by Wong, Tao
Wary now, Wu Ying raised his sword and scabbard. His caution paid off as the monster opened its mouth, releasing the fleshy protuberance at him only to be deflected with a flick of Wu Ying’s wrist. Even as he retreated, hand and sword shaking from the force of the attack, chi-formed duplicate tongues assaulted the cultivator at multiple angles.
“Metal copies!” Wu Ying shouted, just barely dodging an attack that tore at his robes. He twisted and cut, deflecting with scabbard and sword the chi-created copies.
As strong as his body was, Wu Ying was more focused on his aura, using it to batter at the copies. In forming his own aura around his defenses into sharp edges, he cut at the metal chi the creature formed, breaking the chi formations and dispersing the attacks.
Even as he retreated, Wu Ying attempted to launch his own attacks. The projected sword intent barely left more than a scratch on the Chan Chu—often not even that much. Ineffective or not, the attacks were sufficiently annoying to keep the monster focused on him. Yet each moment saw Wu Ying in growing danger as the creature’s strikes grew closer, forcing him into desperate acrobatics and wild defenses. Soon enough, attacks of any form were no longer an option.
Before he was entirely overwhelmed, the monster let out a croak. Its muscles twitched, blood flowing from a cut along its flank as Yu Kun dug his hooked swords into it. He twisted and pulled, tearing at the hardened flesh, attempting to widen the wound.
A flare of cold iron, of rusted metal rose from the monster. Wu Ying’s eyes widened as he reset his posture, feet skidding along the water as he called out a warning. Too late.
The Chan Chu flared its aura, and for a second, it looked like a reptilian, slimy porcupine as spikes of metal chi rose from its body. Yu Kun barely dodged the initial formation. He failed to dodge the explosion as those spikes flew from the monster’s body. Wu Ying too was subjected to the explosive aura attack, adding a number of surface wounds to his litany of injuries.
Falling backward, Yu Kun clutched his arm, a hooked sword fallen to the ground. Rather than leave the weapon, Yu Kun used his other weapon, hooking them together with a sweep of his uninjured arm. The weapons became a long whip, swirling around him as he channeled his water chi to stop the bleeding.
“You okay?” Wu Ying called.
“I’m fine. Soon!” Wang Min replied, reminding the cultivator that Yu Kun was not the only one in danger.
Worries about the musician fell away as the monster redirected its anger at Yu Kun. Whether it sensed the other cultivator was injured or it just wanted revenge, it hopped over to the other man, injured back foot bunching as it leaped. At the apex of its jump, the monster opened its mouth, unleashing a new attack of small, chi-laden metallic spitballs at Yu Kun.
Hooked swords spun in a circle, pulling water from the marsh as Yu Kun retreated from the bulky frog. Water formed around the blades, creating a circular shield of metal and liquid that intercepted the spit-laden metal chi.
“Don’t ignore me!” Wu Ying snarled, sheathing his blade and crouching low.
“No! My turn.” Tou Hei’s voice interrupted Wu Ying just before the swordsman attacked.
Like before, Tou Hei attacked with a jump strike, flying through the air to swing his staff down. Wrapped in fire chi, he plummeted with his staff leading the attack, the mountain reforming as he fell.
Metal yielded to fire and the frog sank into the ground, water splashing in a wave of loathsome liquid. The ex-monk did not stop, instead redirecting his energy to land a short distance away on an outcropping of land. Then Tou Hei pirouetted, fire dimming. Staff raised, Tou Hei waited for his opponent.
And come it did. The Core Formation stage Chan Chu was not knocked out, even if Tou Hei had managed to land a strike that had dented the creature’s head. Fire and Metal were anathema, with fire having the advantage over metal. That gave the ex-monk’s strikes a strength that the other pair lacked.
Yu Kun backed off, crouching low as he worked to stop the bleeding in his wounds more permanently. A water cultivator might not be able to injure the Chan Chu without effort, but he could take temporary measures to heal himself. A pill slipped into his mouth helped stabilize Yu Kun’s chi flows, creating a calming center as his body stitched itself together.
In the distance, protected by the trio, Wang Min began to play for real. Chords struck, mixing with the attacks that the Chan Chu launched, mingling with the crunch of iron and bronze spikes impacting wood as the monster fought Tou Hei. Her playing sped up, the timing continuing to be impeccable as notes from her song, imbued with her air chi, drove deep into the Chan Chu. Each note worked deeper into its body, invading muscle and meridians.
At first, the Chan Chu ignored her. But perhaps somewhere deep within, it recognized the greater danger the woman held. The monster shuddered; its aura flared as it attempted to push away the aural assault. Taking advantage of its distraction, Wu Ying ducked in and cut at its injured back leg again. His attack tore at the skin and exposed tendons, fraying them further and distracting the monster once more.
Another flare of power, its aura pulsing with the same spiked defense and attack. Wu Ying jumped backward, attempting to get as much distance as he could before the spikes exploded. Tou Hei formed a flaming defense in front of the monster, blocking its view of Wang Min, while Yu Kun ducked behind an outcropping of earth, sinking into the water.
Too close, Wu Ying could not block all the attacks. A spike slammed into his left shoulder, burying itself in his wounds before it disappeared, the chi attack dispersed by his own aura. Blood flowed and strengthless fingers dropped his scabbard. As it sank into the water, Wu Ying raised his sword, spotting the jagged, chipped edges of the blade.
“Another blade!?!” Wu Ying groaned. While his unaspected chi allowed him to protect his weapons and himself, it was nowhere as powerful as earth or metal chi in that respect. And now, more than ever, as he continued to fight stronger and stronger opponents, it was showing its weakness. He had one other blade in storage, after which he’d be forced to rely on the damaged blades he still kept. “Cao nei mah!”
Thankfully, his inattention cost him nothing. Tou Hei blocked the Chan Chu’s progress, the ex-monk breathing hard, his flame aura guttering as it was assaulted by the frog. By Tou Hei’s side, Yu Kun darted out with his linked hooked swords, whipping the blades across the creature’s eyes and face. Tearing at it, distracting the monster when Tou Hei required a moment’s respite.
Joining the pair, Wu Ying attacked from behind, threatening its leg, forcing the creature to reposition itself constantly or be maimed.
It was, to Wu Ying’s surprise, an easier fight than he had expected. The creature was powerful, each of its attacks so intense that they often threatened to cripple or kill with a single strike if they were not deflected or shifted to non-vital areas. But at the same time, the beast was simple, artless in its aggression and form.
Its greatest ability was the greater defense its metal attunement gave it. Crippling attacks became nothing more than light wounds, blinding strikes doing little more than annoy it. Each attack had to be reinforced with chi, forcing them to expend greater and greater energy.
“How much longer?” Wu Ying called as he dodged. He knew Tou Hei would never ask, would never complain. But Wu Ying could tell, he could sense that his friend was lagging, his smaller than normal chi reserves draining away.
“I can do it,” Wang Min called, her fingers never stopping playing.
If anything, Wu Ying sensed that she sent even more chi into her aural attacks. The Chan Chu shuddered, rage growing as it tried to near her and was stymied again.
“Then do it in five breaths!” Wu Ying enjoined her, shifting position.
As if they had rehearsed it—and they had—Tou Hei dropped back, giving ground. The frog followed, eager to finish the ex-monk and the one it protected. Yu Kun stopped attacking, retreating to the side as he grabbed his sword from his other blade and took hold of both in either hand. His wounds flowed again, bu
t the cultivator ignored it.
There was no need to speak, for the change in notes was signal enough. A harsh, discordant chord was struck. It made the air, the chi shudder. Wu Ying sensed the way the discordant note made the remnant air chi twitch. Buried in the Chan Chu’s body, the dregs of Wang Min’s aural assault rippled, tearing at meridians and muscles, locking it in place as pain shot through the monster. For a second, its aura failed entirely.
Together, Wu Ying and Yu Kun struck.
Yu Kun jumped forward, his swords swinging, hooks digging deep into the wounded side. Searching for a grip, for tendons and muscles to pull away.
As for himself, the Sword’s Truth combined with Dragon’s Breath—the Dragon’s Truth—formed Wu Ying’s attack. He pushed sword intent into the tip of his sword as he lunged, targeting just above the monster’s front legs. Aiming for the creature’s heart.
A straight lunge, with everything Wu Ying had within him. All the strength that flowed through his dantian, all his chi formed into a single cutting edge empowered by his understanding. Power flared and his blade sank deep into the monster. When his attack finished, when the initial impetus died, he dug his feet into the soggy ground and pushed, driving his sword deeper.
The Chan Chu threw itself from side to side, spinning in a circle and splattering blood from the open wound Yu Kun had created. Blood, smelling heavier of rusted iron than ever, stained the ground, flooded the shallow waters.
Wu Ying slipped and twisted, gripping his embedded sword with every ounce of strength. As shoulder and wrist jolted with each twist, a snap resounded as his blade broke off within the monster. A moment later, the cultivator was struck by the spinning body and sent tumbling into the water. As he struggled back to the surface, feet finding purchase on yielding, muddy ground, he noted the monster still standing. Its movements had grown slower, but even if the monster was not as stupidly enduring as an Earth-attuned creature, it was still strong.
Tou Hei had returned to the fight, but his strikes were slower and less powerful. Wang Min had switched her attacks, launching blades of air at the monster rather than burrowing deep within with her music. As for Yu Kun, he was back, attempting to widen the wound that poured blood in ridiculous amounts.
Thankfully, the Chan Chu was raging, shooting edged spikes at the cultivators and the surroundings without care. A spike nearly tore into Wu Ying’s face as he struggled to pull himself out of the water, hand on a nearby root.
“It’s flagging,” Wu Ying cried as he struggled to his feet. The frog was dying. It just required a little more, just a little more… “Just add more oil[28]!”
Chapter 31
Wu Ying panted, face bleeding, leg bleeding, shoulder aching as he stood over the corpse of the Chan Chu. He leaned heavily on the sword buried in the monster’s skull, the scent and taste of raw blood and sodden marshlands filling his nostrils. Surrounding the beast, the others slowly made their way closer, limping and injured. They had killed it, but not without cost.
Tou Hei moved slowly, ribs broken, one leg dragging as he neared. He stood only by sheer force of will and the aid of his staff. Yu Kun was not much better, one arm mangled and his shoulder wound bleeding freely. Even Wang Min had finally been injured, the woman the only one not close to the monster as she stared at the destroyed guzheng, unmindful of the blood that dripped from her mouth.
“Is everyone okay?” Wu Ying called, just to check. He swallowed a healing pill, his dantian churning overtime as the Never Empty Wine Pot drew in the surrounding chi to refill his body and begin the healing process.
“I need. To. Sit down,” Tou Hei forced out. And then, without waiting for acknowledgement, the ex-monk collapsed against the still-warm flesh of the Chan Chu, crossing his legs to cultivate. Wu Ying sensed the change was not just because of his injuries but from overdrawing his chi once again.
Wu Ying frowned at his friend and looked at Yu Kun. The ex-wandering cultivator waved a tired hand, his body slowly filling as he churned the chi within his body and utilized the pill he had swallowed. Even if Yu Kun was standing, Wu Ying wondered if he could fight. If he himself could fight…
“Wang Min,” Wu Ying called.
The female cultivator jerked, her gaze leaving the guzheng, and wiped her eyes hastily with the long sleeves of her robe. “Yes?”
“Can you set up a perimeter and watch? The others need to cultivate and heal.” Wu Ying sent his mind into his own body, testing the efficacy of the pill he had swallowed and his injuries. “I’ll begin harvest in a minute.”
“Are you sure?” Wang Min asked, her brows drawing down in worry as she stared at him.
“The faster we—I—harvest the heart, the stronger it will be.” Wu Ying flashed her a half-smile. “It’s not as if I have a choice, do I?”
As experience had shown, you worked when there was work to be done. You stopped when the work was finished, not when you were tired or injured. He had too many memories of peasants limping into the field with open wounds, broken fingers, or running a fever when harvest day came. When it was time to plant.
Nature never waited for a time to be convenient. And you could only choose to act, to finish the job. Or lose an entire year’s harvest. You did what you had to do. And rested when you were done.
Wang Min glanced at her hands, then at the monster before looking at Yu Kun. She assessed the group and laughed. The laughter was a little strained, a little hysterical, but it was laughter still. “I guess not.”
She moved then, crossing the water to near the group even as she extracted yellow talismans from her ring. These would safeguard them for a few minutes, reducing the scent and smell of their battle and subtly driving away scavengers. Other talismans would create a barrier when triggered, to block those too strong or too bullheaded to be swayed.
Wu Ying watched the musician for a moment, then turned away to focus deeper within himself. He had a little while to heal himself, to replace his chi. Then he would have to cut apart the Spirit Beast and harvest its innards. Even if the metal chi the Chan Chu had gathered within itself was dispersing, cutting through the creature would be a struggle.
Luckily, Yu Kun had opened a nice hole…
***
Twenty minutes later, Wu Ying extracted bloody hands from within the Chan Chu’s body. Arrayed before Wu Ying, bunched around his sodden trousers and stained cloth shoes, were the discarded innards of the monster, parts too damaged or too lacking in value to be worth bringing back. In Wu Ying’s hands was an inert organ, the heart of the creature.
Inert to normal senses at least. But to Wu Ying’s aura, to his extended olfactory sense, he could taste the metal chi, the lifeforce of the Chan Chu still trapped within the heart. As he pulled his body from the sucking cavity, chest and face stained with the blood he’d been forced to deal with, he extracted the storage box his Master had gone through such trouble to locate.
A simple motion had the heart deposited within, sealing the chi and reducing the speed of decay. The faster they got this stored away, the more effective the antidote would be. With two such hearts, Wu Ying felt almost confident that they would be fine. It was just too bad they had no second stone for the Ben.
As Wu Ying placed the storage box in his world spirit ring, he found a wave of weakness washing over him, draining his strength. He plopped down onto the discarded viscera, creating a small splash of blood and guts. He would have vomited, but even that level of energy and reaction seemed too much for him. It was all he could do not to collapse onto his back.
“Wu Ying!” Yu Kun cried, rushing over to the cultivator. A quick check showed that Wu Ying was not injured in any way—beyond the obvious damage—and the wandering cultivator eventually dragged him out of the viscera via his armpits. He propped the man against a nearby tree, nearby the flowing water. “Rest. You’ve done enough. I’ll finish the harvesting.”
“No…” Wu Ying protested, but his voice was so soft that Yu Kun either ignored it or just missed it entirely. Watch
ing the man stride away, Wu Ying tried to protest again and even attempted to stand, only to collapse as his body enforced its exhaustion upon him. Forced to rest, he found his eyes drifting closed.
When he awoke, Wu Ying found that he had been washed off. He was shirtless and his pants were still slightly damp and stained, but the blood and viscera he had accumulated had been cleansed from him. Furthermore, the organs and the corpse of the monster had been stripped, simple scent talismans applied to make their life a little more pleasant.
As he pushed himself up, Wu Ying spent a moment perusing his body. His earlier collapse had come about due to the draining of tension, the release of stress that had built-up over the past few weeks. Now that it was gone, his body betrayed him, leaving him feeling listless and muggy.
“How long was I asleep?” Wu Ying asked. It was hard to tell in the misty surroundings of the marsh, the daylight sky covered by foliage and wisps of mist.
“Just over three hours or so,” Wang Min replied. She walked over and handed him a few pieces of charred white meat on a stick, which he grabbed and wolfed down. By the time she returned with more, he was staring contemplatively at the bare sticks.
“Slightly slimy like fish but firmer, with a heavy dose of metal chi.” Wu Ying met her gaze. “The Chan Chu?”
Wang Min nodded. After she handed over the next batch to Wu Ying, she pointed in the direction she’d come from. “Yu Kun started cooking once he was done, and Tou Hei took over when he woke. Yu Kun’s now resting.”
Grimacing, Wu Ying levered himself to his feet as he chewed and swallowed. The additional chi from the meat and the warmth of the meal was helping to restore his energy. Water from his waterskin helped as well, rejuvenating his body as he added another healing pill. Taking so many in such short order was dangerous. Too many pills would slow or even halt his progression. But they were in danger in the marsh, and such future concerns had to be set aside.