Published: December 8th 2024, 11:20:32 pm
A month had passed quickly. The monkey was as ready as it would be.
Daoist Scouring Medicine stared down at the small fellow by his side as they ambled down the path to the training grounds. He'd considered attempting to cloth it. Its thick fur concealed its modesty well enough, but there would be a certain effect to seeing the monkey clad in the robes of the sect. In the end he'd opted against it. Today mattered, but it was the Initiate's Tournament at years end upon which both their futures would turn. Whether Li Hou won or lost today, there would be a pleasing contrast in dressing him up as a princeling for the tournament. Robes of silk and a circlet of alloyed gold perhaps. Maybe even a top-knot, the little monkey almost had enough hair.
Today, it looked the part of a wild beast ripped from its home. Naked, save for jade band on it's arm and the small sack of linen burlap at its side filled with pills.
A smile crept up upon the edge of his mouth. The little animal looked so serious. Eyes glued to the horizon, walking on two legs easily with the aid of the sect issued stave he'd acquired for it.
The monkey would never admit it, but he was fairly certain that without his continual reminders, it would have forgotten it's duel was today. Its enthusiasm had been great that first week, but the subject had slowly slipped further from its mind as time passed. It definitely would have forgotten to bring it's wager with it, having buried its ill-gotten spirit stones somewhere on the mountain.
But Daoist Scouring Medicine was proud of the little fellow for orchestrating something like this without prompting, ensuring the logistics duel went off without a hitch was a small matter.
He wanted to say something, but he was not sure what. Li Hou didn't need encouragement, his confidence already bordered upon the irrational. It'd been unwilling to hear a single word of warning from him, certain of its victory.
"They will all see you, after this." He said instead.
The monkey turned its head to meet his eyes, then chuffed.
"Am here. Was here. Man-eyes no work good." Orange-crest let out a frustrated snarl. He had so many words now, but he still lacked the words to actually convey his meaning. How was he to tell his brother that so many men looked with their will-hungers instead of their eyes and thought with their gut-hearts instead of their minds?
"If you lose, I'll find another staff for you. Not a sect one, but one of your own. It is a master's duty to see their disciple properly equipped, after all."
Li Hou chittered in that way of his, mimicking the laughter of man. Daoist Scouring Medicine stared at the monkey, trying to see what was going on in it's inscrutable mind.
"No need. Will take Yang Wei's."
Daoist Scouring Medicine let the conversation peter out as they approached the training grounds. A great crowd had assembled, dozens of lesser disciples lured from their cultivation by rumors of a novelty to gawk out. Daoist Scouring Medicine closed his eyes, letting his inhumanly refined ears occupy the forefront of his mind. A dozen threads of conversation came to him, the prudence of hushed tones insufficient before his bodily refinement.
"There he is!"
"It really does walk like a man."
"It's so cute!" One young girl all but hissed, excitement and discretion warring in her voice.
"Cute? It's a walking stain on the sect's honor." One of her fellows shot back.
"Daoists have pets. Elder Xun has that terrifying wolf of his."
"It's a Iron-Blooded Wolf. But a pet isn't a disciple!"
"Really? Some days I feel like disciples are basically pets. They own us, feed us, live far longer than us? How are we not pets?"
"You can't say that!"
Daoist Scouring Medicine exchanged that thread of whispers for another. He could think of few more useless things to listen to than an initiate trying to act like a philosopher.
"Second stage?"
"Indeed. Close to the peak, its hardly concealing itself."
Two more senior outer disciples, these past the midpoint of qi condensation. Closing in on their thirtieth year, they might never be powerhouses. But men like them would still one day be honored daoists in their own right, if they lived long enough.
"Small body." The first speaker continued. "It'll be at a great deficit in strength, even with more advanced cultivation. I'll give you three to one, if you're still interested."
"I'll take that. You're not wrong, I favor the Yang boy too, but those are excellent odds."
Daoist Scouring Medicine frowned. A pity, he could not place his own bet. It would be improper, doubly so considering the odds-maker was both so far below his status, and a member of his own sect. He hardly needed additional petty scandals besmirching his name. The sect really needed an official office to handle betting. Unfortunately, his voice of support was currently more a curse than a boon.
Another thread of whispered gossip reached his ears.
"Where do you think it got the stones? Saving its allotment? Its master?"
"I heard it stole them from some more senior initiates. Grabbed their bags then led them into a dangerous spirit beast's lair when they chased it."
"How dishonorable! I wonder if they were confederates in their scheme? Can spirit beasts talk to each other?"
"What does it matter? Man or monkey, it makes no difference. I've told you before brother, you can't trust anyone here. Anyone except me. With immortality on the line, you can only rely on family."
Daoist Scouring Medicine tuned out the chittering disciples. In truth, the crowd's mood towards Li Hou was more tolerant than he expected.
Beyond the crowd of unconcerned onlookers, there were a few more important figures. Daoist Enduring Oath sat atop a distant hill, watching from beyond the sight of the lesser cultivators. Daoist Scouring Medicine gave him a nod, receiving one in return. More importantly, Daoist Snowclad Heart was present, surrounded by a knot of disciples that laughed politely at every artless pejorative he voiced at Li Hou's expense.
An iron war-fan emanating a cold aura now adorned his belt, resting opposite his saber. Perfect. The fop had taken the bait, unsubtle as it had been.
Yang Wei stood at the center of the field, attended by a crowd of simpering toadies. He'd forgotten how artless the flatterers were at that tender age. Disciple Chang stood near them, wearing an expression that suggested he wasn't sure how exactly he'd ended up administering this affair and was not pleased about that.
Daoist Scouring Medicine took mercy upon the man, and limited himself to the expected pleasantries and necessary matters of logistics. Greetings and stones were exchanged, terms confirmed. Disciple Chang held the wagers of both sides in escrow, and would referee the bout itself. Not that Daoist Scouring Medicine would hesitate to stop it, if he felt Li Hou in any true danger.
All the while, Li Hou and Yang Wei stared each other down.
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Orange-crest spun his staff, accustoming himself to its weight and length. It was another borrowed thing, slightly longer and heavier than his last one to account for his increased size. Still slightly smaller than most, but still large for his simian frame.
His master had said it was intended for young women, which was apparently humorous for some reason that escaped the monkey.
He watched Yang Wei, resplendent in a blue sash identical to the one he had wagered. The human had such a formidable background that he had more than one of the same beautiful belt. Impressive indeed.
"A month of training appears to have done you much good, Li Hou." Yang Wei said politely. He gave his own weapon a few half-hearted practice swings. The 'blade' of his spear was more a cap than anything else, a slightly protruding lump of smooth iron that did not even attempt to ape the shape of a proper spearhead.
The monkey had not given any terms limiting his choice of weapon. Several of the fools who sought to curry his favor had suggested he bear live steel. They pointed out that a training stave was all but identical to one meant for war. Daoists would not hesitate to exchange pointers with proper weapons, and they were aspiring to that title. Yang Wei had little patience for such sophistry. What sort of coward thought first of treachery when challenged by a monkey half their size?
Orange-crest didn't trust Yang Wei. He was better than most humans. Despite the strife that had passed between them, he spoke to the monkey politely, and took his words seriously. There was an understanding between them, born of the mutual respect they had for martial learning. The gentle contempt they held for the initiates who put more effort into looking like hard workers than getting better. But something about him reminded orange-crest of red-eyes. Currents of bloodshed buried deep, a potential for violence like a summer squall.
Red-eyes was a brother, and orange-crest knew what set him off. Yang Wei left him wary.
Orange-crest drew himself up to his full height, standing face to chest with his foe.
"Let us have an honest bout." The monkey said with flawless pronunciation. "I look forward to trading pointers with senior, but no amount of training with your honored uncle will allow you to match this disciple's staff."
Yang Wei blinked, taken aback. After a moment's shock, he frowned.
"Your master coached you to say that."
Orange-crest smiled, all teeth. An expression that would be a prelude to war among monkeys.
"Yes-yes. We fight. I hit you until you give up. I take your stuff. Good plan, yes?"
"No. It's a terrible plan." Yang Wei retorted dryly.
A wave of pressure emanated outward from Daoist Scouring Medicine, silencing the crowd of onlookers. It was time, then. Yang Wei shivered. The monkey's master had a queer sort of spiritual pressure. One that felt more like a gut unmanned by fear than the suppressive weight most cultivators emanated, or the breathless height of his uncle's presence.
"Ready yourselves." Disciple Chang commanded. You will fight at my word, and continue until I call a stop, or one of you surrenders. If you continue past that point, you will spend a week in the Punishment Hall. Am I understood?"
"Yes, Senior."
"Yes, Big Chang." Orange-crest agreed.
"Begin!" Chang De commanded, stepping back to allow the dueling initiates space.
Yang Wei did not move.
Orange-crest slowly circled around him, watching as the young man's blunt spear tracked his chest. He wanted to cede the monkey the initiative? That was fine with him.
"What are they waiting for-"
Orange-crest dove forward. One of Yang Wei's feet slid back as he positioned his spear to take the monkey in the throat. The orange-crest's free hand shot out, grabbing for the top of the shaft. It wasn't even sharp! Why should he fear it?
Yang Wei retracted the weapon immediately, but orange-crest held tight, letting the spear pull him forward. So what if Yang Wei was big and strong? Orange-crest had spent his entire life fighting those bigger and stronger than him. The monkey spun, releasing his foe's spear as it retracted. Before Yang Wei could muster a proper strike orange-crest spun his staff like a club, slamming it into the side of Yang Wei's knee.
It was like hitting a mountain! His staff bounced off the man's knees harmlessly with a sharp crack that sounded nothing like the telltale thwack of hard wood into flesh.
"I might not be a suitable inheritor for my honored uncle's techniques, but my training was hardly fruitless."
Orange-crest danced backward, throwing himself into a roll to dodge Yang Wei's thrust.
"Not fair!" He yelped, rolling to the side. The dull spearhead smashed down where he'd been with a thunderous crack.
"Really?" Yang Wei asked as he struck. For the first time, their weapons met properly as the monkey blocked his swing. He bore down, then swiped across, clipping the monkey's unguarded fingers as they disengaged.
Orange-crest yelped with pain.
"I thought you were better than these cowards. Is there any complaint more pathetic than that it is unfair your foe is better than you?"
Orange-crest flared his heart-flame, letting strength fill his limbs, and charged. Yang Wei swung for his head, but the monkey ducked the blow. He thrust for the man's stomach, and Yang Wei took the blow without dodging.
A strike that should have folded a man over barely drew a grunt from him. Orange-crest wracked his mind. How was Yang Wei doing that?
Yang Wei's counter clipped his shoulder, the metal tip leaving a nasty bruise.
Slowly, he stalked forward, chasing the monkey at a walk. He abandoned even the pretense of defense, advancing behind wide sweeps of his spear that left him open to a counter. Orange-crest refused to take the bait, dancing at the edge of his range. This wasn't working.
"Come now, surely you haven't wasted the month? You were so confident a moment ago."
Qi. It was clearly qi. Yang Wei was doing something with the qi inside of him to make himself as durable as stone.
"I see your secret." The monkey lied.
"Oh? And what does that avail you?"
Orange-crest felt anger bubbling within him. There was a secret then. He turned and ran, rapidly making distance.
"What a coward. It's giving up already?"
Orange-crest ignored the jeering disciples, stuffing a pill into his mouth. Blessed relief travelled from his chest to his bloody fingers. Yang Wei continued to advance at an unhurried walk, letting the monkey recover unhindered. His mind raced. Why did he never press the advantage? Was he that confident? Or could he not?
"Really? Resorting to pills?" Yang Wei laughed. "I suppose your master is an alchemist, but I'd hoped for more from you."
Orange-crest charged the laughing young man, a plan flashing into place with the suddenness of lightning. He borrowed his form from the Rhino stance, charging with his staff set to crush Yang Wei's treasure as he had Wu Yingjie's. Yang Wei calmy braced to receive him, content to trade blows. No, if he was willing to take a hit there, trading blows clearly wasn't the answer.
Orange-crest spread a look of fear across his face, a flash of lying-doubt. At the last moment, he scrambled, throwing himself back.
"Weak." Yang Wei pounced.
"STOP!" Orange-crest screamed, his qi pouring out freely like an upturned vessel of wine.
Yang Wei froze mid step, flickers of fire-orange light dancing about his form.
The fire in orange-crest's chest flickered, and he grabbed the other two pills in his bag, stuffing them down. More qi poured into him, scorching his insides like a drought-wind. He could feel Yang Wei struggling against his command, but he had power enough to hold him for the moment.
Orange-crest grabbed the empty bag, and climbed his foe like a tree. Gently, he placed it on Yang Wei's head, cinching the tie as tight as he could around his neck. This strange art he'd stolen from his brother broke the moment it's victim was struck with a blow of any force, but so long as he was gentle, he could do what he wished.
"That cannot work." One of the watching disciples insisted.
"No. No way."
"Brother Yang! Break its spell!"
Daoist Scouring Medicine winced. It was a good idea, but why was Li Hou wasting so much time, so much qi? Immobilize was a spell for brief interruptions and suppressing those in a lower realm. To hold a peer for nigh a dozen heartbeats? The monkey must be burning through his reserves.
Daoist Scouring Medicine's fist clenched. Win, he silently exhorted Li Hou. Prove them wrong. Prove him wrong. He knew the odds, but the monkey didn't. It had done so much already that bordered upon the impossible, taking refuge in fearless audacity. What was one more dragon gate for it to leap?
Quickly, the monkey patted Yang Wei down, looking for anything else he could restrain him with. He unknotted his beautiful blue belt, pulling it free from the daoist's frozen figure. He couldn't grab his spear, stuck tight in frozen hands. But the belt was not so secure. Orange-crest looped it about Yang Wei's ankles. Tiger-shit, how did he do a knot again? His brother had shown him how to re-tie the garlics and sausages.
Orange-crest's qi shuddered. He could feel Yang Wei, somehow. Feel what he was. Ambition that burned like fire, pride and will and disdain all jumbled up into one. His qi pressed against orange-crest's spell, a steady pressure that forced the monkey to pour more and more power into it to hold him still.
Time was up. Orange-crest raised his staff, lining the blow up.
"Yang! Break it!"
"Monkey! Smash that silk-pants!"
Orange-crest spun, clutching the end of his staff with both hands. His qi was nearly exhausted, he wouldn't get a second shot. He spun once, hopped, spun a second time.
He leaped, slamming his staff into the bag covering Yang Wei's head with every scrap of power he could muster.
The recoil jarred his arms, leaving his fingers numb. It was like slamming his staff into a stone statue. But even stone would have chipped, after a blow like that.
Yang Wei went flying, sent tumbling head-over heels by the force of the blow. His spear slipped from his hand,
Fear stole words from the mouths of the crowd, as they suddenly wondered if a noble scion had just been murdered in front of them.
Orange-crest had no such fear. He charged forward, staff raised to beat the prone Yang Wei into the dirt. No mercy. Mercy was for those who were too weak to pose a threat. And Yang Wei was not weak.
Even as orange-crest charged, he could see Yang Wei beginning to stir, bringing his legs together beneath him, rising up on all fours like a monkey.
Orange-crest fell upon him like a whole pack of monkeys, his staff rising and falling like a sea in storm.
"You furry little bastard." Yang Wei hissed. Blood poured from his nose, staining the cloth bag around his head. His qi surged into the earth, and power poured into his limbs in answer. A staff slammed down into his back, bouncing off muscles made iron-hard by the sea of earth qi flowing slowly through his meridians. Slowly, he rose. His muscles felt like mountains, the same power that shielded him from the monkey's blows resisting his every effort to move.
It was as his uncle said, all the greatest powers were double edged blades. But he had the skill to wield this one.
Orange-crest rained a dozen blows down on the prone disciple. If his hits weren't doing damage, he'd just hit him more! But to his consternation, they did nothing. Yang Wei's flesh had grown even harder. Despite the punishment being rained down, he steadily rose to his feet. His hands moved slowly, ineffectively warding off strikes to his head and core. Orange-crest wove his staff around them easily. But that hardly mattered, when even strikes to the back of his knees or face did nothing.
"Come on, surely that wasn't all you had?" Even Yang Wei speech was slow. If not for his flawless enunciation, he would have sounded drunk.
Yang Wei took a slow step forward, the belt slipping off his ankle back. His fingers found purchase in the bag around his head, ripping it free.
"One good trick does not a warrior make."
Orange-crest's mind blindly groped for something, anything, to throw back at him. But neither cutting words nor clever plans rose to mind. How was he supposed to beat someone who was as hard as stone? Drown him?
His instincts screamed at him to run, to take advantage of Yang Wei's immobility to change the situation. But would that be a loss? He hissed. What was the point of his sharpened mind if all it could do is tell him why his ideas were bad, not give him good ones?
Teeth bared, he charged into the fray once more. A hundred hundred strikes could eat away at even stone.
"No. How in the ten thousand hells did he get up after that? He's in our initiate class! He's been cultivating for a month! What is that defense!" Someone said.
"Did you think that it was a joke, when people said clan scions are better than the rest of us? This is that gulf. Never forget it."
Yang Wei towered over the furious monkey like a walking mountain. He couldn't lay a hand on the storm of furry violence that danced around him, too slow to even catch it's staff.
"If you like clever tricks so much, let me show you mine."
"No!" The monkey retorted inanely, it's eloquence seemingly exhausted. "Beat you!"
The staff bounced off him, and Yang Wei exhaled. A shudder ran through him, as the stolid earthen qi within him rapidly accelerated. The mountain became a landslide, as minutes of durability were transmuted into moments of power.
He stepped forward, a single flex of his ankle almost launching him into the air. It had taken hours of practice with his uncle, to achieve the control to move in this state. His arm rose up, there was nothing convenient to kick the monkey into, so the earth would have to do. His closed fist slammed down onto the monkey's shoulder, and did not stop. He felt bones break, and followed through, driving the animal into the earth. It would not be mercy, to leave it healthy enough to get back up.
Disciple Chang shouted something unnecessary. The crowd roared.
The strength left Yang Wei, leaving his channels near bereft of qi. Despite his exhaustion, his limbs felt light without the Immovable Mountain Technique weighing him down.
"That wasn't a bad fight." Yang Wei said. "You truly tried, which is more than most men can ever say. But you will never be my equal."
"Eehhh." Orange-crest wheezed. His shoulder screamed with pain. He tried to rise, but the world went white. He tried to turn his head, to see what had been done to him, but even that small movement was too much. The pain was beyond pain, everything felt fuzzy and distant. His chest burned like a pill furnace, but his arm was colder than the Fathomless Well. The roar of the crowd filled his ears, somehow too loud to ignore but too quiet to make out any words. The white kept creeping in, filling his vision like an unseasonable snowstorm. He let the not-snow steal him away, a welcome respite from the mind-killing pain.
The monkey's master was by it's side in a moment. Yang Wei stepped back, letting him fuss over his disciple.
A crowd of young men and women swarmed him, acclamations of glory on their lips, and Yang Wei let himself be dragged away from the prone beast. For a moment, a queer surge of loneliness struck him. He cast his eyes about and wondered if any of these friendly faces would so eagerly face his spear.