Between Beast And Buddha: A Drunken Monkey's Journey to Immortality B1 Chapter 19

"Daoist Scouring dicine."

The smile on Snowclad Heart's face was insufferable. Daoist Scouring dicine's fingers itched to wipe it away. It was re minutes away now. All the man had to do, was say the words.

Li Hou would be fine. This exact outco was why he'd only given him a single healing pill and two qi restoratives. Even his mortal constitution could still take enough dicinal energy to stabilize him. He pulped a pill with his own fingers, before stuffing it into the unconscious animal's mouth. He worked its jaw with his hands, watching for choking. It was terrible practice to feed the unconscious solids, but the pulped pill only barely rited the word. Li Hou would be awake soon enough, though he wouldn't be lifting anything over his head for a week at least.

The damage young Yang Wei had inflicted was substantial. A broken collarbone, surrounded by a rapidly blooming bruise, visible even beneath the blood-matted fur. An indication of internal lacerations, inflicted by the path the jagged edges of Li Hou's collarbone had taken through his flesh. He would prefer to set the injury properly, lest he need to rebreak the bone later. Daoist Scouring dicine doubted his junior would wait that long. Still, the pill he'd fed Li Hou was no simple thing. Yet another small treasure he had no way of replacing without an inco. Another few months of this and he might find himself needing to aid his dicines with the rudintary techniques of a mortal doctor. Setting bones and balancing humors. How pathetic.

"A pity. The irritating gadfly continued. "For a mont there, your pet almost looked like it might put a scratch on Disciple Yang Wei. It's a remarkable achievent you know, training an ape to speak. I'm sure the emperor would appreciate having a novelty like him to amuse his court. An eloquent minister to lead his pack of trained monkeys."

What could he say, that would seal the matter? It was tradition among daoists, that the stronger ought not suppress their juniors. For all that they were both foundation establishnt cultivators, he was half a realm and half a century the man's senior. Yet, no two n beneath the heavens were truly equals. If that rule was absolute, daoists would not have such a reputation for reducing teahouses to splinters. Still, considering what he intended to do, Daoist Snowclad Heart needed to be the one to speak the words.

He rose to face the other man, then leaned in close, feigning an intimacy that fooled no one.

"Tell , is there a single stone in your foundation that Elder Lu did not lay for you? You speak so much of pets that one might think the word a demon festering in your heart."

Unconcealed fury flashed across his junior's face, but there was an edge of amused satisfaction to it. He'd been set on having the matter out as well. Good.

"I co to you with good faith and open hands, and you insult to my face? I have tolerated your slanderous tongue long enough."

The man said more, but Daoist Scouring dicine was past paying attention. He flared his qi in a particular pattern he hadn't needed to use for years. Daoist Enduring Oath was on his feet in a mont, rushing toward the field.

"You are a coward who does not respect the seniors who shelter you. You treat the juniors who seek your teaching as tools to be discarded at your convenience. You sha the Azure Mountain every ti you open your mouth. If you are a man and daoist at all, you will take up arms and answer for your words." Daoist Snowclad Heart finished loudly, proclaiming his challenge for all to hear.

Daoist Enduring Oath arrived with a rush of hot wind, the massive man surprisingly light on his feet. Doubly surprising, if one knew how much he truly weighed.

"Don't let his shoulder creep closer to the neck, keep it held at full extension until the pill sets his break. You can sit him up once he wakes, but he's not to move his arms with his own power until I treat him properly."

"Are you-" Daoist Snowclad Heart sputtered.

"I accept your challenge." Daoist Scouring dicine cut him off. "Here and now. There are no further words that need to pass between us."

Daoist Scouring dicine watched as his martial brother carried his disciple away, cradling the small monkey like a child. A distant part of him noted that the pair of them seed to be doing that a lot lately. It was a convenient way to transport his small form.

Anger roiled in his chest, setting his dantian ablaze. Its contents flickered and danced, the protean nature of his cultivation thod allowing the flash of strong emotion to pull his qi toward the nature of fire. He exhaled, enjoying the unnatural warmth of his breath. The way it fogged slightly in the brisk autumn air. He was not worried about Li Hou. The monkey would be fine. He would fix the monkey's body, and its mind would grow stronger for the experience. No, this fury was for the sect. Even now, after his disciple's first proper loss, they could not leave him alone. He'd provoked this latest escalation. But choosing this mont? That was entirely the fault of the man before him. Yet another expression of the rot that had crept into his ho.

Daoist Scouring dicine had turned over this fight in his head a thousand tis. He'd considered showing a asure of rcy. Letting this duel be a re show of strength.

No. Daoist Snowclad Heart would not walk away from this duel. He would be carried. Li Xun reached into the bag at his side, his arm vanishing up to the elbow before he grasped what he needed. A small paper sachet, ensorcelled against fla. Heavy, for its size. Within sat a dull grey powder, flecked with rust and verdigris.

He moved it to an inner pocket. It would be difficult accessing his spatial pouch after he took the pill.

"We should get back, shouldn't we?" One disciple asked the crowd at large.

There was no referee this ti. Only an elder would be powerful enough to safely break up a fight between two daoists, and it went without saying there were none both n would trust to do so. An ancestor could have risen from the depths of the mountain. But if the ancestors were watching, things would never have co to this.

The disciples had retreated back into the wide circle they'd occupied before. They were standing far too close, but they would realize that quickly enough.

"Begin at your leisure." He told Daoist Snowclad Heart. He spread his arms, showing his junior they were empty. He'd borne weapons to battle before. Left whole fields devoid of life, blasted and poisoned. Little of that dark work had ever attached itself to his na. He'd not reveled in doing what was necessary, and allowed the acclaim for so many of those victories to accrue to his more honorable brothers and seniors.

To his credit, Daoist Snowclad Heart did not hesitate. His sword leapt into the air as his fan snapped open. Disciples shivered as the season shifted in a mont, winter arriving in earnest.

His foe's power was not an ugly thing. All qi had to it a nature. A song or scent, wisps of a story or destiny. His foe's was stark and clean, distant and longing.

Daoist Scouring dicine cycled his own qi, giving himself more fully to the fla. He'd always believed a true alchemist needed to command every elent, and his Quicksilver Vessel thod reflected that. The unorthodox way he'd developed his middle dantian allowed him to use it as an internal cauldron, refining the elents as he required them. Unfortunately, that unparalleled flexibility had greatly complicated every step of his advancent.

He opened with a smokescreen. He withdrew a second powder from his satchel, ash of the Two-Shadowed Yew. A subtle spell of wood and fire gave it a weight that transcended weight. Light enough to spread as air, yet heavy enough to resist the wind.

Disciples bleated in dismay, as their view was interrupted.

"Such petty tricks?"

Daoist Snowclad Heart swung the fan at his side, and desolation followed.

It was not a swift wind. It moved no faster than a mortal could run. The disciples who had chosen to stand behind Daoist Snowclad Heart could track its progression with their eyes, watch as frost crept up stalks of grass and dewy leaves drooped beneath spreading ice.

Where it t ash, the ash was driven back. Swept away cleanly, like dust washed from the street.

Daoist Scouring dicine had not been blessed with the instincts of a warrior. He had not Guarding Thunder's keen eye for weakness, or Enduring Oath's unbreakable resolve. What he had, was flexibility. But all the flexibility in the world was useless if he sought to poison steel or quench a bonfire with new growth.

Having ten thousand options was the foundation for a formidable offense. But it offered little in the way of protection, unless one already knew what their foe would do.

From this truth, his fighting style had been born.

If a daoist bore a fan or flywhisk, it did not take a genius to predict what they would do when their opponent cast out smoke before them.

Even if the core formation treasure in their hands was a weapon far more suitable to marshalling the chill of winter, than commanding storm winds.

Daoist Scouring dicine flared fire within his dantian, crouched low to let the worst of the wind pass above him. Steam rose from his exposed skin, like mist in the morning sun. Water gathered around his feet, freezing anew in monts as the cutting wind forced him a step back. Daoist Snowclad Heart's swing wrought a hundred chi of deep winter. All around him trees were encased in tombs of ice, so beautiful one could forget they were already dead. His qi by contrast had only returned a single pace of space to early autumn, rendered into a swampy morass.

But how much more power, had his junior spent?

Swordlight flashed out, but Daoist Scouring dicine was already rolling. The brilliant shadow of his foe's blade left deep gouges in the ice around him, even as the fire within him cooled to earth, then began to birth tal.

The next strike, he caught on an upturned palm. It shattered upon skin as unyielding as steel. If his dantian was a cauldron, a vessel for refinent and creation, his Five-Elent Body was an instrunt. A tool to transform that elental qi into martial might.

The last remnants of the wind washed over the watching disciples, a great wave of frozen darkness.

"So cold!" One gasped, falling to his knees.

"Get back!" Another shouted, pulling a prone fellow along by his underarms.

Half a dozen daoists flared their own qi, shielding the disciples near them from the guttering remnants of the wave.

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The two combatants stalked forward, circling each other as they closed. The petty concerns of the crowd were beneath this mont.

"Surely even an alchemist has so form of attack available to them?" Daoist Snowclad Heart asked. "Or do you hope that I will tire myself, like so overeager child? Is your road to victory so narrow?"

"Is that what you call that? An attack?"

Daoist Snowclad Heart swept Elder Lu's fan once more. This ti, the wind returned to him. It struck Daoist Scouring dicine from behind, sending him staggering forward. The cold bit into him, and he felt the tal of his defense beco brittle.

"Ten thousand strikes fells the oldest of trees." Daoist Snowclad Heart intoned. "A winter unending buries the mightiest of beasts."

The cold deepened.

His flying sword gently descended, the steel kissing his empty hand with a lover's tenderness.

"Take this seriously, senior. Or drown, in frost and steel."

Daoist Scouring dicine said nothing.

The two n t with a ringing of steel like a cavalry charge, half a dozen blows exchanged in the space of monts. A rising palm t a descending blade, drawing a thin line of cinnabar blood. Swordlight was the hollow shadow of the blade's passing. The true thing was more terrible by far, and Daoist Snowclad Heart's sword could easily cut a skin of re steel.

But Scouring dicine was faster. His leg struck like a viper, a steel slipper taking his foe in the stomach. Daoist Snowclad Heart flew back. A thin rivulet of blood escaped his mouth, staining the hem of his stark white robe with crimson sha.

Daoist Scouring dicine winced, already swallowing a weak healing pill. A single direct block had cut his hand to the bone.

"Enough of this farce." Daoist Snowclad Heart shouted.

*"Fallow, Lies the Earth"*

Icy winds surged, and Daoist Snowclad Heart leapt skyward. Daoist Scouring dicine's eyes widened as he descended like a bird of prey. True flight was not the domain of re foundation establishnt cultivators.

tal? Or fire? No. He didn't have ti for three elental transitions. tal would have to endure.

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Orange-crest awoke to a burning sensation.

His shoulder was so hot, like a cauldron in use! He rembered the last monts of the battle. Oh. It was broken. Smashed like rotten wood, by Yang Wei's dirty-clever trick.

He'd lost, hadn't he? He wasn't sad. He'd lost a lot, on the mountain. He'd just thought it would be different, now that he was a cultivator monkey. That now, he would get to win.

Then he slled burning fur.

"Aghk!" Orange-crest hiss-gurgled. He flailed, then deeply regretted the motion. White-hot pain, far hotter than re fire, rampaged through his shattered shoulder.

"Li Hou, stay still." Daoist Enduring Oath's voice was tense, focused. The monkey had never heard the big man so concerned. "I'll release your shoulder, but you can't move."

The massive hand unclamped from his shoulder, and one source of burning disappeared.

"I apologize. Your master and his opponent are not restraining themselves."

Orange-crest shivered as a wave of freezing air passed over him, only to dissipate in a mont. Daoist Enduring Oath's skin looked even more like stone than usual, as he radiated heat like a bonfire. Half a dozen disciples pressed in close, struggling to avoid stepping on the prone monkey as they jostled for position.

"What?" Orange-crest asked dumbly. Even for n, this was weird.

"Sit up." A new voice commanded. It took orange-crest a mont to place it.

"Watch." Yang Wei commanded. "You're promising enough you might actually learn sothing from it."

Orange-crest was too tired to argue. He let the human who had broken his shoulder gently prop him up against a frozen tree stump. Had the seasons changed while he slept? Nothing made sense right now.

Then he saw the battle, and the world made even less sense.

His brother was fighting the stupid-an one from the Fathomless Well. And his foe was dancing upon the winter wind like the Monkey King, harrying Daoist Scouring dicine with a sword that froze the very air around it. His brother was slowing, taking blow after blow. His robes were stained with countless thin lines of frozen blood.

Orange-crest struggled to rise.

"No." Yang Wei held him down. "It's a duel. Even if you could interfere, you can't. Your master chose this."

"No." Orange-crest insisted. "No is coward. I help."

"Have faith in your master, Li Hou." Daoist Enduring Oath rumbled. "He has survived far worse than a duel among peers."

"Turn of fortune... so small asure..."

Brother Scouring dicine's voice was almost inaudible through the howling winds. Orange-crest strained his ears to hear his brother's words. Fury rose within him as he heard disciples in the crowd mocking Brother Scouring dicine, chittering venomously about his weakness.

"I shall do... honor of... taking this seriously."

Orange-crest's eyes widened enough they felt fit to pop out of his head, as the battlefield exploded into fla.

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He was slowing. Death by ten thousand cuts indeed.

That was the trick of it. Of the fan Elder Lu had leant him. The cold lingered, growing deeper with every sweep of the fan, every stroke of the blade. Even his refined body was slowing now. Despite the fire burning in his dantian, his extremities were colder than ice. If his blood still froze as water did, he would be immobile now, waiting to die.

It was ti. Daoist Snowclad Heart's qi surged, as he gathered power for a finishing blow.

"By a great turn of fortune, you appear to have co into possession of so small asure of true skill. I shall do you the honor of taking this seriously." Daoist Scouring dicine spoke into the whirlwind.

"Bold words for soone who-"

Daoist Scouring dicine shoved the Quarternary Heartfire Pill into his mouth before the fool could finish. An amateur mistake, from a daoist who had never known war. Never give an alchemist ti to consu a pill.

Winter withered and died, as the world around him burned.

It was still too much. Too much power for him to control, too much heat to be directed. Exactly what he needed. The sweltering heat emanating from his skin lted the ice upon in robes in an instant, then began to blacken the fabric the next. His wounds closed, cauterized by the inferno within him.

He opened his mouth to speak a final taunt, but a torrent of fire poured out instead.

A flare of his qi shattered the storm around him, revealing his foe's location. He could not fly as Daoist Snowclad Heart did. Not for lack of power, but for a lack of control.

Instead, he lined up the angles. Crouched, relishing the impossible power running through him.

The first pass took him from the sky. Fingers interlinked, twin fists rocketed downward. An inferno followed them, driving Daoist Snowclad Heart to the earth. Li Xun twisted in the air, venting fiery qi through his feet. He landed like a teor, waves of fla echoing out with every step. Flas radiated from his shoulders, shrouding the daoist like a phoenix's wings.

He retrieved the pocket of powder from his lower robes. A single touch reduced fabric and paper alike to ash, coating his hand in molten tal.

Most poisons are destroyed by fla. But not those of tal, uncommon as they are.

There are many sorts of impurities in the unrefined body. So of them were beyond his skill to synthesize, complex organic detritus that the body produced as it grows. Others however, can be found in nature. Isolated and purified, rendered into a tallic powder. Normally, a cultivated spirit would simply purify its vessel once more.

But Snowclad Heart's spirit was about to have more pressing concerns.

The man swung his fan about, futilely attempting to marshal the shattered blizzard. Li Xun drew his fist back with a smile. A fla fit to burn a sect to the ground gathered in his fight, setting the molten tal to gentle bubbling.

He stepped forward, burning away the space between them in a single step. A sword bit into his shoulder, but the burst of fla that poured out rejected the blade. In this mont, he was more than flesh. A thin mortal shell around a sea of fla.

His fist shattered the fan raised in futile defense. It might have been a core formation treasure, but in the end it was still a fan. Ill-suited for blocking a fist. For a single mont, Daoist Snowclad Heart stood, impaled upon his arm. Then he vented the fla within in him one final ti, a torrent of burning qi carrying its leaden venom deep into his foe's dantian.

Both n fell to their knees. Only one stirred from that position.

It was done. There could be no turning back now. He would walk free, or die at the hands of Elder Lu. Slowly, Daoist Scouring dicine crawled away from his defeated opponent. He lurched to his feet, staggering toward the crowd. Flas still poured from him, even as the power they fed him dwindled. He couldn't have Daoist Snowclad Heart burn away.

A dead daoist can't cry pitiably for vengeance, after all. Or demand impossible dical care in recognition of his long service.

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One foot in front of the other. Softly, with grace. Don't stumble. Don't let the knees bend.

Feel the pain, let it pass through you. Tense the core, not the neck, in ti with the waves of agony. Searing flas raced through his ridians, cooking his flesh from within. Daoist Scouring dicine exhaled, wincing as the the steam pouring through his nostrils carried with it horrifying traces of the scent of roasting pork.

"An impressive performance, senior. I see your studies have yielded fruit."

Congratulations received a silent nod.

"Strength built upon a mountain of pills is as enduring as footsteps in sand."

"This, is what you pursued instead of core formation? I cannot say I am impressed. Tell , how much wealth did you spend for a mont's glory? Fifty spirit stones? A hundred?"

Derision earned a tiny smile, a silent promise of repaynt.

Mantra after mantra passed through Daoist Scouring dicine's mind as he forced his broken body to go through the motions of victory. He t the eyes of a younger daoist approaching with a question, and exhaled a thin stream of fla, like the tongue of a serpent, in answer.

"Ah, my apologies." The man said, stepping out of his way. "Another ti, fellow daoist."

More steps. The crowd thinned.

"Okay?"

Daoist Scouring dicine looked down at Li Hou. The monkey looked as bad as he felt. Even his dense fur could not fully conceal the bruises slowly spreading across his body. The daoist nodded, then kept walking. The monkey limped beside him, a little further back than he usually followed, in deference to the flas that still leaked from his every pore.

Daoist Scouring dicine slowed, moderating his pace to avoid leaving the injured monkey behind. It was agony, walking so slowly. But then, if he rushed ho, would sitting even be an improvent? There was nothing to do but hold on, cycle his qi until the fire within him abated.

They walked together in silence. He wondered, what the monkey was thinking. How it felt after that loss. Yang Wei's performance had been impressive, for one so young. That body reinforcent technique was clearly entirely based in spiritual cultivation, but it wasn't one of the sect's standard arts. Its potential for reversal was remarkable for its realm. Likely his legendary uncle's influence.

The heat flared within his chest. Daoist Scouring dicine fell to his knees.

Orange-crest reached out for him reflexively, before stopping himself.

"Okay?" He asked again.

Daoist Scouring dicine nodded, eyes tightly shut. He waited, for the fit to pass.

"I'm okay." He finally answered. "Are you?"

"That was bad."

"I suppose it could have gone better." He agreed.

"Why did you fight him?"

"It is... complicated. His master has a grudge against ."

"They said bad things about you. The other disciples."

"That does not surprise ."

"I want to go. They don't like . But I am monkey. Is okay, that n do not like . Often, I do not like n. But you are of them. Brother and pack. Yet they scorn you."

Daoist Scouring dicine sighed. He'd worried it might co to this. But perhaps he could talk Li Hou around, or bribe him into working with him. But what loyalty could he really expect from a wild animal? He would not be wrong to run, when he saw what kind of power cultivators could bring to bear.

"Yes, they do." He answered.

"Is because of ?" To Li Xun's surprise, he couldn't read the monkey's face. There was no guilt or fear in it, but his eyes shined with resolve.

"No. That sin is mine alone."

"If sect-pack no likes, then leave with ."

Daoist Scouring dicine smiled.

"Would that I could. But a daoist's oaths to his sect are not so easily forsaken."

"What?"

"I can't leave. Not without permission."

"Stupid." Li Hou hissed. He winced, having aggravated his injury. "Permission for coward and stupid. I ask. Emperor of Mount Yuelu protect. No man or tiger will hurt my brother."

Li Xun's eyes watered, as a stray stream of fiery qi tore its way through his tear ducts. His disciple was a fool, but he was a loyal fool at least.

"I will not bring your mountain's lord into conflict with our sect master. You saw how strong I am? I have no more chance against Ren Yuhan than you do against ."

"Emperor not lose. Monkey Emperor never lose." Li Hou insisted, refusing to na his king a re lord. It was not his brother's fault, that he did not understand how vast the heavens, how mighty the greatest of monkeys.

Arguing with Li Hou was a pointless endeavor. At least on matters the monkey took on faith, like his mysterious lord's infallibility. Even if the spirit beast stood at the peak of core formation, Ren Yuhan was in nascent soul, to say nothing of the sect's ancestors in closed cultivation. No spirit beast could hope to win such a fight.

"I have a plan." Li Xun said instead. "There are ways, that I could be released. But the best of them hinge upon you. A year, within the sect."

"How?"

"It's complicated. There's a tournant at year's end-"

"No." The monkey interrupted him. It stepped close, eting his eyes. They watered again, with the stench of singed fur.

"Is simple." Orange-crest said firmly. He took his brother's hand. It was so large still, big enough to span much of his upper back. He gripped two of the fingers with his own hand, pulling his brother along. His hands burned, but he refused to let go.

"No. Is simple." He repeated. "For Brother Scouring dicine, anything. Plan probably stupid. Will make work anyway."

"The sect will not let leave easily. It will be a hard fight."

Orange-crest smiled like a man. His thick lips and long fangs leant the expression an air of both wild violence, and ridiculous artifice.

"Then we break it." The monkey said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.