One day passed and Bei’s collection of spiritual weapons had become unmanageably heavy.
“Good way to build overall body strength,” Bakunawa had said.
Things changed on their second full day of activity.
The sects actively sent out teams to hunt them down.
It didn’t matter.
Bakunawa waited in a square and in view of dozens of lunch time diners smacked down cultivator after cultivator.
Bei started to learn more after she realized in a fit of insight that she shouldn’t be paying attention to Bakunawa, but rather to the cultivators.
Too bad it wasn’t true insight.
The sects did learn something.
They kept their spiritual weapons at home.
Beat up sect fighters, then fly to another section of the city and do it again to a different sect.
“Why don’t you just go straight to the sect?” Bei had asked after one particularly brutal session.
The Sect of the Smashing Fist didn’t have quit in them, which, ironically, turned out to be a terrible thing for them.
“Dojo storm? Nah. They’d take that way too personally and this would get out of hand,” Bakunawa had said.
Day three was quieter.
There had only been one match.
The sects must’ve decided that they couldn’t afford to lose more of their potential tournament fighters.
A true master had met them underneath the shrine dedicated to the God of War.
The statue of his red-faced countenance glared fiercely down on the almost empty square. Long, luxuriant beard flowed down strong green-robed chest. His Green Dragon Crescent Blade stood tall and proud.
The last remaining leaves swirled in the chill morning air.
A zither played a soothing melody, though Bei couldn’t quite locate the musician.
“Is that a Skill?” Bakunawa said.
The Blind Song Master inclined his blind-folded head a few centimeters.
Bei’s mask actually measured it.
Annoyed, she thought hard to get the numbers to go away. She didn’t want to miss a moment of this fight.
“Seems like a waste of a spot unless it also gives you boosts.”
Another slight inclination.
“Okay, well, let me repeat my spiel…”
Bakunawa did so.
“Do you really want to miss out on the tournament?”
“Yes. My ears tell me that this is the greatest challenge I can face. The frivolity of the contest cannot compare,” Blind Song said serenely.
“I can respect that. Can you do something for me in return?”
“Ask and I will endeavor to comply.”
“Convince your fellow masters to concede.”
“Our pride blinds us to the hidden vipers in the short grass.”
“Yeah, but even you can see that you’re throwing eggs against a titanium wall here. No eggs, no tournament. And you know that if the Phoenix Dynasty gets involved, well, that’s, like, a huge loss of face for this city’s sects. I mean, all of you couldn’t stop one mysterious masked man.”
“Your words are true. I will attempt as you ask.”
“Cool… oh, I’ll return all the spiritual weapons too. No ransom or anything.”
“Your generosity is a bountiful as the spring river. Let us begin.”
The zither soared— and crashed into a discordant shriek.
One that Bei wanted to join in as she almost ripped off her mini-Bakunawa mask in frustration.
How could she learn when she couldn’t follow the action?
Such regret, such despair.
Master Blind Song was fast.
Less than two seconds.
She saw a vague blur underneath the shrine’s arch as the leaves swirled around in a frenzy.
And then?
The blurs resolved into Bakunawa choking the master into unconsciousness.
“Yeah, you probably didn’t catch any of that. The playback might not be that clear either. The dude was stupid fast,” he shrugged as they walked away from where he left the master in a bed of fallen leaves. “He’ll wake up in a bit. Hopefully, this message will stick. Otherwise we’re going to have to go to plan ‘grab your brother and run’.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not going to let people get turned into collateral damage. The master back there is a decent dude. He’s mindful of such things. Notice how the whole area was cleared. The other masters are probably not as cool. If another one tries their luck then there’s a chance innocent bystanders will get hurt. Let alone the building damage. The sects will then probably raise taxes to pay for the repairs, never mind that it was all their fault.”
“Or yours…”
“You have a point.”
Day three ended.
Day four began.
Onlookers gathered eagerly despite Bakunawa exhorting them to go away.
“C’mon, people! Do you want to get caught up in a fight? Buildings will be blown up! There’ll probably be fire or ice or nature!” he leaned down to Bei. “What’ll make them leave?”
“Nothing. Martial challenges are frequent. Or so I’ve heard. Our village is far from here and the Shining Glory Sect rules alone so there aren’t opportunities to observe and learn.”
“Seems like they’re here though,” he nodded towards a small group of young men and women in purple robes embroidered with the golden sun shining on a field of swords.
Bei recognized the sword-wielding young master from a few days ago.
“They arrogant? They look arrogant.”
Bei nodded.
“Oh, yeah, that’s, like, the default.”
The crowd parted to allow Master Blind Song to approach.
“The five great martial sects of the city are in accord. You, Bakunawa, are granted entrance into the tournament by our overwhelming generosity and humility.”
“Great! Finally, reason!” Bakunawa gestured.
Bei hefted the heavy sack with a grunt and carried it Blind Song.
The master regarded her curiously.
The blindfold gave nothing away and she was glad that her mask did the same.
Although, her gut clenched when Master Blind Song raised a brow at her.
“As promised,” Bakunawa said, “all the spiritual weapons I won. None damaged… I might’ve accidentally dropped a few on some unknown monster or mutant animal crap.”
“You give no face?” Blind Song said, more curious than insulted.
Bei had counseled against the defilement, but Bakunawa had swayed her with a few simple words.
“You act like shi— crap, then your spiritual weapon gets crap all over it,” he had said when he had forced her to help.
Such disgust… such vindictive glee.
She had prayed for forgiveness until she realized that if one god was to appreciate the act, it would be the god of vengeance… if there was a god of vengeance? She had reminded herself to ask Grandmother.
“Nope,” Bakunawa said. “You don’t get respect from me for beating down on peasants. Forcing people to be peasants, well, the last few days was just a teaser of what you get for doing that. Tell all your fellow masters that. I’ll reiterate my message during the tournament.”
Master Blind Song bowed and departed with the bag of smeared spiritual weapons.
The crowd grumbled with disappointment as they too left to continue on with their day.
“We’ve got a day to kill, what do you want to do? Any sights you want to see?”
“No,” she said before thinking.
“Psst, I can fly, remember?” Bakunawa whispered. “You can literally pick almost any place.”
“The tallest mountain,” she blurted.
She didn’t know of the tallest mountain specifically, she just loved the sensation of flight and had always wanted to look down on the world.
“Okay, maybe a tall mountain. Not the tallest.”
“Why?”
To be thwarted at the last instant.
Such disappointment, such suffering.
“Your mask doesn’t have an integrated oxygen system. Also it’s cold up there, but I saw a store down the street, we can get you some mountaineering clothes. Which means a merely tall mountain is your current ceiling,” Bakunawa chuckled.
She didn’t see a cause for levity.
This sounded more dangerous than she had thought.
Perhaps—
“C’mon, those mountains look pretty tall,” he pointed eastward.
Bei felt like a pillow bundled up in multiple layers wrapped in a puffy jacket and pants as Bakunawa carried her to the first tall mountain in her life.
The view was as awe-inspiring as she had imagined.
The giant flying monster was less so.
Covered in monster blood, Bei didn't find the flight back as enjoyable.
Bakunawa called it a day.
They cleaned up at the safe house before heading to a hotel close to the stadium where the tournament was set to take place.
“Is this wise?”
“Yeah, it’s cool. Now that we’re in the tournament they can’t mess with us or it’ll be bad ‘face’ or something like that.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Not really…”
“The sects will leave us alone, but only the sects. Grandmother warned me.”
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
“So, like, secret assassins?”
“Or other ways to get you to do something that’ll allow them to kick you out without losing face.”
“Okay.”
Bakunawa spun on his heels and walked back toward the alley.
Bei skidded to a halt and chased after him.
“Back to the old house, which is too bad. I heard that place had an awesome restaurant with good dim sum. Figured you’re getting sick of instant noodles.”
“No! I love them! They fill me up.”
“I guess I can probably pick up some dim sum for breakfast tomorrow. The fights don’t start until later. We can miss the opening ceremony crap. Plenty of time to find out when my match is supposed to start.”
As it turned out Bakunawa had the honor of fighting in the first match.
Bei had a seat close to the action by virtue of being his ‘disciple’.
The stadium used to hold matches where two teams tried to kick a round ball into a net according to Grandmother.
She was on the fence about that story.
It sounded frivolous to her and Grandmother did occasionally like to tell tall tales.
Be that as it may, the stadium was filled to the brim.
The amount of people in one place stunned Bei.
The noise of their chanting and stomping would’ve overwhelmed her had it not been for the mask dulling the noise.
Bakunawa stood on one end of the dirt-covered field.
The master known as Rain of the Heavens stood on the other end.
“Phew… made it just in time.”
Bei jumped out of her seat.
She had been alone in her section.
Minokawa sat two seats to her left.
The bird mask’s lifeless eyes regarded her.
“Sorry,” he shrugged.
“Grandmother?”
“She’s fine. All your neighbors that took me up on the offer are safe and sound in Manila.”
“Thank you,” Bei bowed before sitting back down.
“A deal’s a deal.”
“Does this mean we can save my brother now?”
“Soon. Bakunawa wants to send his message,” he sighed.
Bei nodded.
“And you’re okay with waiting? Even if I can grab him and take the both of you to your grandmother?”
She considered the question.
“You are both martial masters. Even if you aren’t cultivators. Despite my desires, I don’t have the strength to argue otherwise. It is why I seek to begin my Dao.”
“Feel free to argue with us if you want. We won’t take it as an affront to our personal pride,” he snorted.
“I also would like to watch the sects humbled.”
“So, did you learn anything from watching Bakunawa’s fights? Gain insight or insight? Or is it enlightenment?”
“Not much. They always move too fast and watching the recordings isn’t the same.”
Minokawa wiggled his fingers in front of her eyes.
“What did you do!” she recoiled.
“I’m helping…”
“Did you cast a spell? I don’t feel different!”
“You’ll see.”
Further complaints withered away on her tongue as the fight started.
Rain of the Heavens flowed low to the ground like—
“Rising tide drowns the shore,” Minokawa said.
Bei blinked.
She saw it… she saw it!
The master wasn’t moving too fast for her eyes like the others.
Rain of the Heavens suddenly rose skyward with a flutter of his fine, blue silk robes splashing Bakunawa with a wall of water that appeared out of nowhere.
“Like a magic spell, but different. Qi’s like half mana and half stamina,” Minokawa continued, “but completely different,” he sighed.
High in the air, Rain of the Heavens’ sleeves billowed as he thrust his hands down toward the waiting Bakunawa.
“Rain cleans the unwashed… the names on these techniques,” Minokawa shook his head. “So, it looks like the Qi use is mostly instinctive. The more precise the form and technique the more powerful and efficient the result.”
Bei nodded.
She could see parts of it.
The Qi flowed through the master cultivator’s body as it gathered and moved to his hands before becoming sharp droplets of water.
Insight blessed insight!
Water tore Bakunawa’s shirt.
Steam rose around him.
Rain of the Heavens lightly stepped across the air, continuing to thrust his hands down to Bakunawa.
“Here it comes…” Minokawa said.
Bakunawa turned to keep Rain of the Heavens in front of him.
“Shoryuken!” he yelled, jumping the height of a small building to uppercut Rain of the Heavens in the chin.
Minokawa let out a long breath.
Bei thanked him for whatever he had done that allowed her eyes to follow the fight.
Ivory twinkled in the sunlight amidst the red rain.
Rain of the Heavens crumpled to the ground. His face planted in the dirt with his butt to the sky.
Such pain, such embarrassment.
Bakunawa bowed to the stunned crowd.
Bei glanced over to Rain of the Heavens’ disciples.
“Honor is easily cast aside in the face of human emotions,” Minokawa said lightly.
“They can’t attack! It’d be the height of dishonor! The other sects wouldn’t allow it.”
“They would if they could.”
Bei studied them more closely.
Muscles stood taut as knuckles whitened around weapons.
It was as if they strained against chains though none were visible.
Bakunawa sauntered over with all eyes on him.
“I smell Peking duck,” he said. “Let’s get Peking duck for dinner.”
The masks came off for them to eat at the restaurant.
Bei had concerns, but neither Bakunawa or Minokawa did, so she took her mask off as well.
The aroma in the restaurant reminded her of the rare special occasions a handful of times in the year when the Shining Glory Sect felt generous and provide real food for her village to turn into a celebratory feast.
Like Minokawa, Bakunawa had black hair and brown skin.
She didn’t find it odd that their specific features continually slipped from her grasp.
“Move go well?” Bakunawa said.
“Yeah. Only a few decided to stay,” Minokawa said.
“That’s not good. Can’t imagine the sect’s going to be happy about losing most of an apartment building’s worth of people.”
“Shining Glory will be surprisingly magnanimous about it. More asking polite questions than torturous interrogation.”
“What!” Bei mumbled around a mouthful of soft, fluffy bao wrapped around crispy duck skin and juicy meat.
She had caught the last few words.
“Don’t worry, your grandmother is safe in Manila,” Bakunawa said.
“Yes, but what about the others that didn’t go? Maybe, I can talk to them?”
“Something told me that they can’t be convinced otherwise,” Minokawa said. “This place is home for them.”
“People got to be free to make up their own minds,” Bakunawa said. “How’s Bei’s little bro doing?”
“Bai is fine. Untouched. The sects are taking that prophecy seriously. No one wants to screw it up. He’s under constant guard by hidden masters. One from each of the big five sects,” Minokawa said.
“Which ones?”
“Thundering Rhinoceros, The Cat Sister, Gloom of the Concrete Forest, The Ice-crowned Tempest, and Happy Heron.”
Legendary names.
Bei had never seen them in person, but she had heard all the stories.
“Hmm, don’t know them,” Bakunawa said. “A couple sound like they’re perfect for secret bodyguard duty. Some do not.”
“Just because you’re a chonky bruiser doesn’t mean you don’t have good concealment.”
Minokawa was right.
One’s Dao determined one’s abilities.
Physical appearance didn’t always run in parallel with that.
“Sure, but when I think of rhinos, I don’t think of stealthy shadow lurking,” Bakunawa said. “Well, they’re your problem, so give me the scouting reports.”
“I only have one for your next opponent.”
“Bullcrap. I know it took you, like, a minute to do one for all my potential opponents.”
Minokawa reached into his bag and handed a small stack of paper.
“Thanks,” Bakunawa stuffed them into his murse.
“Welcome. So, tomorrow… your opponent is the Lash of the Scarlet Scarf.”
“Let me guess… the scarf is the weapon?”
“Yeah, but its a last resort, secret-type weapon. He uses chain whips and blood manipulation openly.”
“Easy.”
“You know, doing this whole tournament thing is a waste of time,” Minokawa sighed.
“Yeah, maybe, but Bei’s learning from watching, right?”
She glanced at Bakunawa and chewed hurriedly to answer.
“Yes. I believe I learned something today for the first time. Although, it’s hard to explain.”
“Don’t worry about it. I figure you’d have to be a cultivator-type or on the way to really get it,” Bakunawa patted her on the head.
“There is a bit of a complication I discovered on my way here,” Minokawa said. “The Great Sage of Beijing is going to be here for the finals.”
“Old Lai Lu is still kicking around… I knew him from awhile ago. Me and him talked the dragon off smacking the phoenix brat down,” Bakunawa whispered to her.
She had so many questions.
“This great sage is a young woman.”
“Damn is the old dude dead?” Bakunawa’s brow raised.
“Semi-retired, as far as one can be in this world,” Minokawa said. “Apparently, he’s trying to ascend beyond his mortal limits through fasting and meditation.”
“Ah, what level is he stuck on?”
“Fifty-nine.”
“So, I guess this means the phoenixes are interested in Bai?”
“Mildly, they’re content to let the tournament’s results decide things. The sage’s coming to ostensibly be in place in case the finalists need real healing.”
“And the real reason is to test Bai and decide if they should take him?” Bakunawa snorted.
“Yup.”
“Figures. Is the sage going to be a problem for you?”
“Only to our plans of remaining completely unknown. She’s got some abilities that might be able to see to the truth of things even with all my tricks.”
“C’mon, man, get good,” Bakunawa scoffed.
“It won’t be an issue if we act before she gets here.”
“Damn, I really wanted to win the tournament and rub it in the sects’ faces.”
“Well, you just have to weigh that desire against your identity possibly being revealed. It’s your decision. Regardless, I’m going to grab Bai and get the kids out of here before that happens,” Minokawa turned toward her, “sorry, Bei, you’re going to miss out on the final.”
She nodded in a stoic manner, as she imagined one did.
He was correct.
Little Bai’s freedom and safety was paramount.
She would never place her desire to progress on her martial path above it.
“Is it wise to speak openly about this?” she belatedly realized that they were sitting in a crowded restaurant with many full tables.
“Too late for that,” Bakunawa grinned. “It wouldn’t be proper without a fight inside a busy restaurant,” he winked.
Her eyes widened in alarm, head turned rapidly, looking for sect fighters and hidden assassins.
“Don’t do that, you a-hole!” Minokawa snapped at Bakunawa. “You scared her. Don’t worry, Bei, our conversation is safe from prying ears. Besides, they’re looking for people in masks.”
“But, you two don’t look like you belong here.”
“Close enough,” Bakunawa shrugged.
No.
Not even close enough.
She realized that they hadn’t been drawing curious looks for they definitely didn’t belong in this city at least.
Perhaps it was different in other places, like in Grandmother’s stories.
“It’ll be fine, I promise you,” Minokawa continued. “You’ll watch the fights, gain insight and then we’ll get your brother and bring the both of you to your grandmother.”
Bei nodded as she continued to stuff her face with tasty, tasty food and juice.
They talked of more inconsequential things.
Topics concerning family, growing children mingled with talk of horrible sounding monsters and places.
Bei was content to listen.
Occasionally, they asked her about her own life.
She shared little and when they noticed that she was uncomfortable they asked her about her efforts to become a cultivator.
Such a subject was easier for her to speak of.
Time passed slowly, yet dinner finished all too quickly.
Bei had never eaten so well. Her belly weighed heavily and was close to bursting.
Bakunawa had the waitress wrap up the desserts.
“C’mon, Bei, you’re about to food coma.”
“Tea,” she mumbled.
“Hmm… why not?” Bakunawa eyed Minokawa.
“I’m going to do some more scouting,” the latter rose and quickly departed.
“That a-hole,” Bakunawa said after a moment. “He left us with the bill.”
Bei’s eyes narrowed as she gave him a flinty gaze.
“Left me with the bill,” he amended. “Excuse me, miss?” he reached out to the waitress as she returned with the wrapped up desserts, which was a wide variety of sweet pastries, cakes and such. “Couple of things. Can we get a pot of tea? And, um, what sort of money do you take.”
The young woman’s eyes narrowed down at him.
“We prefer Universal Points,” she pointed to the sign hanging over the cashier. “We will take precious metals, gems and anything we deem to have value. Although, there will be an extra charge due to the effort it takes to verify authenticity and figure out the proper exchange rate.”
“Oh, I’ll be paying in Universal Points then.”
“Very good, young master, I will return with your bill,” the waitress bowed.
“Thank you for the food, Bakunawa,” Bei remembered her manners.
“You’re welcome. I can’t wait to try these,” he peeked into one of the dessert containers. “I don’t get to eat that often. Let alone fancy stuff like these. It’s kinda hard to find places to stop on my travels. Too busy anyways. An hour eating is an hour where something bad’s happening to people and I’m not there to at least try to help.”