After a moment of strained silence, he furrowed his brow. “Why are you fools pausing? You’re all competing to see who’s the best, right?”
A handful of hesitant nods.
“Good,” said Dui Zhang with a smile, earning a dozen surprised gasps when he held out a coin glimmering with golden fire in the moonlight. “Then let’s see who’s actually the best. One of you men taking bets?” Several merchants raised tentative hands. “Good,” repeated Dui Zhang. “You be sure to award the winners a tenth share of whatever coins are bet this night, and all future nights for this trip. And the winners of the final match by month’s end with spear, dao, or grappling earns a gold crown for each category and guaranteed employment with Sun’s Caravans at top rates, so long as they don’t ever act the fool and make us lose face.”
The de facto bookies rapidly nodded as the sparring guardsmen cheered. Even Alex cracked a smile, impressed with how well Dui Zhang had boosted morale and the competitive spirit of the soldiers. And as pretty as the golden coins flashing in the moonlight were that were quickly put away, Alex knew that most of that perceived generosity and consequent boost to morale would be paid by for by the bettors themselves.
An adroit maneuver, as far as Alex was concerned. Everyone already accepted that the bookies were taking one part in ten, even going so far as to place odds on wax tablets, Alex had noted that night, so a tenth for the bookies and a tenth for the winners was nothing too extreme, or so seemed the general consensus.
Admittedly, Alex was surprised to see such sophisticated betting and exchanges going on, up to and including betting tiles being exchanged with farmhands or guardsmen eager to wager on the matches. Even the competitors themselves were allowed to place bets, so long as they only bet on themselves to win.
Yan caught his wide-eyed look and chuckled softly. “I’m guessing you haven’t had that much exposure to the major cities. Commerce in all its forms is highly sophisticated there, unlike in Ruidian holdings or farming communities. Far beyond even what you’ll see in trade towns like Yizhen. It’s a well-known fact that well-to-do city folk will bet on almost anything, and any trader worth his salt knows how to manage bets on caravan runs. Don’t be surprised if you find bored merchants, farmers, and guardsmen exchanging as much coin betting on evening fights or games of luck or strategy during our journey as they might make on the trip itself! Only rule is, no matter how skilled you are, or how much of a buffoon your opponent is, you can’t wager a man into debt or indentured servitude, or a guardsman on the coin he has yet to earn, lest you kill morale and earn a bad reputation.”
Yan flashed a cold smile. “Of course, that’s only true on caravan runs. Plenty of people can and do end up betting themselves and their families into absolute ruin in private wagers or the vice halls of the red district of every major city in the entire province. Probably the whole damn empire.”
Alex gave a sad shake of his head. “Damn shame to see people destroy themselves like that.”
Yan nodded, lowering his training spear back into a low, ready stance, Alex reflexively responding with a hanging guard as they began cautiously circling one another. “Indeed it is. But it’s just one more arena for the bold to enter in this life. One more chance for those with the skill and talent to prosper and thrive, even as those who lack savvy, skill, and strength will succumb to folly and sorrow. When you think about it, Alex, those who dare the cultivator’s path face a similar struggle for prosperity and survival, where the weak fall and only the strong survive.” Yan chuckled softly. “Or so those who believe in forging disciples in the flames of conflict would indoctrinate into your skull the minute you become an initiate at any martial sect or academy. But the reality is, if you’re smart and savvy enough to make alliances and avoid trouble and instead choose the scholar’s, healer’s, or alchemist’s path, the only obstacle you need to face and overcome is yourself.”
His philosophical gaze shifted to a predatory smile with the din and clang of dao and shieldmen facing off to the roar of the crowd in the adjoining circle some fifteen feet from their own. “Come, Alex, I believe our audience is getting restless. Time for us both to forge ourselves in conflict far more visceral than any roll of the dice!”
Alex nodded, which was the moment his foe darted forth with a probing thrust quickly turned to a winding counter when Alex intercepted, the powerfully-built man whipping his shaft back in line and lunging for Alex’s midriff. But Alex had already darted away.
For a time they danced about the ring, their staves weaving about as they each probed the other’s defenses, striking forth with blows to the head or lunges to the torso, legs, feet, wherever their foe was most vulnerable, happy to incorporate mock-slashing blows as well as thrusts, in concession to the naginata and fangtian ji, not just the spear, that were their weapons of choice. And both were honorable enough to concede a point, even when one landed a glancing blow on the other.
Alex incorporated the winding parries from White Crane as well as the strong defensive blocks and counters Golden Realms had instilled in him, yet kept his form free from the flow of Qi, seeing this as an opportunity to test his skills and hone his reflexes in a friendly bout where he had to be at the top of his game, not try to overwhelm his opponent with a Qi-enhanced strike that would end the match so abruptly that Alex would learn nothing from the exchange and perhaps hurt Yan as well.
But he was doing his best to take his opponent’s measure, to hone other skills besides the physical, soon feeling that visceral thrill of insight when Yan’s flow of Qi suddenly shone so clearly to Alex’s inner eye it was almost like he could sense his opponent’s attacks before they came, sensing where the man was weakest as well.
So when Yan abruptly switched tactics, trading cautious thrusts at maximum range for abruptly charging in with a spinning strike that would have cleaved right through any mortal opponent had the weapons been real, Alex was ready.
Yan blinked in momentary surprise, registering only in the instant of contact, that Alex had shifted his grip for half-staffing so fast it was if he had known the killing strike was coming, before knocking Yan’s weapon aside and whipping the staff butt around for a blow to the skull that the now flustered-looking cultivator just managed to parry, as Alex had known he would, the pair now in grappling range as Alex had planned from the start, his leg whipping about in a sweep kick designed to knock Yan right off his feet.
Opponent successfully struck! Your opponent takes no damage!
Alex winced as his opponent grinned, both of them now on their feet and springing back, spears forgotten. “I was ready for you that time, Alex! You’ve proved you’re a worthy enough opponent that I don’t need to hold back as much this time, whether or not you can actually cultivate! And this time we’re using fists and feet as well as grappling.”
Yan patted the mock dagger of bamboo at his belt. “Submission or a pin, or a mock blow to the throat wins.”
Alex nodded, secretly pleased to have pushed Yan to the point he’d take him seriously and use whatever Qi disciplines he had developed that Alex was eager to see, and perhaps learn from.
Which he realized he should have sensed the instant his opponent’s leg had felt rigid as iron, now noting the Earth Qi that was infusing Yan’s flesh as he concentrated on it, making his leg as hard as stone, and his fist as well, a mighty blow slamming forward with the power of a boulder, that Alex could only roll with, not avoid completely.
You have been struck by Earth Fist. Damage partially deflected. Your armor has been dented! You have taken 1 Light Wound!
Yan immediately stepped back. “Let’s take off our armor and continue from here. No point in damaging your bronze so bad it costs you as much to repair as we make on this trip, yes?”
Alex immediately nodded. “This one thanks you,” he said, knowing this concession was almost always automatic for everyone who wore rigid armor as opposed to chain mail or padding alone. Just one more practical step caravan guards took to avoid excessive costs or
damage to themselves or their gear.
Tung, observing along with the spectators at his master’s behest, frowned as they both stepped back and Alex immediately began to strip himself down to his padded gambeson, Yan also taking off his excess armor to even the match. “But, master, why should a proper cultivator even bother with armor like Alex is, if everyone hits so hard they’ll just warp and destroy it? Doesn’t it make sense just to use our Stone Arts to absorb the blow?”
Yan didn’t say anything, just gazed at Fangsu who smacked Tung’s head. “Armor’s not about blocking blows from a cultivator you’re dueling. It’s to prevent you from being injured by countless arrows or spears used by the mortal infantry you’re not paying attention to while you focus on the cultivators on the other side of whatever conflict you’re involved in. It also makes it a damn sight harder for any mortal scout or assassin to take you down with a surprise attack. Besides, Master Yan might not need armor any more, but you know your Stone Shield isn’t anywhere near good enough to trust it facing off against multiple mortals, let alone another cultivator.”
She smiled as her friend flushed and lowered his head, patting his shoulder sympathetically. “And my own defenses aren’t that much better, for reasons it still pains me to admit. So for now, best we wear our armor so we can survive until we’re so good we hit Silver one day, and can laugh in the face of any mortal threat.”
Tung’s gaze immediately brightened at that. “Silver! Do you think we’ll really get there one day, Fangsu?”
Alex grinned at their byplay but paid it no more mind, his armor and practice spear now set aside under the watchful eyes of the young disciples, as were Yan’s own, both of them at opposite sides of the circle once more, charging in unison when the bookie for their match blew shrilly and the crowd of a dozen or so merchants and farmhands cheered on their bout.
“Ten copper on the Ruidian!”
“One silver on Master Yan!”
And on the voices roared as the merchant took bets, Alex having no idea how the man kept track of odds and tallies, handing out appropriate markers as the odds seemed to flow and shift just like his and Yan’s tactics, Alex thought, before finally tuning it all out and just focusing on the charging opponent now crashing into him once more.
And this time Alex didn’t hesitate to embrace the storm of Qi all around him as he redirected another Stone Punch attack that would have literally blasted through any mortal like a boulder, aided by the fact that Soul Sight allowed him to sense attacks tapping into elemental Qi far easier than non-powered ones. And the look in Yan’s gaze when Alex’s White Crane parry had the man jerking forward off balance, Alex’s spinning elbow then catching Yan’s right temple, was worth the price in pain.
You have struck Stone Shield defense! Skilled positioning prevents crippling injury! You have taken 1 Light Wound! Your opponent appears to be stunned!
In that half second his opponent was vulnerable, Alex sent him crashing to the ground with a sweeping hip throw, and though Yan instinctively braced his powerful Bronze body so as to take no damage, Alex was already landing on top of him with a mock bamboo knife at the man’s throat.
Yan blinked in seeming disbelief before flashing a surprised smile.
“Well done, Alex.” He chuckled as Alex helped him to his feet, nodding his approval, turning to his somewhat dismayed students while brushing wet grass off his clothes. “What did you learn there, disciples?”
“That Alex is a better fighter than you?” Tung said, before wincing at the crack of Fangsu’s palm against his cheek.
“That Alex read your Stone Fist attack,” Fangsu said. “If it had connected, the match would have been yours. Instead he read your maneuver, weaved aside while striking your temple, and swept you off your feet.”
Yan nodded. “Correct. You will notice he didn’t do so unscathed. His elbow is no doubt a throbbing mass, and hopefully not fractured. I will check as a courtesy, for that is the price when daring to strike one warded by Stone Shield. However, he struck one of the weakest points in any guard, the zygomatic bone, where it is thinnest by my eye. And my Stone Shield was weakened as I poured so much of my Qi into my strike.”
These words he said softly enough that only his apprentices could hear.
Yan then gave Alex a respectful bow as onlookers groaned or cheered and coin and tiles changed hands. “If you’d be so kind as to let me check your elbow, Alex? I do have some liniments on hand, and if you don’t mind my query, I would absolutely love to know how you managed to read me so...” He stepped back, looking profoundly surprised. “I... most remarkable.”
“What is it, Master Yan?” Tung asked, but Alex already knew what had so caught Yan’s disbelieving stare.
His momentarily bruised but thankfully unbroken elbow was now completely healed.
Yan blinked, slowly shaking his head, furrowed brow making it clear he was far more troubled about this than losing the match. Powerfully-built and broad-shouldered, but an inch or two shorter than Alex, he lifted his gaze to meet Alex’s own. “I felt the crack of your elbow against the ridge of my brow. And how brilliantly you took advantage of that moment. But still, Alex, you should have paid a price.”
Tung frowned at his master. “Maybe your Stone Shield wasn’t working?” he asked.
“No. It was,” Alex assured, earning three curious stares before realizing the significance of what he said. “At least, it felt like it to me,” he quickly amended. “If anything, I should be apologizing to your master. That’s a blow that normally shatters eye sockets and can easily lead to eye loss or blindness. I was a fool to give into vicious instinct and use it in a friendly bout,” he said with an apologetic smile for a bemused-looking Yan.
“But your master’s... zygomatic bone,” Alex continued, the word translating instantly in his mind, “didn’t crack or shatter. For which I’m exceedingly grateful.”
Yan grinned. “It was a good fight, and I hope you’ll spar just as intensely with me whenever we compete. We have a full month on the road at least. Plenty of time for us both to learn from the other,” said Yan as the bookie, flashing a deferential smile, approached Alex with a small silk pouch.
“Your winnings, sir.”
Alex smiled and held out his hand, the bookie pouring out a handful of copper, but keeping the pouch. Alex smirked and went over to his pack by the shared wagon they slept under, stuffing away the coin before returning to the bouts. He now took the time to study the panting fighters dueling with spear, dao and shield, or grappling as the evening wore on. He smiled at the cheers of onlookers and bettors, noting as well the groans of the defeated, and for all that he actually received more than a few welcoming nods of recognition and a warm smile from a group of bettors holding up a clay flask of rice wine, happy to share a drink with him, whenever he smiled an invitation, grins quickly turned to grimaces as potential sparring partners turned away.
“Well of course the mortal guards don’t want to fight you,” said none other than a smirking Fangsu when Alex sighed and returned back to their sleeping area beside a particularly large produce wagon. “You actually beat Master Yan twice! And he’s a powerful Bronze. Frankly, I’m surprised he’s so calm about it. I think most other masters would be incensed that you even dared to challenge them, let alone defeat them.”
Alex frowned. “Wouldn’t that mean I’m a worthy opponent?”
“Alex, you’re Ruidian! If you were a true-blooded cultivator, it would be different. But everyone who lost to you yesterday, except my eccentric master, still feels the loss of face. It’s only because our bouts are friendly and you so polite and, well, that we’re all on the same team, I guess, that has kept those guards from resenting your very existence. You being so strong increases our odds of survival, after all. But if you think any of them are going to let you humiliate them again...”
Alex just sighed and shook his head. If no one was even willing to spar with him, this was going to be a very boring trip.
Then his
gaze wandered over to Yan, just a short way off with the same serene smile on his rugged features as always, adroitly dodging the overenthusiastic lunge of a roaring guardsman before darting inside his guard and felling him with a single punch to the gut.
Before helping the man up with a friendly laugh and a clap on the back.
For his victory, Yan received what looked like a sizable purse, with more than one guardsman waving at him and pumping a fist, making it clear they were eager to take him on.
At one point, Yan seemed to feel Alex’s gaze, and far from being offended at his earlier defeat, actually flashed him a good-natured wink, as if between brothers sharing a jest.
Odd. Unless...
Alex slowly turned to an animated-looking Fangsu, cheering her master on. “So, Fangsu, you and Tung aren’t opposed to sparring with me, even though I’m a Ruidian, are you?”
“Of course not,” Tung cut in, even at that moment approaching fully kitted up with dao and shield. “So, let’s get sparring! I know you can handle a polearm. Now I want to see how good you are with a dao and shield, like front line infantry protecting the spearmen behind them use.”
“And you’re sparring with me right after trouncing him,” Fangsu cheerfully declared. “I already know I can kick my kung fu brother’s butt, but maybe you can actually teach me something new.” She chuckled throatily at Tung’s momentary glare.
Alex grinned at them both, happily taking them both on with dao, staff, and grappling for a good chunk of time until Yan himself came by with an approving nod. “Well done, Alex. I think you’re forging these dull blades into something actually worth wielding!”
Tung and Fangsu both nodded in awed unison. “He did!” Tung enthused. “I learned how to properly grab an opponent’s arm and throw him three different ways! All those things that just didn’t quite click for me, that came to Fangsu so naturally, finally make sense!”
Fangsu nodded proudly. “He really has improved, master. No doubt all the lessons you taught him finally gelled in his thick head. Best of all, I finally understand how to trap someone’s dao or gladius with my shield! Even how to pressure them so as to force them off balance and make it all the easier to slice them open!” She flushed, looking strangely embarrassed. “I was always so used to taking advantage of my strengths, I guess I never really mastered the basics as well as I should have.”
Silver Fox & The Western Hero: Warrior Redeemed: A LitRPG/Wuxian Novel - Book 5 Page 13