you.” Ferocious Fang’s blades groaned as Bakunawa squeezed. “This is a lightning deal. Time’s ticking.”
“I must deliver your message. That’s all?”
“That’s right Fangy. And no lying about how I only won through deceit and treachery. You spread the word to all the sects. I get a spot in that tournament or competitors are going to end up like you. Five days to go and I’ll ramp up production the closer we get.”
“Very well.”
Bakunawa released Ferocious Fang, who stumbled to his knees.
“It’s a good deal. Don’t worry about the loss of face or whatever. You’re the first, but I’m pretty sure you won’t be the last. In a way it’s better for you. You know how it is, people remember the most recent stuff. Now, here’s your sword,” Bakunawa flipped one over.
Ferocious Fang snatched it covetously out of the air.
“The other…”
Bakunawa laughed.
“Collateral. You’ll get it back once you’ve finished your part of the deal. I know you didn’t swear an oath, but I’m giving you a chance to be better. The arrogant young master shit is just stupid. And you’re not as bad as others. If you had been… well… try your best not to find out.”
With that Bakunawa leapt into the sky.
Bei hurried back into the building, up the stairs and to the roof where Bakunawa waited as they had planned.
“Want a sword?”
“It’s just a sword to me.”
“I know, I just wanted you to carry it. You’re supposed to be my disciple, after all. So, did you gain any enlightenment, er, insight?”
“It was too fast for me to follow.”
“Then try playing it back in slow-mo.”
Bei thought and the mask obeyed.
A strange blend of magic and technology that she’d scarcely imagined existed.
Though, she should’ve known better.
Anything was possible in the spires world.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
The fight played out in front of her eyes.
…
“You hit them without forms. None had the opportunity to strike you back,” she said flatly.
“My bad. Next time I’ll go slower and do real moves.”
“You know martial arts?” she said dubiously.
“A little bit of different stuff. I don’t really have the opportunity to use them. Monster fighting is different from humanoid fighting and most humanoids are too easy. I actually have to be careful not to accidentally hurt them too much. Picture an egg man and you have to knock him out, but without cracking the shell. It’s sorta like that,” he shrugged.
She sorta followed.
So, like a good disciple she took Ferocious Fang’s sword and slung it over her shoulder.
“I don’t know how to use it.”
“You’re just holding on to it. If Fangy does his part then we’ll give it back. Alright, let’s head over to the next spot.”
Bei never knew the exhilaration of flying through the sky.
It was over all too quickly for her tastes.
They landed in a different outskirts section of the city.
“I prepped a few safe houses,” Bakunawa led her to a small dilapidated house amidst a cluster of many more.
She was wary, but her Grandmother had told her to trust.
“There’s food, water, juice,” he gave her a quick tour, “bedroom, bathroom, one thing I have to give to the sects. They do a pretty good job of maintaining all the old city services,” he flushed the toilet, “see, indoor plumbing. Anyways, um, do what you want. We’ll go meet our next target at dawn. I’ll be out and about making sure there aren’t any unwanted surprises.”
“You’re not going to sleep?”
“Nah, I’m good for a couple of weeks.”
Bei didn’t relax even though she was now alone. The one concession she made to herself was to remover her mask. She wondered what he looked like underneath his.
The other one, Minokawa had revealed his face, but for some reason she was having a hard time picturing him.
Black hair, brown skin was about all she could recall.
“Remove extraneous thoughts,” she murmured before sitting down in the middle of the dusty old living room.
Meditation as her grandmother taught her.
Picturing the forms in her mind.
Trying to unlock the insight that led to true cultivation.
She had Qi.
They all did, according to her grandmother.
It was just a matter of unlocking them.
Did Bakunawa have Qi too?
He wasn’t a cultivator, yet he moved faster and hit harder than she had thought possible.
A different class? Or something else?
Her schooling in that regard had been stunted.
The Shining Glory Sect didn’t provide knowledge to the peasants.
Bei’s lip twisted.
Her meditative state crashed before it had time to begin.
She stood cursing and immediately fell into the forms.
Short and powerful punches, elbow and shoulder strikes to start.
Then she switched to deflecting and blocking imaginary foes to deliver her own rapid, powerful blows at imaginary vital spots on the body.
Perhaps, therein lay her problems.
Two separate styles, though not without similarities, might’ve pulled her in two directions when she needed to start on a singular path.
Although, Grandmother had warned against that way of thinking.
It was the individual that determined their own path, which meant she could utilize any number of styles or blend them.
She guessed.
Frustration took her out the forms.
She cursed.
Perhaps, that was her problem.
The lack of inner calm.
Though, how could a brute like the so-called Last Khan rise to the status of cultivator?
There was no way that man had ever been calm.
She had lost hers, so she wiped her sweat and boiled water for her instant noodle dinner.
Bakunawa had stocked the kitchen with dozens of types and flavors.
Such choice she had only heard about from her elders’ stories about stores in the days before.
She had never truly believed them, but now… now she did.
Sleep came with difficulty as it always had.
Nightmares of her parents and her brother dogged her while the moon’s rays bathed her through the dust-covered window.
“Breakfast!” Bakunawa called out in a cheery voice.
She grumbled as she first washed her face before heading to the kitchen.
“I made you an omelet,” he gestured at the monstrosity on the plate.
It took up an entire plate, like no omelet she had ever had before.
Eggs were a precious treat.
She could count the number of times she had had an omelet on her fingers.
“Eggs, bacon, ham and, uh, vegetables.”
“What kind?”
“Green and red peppers, not the spicy kind.”
Too bad.
Spice was something she was accustomed too as it wasn’t too difficult to grow chili peppers in her building, plus the sects didn’t take them like they did other, more substantial fare.
No.
They farmed for the sects before themselves.
Such was the lot of those with their classes.
“It’s still dark,” she yawned.
“Sunrise in an hour,” Bakunawa nodded.
Right, they had to meet the departing patrol at dawn.
She knew that the Green Orchard Sect had dominion over this section of the city.
Grandmother’s lessons at work.
She took the chopsticks Bakunawa held out.
“Eat up. You’re way too skinny… er… damn, I sound like my mom. What I meant to say is that. Fighters need fuel.”
She stared down at the massive omelet.
“All yours.”
“I can’t finish.”
“Just go till you’re full. There’s electricity and the fridge still works so you can save it for lunch.”
“Are you going to keep your mask on all the time?”
“Yeah. It’s safer for you if you don’t know what I look like.”
He didn’t elaborate further.
“Okay. That’s strange, but you’re helping me get my brother back,” she shrugged.
“Sure, but that doesn’t mean you have to put up with weirdos. So, fill free to give me a hard time about it.”
“I’ve already become used to it.”
“What can you tell me about the Green Orchard Sect?”
Bei chewed quickly while she recalled Grandmother’s lessons.
The sublime flavors of the yellow gold bounty on her plate and palate threatened to derail her thoughts.
She had never experienced such grandeur.
The soft fluffiness, the delectable fat flavor, the crispiness.
Is this what life was like for the sects?
“They follow the Dao of nature… um… more like aspects of nature.”
“So, like plants and junk?”
“All of nature. Animals too.”
“I guess the ‘Verdant Viper’s’ name is pretty on the nose then.”
Bei’s eyes widened and she choked.
“Her poison is legendary!” she managed after a glass of water.
“Is it poison or venom?”
“What’s the diff—” Bei thought.
Grandmother’s lessons gave her the answer a split-second after Bakunawa decided to explain.
“Venom’s when something bites you. Poison’s when you bite something. Generally speaking,” Bakunawa said.
“Weapons are covered in poison and they bite.”
“It’s a general rule,” he shrugged.
“The Verdant Viper only uses her most powerful Skills against monsters or the truly evil. The other sects banded together to impose a ruling to certain of that. In fact, the Green Orchard Sect is known for clearing encounter challenges and spawn zones rather than winning competitions for that reason.”
“Makes sense when they can’t use their best stuff unless they want to kill people.”
“Do you have a technique to counter her venom?”
“Don’t get bit,” he shrugged.
She scowled up at him.
“Relax, the Verdant Viper isn’t on this patrol. It’s another one of those arrogant young masters… er… mistresses?” he rolled his eyes.
They met the patrol just as sun’s first light crested over the eastern mountains.
The Green Orchard’s shielded their eyes from the glare as Bakunawa issued his challenged.
“Hey, sup? You didn’t happen to get the message, did you? From Ferocious Fangy?”
“Mongrel dog! You think you can extort us?”
Bei didn’t know the young mistress wielding a spear wreathed in thorn-covered vines.
“You face Hua Mei of the Green Orchard Sect! I will repay the insult you dealt to the weaklings of the Flying Marten Society! Prepare yourself, Bakunawa!”
“God damn it… I’m beating up stupid kids.”
Bei caught Bakunawa’s words despite the distance to her hiding place a top a small building.
Hua Mei’s silk robes fluttered in the non-existent breeze. Her armor glittered with jade. Her raven black hair waved around smooth skin that reminded one of fresh milk.
She was the perfect picture of martial beauty.
“Listen, young lady,” Bakunawa continued. “I just want in on the tournament. You’re set to fight, right? Don’t ruin your chance. Just leave that spear and go run back to your masters with that message. You tell them I get a spot and you get your spiritual weapon back in one piece.”
“We won’t be bullied by the likes of you. Ready yourself.”
Steely eyes bore into Bakunawa’s life-less dragon mask ones.
What level was Hua Mei?
She was young, which suggested that, like Ferocious Fang, she was likely below Level 30, thus early in her path.
Bakunawa beckoned lazily.
Hua Mei covered the wide distance in a flying lunge, thrusting her spear with one fully-extended hand.
True to his word, Bakunawa moved slower.
Bei could follow the action now.
The spear zipped past the side of Bakunawa’s head as he slipped to his right.
Hua Mei moved fast.
Bei lost count of how many times the spear darted back and forward in a vain attempt to pierce Bakunawa’s face.
He dashed forward and threw a lazy punch.
Bei frowned.
It was everything wrong in a punch.
He didn’t build power from his legs, to his hips, his back and shoulder, until finally down his arms to his fist.
He simply flicked his arm out like he was trying to punch an— Bei sighed— eggman…
The impact had her eyes widen like saucers once again.
Steel dented and jade shattered.
Hua Mei went flying toward her fellow Green Orchard Sect members.
In fact she was going to hit one of their trucks—
Until an old white-haired man snatched her from danger in a swirl of brown and green robes.
Bei hadn’t seen him move.
In fact, she hadn’t seen him to begin with.
He had appeared as if out of thin air.
Bakunawa twirled Hua Mei’s spear in one hand while standing insolently in the middle of the street.
“You’re a master?” he said.
“I am. You are, indeed, Bakunawa?”
“I am. What’s your name?”
“You’d learn it to your regret.”
“Let me guess. You came along in secret hoping to catch me off-guard.”
The old master laughed from his belly.
The young sect members joined in hesitantly.
Winter was drawing close, which meant that the morning chill had been growing more potent of late. And yet, why did it feel like a warm summer day?
“So, I beat you up then I can get in the tournament.”
“A masked stranger doesn’t simply walk into the city and make demands. Let alone enter a prestigious tournament.”
“What are you talking about. That’s, like, how it happens all the time.”
The old master glared balefully, yet, strangely, to Bei, he made no move to attack. Indeed, she was no expert, but it seemed as though he stood purposefully to avoid presenting a threat what with his empty palms held out wide.
“You are no cultivator. You have no Qi. Therefore you have no right to join.”
“There’s the gatekeeping again,” Bakunawa sighed theatrically. He spun the spear faster and faster so that it was a blur before suddenly plunging it into the street. “How much can it take?” he pressed a finger on the wooden shaft slowly bending it. “Spiritual weapon, right?”
“It would be catastrophic, but a worthy challenge for Hua Mei to overcome. She may even end up stronger for it.”
“Cold as expected. Although, bit surprising for someone that’s supposed to be all about nature.”
“Nature is as cold as it is warm. As kind as it is cruel. Children know this.”
“Got me there,” Bakunawa laughed. “How about this? I break your limbs… then I get into the tournament?”
“Or battle will endanger the young ones and their safety is my responsibility. We will withdraw and I believe you won’t force the issue. For you strike as though you were fighting delicate porcelain.”
“I still have her spear. I mean, her mom and dad are fellow masters, right? They won’t be happy with you for leaving it in my hands.”
“They’ll understand and we will retrieve it shortly.”
“I wonder… would you be so calm if it was your spiritual weapon. Run along old man. Tell your fellow masters that the longer this goes on the worst it gets. The ticking clock has a way of making the most careful of us reckless.”
“The Green Orchard Sect doesn’t forget.”
With that they piled back into their vehicles and turned around.
Bakunawa joined Bei.
“Spear?”
She took it with a sigh.
“Okay, that was disappointing, but not surprising. The big sects won’t care about the little ones. Green Orchard’s big, but the other big ones won’t care until it’s them. They’ll probably think it’s good for them that Hua Mei might be crippled as a cultivator. Bunch of dicks.”
“That is why we are going to fight others?”
“Yup. We’re going to hit all sorts of sects over the next few days. Small, big, everything in between.”
“What if they still won’t let you in to the tournament?” Bei worried about her brother.
“Honestly, that’s, like, pretty low on the priority list. We want all their attention on us while Minokawa flies your grandmother and neighbors to Manila. Once they’re all safe he can just get your brother and take the two of you to them.”
She didn’t dare hope that things would work out so perfectly.
“Don’t worry. That part’s basically a guarantee. I just want to send a very loud and public message to the sects and a few others about the perils of running a feudal society. We shouldn’t be going backwards. I mean, free food in the stores. More than enough to go around for everyone, like, thousands of times over. Smart people have been stockpiling supplies for years. There’s stasis magic for fu— crap’s sake!” Bakunawa shook his head. “C’mon, let’s go to the other side of the city,” he held out his arms.
Once again Bei experienced the joy of flight.