As Sen watched Changpu and the devil trying to decide when and how to attack, he realized sothing. For the first ti in a very, very long ti, he felt it. Stillness. Without any effort on his part, Sen’s entire world had contracted down to two things: here and now. No army awaited orders. There was no kingdom to conquer, and no sects to subdue. There was no unwanted ascension tightening around him like a noose. Neither the shape of the future nor the regrets of the past had a hold on him. In that heartbeat of ti that separated him from violence and death, it had all fallen away and left only…stillness.
As that stillness settled over him like a familiar blanket, he saw the truth. Changpu and the devil likely did have the power to kill him. They even knew it. Beneath that, though, possibly even hidden from themselves, both were afraid. It was why Changpu had stalled until the devil arrived. It was why the devil had tried to ambush him from behind. It was why they were hesitating. When the smart thing to do was to attack him imdiately, together, and with as much overwhelming force as they could muster. Sowhere deep inside of both of them was the fear that they couldn’t win.
And with that understanding ca the realization that, in its own way, this was a lucky encounter. His power had grown so fast and often felt so bottomless that he hadn’t been forced to push himself in other ways. He hadn’t been forced to adapt, innovate, or even rely on the skills that he’d once used in almost every fight. Not that those skills were gone. Even now, he practiced, but practice wasn’t the sa as a fight with his life hanging in the balance. These two could be the whetstone that he sharpened himself against. Then, inspiration struck. Giving Changpu and the devil a calm smile, Sen hid. They could still see him, but that wasn’t the point.
Sen was willing to bet that both of them altered their tactics based on what they sensed from their opponents as much as what they saw. After all, if he felt an opponent gathering qi for a technique, it changed how he reacted. By hiding, he suspected that he was depriving them of that advantage. Based on the looks of alarm on their faces, it had worked. It also jarred Changpu enough that he drew a dao saber and launched himself at Sen. It had the character of an ill-considered decision. All fury and no forethought. Not that it could be ignored. Sen could sense that the man had layered a wind blade over the actual blade. It was a clever choice. Even if Sen blocked the sword, there was a good chance that the wind blade would do so damage.
Normally, Sen would et an attack like that by eting force with even greater force. Instead, he fell back on an approach he’d favored in his early years. Divert the force, but with a little sothing extra for distraction. Instead of forming a wind blade of his own, Sen used a much smaller amount of wind qi and compressed it down to the size of a grain of sand. He affixed it to the butt end of his spear haft. The spearhead connected with the saber and redirected its course just enough to miss Sen. He twisted away and spun the butt end of the haft toward Changpu’s head. The misshapen cultivator was fast enough to block the blow. What he wasn’t expecting was for Sen to activate the rice grain of compressed wind. It detonated like a thunderclap re inches from the man’s face.
In practice, it wasn’t very destructive and wasn’t ant to be. The purpose was to sow confusion. The noise and blast of wind disoriented Changpu for a sliver of ti. That allowed Sen to reverse the blow. As he spun, Sen compressed more wind qi down to the sa size. Except he used about four tis as much qi. When the haft connected with Changpu’s exposed ribs, the results were far more impressive. Between the power of the blow itself and the wind qi, Sen heard several ribs snap. Then, the force caught up to Changpu’s body. He was hurled through a nearby tree. Sen resud a ready stance and looked at the devil. The creature was staring at him, a massive blade only half drawn in the second or two it had taken Sen to seize the montum. It didn’t take long for Changpu to burst into the clearing, eyes bright with pent-up rage. Before the other man could say anything, Sen adopted the tone of a disappointed, chiding teacher.
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“A warrior is never too eager and never too cautious. They strike at the appropriate mont with the appropriate force.”
Sen watched as Changpu grew increasingly angry at both the words and the tone. He had no doubt interpreted Sen treating this fight as an opportunity to teach as open mockery, which was completely true. Doing that called into question the basic competence of an opponent. For anyone who was already injured and angry, it was almost impossibly infuriating. At least, that was what Auntie Caihong had told him. This was the first ti he’d tried it out. Based on the way that Changpu looked ready to go on a murderous rampage, it appeared that she was right.
While that was happening, Sen reinforced the Heaven’s Rebuke that he’d kept active around the spear. He’d let his eyes stay on Changpu, giving the impression that he’d dismissed the devil as a concern. For reasons that eluded Sen, there was sothing about an opponent looking sowhere else that made people, and apparently devils, think it was ti to strike. That was a ridiculous idea when dealing with a cultivator who had a spiritual sense that inford them of everything happening around them. Sen didn’t need to see soone to see them. Even with his hiding ability limiting the range of his spiritual sense, it didn’t matter at these distances.
So, it ca as no shock at all when the devil launched an attack. It bore so resemblance to a fireball, although the sickly purple glow betrayed the devilish qi that fueled it. Sen waited until the last possible mont before he activated his qinggong technique for a tiny burst. It was just enough to move him out of the way. Waiting until then had allowed him to condense a tiny orb of Heavens’ Rebuke at the tip of his spear. As his qinggong technique carried him back, he swept his spear beneath the tainted fireball. The tiny orb shot across the intervening space.
The devil realized the attack was coming and tried to move, but his damaged leg betrayed him. The orb connected with that leg and simply consud the flesh. Not that Sen saw it. He’d never looked away from Changpu. The scream of absolute agony that filled the clearing, along with the sound of the devil crashing to the ground, was all the confirmation he needed. Sen once more adopted the tone of the chiding teacher.
“The warrior does not rely solely on their eyes, for the eyes can deceive. The warrior instead hones every tool available, so they are never caught unaware.”
“Be silent! You arrogant bastard!” roared Changpu.
The other cultivator’s composure broke completely, and he started hurling wind blades at Sen. The wind blades were dangerous, but Changpu’s fury made him sloppy. He did much the sa thing he’d once done years before when Chan Yu Ming attacked him in the capital. He ducked, twisted, and turned to avoid most of the strikes. The last three, however, he intercepted with his spear. He wasn’t using it to deflect the techniques, but rather to bring them into contact with Heavens’ Rebuke. The three wind blades shattered, and Changpu let out a pained scream as the backlash hit him.
It appeared that training disciples to keep fighting through that kind of pain was not sothing that the Soaring Skies Sect had embraced. He understood why they might not want to do it. His own experiences with having his techniques broken still appeared occasionally in his bad dreams. Yet, it was sothing every cultivator would face sooner or later. Failing to prepare juniors for that inevitability did them a grave disservice. That was the explanation that Master Feng had given him when Sen had complained about it. He hadn’t seen the truth of it at the ti, but he certainly saw it now as Changpu collapsed to one knee. Sen lifted an eyebrow as too-dark blood leaked from the other man’s nose.
“A warrior understands that pain cannot be avoided but only endured. When pain can cloud your mind, you have already failed.”
Confident that one opponent was out of the fight for the mont, Sen turned his attention to what he considered the greater threat. The devil had sohow managed to return to his feet despite missing a sizeable portion of his right thigh.
“And will you lecture about what a warrior requires?” growled the devil.
“Why waste those words on you? You’re no warrior.”
“Then what am I?”
“You are a blight beneath the heavens, and I will treat you as such.”
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