Sky Pride

Vol. 5 Chapter 1- King of a Short Hill



Vol. 5 Chapter 1- King of a Short Hill



A slim white hand gently guided a heavy fist off to one side, fouling the axe blow chasing behind it. The axe wielder’s situation was made even worse when a heavy, if petite, foot smacked into their calf. The sudden loss of support saw the axe man falling forward, bringing the point of his chin into a rising palm, twisting his head hard to the left and rattling his brain. The axe man collapsed onto the dirt, eyes spinning and trying to find where he was between earth and sky.


“Halt! Winner, Tian Zihao!”


“Thank you for letting me win, Brother.” Tian bowed politely to the bigger man, before offering him a hand up.


“I should be thanking you for taking it easy on me. I over-extended.” The axe man pulled himself together after a moment, rising and dusting himself off with a few quick flicks of his hand.


“You did, but the bigger problem, if you will forgive my saying so, was you didn’t use your size to its full advantage. Just get a big shield. You can bash people with it, and it makes anyone coming at you unarmed rethink their lives.”


The two bowed to the referee, bowed to the crowd, then bowed to each other. They walked off the practice square, not minding the cheering. The crowds weren’t that big, after all.


“I do usually use a shield.” The big man looked torn between laughter and tears. “But I saw what you did to the last two who came at you with a shield and figured I would set you up with the jab, grapple, then finish you with the axe.”


“Good tactic!” Tian approved wholeheartedly. “But you still aren’t using your size to its full advantage. With the weight difference, who cares about unbalancing me? Just grab ahold of my hand or sleeve. Hook with your axe. Doesn’t matter what you do, so long as you catch part of me. Then you control the range and can hit me while I struggle to hit you. So long as you move with absolute speed and violence, you would win most fights.”


The big man’s mouth twitched. He had caught the qualifiers, but didn’t argue it.


“Final Match of the Semi-Final Round- Hong Liren and Zhang Shuang, come forth!”


“Since you have said so much, you must have a counter strategy.”


“Yes. I would break your wrist, or use your arm as leverage to take control of your body, or if it was a true battlefield, I would use Thunderous Palms to destroy the nerves and tendons in your hand, crippling you and using the collapse of your hand as a window to close distance.”


“I never thought my Hundred Hewing Blows technique was cute before, but I’m rethinking that now.” The bigger man laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe I should study those Dragon Subduing Palms.”


“Couldn’t hurt, hard to beat an empty hand as a backup- oh Liren won already? I didn’t hear the match starting.”


“Tsk! It seems Sister Zhang couldn’t withstand a single move. Can’t say I blame her, though. I didn’t see that spear even twitch before it arrived at her throat.”


“She practices that explosive lunge a thousand times a day, most days. She says it is the purest essence of the spear.”


The big man nodded fervently. “Won’t hear me arguing with her. Good luck on your bout with her.”


“Oh, we aren’t going to fight. No point.”


“Eh?”


“Yeah. It’s a bit like shadow boxing, really.”


“Sorry, Brother Tian, I don’t follow.”


“We know each other’s moves so well that the few times we did spar properly in the last year, we fought to a draw. She would win today as my weapon is broken, but it would be a meaningless fight.” Tian laughed. “Our record in serious matches is two to one, in my favor. Not updated since we were fourteen.”


“Tian Zihao, Hong Liren, come forth!”


The two walked out onto the practice field and bowed towards the Martial Uncle overseeing the bouts. It was an open secret that the bouts were being supervised by essentially all the elders still in the sect, and quite possibly the Sect Master too. There had been quite a few martial aunts and uncles wandering the mountain, taking careful notes and scrutinizing their juniors. Everybody knew something was up, and this tournament was part of it. They just didn’t know what was up, or why a special “Century or Younger” tournament was organized for everyone in the Earthly Realm.


“You two are our finalists in the Level Eight grouping. Do you wish to compete, or are you willing to share the reward? If you share it, the free weapon will become, instead, a heavy discount on two weapons.”


Tian and Liren chorused. “Share the reward, thank you, Martial Uncle.” Then looked at each other, because they hadn't planned on saying it together.


The referee snorted and, with an amused smile, waved them back into the crowd. The last bouts were wrapping up. The lower level competitions took longer, but there were fewer fighters. The Level One group didn’t have any fighters in it, while the one Level Two was stuck fighting the one Level Three. Tian couldn’t believe how small they looked. Refusing to believe that when he had been their age, he was even smaller. On the other hand, Level Nine made up the majority of the Earthly Realm disciples, so it was taking a little while.


“I don’t think I will ever get used to spectators looking down on me from flying boats. And swords. And bamboo rafts. I think I heard about someone having a flying cloud, but I haven’t seen it yet.”


That was life in the Monastery- immortal mists wreathed the sky-piercing peak, spiritual cranes gliding through the endless blue heavens, while brilliant blossoms in butterfly white or peony pink or saffron yellow burst from trees and grasses, the ordinary transformed into something spectacular by the dense qi. It was amazing how quickly it all became invisible. Until something snuck up on you, and your brain, using its calmest voice, reminded you that most places didn’t have giant stone tubs filled with qi-dense water whose temperature you could control by raising or lowering a pair of gems on a string. Lower the carnelian for hotter, the turquoise for colder, and if you just needed to top up the water level, there was a cistern on the roof that was fed by pipes running to the streams that came down from the snowpacks miles above you.


A long way from washing in the stream itself. An even longer way from not washing at all. There was free soap, and it was nice soap too. There were soap making missions for the outer court disciples, just to make sure the soap never ran out. It was part of the very first block of “welfare missions” that the Elders released. Tian shook his head and tried to focus on the bouts.


It was a bit uncomfortable to watch. His seniors were often five times his age. In his memory, they were heroes of impossible strength and grandeur. They were still heroes, still with a dignity and grandeur that came from two mortal lifetimes of living and fighting for honorable causes. But they were all people he could beat.


The strong men and women dashed over the sands of the practice squares, sabers chopping, swords thrusting, heavy staves and maces and axes, bows and halberds, all moving to take a life. Hard external martial arts, soft internal arts, light body arts, perception arts, even more esoteric skills that imbued a blade with crackles of lightning or stretched a spear like a reaching tree branch, or let one boxer land feather light on the tip of his opponent’s sword and kick the swordsman in the face so hard the gallant swordsman flew back three yards. Exquisitely polished arts, and yet Tian was entirely sure he would win.


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Tian was amused to see Brother Wang dropping out at the quarter final round. Well, not ‘dropping out’ exactly, he very convincingly lost to a heroic young man with a halberd. It should be persuasive, Brother Wang was working hard to sell each step of his retreat as a bitter setback, and the eventual gap he left wasn’t an error on his part, simply the superior skill of his opponent.


“I think he stuck in for this long because Sis’ Su bullied him into making a decent showing” Tian muttered.


“Nah, this has Sister Mei’s stamp on it. I bet you she pressed up against his chest, batted her big eyes at him and told him she was looking forward to watching his manly display. Did you see him in the first couple of rounds?” Liren sounded equal parts cynical and amused.


“Knocked ‘em straight out of the ring with a couple of hammer blows, yeah.” Tian nodded.


“Yep. I reckon I spotted the exact moment he remembered his low key, overlooked, life strategy. It was when the sun broke through the clouds and lit his opponent like the heavens were giving them their personal approval.”


Tian chuckled. “Did you see Sis’ Su?”


“Ring Three.”


Tian looked over. Sis’ Su’s combat strategy was twofold. Stab someone with darts, and if they tried to rush her, seed the ground with caltrops. That was it. It had, up to this point, been enough. She was matched against a female cultivator wielding an iron staff in what should have been an easy matchup.


Su began launching her darts with her right hand and scattered caltrops in a field in front of her with her left. The woman spun her iron staff so fast it formed a roaring blur in front of her, shattering the darts as she rushed forward. The density of the caltrop field increased quickly, even as the stream of darts kept up their steady pace. Tian’s eyes shot wide open when he saw the staff wielding cultivator run right over the caltrops without even slowing down. There was an explosion, and then a martial uncle was standing on the field, separating the women.


“Sis’?”


“Sister Murong used a light body art and, if I know her, iron soled shoes, to run directly over the caltrops, and accelerated at the last instant to close distance and add power to her lunge. I don’t know how, but the caltrops under her feet exploded just as she was swinging her staff, and you can see the Martial Uncle holding that red stone dart in the air. I’m going to say that the Wang Clan’s device making business has a few products not put on the market just yet.”


“So Sis’ Su won?” Tian asked.


“Looks like a draw. Sister Murong’s staff was already swinging forward when the explosion went off, and would have made a fatal wound on contact. On the other hand, she would have been dead when it did, so hard to call it her win.”


“I’m a little surprised Sis’ Su didn’t use that array flag thing she used in the past.”


Liren shook her head. “I asked her about that once. It’s a fantastic art for clearing out blocks of enemies or a fortified location, but it’s not good at hitting fast moving solitary targets. You can only aim it once, if you follow me, it doesn’t follow the target if they move.”


Tian nodded and kept looking around the field. Sister Lin had acquitted herself well, but like Brother Wang, was out at the quarterfinals. She was a competent fighter with her bow, but she didn’t love battle the way those who made it to the semifinals did. Sister Lin was a bit of an enigma to Tian. She seemed the sort of person who should be quite ruthless, but he couldn’t imagine her trading torn flesh for a broken bone, or a broken bone to take a life. Yet there was something about her that Starsieve thought was worth saving.


The winner of the Level Nine competition was a man and woman Tian didn’t know. Experts from some other town. He looked inquisitively over at Liren, but she just shook her head. The Martial Uncle overseeing things gave a cough that sounded in everyone’s ear.


“We now have a male and female champion from every level of the Earthly Realm. Now we move into the Wallbreaker Rounds. Our champions can challenge one level above themselves. If they succeed in their challenge, rich rewards await. Secret rewards, the kind of thing that results in a fateful encounter and can change destiny. But only if you are strong enough to seize that chance!”


Tian glanced at Liren again.


“I don’t know why you keep glancing over. You know perfectly damn well we are going to fight for the top spot.”


“Discretion? Subtlety?”


“Brother Tian, your idea of subtlety is asking someone you just slapped the life half out of, and I’m quoting here, ‘Have you considered becoming a eunuch? Because the last one I met hit harder than you, so it’s worth a try.’”


Tian looked very dignified. “I spoke not a word of lie. Censor Hanshen would have butchered that junior brother at a similar level of cultivation.”


“Yeah, but subtle?”


“Err, Senior Brother Tian, Senior Sister Hong?” A tentative voice asked from the side. Tian looked over at the juniors standing awkwardly to the side. The level seven champions, he recalled. He really should know them, but didn’t.


“Yes? Are you challenging us?”


“Well. We would benefit from the spar, we figured.”


“Good attitude!” Liren nodded strongly.


The bout lasted two minutes, two of those hundred and twenty seconds being taken up with bowing, and the other hundred and eighteen being spent showing the juniors just where they were going wrong.


The young man Tian was sparring against favored the three foot sword, straight and direct, yet filled with grace and nobility. In theory, anyway.


“Really should pair the sword with a shield.” Tian grunted. He was a big believer in shields, but the swordsmen always seemed so reluctant to use them. The junior’s sword came in a wave of thrusts and quick footwork. Blue robes fluttered across the martial square, fine sand flying in small waves as light feet dashed back and forth. Tian met speed with stillness, letting the sword thrusts slide past him with a turn of his head or a shift of his body. He made no move to attack.


The junior lost patience. He extended into a lunge, and when Tian tilted his head to let the blade slide past his neck, the junior tried to convert it into an awkward downward cut. The instant he tried, he found his wrist trapped by Tian’s hand, and Tian’s foot slammed once into his kidney, once into his lung, and a third time directly into his gut. Removing the sword from the suddenly weak hand was almost an afterthought, a way to keep the junior from hurting himself as he folded onto the dirt.


Liren was a bit more courteous, meeting the twin hatchets of her opponent with a probing exchange of thrusts. The woman had some notion of hooking the shaft and controlling the spear to create an opportunity to close the range, but quickly learned that short range was not the advantage she thought it was. Liren combined hard strikes from elbow and feet as she spun the spear like a staff, grasping it behind the head and turning the long weapon into a short one. It wasn’t long before her opponent also sprawled in the dirt.


The bout with their seniors didn’t have much more drama. The two were veterans of the battlefield, both wielding sabers, both quick, both decisive, both defeated in ten moves. Superior vital energy quantity and experience wasn’t enough to bridge the gap. Tian and Liren’s superbly refined bodies and the quality of their senses were simply unmatched. Tian and Hong both read the rushing elemental flow of what their seniors were about to do, then did something about it.


Tian Zihao and Hong Liren were hailed as the strongest in the Earthly Realm below a hundred years old, showered with cheers, and given far too many congratulatory pats on the back. There were whispered promises of future meetings to explain just what their luxurious reward was to be. Little Treasure cheered wildly from the sidelines, waving his tiny fists. Glory, glory, glory, for all it was worth.


Tian barely cared. He competed because he was expected to, and he was fed up with just how much he was dragging his feet getting a replacement for his ruined rope dart. A free weapon, or a heavy discount on one, was motivation enough to claim the title of ‘The Strongest.’


The strongest of the juniors of a sect he no longer wanted to be in. One that was a bare fraction of the size it had been a year ago, filled with people who were better than many, kinder than most, and who he knew he loved. It was just, what should he do when love isn’t enough?


He tried to look modest and retiring as he bowed towards the cheering crowd. He was thankful, he really was, and he would take every advantage he could get. He wasn’t miserable. He didn’t hate anyone on this side of the sect-locking ward. But right now, were he able to choose between being trapped on Ancient Crane Mountain and wandering the rivers and lakes as a loose cultivator in the middle of a cataclysm, he’d scrub up his begging bowl, make sure his shoes were in good shape, and get to wandering.


He glanced over at Liren again. She had no problem waving at the crowd. She looked like she was really enjoying the cheers too. He shook away the moodiness. He wanted off the mountain and out of the sect, but there were people worth staying for. He just had to remember that.


Besides, one of the lessons of the junk yard was that there were treasures everywhere, if you looked at things the right way. Ancient Crane Mountain was the focus of the fate and qi of the whole Broadsky Kingdom. It was, he heard whispered, a literal treasure-mountain, with good things just waiting for the fated and the bold. A true nurturing ground for immortal cranes. What better place was there for him to gather his strength, and leap to the Heavenly Realm?



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