As Zhìlì left her lying there, Kotohime cursed herself. She cursed her foolishness for picking a fight with someone much stronger than her. She cursed her inability to properly counter this man like she had done to Li. Most of all, she cursed her powerlessness. Her charge was in danger, the people who’d taken her in were fighting, and all she could do was lay there, her body numb to everything around it.
Just when had she become so weak?
***
The dragon had grown impatient, it seemed.
Camellia knew that was an euphemism. This dragon was composed of youki and granted only the barest of intelligence. She likened it to those computers that humanity was so proud of, filled with nothing but programs that told it what to do. It had no will of its own.
That still didn’t change her feelings on the matter. The dragon had clearly decided to stop trying to burn her with its breath and attack her directly.
It roared as it swooped down to attack her with its claws. Camellia danced away as a large set of talons, each one taller than she, crushed the roof she’d been standing on. The tail came in when she dodged the claws. It descended from above like a kraken’s giant tentacle when it was attacking a ship.
She dodged that, too.
The tail smashed the roof with earth-shattering force. Concrete exploded, not with gouts of fire and plumes of smoke, but with a concussive wave that sent chunks of stone everywhere.
Several of those stones flew at her, but she was still dancing and thus, when the stones tried to slam into her body with unrelenting force, she pummeled them with her fists. A shockwave was unleashed with each impact. The stones shattered. The dance continued.
The building rumbled as the tail continued tearing through it. Camellia could hear a loud series of crashes and bangs beneath her, the sound of objects in the floors below being smashed and slammed into other objects. She didn’t know how much this kind of property damage would cost, but she imagined that Mama would not be pleased when she returned.
Camellia nearly lost her footing when the building began to tilt as the dragon tried using this opportunity to smack her off the roof with its tail. She hopped over it and slammed her fist into the tail. Her dance ensured that her power was maximized. Her youki, enhanced by the dance, disrupted the youki that the dragon was composed of.
The tail exploded in a violent surge of energy. The dragon jerked what remained of the tail back. Camellia noticed that the tail did not regenerate.
It seems this creature cannot regenerate lost parts on its own. Does that mean it lacks the youki necessary to do so?
That was one possibility. There were others, though, and she could not discount them. Perhaps the technique’s limited abilities did not extend to regeneration?
She didn’t have time to think on this. The dragon turned to her, its baleful eyes seeming to glow with rage. Clawed feet dug into the building, which continued to tilt, crumbling around her. This roof had no longer become a suitable battleground.
Camellia didn’t wait for the dragon to attack her. She leapt off the roof and dove headfirst to the ground. The dragon roared and blasted off with a mighty flap of its wings.
That flapping must have caused more property damage because chunks of stone fell all around her. Camellia was forced out of her fall when several nearly hit her. She twisted her body, feet rebounding off one of the stones and allowing her to bounce to another.
Another earth-shattering roar from above alerted her to the dragon’s presence bearing down on her. A deluge golden fire descended toward her, prepared to swallow her up. Her dance had stopped, so she couldn’t break the attack. Instead, she speared her tails into a large block of stone and flipped it around, using it as cover.
There was no heat as the flames washed over the stone. Celestial attacks were not like fire, even if some of them looked and acted as such. The attacks were meant to burn living matter, not the inanimate.
As the flames licked at the edges of her stone, Camellia pushed off and bounced to a large block several feet below her. She flipped around and landed on her feet, then used that last stone to land on the ground.
Her feet hit gravel and she took off running. A roar from overhead alerted her to the dragon giving chase, and she realized that running wasn’t an option. If she wanted to save her family, she would have to find some way to beat this technique.
She spun around to face the dragon as it swooped down on her like, well, like a giant ass reptile with wings. This was one battle she wouldn’t be able to just walk away from, it seemed.
“All right,” Camellia muttered to herself as her dance began anew. “I’ve never faced a technique of this caliber before now, but let’s see if I can’t bust you up.”
***
Daphne was beginning to curse her luck.
Like most kitsune, she was not a fighter. Combat was abhorrent to her. It was inelegant and barbaric.
Of course, she still knew how to fight—well, she knew how to defend herself. All women of the Pnév̱ma Clan were taught basic self-defense, but that didn’t mean she was good at it. She could defend herself, and she excelled at using illusions. However, that was the extent of her skill.
“Spirit Art: Spartan Cannon.”
Her tails curved around her body. Youki gathered along the tips of her seven tails and formed a giant sphere in front of her. The Spartan Cannon was one of her less powerful seven-tailed techniques. She would have preferred using Damned Souls, Colossal Thunder, as it packed more of a punch, but that took time to prepare, and time was something she no longer had.
Like igniting gunpowder, the cannon blasted off with a shock wave and a bang!
“Celestial Art: Celestial Dragon.”
Her canon met a giant golden dragon. The two attacks clashed, exploding with energy. Fierce winds whipped her hair about her face as a large dome of clashing silver and gold youki erupted from where the two techniques made contact. Daphne had to close her eyes to avoid having her retinas damaged. When she opened them again, it was to see…
… Her dwelling? Yes, it was indeed her dwelling, the house she lived in inside of the Pnév̱ma Clan ancestral home. She recognized the room easily. It was the one where she taught—tried to teach—Lilian about kitsune politics and, as of recently, human culture and history.
What am I doing here? I could’ve sworn I was somewhere else…
“Daphne-sensei,” a familiar voice called out.
She blinked. Though the voice was familiar, it sounded way too cheerful. That girl would never speak to her with such a cheerful mien. And why was she calling her sensei?
Lilian walked into the room. Her red ears twitched on her head, and her two tails waved back and forth, reflections of joy. Daphne was graced with a bright smile from the girl who had never once smiled at her.
“Lilian?” Daphne felt nothing but confusion. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here because we’re having lessons today.” Lilian’s tone suggested her reason for being there should have been obvious. “Weren’t you going to start teaching me about how the former matriarch, Delia Pnév̱ma, made a peace treaty between the Pnév̱ma Clan and the Shionzaki Clan of the Singing Hills?”
More blinking occurred.
“I was?”
“Yes.” Lilian’s concerned look bothered Daphne. “Are you feeling all right, Daphne-sensei? You’re not sick or something, are you?”
“Um, no?”
Okay, something strange was going on here. Lilian never spoke to her with such enthusiasm, nor had she displayed such concern. She never called her sensei either.
Daphne tried to recall what she had been doing before Lilian walked in, but her mind seemed fuzzy, almost as if something was hampering her ability to concentrate. Every time she reached out for her most recent memories, they slipped away like slimy eels bathed in oil. It was almost like…
Of course!
“Spirit Art: Spiritual Dispersal.”
The world around her crumbled; Lilian
disappeared, the walls disappeared, her ceiling disappeared. She was back in the real world. The night sky greeted her, a cool breeze chilled her skin, and the sound of waves crashing against the ocean met her ears.
Zhìlì stood several yards away.
“Now I see.” He looked at her with an easygoing expression that saw far too much. “So that’s how you dispel all of my illusions, regardless of how many illusions I layer on top of each other. That technique of yours shatters any and all illusions that use less power than your dispelling technique. Very impressive. Did you come up with that yourself?”
“You can’t honestly think I’ll answer you.” Daphne frowned at her fellow seven-tailed kitsune. She spotted Kotohime lying on the ground several feet behind her opponent and grimaced.
Zhìlì’s carefree shrug answered her. “I was kinda hoping you would, yeah. Isn’t that how these things work? You and I exchange blows; then we tell each other how our attacks work and why the other person fell for it. I’m pretty sure that’s how all battles go in shōnen manga.”
“Please do not say things like that while in the middle of a battle,” Daphne muttered.
“I suppose you have a point,” Zhìlì stroked his chin. “It’s not really proper battle etiquette, is it? Then again, I have never really been one for proper battle etiquette, or battle at all, really. It’s just not my thing.”
Daphne frowned. This kitsune was way too relaxed for someone who was in the middle of a battle. It was like he wasn’t even taking her seriously. She felt insulted.
Kitsune are proud creatures. This is a fact. It does not matter if they found themselves being forced to perform an unenviable task. For someone to act so dismissive of her prowess as a warrior was insulting, regardless of how much she detested battle.
“You have a lot of gall to treat me like this,” Daphne seethed. “I do not know if you are simply an insulting person by nature, or if you are stupid, but I will not stand for your dismissive attitude.”
Zhìlì scratched the side of his head. “Eh? Dismissive? I’m not being dismissive. I was complimenting you!”
“A compliment given during a battle because you do not feel threatened by my presence isn’t a compliment at all,” Daphne snapped as her tails became a rictus of activity. “Now prepare yourself. I will not allow you to mock me any further!”
“N-now just hold on a second here! I wasn’t—”
“Spirit Art: Soul Ravager!”
“Don’t interrupt me when I’m talking, dammit!”
***
Camellia’s problem began with a headache.
She had known ever since her mind came back that it would not last. That was why, for the past month, she had pretended that nothing had changed. She didn’t want to get her daughters’ hopes up when she knew it would only end tragically.
It seems my time is almost up.
It was a sad thing, the realization that her mind’s returned mental stability would not last. Even though she had known it, even though she had prepared for it, that didn’t make the knowledge easier to bear.
Still, she wouldn’t deny that the limited time she’d been able to spend with her family had been pleasant. Camellia had watched Lilian snuggling with her mate, had seen her two daughters bicker after Iris tried seducing either Lilian, Kevin, or both of them at the same time. Watching her family with a mind that hadn’t degraded to that of a child had been a blessing and a joy, one for which she would always be grateful, even if the her that emerged once her sanity left did not remember.
The dragon did not care about her degrading mentality. It roared and tried to squash her flat. Despite her growing headache, she proved deft at dodging the large clawed feet that slammed into the ground with enough force to cause a miniature earthquake.
I need to beat this thing before my mind is gone.
That much was obvious. She’d long since given up hope on backup coming to help her. This battle would have to be won on her own, without aid from anyone else.
I need to find this technique’s weakness.
Every technique had a weakness, cracks within the technique itself that, when struck, would cause the entire technique to collapse in on itself. Some techniques had more obvious cracks, such as that golden breath the dragon launched at her. However, the dragon, the being created by Zhìlì, didn’t have any obvious weaknesses. She could damage it, as shown by when she struck its tail, but that was a far cry from defeating it.
The dragon lumbered after her. Its clawed front foot swiped at her, but she avoided being hit by jumping and twisting her body so that she passed through the gap between its talons. Even so, the wind whished by her, and Camellia could almost feel the claws as they rent the air.
She landed on the ground and ran behind it.
Come on, Camellia, think! This thing has to have some kind of weakness!
Camellia called up all the information she had on dragons. As the rarest of yōkai species, she didn’t know much. Dragons were considered among some of the most powerful yōkai in the world. Each one had at least the strength of a seven-tailed kitsune, and their king, Ryūjin, was said to possess power greater than even a Kyūbi.
Their hardened leathery skin made all but the most powerful of attacks useless. This dragon was comprised of energy, and it wasn’t as strong as a true dragon, but it was still powerful enough to withstand most head-on attacks. Its tail seemed to be an exception, probably because the youki was less dense there.
What about the eyes?
Dragons had one known weakness. Their eyes. It was the only unprotected region on their bodies. It stood to reason that this technique would have the same weakness… but, no, getting to those eyes would be a problem. Still, maybe she could attack its underside? A dragon’s belly was oftentimes another vulnerable point. The belly was never covered in scales like the rest of it.
Her decision made, Camellia prepared herself for one final clash.
The dragon loomed before her. Its massive body rippled as it stalked toward her, no longer flying in the air. Camellia wondered if that meant it was running out of youki, but she didn’t ponder the thought for long. It didn’t matter anyway. Hopefully, this would all be over with one final technique.
“Extension.”
Four of Camellia’s long tails shot out and latched onto a pair of trees that jutted from the ground behind the dragon. She did not bother testing their elasticity, as she did not really care. Shōnen plot armor would ensure her success.
She moved back and the trees moved with her, bending like they were made of rubber. The dragon now towered over her, its red eyes glaring down at her balefully. She knew that, too, was an illusion. Zhìlì had done all he could to make this dragon seem as lifelike as possible, and she had to admit he’d done a marvelous job. Minus the fact that it was made entirely of golden energy, it really did look just like a real dragon.
The dragon raised a clawed foot, intent on smashing her flat.
Camellia released a breath, and then let herself go.
The dragon’s claw didn’t even have time to smash the ground where she’d been standing. Camellia, using her tails-turned-slingshot, was launched off the ground and flown head first straight through the belly of the beast. She punched a hole through the creature’s stomach and burst out the other side. The dragon, unable to maintain cohesion after having a hole ripped through it, exploded into particles of light.
Camellia kept soaring forward until she inevitably struck the ground. The world around her spun as she tumbled. Her body was battered and beaten by the mercilessly hard earth. Her bones were jarred and her skin was scraped as she rolled along the ground like a doll thrown by an angry child.
And then she stopped, lying on her back, staring at the starry sky. She sat up, blinking several times, and then proceeded to look around. She blinked again.
“Hawa?”
***
It had become a battle of illusions.
Deaf to everything around them, blind to all but each
other, the two seven-tailed kitsune continued to battle.
Illusions were a very peculiar branch of yōkai technique. They were not flashy nor were they destructive. Illusions could not cause massive explosions, create dragons made from youki, or summon the dead to do battle. All they could do was trick the mind into believing that something was happening when it really wasn’t.
Illusions required a very unique mindset. It required a mental state that most beings, be they yōkai or human, found hard to attain. Most kitsune—as in, kitsune that were not Violet—had a mindset that was naturally predisposed toward illusions.
Unparalleled spatial awareness was key to crafting a believable illusion. A glamour woven on top of the surrounding environment had to blend seamlessly and without any obvious distortions that would suggest the world the target was looking at was not the real world. Any obvious signs of change from the norm would tip off the target, making them realize they were seeing a false world, and thus allow them to break free—provided they had the ability to break out of an illusion.
There were illusions that did not follow this particular mindset. Illusions that were so obvious anyone could tell they were not real. However, these illusions were often designed to cause pain or confusion. Most illusions tricked people into believing that what was happening around them was what was really happening, fooling the mind into believing that the falsehoods presented were real.
Daphne’s body unraveled into countless white flower blossoms. Zhìlì looked around as the amount of blossoms surrounding him increased. They circled around him, encasing him in a dome of pure white that blocked out everything else, completely isolating him from the world outside. He could see nothing but this incredible whiteness.
Calmly, without showing any signs of nervousness, he took a single step forward.
He blinked when he bumped into something soft and warm. A wall of white flower blossoms stood in front of him. That was when he realized the whiteness had messed with his depth perception. Things that seemed far away were actually much closer than they appeared.
A Fox's Revenge (American Kitsune Book 7) Page 38