Sky Pride

Word got around Bamboo Medicine Hut quickly. By the time the tea party reached the martial practice courtyards, a sizable crowd had gathered. Hong huddled with Tian and gave him some last minute instructions.

“No matter what he says, don’t kill him, don’t cripple him, don’t destroy his cultivation, don’t castrate him. Don’t hit his face either. That’s important.” Hong was rattling through a list of “exchanging pointers” do’s and don’ts. Mostly “don’ts,” though “Let him show off a bit first” was a pretty mysterious “do.”

“Sure. This is a teaching match, right?” Tian asked. He had already categorized “Daoist Ho” as a child, despite the man being older than him. There was a lightness to Ho that made Tian think that way. Not a light body art, but a lack of substance.

“Yes, but no. He’s fighting for face. That’s what all this is about. The puffed up fool has doubtless spent his life lording over the vegetable farmers about how he is a true warrior. Now he gets a chance to prove it somewhere he won’t get seriously hurt if he loses. He even covered his ass by insisting on boxing instead of fighting with weapons. That way, when he loses, he can say it was only because he handicapped himself. You can’t let him win or you are throwing our face, though I don’t think there is any chance you would do that. Just let him show off a bit, try to make sure there are no hard feelings from his sect mates, then win decisively.”

“Of all the overcomplicated nonsense…” Tian muttered. He couldn’t stand to listen to any more advice. He walked out onto the flagstone square and clasped his fist in a martial salute. “Ancient Crane Mountain Tian Zihao. Let’s learn from each other, Daoist Ho.”

“Bamboo Medicine Hut Ho Jinpei. I shall test the might of the strongest sect in the Broad Sky Kingdom!”

Tian smiled politely, and gestured for Daoist Ho to begin.

“Prepare yourself!” The young man dropped back onto his right leg, left extended out in front of him. Sallow face set in a ferocious frown over the green and brown of his robes. Ho’s fists wheeled through the air, gathering in a vaguely pincer shape next to his head. “Twin Star Fists, First Alignment- Hammerfall!”

Tian bit back a swear. He could set out a table and brew a fresh pot of tea while he waited for this so-called warrior to do whatever it was that he was doing instead of sparring. He’d have time for snacks.

The young man launched off his back leg, thrusting forward with both fists. Tian took a slight step to one side. The fists went wide.

It was the single most idiotic thing Tian had ever seen on a sparring field. The attack took seconds to launch and wouldn’t have done much if it hit. Vital energy was completely scattered. No unification of breath and strength. Tempo was a non-factor. No sense of distance. Worse, the stupid attack over-extended, leaving the young man trapped and helpless to respond to any counter attacks.

How, exactly, was he supposed to let this go on? Was there some way to do this without looking like he was bullying the boy?

“Nice footwork. But can you dodge this? Twin Star Fists, Second Alignment, Star of Calamity!” Ho roared.

Tian slowly lowered his hands and clasped them behind his back. A slight step and subtle twist let him avoid another comic lunge.

“Fast feet won’t-” Tian stopped listening. He avoided the attacks with utter ease. It wasn’t a case of reading the young man’s elemental energy. Ho’s control over his energy was too incompetent to make following the flow useful. The young man was just slow. And sloppy. And seemed to have never sparred before in his life. Worst of all, he really seemed to think he was doing something.

Could this really be considered boxing, even in a peaceful sect?

Tian spared a glance for the still gathering crowd. The disciples from Bamboo Medicine Hut seemed awed, and cheered their sectmate on. Lin seemed determined to pretend she was reading a book rather than watching the scene. Brother Wang and Sister Su looked stoic on the surface, but Tian could read the contempt in their eyes. Sister Su’s expression was rapidly shading towards open disgust. Sister Hong already looked faintly disgusted, and, oddly, embarrassed.

Actually, he found her embarrassment completely reasonable. He was embarrassed just standing here. His fury was being choked by the shame of taking this imbecile's words to heart for even one second. But more than shame or the insult Ho gave him, was a new and rapidly growing fury that anyone could consider this actual training!

“Pincer Strike! Charging-”

Tian raised his hand and stopped the young man. “Fellow Daoist Ho, why do you insist on shaming us both with this display?!”

He had tried to keep his voice mild. He really had. Judging by the deathly silence, he failed.

“If your skills-”

“My skills, Daoist Ho, are not the problem. If you want to spar, spar. If you want to put on an exhibition, tell me and I will help you. But this… mockery…” Tian struggled to put into words what he was feeling. “This humiliation of training to not get beaten to death, is fucking obscene!”

He blew out a shuddering breath, clawing back some of his composure. This trash wouldn’t last an hour in the Wastes. Wouldn’t last an hour in West Town Temple for that matter. He felt dirty. Tian didn’t want to imagine what his brothers would say if they saw him playing along with this fool.

Brother Fu would be disappointed by his disgraceful display. He should treat the child like a child. Taking no offense from his stupid words and stupid behavior. Brother Fu had shown Tian immense patience. Maybe he could offer a bare smidge of that to this… Daoist. He glanced back at Ho, who looked like he had been slapped.

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“Daoist Ho, I am going to assume the best and treat you as ignorant. I will attack you now. I am going to pull my hits. I’m even going to tell you what art I’m using. It’s Thunderous Palms, by the way, a soft yin-yang art that uses exclusively palm strikes. I won’t use a light body art or anything else. I won’t even knock you out. This will finally be an actual exchange of pointers. And, Daoist Ho? Here is the first one. I won’t strike your head, but you are still going to want to tighten up.”

Tian flew forwards, his blue robe fluttering behind him. Ho raised his hands in front of him. It was possible that it was some sort of guard stance. Tian didn’t even need to strike a hand aside to plant a palm directly over Ho’s heart. “Dead.”

He shifted to the right and slapped a kidney. “Crippled.” He kept moving, striking the base of the spine. “Parilyzed.”

Four more slaps landed sharply across Ho’s back before had even started turning to face Tian. “Dead, dead, dead, dead.” Tian kept circling and slapping.

“Dead.”

“Crippled.”

“Dead.”

“Gelded.”

“Dead.”

“Cultivation destroyed.”

“Dead.”

“Mutilated, crippled, eventually dead.”

“Dead.”

Tian was generous and gifted Ho fifty palms. The once-prideful man was staggering and swaying by the end, barely able to keep on his feet. Tian stepped back and cupped his fist. “Let’s call it there, Daoist Ho. This has been… educational.”

“My thanks.” Ho’s voice was slurred, and his eyes seemed to be having trouble focusing. He still managed to cup his fist and approximate a bow. Tian was sure he hadn’t put enough strength in any of the blows to do real damage, but maybe he was wrong. The crowd looked shocked.

Had none of them ever really fought? Was that even possible? Some of them must have fought with their lives on the line. It’s not like heretics didn’t exist in the kingdom, and they were sitting on a fortune in herbs and medicine. Someone would have relieved them of their wealth by now if they didn’t have some way to defend themselves.

“Is there anyone, at any level, who wishes to actually spar?” Tian asked the crowd. “Anyone below the Heavenly Person level is welcome.”

There was silence. Tian managed to feel worse. It was disgusting what the Bamboo Medicine Hut was teaching as “martial arts,” but now he just felt like a bully.

“Anyone? Does anyone have an art you want to test? A skill you want to hone? Is there anyone who just wants to measure themselves, so they don’t make a fatal mistake in the future?”

He was trained by the best in the kingdom, equipped with powerful arts, and had undergone the trial of the Six Turns Cavern. He had fought battles of life and death since he woke in the garbage. He had fought heretics and gu and demons. He had fought mercenaries who valued money over their lives. Of course a bunch of doctors and farmers weren’t going to be his match.

There was silence. Tian slowly closed his eyes. He had humiliated them. He hadn’t wanted to, but he did. All because he wouldn’t pretend, and couldn’t tolerate a thirty year old child.

He should at least show them what actual sparring looked like. Just so they got the idea. They needed to understand. He looked over at the pavilion where Elder Feng was having her discussion with the Sectmaster of The Bamboo Medicine Hut. It was several hundred yards away, but he had a certain suspicion. He cupped his hands and bowed towards them. “Elder Feng, this junior asks permission to invite Sister Hong to put on an exhibition with him.”

“Denied.” There was a sudden rush of air and Elder Feng appeared. “You and Hong shall both test yourselves against me. Come, both of you!”

Tian had his dart out and moving before the sound of her command finished echoing off the buildings. There was a sharp crack and he could feel Hong rushing in from the side, spear leveled.

His body twisted, elbow catching the rope and swinging the dart at the Elder’s head in a whistling blur. While it was in the air he switched to Light Body, Heavy Hands and closed distance with explosive speed. His heel stomped down to crush her instep as he returned his weight to normal.

The Elder wasn’t there by the time his attack arrived. She drifted back just enough to make him miss, then retaliated with a fist that had Tian ducking and sliding to the side. Hong shot into the gap, thrusting fast at the elder’s face before shifting to flank her target.

Tian recovered his dart and whipped it around aiming at Elder Feng’s knee. Elder Feng slipped away again, this time snagging Hong’s spear and sending a crushing kick towards her ribs. Hong blocked the kick with a kick of her own, and the sharp crack of their shins meeting had the crowd wincing.

Tian flicked the rope upwards. Snake Head Vine Body made the soft rope rigid as he stabbed at his senior’s belly. Elder Feng hopped backward and kicked the head of the dart back towards Tian at speed. It didn’t go through his neck. There were at least two hair-widths between the dart and his jugular. Tian snarled and yanked the dart back around as Hong came in like a forest fire. The spear struck faster and faster, the red tassel twisting and flying as the speartip drilled in high and low.

Fire feeds on wood. Tian grinned like a skeleton and shifted tactics. Where Hong struck swiftly and directly, he was more insidious. The rope dart was always in motion, nipping in to snag a wrist or ankle. The Elder dodged of course, but that was fine with Tian. He kept advancing. The relentless pressure of a creeping vine, choking a tree before the fire swept it up.

Hong didn’t need any words to understand his plan. She adapted to his changing pace. Rather than wasting any attacks trying to pin down Elder Feng, she made every attack fatal. Head, heart, dantian. Always pressing. Always moving forward.

Elder Feng didn’t just stand around and let herself be passively beaten. If Tian and Hong were an encompassing vine and raging fire, she was the winter wind. She dove into the weapon’s range, using the smallest possible movements to evade or guide the weapons past her. Then punishing any opening with a harsh kick or punch. She seemed to know every attack before it was made, yet she remained unreadable to Tian’s senses.

He really wanted to know how she was managing that. Saying “She’s a Heavenly Person” wasn’t a satisfying answer.

Tian felt Elder Feng shift, using Tian as a shield against Hong. Winning the spar was obviously impossible, but… he owed something to Bamboo Medicine Hut for humiliating them. Not a very big something, but they should at least see what a spar was. It might save their lives.

The rope dart snapped around, the heavy head coming parallel to the ground at exactly temple height on the Elder. The Elder snorted and slapped the dart down hard enough to wedge it in the flagstones. Tian rushed in, dropping the rope and swinging his palms. He ate a solid kick to the gut for his pains, folding him.

He stayed folded, wrapping himself around the leg and slapping at the knee. Hong used the moment and stabbed at Elder Feng.

“Well done, both of you.” Elder Feng caught the spearpoint between thumb and forefinger. “Very well done. I think you have shown what you wanted to.”

Tian scraped himself off the Elder’s leg. She had been very careful. Nothing was broken. Bruised, yes, but not broken. A lesson there, perhaps. So many lessons flying around, it was hard to pick one to actually learn from.

“Yes, Elder.” He looked over the stunned crowd. He could see Daoist Shu in the middle of the crowd. He couldn’t tell what expression she was making. “I just hope it was enough.”