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5.34 - The Valiant Ones

  A great tiger stalked the desert. Its golden pelt shimmered in the harsh light of the dark desert sun, and its claws were of sharp metal, gleaming with death and strife. He Yu met the tiger as the storm, his spirit breaking over the land. A storm roared in, carrying wind and rain. Clouds rolled above, and heaven reached down to the earth, shattering the metal spikes littering the otherwise barren expanse. Tan Qingsheng turned. His nine-ringed blade met He Yu’s guandao in a sparking clash of heaven and flame.

  “Don’t turn your back on me!” Tan Xiaoling shouted. Her voice had taken on a sort of frenzy—a battle lust He Yu had known her spirit had always held, but only now had been fully unleashed. One tiger leaped at another, the smaller of the two no less ferocious for her disadvantage.

  But Tan Qingsheng had achieved the Sixth Realm—Soul Refining. Nobody fell upward that far, even with access to as much wealth and privilege as Tan Qingsheng had. The Soul Refining stage was locked behind two important bottlenecks. First, to reach Nascent Soul, a cultivator needed to form a Wayborn Seed. Without one, Golden Core was the furthest one could ascend. Second, to break through the bottleneck to the Sixth Realm, a cultivator had to develop their Wayborn Seed to where they could at least glimpse their personal Dao.

  There were also the insights into one’s Way and the sheer amount of qi one needed to cultivate toward Soul Refining. Experts at this stage were no laughing matters. The idea that a Nascent Soul cultivator, even five at once, could stand against one such expert was absurd. Yet here they were. After all, what other choice did they have?

  With his free hand, Tan Qingsheng grabbed his niece off his back. As he held her up, gripped in one powerful hand, it finally sank in just how huge the gap was. Tan Xiaoling was always absurdly strong among them. Her raw physical strength rivaled Chen Fei’s. Her speed rivaled Li Heng, and that was without a dedicated movement technique. The flame-kissed sabers she wielded were as potent as anything He Yu could bring to bear, even with his cultivation of an ancient primordial art.

  Now she looked more like a helpless child than the monster He Yu knew her as. She fought, to be sure, but her uncle shrugged off saber and technique alike. Even as he formed up the giant metal blades of his variant of the Breath of the White Desert, he batted away He Yu’s guandao with that nine-ringed blade of his.

  The Peerless Judgment showed He Yu the shape of Tan Qingsheng’s technique. “The shard!” he shouted. It was all he could get out in time, as the gleaming metal blade leveled itself at Tan Xiaoling’s heart. Although he’d never used the Spring Rain Mirror in such a way before, he couldn’t do anything but try. The water-aspected blue disk formed itself from the qi of his presence. It formed in the instant the metal shard streaked toward Tan Xiaoling’s heart, gleaming sharp and laden with killing intent.

  The mirror shattered under the weight of Tan Qingsheng’s attack. A silver-white formation barrier flashed into the space between the still-fading mirror and Tan Xiaoling’s heart. Chen Fei’s barrier flashed with brilliant light for an instant, then faded. Although it hadn’t held for more than a fraction of a heartbeat, it held for long enough.

  Li Heng flashed into the space behind Tan Xiaoling, his jian held before them both, the flat side of the blade covering her heart. The metal shard hit his ancestral jian, and the explosion of power finally broke the elder Tan’s grip. Li Heng and Tan Xiaoling tumbled to the ground in a tangle of limbs. The Jade Princess was the first to regain her feet. True to her word to He Yu so many years ago, she attacked.

  Tan Xiaoling threw herself at her uncle in a fury of blades and metal qi. The Breath of the White Desert screamed around her, contained to a tight formation that only extended just past the edge of her reach.

  If the sheer ferocity of her assault pressed Tan Qingsheng at all, he declined to show it. He met her blow-for-blow, his nine-ringed blade jangling as he deftly turned aside each of her strikes, and countered with his own.

  It took Li Heng a few breaths longer to rise. He struggled with his ancestral jian, like he had back when he’d been struggling with the Winter Moon Reflection during their Foundation days. Still, he lifted the weapon and unleashed a screaming torrent of silver qi.

  Winter descended upon the ruined valley floor. The sky went black. Frost crept along the cracked and ruined earth, and the temperature plummeted. A jagged line of ice crystals followed the path traced by Li Heng’s technique. Overhead, a silver moon filled the black expanse.

  The technique was enough, at least, to give Tan Qingsheng pause. “Impressive, boy. Truly a worthy descendant of Li Renshu. Still, it’s not enough.” The tiger’s muscles bunched, and the desert reasserted itself. Night turned to day, and the frozen field faded. The thirsty earth drank the melting snow before, once again, it turned parched and cracked. The tiger pounced, and winter broke.

  When Li Heng appeared next to He Yu in a flash of moonlight, it didn’t take an expert in medicine to see he was badly wounded. A bloody gash ran diagonally across his chest from shoulder to waist. Even coming out of the White Hare Dance, he stumbled, then took to one knee, his jian falling from limp fingers. His breathing came in heavy labored heaves and his spirit flickered with each lungful he took.

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  He Yu charged in to take his place at Tan Xiaoling’s side as she still did battle with her uncle. Together, they fought back each of his strikes. The impact against his guandao sent shocks up He Yu’s arms like he’d never felt—this was a losing battle if he’d ever been one. Some small part in the back of his mind told him he’d no right to be here. No right to stand against a foe so far above him. But a different, louder part sang in glee. To fight such a battle was the stuff of legends in truth.

  From behind the elder tiger, a mass of shadows rose. Half a hundred eyes peered out from the darkness, and with the shadows rose an army. Lifted above the whole of it, Yan Shirong spread his arms as two massive eyes opened above his shoulders. The construct army surged forward, spraying masses of black thorns and reaching for Tan Qingsheng with limbs of shadow. Even as his legion of puppets advanced, Yan Shirong produced countless daggers, throwing them with the speed and accuracy that only immortals could achieve.

  Tan Qingsheng turned. He sent a massive blade each at Tan Xiaoling and He Yu, forcing them to back off. The blades were only meant to distract, to buy him a moment. But a moment was all he needed to deal with Yan Shirong. The old tiger waded into the army called by Yan Shirong’s technique, the Puppeteer’s Legion. Bones of countless constructs bound only with shadow shattered and scattered with each sweep of Tan Qingsheng’s nine-ringed blade. The tendrils Yan Shirong called to bind him split and withered under the relentless march of the desert. The tiger leaped again. Yan Shirong stepped through shadow and hauled himself away on threads of the same.

  Tan Qingsheng roared. Only partially human, the sound carried the same paralyzing power as the spirit beast whose namesake the Tan family cultivated. A wave of qi washed over He Yu, rooting him to the spot. Rooting Yan Shirong to the spot.

  He Yu watched in horror as Tan Qingsheng appeared before Yan Shirong. Shadows rose from whatever tiny patch of darkness they could, wrapping themselves around Tan Qingsheng’s limbs. They weren’t enough. The old tiger slammed a massive meaty fist into Yan Shirong’s face. He Yu winced at the resulting crunch. Yan Shirong flew back before finally crashing to the ground several hundred feet away. He tumbled over himself another dozen times before finally coming to a stop. He remained motionless.

  Still, He Yu and Tan Xiaoling attacked. Calling the Mark of the Dark Sun, Tan Xiaoling slammed a blazing black spear into her uncle’s back. He Yu called the Rushing Wind, layering Heaven’s Descending Blade onto the technique. A crackling line of heaven reached out from the end of his guandao. The flesh of Tan Qingsheng’s back blistered and burned under the twin assault. He turned and locked eyes with each of them in turn.

  The look on his face chilled He Yu to the bone. It was one of excitement, elation, and fury. All mixed into an almost manic mask of battle lust. Tan Qingsheng’s lips split into a grin, and he let out a deep, rich laugh. Between his expression and the visible damage to his flesh and clothes, Tan Qingsheng looked half a nightmare as he bore down on He Yu and Tan Xiaoling once again.

  A mountain burst forth from the parched earth of the desert. Earth and metal rose, blocking the path of the charging tiger. The jagged metal spikes that littered the desert twisted and rushed toward the mountain, layering themselves upon the lower reaches of the rugged slopes. At the peak, impossibly high, a shining mass of formation characters gathered. They tumbled down the slopes like in a landslide, strengthening and tempering.

  Chen Fei met Tan Qingsheng head on. A formation barrier flashed into the space between them. As capable as the Seventy-Two Blessed Symbols was, Tan Qingsheng smashed through the barrier like it was only a paper screen. Silver qi burst into the air, trailing in motes of light before fading to nothing. The nine-ringed blade carved through the air, flames licking the edge, and each of the nine rings gleaming in the fading afternoon light.

  The blade smashed down on Chen Fei’s forearm. The Titan Panoply took the brunt of the attack, but the plates of metal qi still shattered under the weight. The sheer force of the blow caused her to stumble, even under the bolstering effects of the Iron Fortress Redoubt and the Eternal Mountain Root.

  Tan Qingsheng drew back his nine-ring blade for another strike. Chen Fei stepped forward, her fist gathering a mass of qi at her side. Three of Tan Qingsheng’s metal blades slammed into her shoulders and chest. Her spirit flickered under the weight of the attack, but still she readied her technique.

  A mountain rose to the heavens, stretching away from the world below. From the endless canopy of the firmament, a single point of light broke free and began its fall. An explosion of mountain and earth and metal sent a shockwave blasting out from the impact of Chen Fei’s Falling Star Strike. Great chunks of stone were ripped from the earth. The jagged spikes of Tan Qingsheng’s spirit bent, screeched, and shattered. Then, for an instant, the world went silent as everything collapsed back in on itself.

  When He Yu’s normal vision returned, Tan Qingsheng had Chen Fei by the wrist. He kicked her away. As she tumbled over the rocky broken valley floor, what was left of the Titan Panoply broke off and flew away in pieces. One of her arms twisted at an unnatural angle. Once she’d finally come to a halt, she remained motionless.

  Tan Qingsheng turned. “Which of you is first?” he growled. “But I’ll rip both of you apart at once, if you prefer.” He Yu heard pain in those words. Tan Qingsheng looked like he favored one side a bit, a clear mark that Chen Fei’s Falling Star Strike had at least hurt him.

  Shooting a brief glance at He Yu, Tan Xiaoling said, “It’s been an honor fighting by your side, He Yu. I’ll not hold it against you, if in the moments I’ve left to live you abandon me. You’ve done all you can here, and for that I am grateful.”

  He Yu drew himself up to his full height, such as it was. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten. A hero never gives up.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Tan Xiaoling’s lips quirked into the wry half-smirk she’d so often worn back at the sect. “I haven’t forgotten. And I don’t hold back. Just make sure you don’t get in my way.”

  Although it was as fatalistic as it was dry, He Yu appreciated the humor.

  Their presences expanded, spreading out across the valley floor. One, a tiger stalking the lush oasis hidden in the center of a scorching desert. The other, a churning storm driving wind and rain. Metal and heaven. Fury and flame. Together, they threw themselves at a foe stronger than either had ever faced before.

  Tan Qingsheng met them on their terms.

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