The Fourth Wall - Chapter 14 preview

In the end, they declined Fa Yuan's request to use the pool. She had not desired to utilize the formation either, or more specifically, pay for it. As she put it, "Trust in me. I know my path and I am walking it already. This is but a shortcut."

Even so, the entire process of decision and then decline of her did give Tou He the weeks he needed to consolidate his cultivation after his ascent. The process of integrating soul and body, weaving them tight such that his mortal body was overridden and so became immortal would take years, of course; but the initial process of stabilitzation was necessary.

Even so, in weeks, they had further reason to stay at the monastery. The only thing left was for the group to decide where to go. A decision that was entirely dependent upon Wu Ying.

"Are you certain?" Fa Yuan asked as she rode beside him, following the path of another roadway away from the settlement. "Not North perhaps? Their cultivation methods are different enough that perhaps...?"

"Spirit cultivation is different, but it's too different. Perhaps if I had a spirit already, maybe I could weave it into my own body and soul as a binding cord." Wu Ying shrugged. "But I've never heard of it happening before, and I'm one of the foremost experts in the south." Admittedly, that was not a great boast, like saying a pond was the deepest portion of water in a dessert.

"But the west?"

"Yes. There's a great library there, in the far west in the town of Yang Wen Dun. Supposedly, it carries many things, not just text from cultivators from the civilized world but works from outside. The great sutras supposedly passed through there, once," Wu Ying said and then grinned, pitching his voice a little higher to target his friend. "Also, it's a major stop on the tea trade route to the west, so there's quite a few famous tea shops."

Tou He perked up a little, then sighed and slumped. "Most places that grow good tea won't export it so far." Then, after a moment, he added. "Though there are foreign teas... and some teas that grow better over time. I bet they send some of those out that way. Do you know...?" 

Wu Ying stared at the visibly excited monk, smirking. "Never seen you so excited for anything but meat." Then, he shook his head in negation. "My apologies, no. It's not something I ever looked for."

His friend sighed loudly. "Really. Travel all over the world and still so uneducated. How can you be so poorly taught, when you have both Ah Mu and your martial sister?"

"Just because I don't hold the same interests as you..." Wu Ying grumbled. He twitched the reins a little, controlling his mare as it tried to shift to the side of the road to take a nip at some low hanging branches. "I learnt a lot while traveling. Remember the part of being the greatest expert on spirit cultivation in the south?"

"Worthl-" He cut off as he dodged the tossed stone, barely managing to get out of the way of Yang Mu's projected irritation. "What was that for?"

"You're being rude."

"To Ah Ying?"

"To those he studied from."

"Ah..." Tou He ducked his head in contrition. "You are right. My apologies, my lady." He hesitated, then added. "And to the spirits who might have heard. I got carried away, speaking with that fool."

"He is a bad influence," Yang Mu said graciously.

"Hey!" Wu Ying protested over the laughter of the pair.

Still, for all their compaints, there were no further objections to their destination. It would take months, crossing the breadth of civilized land towards the edge , before they reached the barbaric kingdoms. It was more time than Wu Ying wanted to spend, but it was as best as he could tell, the best option.

At least, he figured, he had good company. And looking at his contemplative lover, he assumed along the way she'd create a few new merchant ties. Expand her network.

It was what she did, after all.

***

Wu Ying parried the chi-infused arrow with his drawn blade, freeing his leg from the stirrup and rolling off the sword all in a single smooth motion. He felt the arrow head deflect away, cutting across the air and shattering the ground, sending a gout of flame and earth into the air as it exploded.

More arrows, so many that it darkened the air arrived moments later. Behind his steed, Wu Ying could do nothing to protect the beast but thank it for its service, as it was pinned over and over again. It did not even last long enough to let out a shriek before it fell over, dead.

By his side, his friends were handling the attack in their own way. Yang Mu had somehow managed to wield her dao such that the flying arrows converged all on the same point, a gaping hole where her fan had opened. Another shadow, high above, returned those same arrows that enterred the linked space, showering their ambushers with their own projectiles.

Tou He took a much more direct route to the attacks, expanding his dao and flames. The arrows burnt up long before they reached him, coming apart even as the air around him shimmered with suppressed heat. Yet, so great was his control of his flames and dao that wu Ying barely felt more than a slight increase in ambient temperature.

Wu Ying wanted to do more, to throw a wall of wind upwards, to pick up his opponents with the wind and cast them forwards. He reached for his friends, to ask them to help and felt a deep throb of pain run through him that caused him to sink deeper into his stance, to hide behind the slumping body of his mare.

Tou He had made no further movement, though the air glittered and smoked, as his chi and dao interacted with another. For a moment, the arrows and bows held by their opponents resisted and then they burst into flames, causing their attackers to curse and discard the weapons and draw their swords.

Then, Tou He's attack was thrust away. A flicker of movement, nearly too fast for Wu Ying to follow appeared, only the moment when the pair clashed highlighted as Tou He blocked the giant clawed steel weapons swinging at him with his staff. He flew backwards from the strike, his opponent chasing after him and all that Wu Ying could think was that the attacker had wielded an entirely impractical weapon.

Then, he had no more time to worry about his friend or the battle he fought. He had thrown his dao and his chi into the air, a beckoning to their opponent, that Nascent Soul demonic cultivator. For that was the second thing he had noted, the stink of the attackers that filled the air, that threatened to choke him.

Most of all, he had no further time to worry as the attackers arrived, a few of the lower grade already injured by their own arrows. The majority, no more than dross - Energy Storage cultivators by the dozen - and two Core Formation cultivators. Both engaged Yang Mu immediately, and a portion of the former Nascent Soul cultivator was deeply angered.

Another portion was greatly relieved, for even now, he was not certain how far he had healed. To what extent he could exert himself. He was supposed to be resting after all. But now he had no more choice, and in a way, that too was a relief.

He blocked the first cut, leaned out of the way the chi extension of the blade that came erupting from the tip. He riposted, collecting the blade as he extended his hand, slipping the blade into his opponent's neck and then ripping it out as he stepped to the side to meet the next opponent. 

That one, he caught on his bare hand, filling his aura with the intent and heart of the blade. He was the blade, and so their weapons clashed with one another and the other weapon was discarded. He flicked his hand sideways, extending his aura at the same time in the same way his first opponent had done, but with degree accuracy and speed.

It cut through his opponent's neck, lopping their head off and leaving a line of blood down another opponent behind them as they threw themselves back. He ignored the gasp of pain from his opponent, even as quick-stepped forward to the right to meet another opponent, dodging the sword strike that cut across where he would have been if he had continued in his original line of movement.

Fighting multiple opponents - and not overwhelming them with pure chi and your cultivation base - was an art form. It was not something that was taught much nor practised by most, though Wu Ying had gained quite the experience in the last decade. Mostly by bullying his students, lowering his cultivation base sufficiently that it was a challenge for them to try to strike him. He had, of course, added additional challenges - recitations of the characteristics of spirit herbs, geographic details and potential alchemical concoctions - to the battles. After all, the more senses one involved, the greater the stress, the better the information was imprimented upon their minds and bodies.

Even if, in some cases, he had to do the imprinting with a good, solid strike to the head or buttocks.

The most important task while fighting multiple opponents was movement and maneuver. You never wanted to face more than one opponent if possible, two at worst. Constantly moving meant you were able to place living and dying fighters in front of their allies, never allowing them to surround you. 

Which, obviously, meant that you circled at the edges, slowly falling in rather than rushing straight into the center. You crushed throats, cut open necks and lopped off limbs, moving around opponents as they tried to encircle you themselves. Sometimes, you killed those who might do so, other times you cut through and emerged the other way.

That was the other important lesson of that fight, of course. 

Chaos.

The greater the degree of chaos, the easier it was to finish such a fight without injury. Unless fighters fought together, had learnt a battle formation, they were vulnerable to being confused and attacking one another, fouling up lines of sight or stepping into thrown attacks of their allies.

Even if they were taught a battle formation, each formation had a specific set of routines and backups for when members of the formation fell. At a certain point, the battle formation would fall entirely, with the practitioners unable to keep up with the changing numbers even as they attempted to transition to the next movement.

It was this knowledge that Wu Ying exploited. He tore into the group, dodging and striking and killing with abandon. If he could not kill, he crippled, knowing that was as good as killing for the purpose of destroying their formation. 

The battle itself, in the end, was entirely unfair. Even without utilizing the full extent of his immortal body - and it was still an immortal body, no matter what - or his empowered soul, without flooding his body with chi to empower his movements; he was still vastly more experienced than these children. He was a killer among children, and he exploited that fact without mercy.

More so, he felt the winds pick up and move with him, gifting him a little of their strength and their guidance. He could tell where those he could not see were, he could feel the actions they took, the direction they looked or the chi they built up. Though he might have objections to the heavens and the way they ruled, in this - facing against the Demonic cultists - they were in accord.

A dozen breaths, two dozen movements and he was done. He was strong enough to finish the dross in the battle, those sent to ambush and kill them. Strong enough to exploit what he did, wield a sword to clear away problems.

Not strong enough to join the battle in the distance, the one that was being carried out multiple li from them, where Tou He fought the demonic cultivator. Not even, perhaps; to stand against a Core Formation cultivator that was uninjured.

But perhaps, enough to tilt the fight in Yang Mu's favor.

He pivoted, smoothly. Ready to wield his weapon in her defense, only to find that she required nothing from him. Not in this at least. One demonc cultivator lay, sunk into a pool of shadows on the ground, restricted by a dozen talismans and a trio of formation flags. The second, she fought with her fans, swaying from side-to-side in that infamous drunken fairy art, frustrating her opponent with the randomness of her movements and angles of attack.

Her attacker, another female cultivator wielding a pair of small daos kept throwing her attacks, weaving them together such that there should have been no space at all between the blades, yet Yang Mu constantly found them. She managed to sneak in her own attacks, the blades opening and shutting with a snap, sharp edges cutting into flesh or striking when closed into pressure points. Blood flowed all around and her opponent slowed fractionally with each blow.

Yet the unnatural resilience of a Core Formation cultivator kept her opponent standing. It was a battle of attrition, though Yang Mu had yet to take a blow. Of course, once she did, the battle could change immediately.

Hovering in the distance, Wu Ying bit his lip. He could follow the fight, and a part of him wanted to step in. If he did that, he would have to exert himself, flushing his body with chi to ensure that he could match their speed and pierce the natural aura defence. On the other hand, he had not actually attempted a full body infusion of his chi because of the numerous dire warnings he had been given.

Worst, if he managed to cripple himself by injuring himself and having a cultivation break, he would leave himself vulnerable to his opponent. In that case, he would be a hindrance to Yang Mu.

Knowing that, he chose to stand aside. Better to wait and watch, to keep his senses extended for additional attackers. After all, the battle between Tou He and his own opponent still had not ended, though he was even more worthless to that battle.

Whatever his role, whatever skills he had, he would have to practice patience.