Silver Fox & The Western Hero: Warrior Reforged: A LitRPG/Wuxia Novel - Book 2

by M. H. Johnson

  Unlike the man before him, who winced with surprise after Alex checked his strike, wincing as if he had kicked stone.

  Another element Alex and Hao Chan had hammered their limbs against when lost in the throes of body cultivation, and Alex perhaps a bit more fast and loose with his ring’s glorious potential than he should have let on.

  The man gave Alex an impressed nod. “Golden Realms?”

  Alex nodded.

  “Who was your teacher?”

  Alex smiled. “Beat me and I’ll tell you.”

  The former soldier laughed softly. “It’s nothing personal, but I’m going to do just that.”

  “I understand,” Alex said as the man charged forward, seeking to latch onto Alex’s shoulders before stunning him and perhaps cracking his rib cage with a well-placed knee bomb.

  Only to blink in stunned disbelief when Alex pivoted aside fluidly, incorporating some of the liquid grace his partner had ingrained in him as he spun his whole body around, bringing his leg around in a whipping reverse roundhouse kick that cracked against his opponent’s side, earning a surprised grunt.

  But the man was fast on his feet and a trained veteran, turning his stumbling crash into a roll and coming up light on his feet with both hands ready, for all that he was obviously in pain.

  “That sure as hell wasn’t Golden Realms.”

  Alex smiled. “True.”

  The man frowned. “It looked almost like… wait, you two arrived around the same time, didn’t you?”

  But before the man could say anything further, Alex had already pivoted and lashed out with another angled kick, this time aiming just above his opponent’s left knee.

  The man winced and charged forward, Alex hammering aside attempts to grapple and throw with forearms toughened like his thighs in a classic Golden Realms grip break, earning another surprised grimace when he immediately followed up with repeated roundhouse strikes just above his opponent’s left knee.

  The man lurched back, shaking his head. “There’s no way you should be able to strike that fast. That hard.” He frowned at Alex’s leg. “It takes soldiers years to toughen shins to that degree, those few who bother mastering our unarmed style.”

  The man flashed a grim smile, Alex only then feeling the killing gaze of a man who had fought in armed conflicts for years. “Alright, boy. You will die having earned my respect. Is there kin I should give a share of my purse to?”

  The crowd was breathless. Both by the speed and savagery with which they fought, and that his opponent actually respected Alex enough to break off and exchange words, something a smirking Liu Jian had warned him to expect when cultivators dueled, their pride almost as large as their cultivation bases.

  But to actually show Alex that much honor, an ex-slave expected to die an ignoble death in the ring that this man would instead honor post mortem, Alex couldn’t help but step back and bow. “I have no kin in this world. But should I perish before your blows, I will die before a worthy opponent.”

  The cultivator blanched at that.

  Alex grinned. “Now put your fists where your mouth is; show me what a veteran soldier can do!”

  The man barked a rueful laugh and did just that, no longer holding back, bombarding Alex with a blitzkrieg assault of hooks, jabs, elbows, and spinning backfists as feet sought to trip, knees to rob Alex of air, crack ribs, and bruise kidneys, and deadly shin strikes seeking to cripple before executing a killing blow.

  And as deadly as the man’s assault was, his frown of concentration turned to something else. As fast as he was…

  Alex was faster.

  He took hits, more than a few, but couldn’t help grinning at the delightful savagery of their battle, dancing about just as he and Hao Chan once had, no longer having to hold back. Even if his foe’s fists were harder than Hao Chan’s, a mistimed weave costing Alex a shattered nose, so too he could hit harder than his foe expected, forearms smashing wrists, elbow strikes cracking against orbital rims and temples, rigid hands striking jugular and carotid arteries, and repeated full body roundhouse kicks aimed at just above the knee with pinpoint precision.

  Until at last his raggedly-breathing opponent was gazing at Alex with something close to awe, his stocky soldier’s body heaving like bellows, shattered face covered in blood. The man chuckled softly. “Best match I’ve had in years,” he said, nodding his respect, cracking his neck, and flashing a broken grin. “Time for the next round.”

  Alex blinked, awed by the man’s sheer endurance, before his opponent collapsed with a cry, his left leg abruptly spasming and slipping out from under him, muscles too bruised and battered to even support the man’s weight, let alone deliver blows with any power, not after enduring repeated strikes with all of Alex’s power behind them.

  He glared hot daggers of hate and roared to his feet… before falling flat on his exhausted face. The crowd gasped in awe. The former soldier gave a rueful chuckle.

  “To think I’d lose. And to a Ruidian that can’t even cultivate.” He shook his head in frank admiration. “Your master trained you well, boy. As well as any soldier I ever fought.”

  Alex bowed his head. “Thank you for the compliment.”

  The soldier swallowed, taking a deep breath. “I fought for twenty years. I know what comes next. Thank you for honoring my final words.”

  Even with those words he paled, trying to be stoic before the death fast approaching.

  Alex gazed up at the judges. “I claim victory. The battle is over.”

  Lai Leng was trembling with fury. “How dare you make light of a death match! You will fight, slave, fight until one of you can fight no more, and if the fool falls, my property shall be returned to me!”

  The other judges frowned.

  Panheu coughed politely. “I believe what the esteemed and revered Lai Leng means to say is that only Alex must fight to the death against foes sworn to kill him. But he may show the grace and nobility of any opposing force who captures Yidushi soldiers. Mercy will be remembered by city fathers who might otherwise destroy entire towns in retribution, and parole may always be offered and freedom ransomed. Should the Ruidian choose to spare his opponent, that is well within his rights.” He grinned. “We want to encourage civility, not ruthlessness, in barbarian tribes, after all.”

  The fallen soldier immediately bowed low before the judges. “The soldier Li Zanshi formally recognizes the Ruidian who bested him. He fights as a warrior, not a killer. I tasted his blood on my fists, and I sensed no corruption in his blows.”

  Eyes suddenly desperate with hope caught Alex’s own. He held up a tiny leather pouch that had securely held the slip of jade he had been handed while they had fought. “One hundred gold ransom for my freedom, and no debt between us.”

  Alex smiled and took the fine leather pouch containing the jade slip, miming tying it on the underside of his uniform, where fingers noted several short strands of rope, no doubt for securing small pouches in place of pockets. Of course, he only pretended at tying it off, instead placing it in his divine treasure the moment it was out of public sight.

  “Ransom is paid and I hereby accept your parole. May there never be bad blood between us.” The solder chuckled at that as Alex helped him back to his feet, even going so far as to help the man hobble to the arena entrance, earning no shortage of odd stares sent his way.

  “That Ruidian actually beat Li Zanshi. He was a soldier for years!”

  “I hear Li’s already won enough matches to secure his status as an Outer Disciple. How the hell did he lose?”

  But not all the comments were touched by awe.

  “That damned pale-faced monkey must have played a trick on us. It’s the trickster god burrowing his way into the most sacred academy in Yidushi!” hissed one angry-faced youth, receiving nods of agreement from his glaring friends.

  It was all Alex could do not to flinch at those words, keeping his face carefully neutral as he strode back to the center of the sand-covered arena.

  He
did his best to keep his smile on the inside when he caught the alchemist’s furious glare, instead taking a deep breath, and gently slipping into a very light, very discreet cultivation trance as he had practiced with Hao Chan and Hao Yin both, all of them fully aware and able to respond to their environment in a heartbeat, while still gaining the benefits of limited cultivation. And so potent was his chosen discipline that the lactic acid buildup in his muscles almost immediately faded, so well-adapted his body was to handling such extremes as a normal part of survival.

  It would be minutes, not hours he didn’t have, to heal his broken nose, loose teeth, and other aches adrenaline kept at bay, but much to his relief, his muscles were quivering with energy during the minutes the judges and Panheu sat in quiet conference.

  The alchemist was looking increasingly furious while the pair of judges beside him glowered, yet said nothing, the silver-haired cultivator looking quite pleased when he turned around to nod approvingly at Alex, and no one seemed to find it at all strange that Elder Panheu was now sitting quite comfortably beside the judges.

  Perception check made!

  And Alex couldn’t quite hold back the smirk when he saw the handful of spirit pearls exchanging hands between academy elders.

  And, of course, the red-faced Lai Leng caught his smirk.

  The man snarled. “Two hundred gold! Two hundred gold for the next student who dares take on this pale-faced monkey!”

  Panheu rubbed his chin. “You would force him into a second death match just seconds after the first has ended? Truly, your ire knows no bounds, friend Lai Leng. One might even consider it personal.”

  The alchemist glared at the silver haired elder. “He is a soldier in war, his collar removed by your own insistence!” He flashed a cold smile. “And just like any soldier fighting for cause or country, he might face overwhelming odds. There is no such thing as fair in a soldier’s life, as you well know. Be glad school rules forbid forcing him to fight multiple opponents at once!”

  Panheu frowned. “There are no formal rules because previous precedent established no more than one morning and one evening fight for any cultivator or slave risking death, no more than three fights in any day for cultivators aspiring for rank.”

  The alchemist nodded. “Nor are there any precedents for releasing slaves under the pretext of death matches!” He chuckled coldly. “For the fool with the impossible dream, let him face impossible odds!”

  Panheu sighed. “So be it, so long as you don’t deny that the odds of his victory have just halved.” The cultivator then flashed two fingers and a fist.

  Lai Leng blanched. “Fine!” he hissed, before turning to the crowd. “Two hundred gold for whichever of you aspirants would dare to take on this pathetic slave!”

  Alex’s heart was pounding as he looked up into Elder Panheu’s bemused gaze, not knowing if he should feel horrified, betrayed, or just shocked. Here he was, struggling just to survive, and the only elder to show him a shred of kindness was using his fate to leverage massive betting concessions from a judge blinded by hate.

  Don’t be a fool, boy. Gratitude for that wily old fox is all you should feel. He’s the only reason you’re even alive right now.

  Alex froze, swallowing as he heard WiFu’s soft chuckle in the back of his head.

  And whether it was his own subconscious giving him counsel, or something else, the voice was right. Injured and battered as he was, he had his life, his freedom, and a jade slip worth one hundred gold.

  And even as Lai Leng roared for a student, any student, to come forward, Alex flashed the beaming elder now seated with the judges a bemused smile. Wily old fox indeed.

  And Alex didn’t waste a moment of his odd reprieve, embracing the agony coursing through him as he carefully directed his Qi to heal only those injuries most vital to his surviving yet another match in the bloody sands of the arena.

  A torn ligament, a cracked rib, a tiny vascular tear he worked desperately to repair before it resulted in fluid filling his brain. But torn flesh and lacerated skin he ignored, bent nose and broken teeth he did nothing to fix. Time enough to repair the rest, should he survive this death match.

  In the meantime, he would keep his trump cards close, revealing nothing of his gifts to a crowd full of people eager for his death.

  So that when Lai Leng finally found a burly student smashing meaty fists together, gazing eagerly Alex’s way, all the fool saw was a battered, exhausted student.

  Not the explosive wave of destruction waiting for him the moment the bell rang and the match begun.

  34

  Find Weakness skil check made! You sense the flaws in your opponent’s techniques! Find Weakness is now Rank 2!

  Tasting fire in the air and immediately sensing his peril, Alex charged forward with a roar the second the bell was rung while his opponent was still trying to exchange insults and take his measure, Alex immediately sensing the flaws in his stance and posture, knowing he was facing a jian swordsman more than a bare-hand specialist, and sensing as well the Fire Qi the kid was even now trying to bring to the fore.

  A half-step away from Bronze, the challenger’s muscles were already infused with vitality, the Fire Qi just a heartbeat away from flaring in his blood.

  No wonder he thought he had a chance.

  And perhaps he would have, if that flicker of flame had blossomed forth.

  Which Alex refused to allow as he immediately closed with his foe, the man’s soft brown eyes widening to his peril fast enough, but it was already too late, Alex’s knee bomb foiling the youth’s attempt to grapple and turn Alex’s momentum against him, instead gasping when the burst of pain and momentum sent him lurching off balance.

  He cried out as Alex’s right elbow immediately whipped around, shattering his eye socket with even more power behind the blow than he had delivered to the second fool he had fought, the mercy he had shown back then costing him a whipping and nearly sealing his doom as well.

  Alex was showing no such mercy now as a straight palm strike shattered the already off-balance cultivator’s nose, the novice Fire cultivator crying out and stumbling back as blood shot out his nostrils, one hand cupping his cracked eye ridge, the other blindly in front of his face as he desperately cried out, the vulnerable left side of his skull completely open, and Alex was already winding up with all the terrible power of one of Hao Chan’s whipping, deadly kicks. Kicks he had once poked gentle fun at for the heartbeats it took to wind up, before he was forced to concede the awesome power behind her whipping blows.

  She had pushed herself so hard to take her deadly arsenal and make it even deadlier, eventually striking at speeds that impressed even Alex, mastering kicks that could end the fight between them if she caught him off guard for just a heartbeat.

  Kicks she had pushed him to learn with the same intensity that he had taught her how to strike and grapple at close range, kicks he was putting to glorious, deadly use at that very moment, his opponent caught utterly off guard, and the rush of exultation Alex felt when he sensed bone exploding under his toughened heel, his foe spinning around to the ground with a shattered jaw and a neck that might or might not be broken, filled Alex with a dark exultation unlike anything he had experienced sparring with the girl who had come to mean so much to him.

  And his roar when he raised his fist as triumph flooded his soul was met by the crowd in turn.

  A blinking Alex was struck dumb, gazing into dozens of wide-eyed excited faces now calling his name, cheering him on, celebrating his victory as white robed cultivators quickly darted into the ring, panicked men desperately gathering the spasming aspirant now frothing at the mouth out of the ring as fast as they could.

  But not before a coldly-glaring Alex ripped open the boy’s robe and tore the small leather pouch secured underneath with an audible snap.

  “Prize of war!” he roared.

  The pair of healers flinched but said nothing as they raced the boy out on their bamboo stretcher. And far from being appalled, wh
en he raised his pouch before the crowd, their roars only increased.

  “Alex! Alex! Alex!”

  Heart racing with exultation and triumph, Alex gazed up into the furious countenance of Lai Leng himself. And his killing aura was that that of a Silver who wanted Alex dead more than anything else.

  His hate-filled glare reminded Alex of the monstrous spirit beasts he had fought just days, weeks, or perhaps it was years ago on his endless journey, radiating the poison-tainted aura of any dark alchemist.

  And Alex flashed his broken smile.

  “Bring it!” he roared, refusing to feel fear, gazing right at the furious alchemist who clenched his jaw and snarled.

  The crowd suddenly went deathly silent as Lai Leng himself lurched to his feet, earning shocked gazes from the pair of judges beside him.

  A frozen tableau that lasted for endless moments as Panheu quietly chuckled. And only then did Alex realize that so much of what he had heard that day had been said in quiet voices never meant to carry. “Don’t be a fool, Leng. A Silver facing down a powerless Ruidian? You’d be sneered at behind your back unless you killed every single student watching you now. The council itself would look askance, and you’re forgetting the most important point of it all.”

  The alchemist snapped his gaze around, glaring all his hate at the man who had manipulated him so masterfully. “And what is that, elder?”

  Panheu winked. “The twenty spirit pearls you still owe me.”

  The man blanched and snarled. “What of it? You know you’ll get it by crimson light, when we settle all our debts.”

  Panheu nodded. “And if you kill the boy below, you’ll have no chance to win it all back, will you? You’ll be paying me by the light of the setting sun, with the entire school looking on at the alchemist who killed the youth fighting desperately for his own freedom. And everyone, absolutely everyone, will know that you cut him down simply because you lost by betting against him.”