Bab 141: Days of Madness - To Turn Defeat into Victory
Dàilán was not an idiot; the minute her Veil Technique took full effect she rotated her Cultivation, flexing her domain - just enough to provide her an angled surface of solidified air - which she pushed off of, changing the direction of her flight through the air - away - from the massive Bull Yāoguǐ; even as the branches and leaves of the uprooted tree that the creature was using as an ersatz staff swept through the space she would have been moving through, if she had committed to the initial direction of her leap.
The Yāoguǐ wielded his makeshift weapon with alarming speed; there was a - barely audible - shattering sound as the small crown of the tree splintered through the area of affected by her domain, before the niàn required for it to dissipate passed and Dàilán's eyes widened as she spotted the ears of her opponent flick alertly in her direction.
Dàilán could hear a deep rumble from Bull Yāoguǐ as he twisted from the waist and his massive pectoral, shoulder and abdominal muscles flexed, his large, heavy horned head swinging to follow the path of the tree. All the muscles down the length of both his arms bulged under brown hide darkened by the rain - the moisture literally exploding off of his body - as he redirected the entire length of the tree in a sweeping backswing across the region of space the sound had come from.
Thankfully, Dàilán had long since moved out of range of even the leaves on the crown of the tree - although with each violent movement, more and more of them were torn or ripped off - leaving behind only bare branches.
Dàilán thanked the heavens and earth that this Tarcus fellow was clearly treating the spar appropriately, despite his grandstanding; the tree was a substandard weapon in comparison to a saber or proper staff - for all that it would hurt to be hit by it, a random untrimmed tree was not a deadly threat - unless she was really stupid enough to let it hit her directly. Meanwhile, her opponent would have to compensate for the tree's poor balance and tendency to break if used too roughly. It would be difficult to reinforce or use Essence techniques with it as well, at least in comparison to a proper weapon.
She perched briefly on one of the branches that reached into the clearing from the fallen trees that defined the makeshift arena, working to hold the Veil despite the contact with the wood and made the briefest of sweeps around her to check for threats.
Spectators were everywhere you looked now, standing atop the fallen forest giants that defined the clearing or in the branches of the trees around the makeshift arena. Given the amount of noise and the number of figures she could spot crowded around the space, it seemed almost as if everyone in both camps was here now.
Her eyes narrowed as she saw her opponent's ears immediately flick towards the miniscule rustling of leaves as the branch she landed on shifted slightly, despite her having landed as lightly as possible - and - above the roar of the spectators.
She leaped off the branch the moment she saw his ear twitch and - still - was not fast enough to avoid the air pressure pushed ahead of the tree that slammed on her recently vacated spot, sending her tumbling, holding onto Mountain Veil with grim determination while, instead of fighting the shockwave, Dàilán poured as much Essence as possible into Mountain Mists and let herself be sent spiralling randomly through the air.
Pushing that much Essence into the Mountain Mists Technique had the effect of making Dàilán as light as one of the leaves being blown around the clearing. She let the strong winds from the constant Storm pick her up as the force of the shockwave dissipated; carrying her further away, without making any extra noise or emitting Essence. By this point she was almost certain the Bull Yāoguǐ had a Technique or an ability to sense her Essence use - if his hearing was really that sensitive, the noise of the crowd - or battle - would drive him insensate.
'Of course - maybe his control over his hearing is so good he can isolate the background noise?' she thought rapidly as the winds carried her invisibly higher above the arena, 'if that is the case… I probably do not have a chance… but if it is not…'
Below her, her opponent turned on the spot, trying to locate her again. As the strong wind blew her to a position approximately a zhàng directly above his position, she reached a decision, '...I have to risk it!'
Immediately she released the Mountain Mists Technique, causing herself to plummet towards Torcus' shoulders and cycled her Cultivation, pushing her dive downward even faster, even as she rotated her body into position for a backstab.
Her actions from the moment Dàilán was flung from the branch takes several paragraphs of words to describe, but everything happened between breaths. She was blown above - and then her training daggers were stabbing towards Torcus' shoulder blades - already spitting lightning Essence as they sliced downward.
But it was not fast enough; the Bull Yāoguǐ lowed like a war horn even as he threw his great head back, like a bull goring an enemy.
His heavy, curved horns glowed with a gold light as they smashed into her daggers.
There was a blinding detonation that blasted outward from the point of impact - in a massive sphere of light, flying water, mud and debris that accompanied the thunderclap of their clash - sending Dàilán flying, her invisibility shredded, even as the blast stunned the crowd into a shocked silence.
Dàilán felt a metallic sweetness well up in her throat and coughed explosively. Gobets of blood flew out of her mouth as she was smashed helplessly across the makeshift arena, desperately circulating her Essence to cushion the impact of slamming into one of the fallen trees that loomed like walls around the muddy clearing.
Despite her robe flaring brightly as her Essence and the impact activated the Formations that made up the Essence Silk, she spat out another gob of blood from her mouth as she crashed against the wall-like trunk, smashing several branches to splinters in the process.
Dàilán fought the pain of her injuries and straightened up from the slight crater in the iron-like log where the explosion of Essence had flung her; Tarcus staggered several steps forward, leaving deep footprints in the ground as he fought to remain upright.
Tarcus finally slammed the base of the tree he was using as a weapon into the ground to halt his stumbling and clung to the visibly worse-for-wear trunk, holding himself upright as his head swung slowly from side to side.
The Bull Yāoguǐ's chest was heaving like a blacksmith's bellows - she could hear heavy breath, sounding strained and choppy - over the ringing in her ears.
Muscles flexed visibly in the one arm that gripped like an iron bar onto the 'replanted' tree for support - the Bull Yāoguǐ's hand crushing the trunk in a desperate grasp as his other oversized fist pounded against his chest as if forcing air into his lungs.
'The Lightning Essence from the training blades must have had an effect,' Dàilán thought muzzily, 'even though his horns had definitely been reinforced with…'
Despite a bruised head and burned brow, Dàilán threw herself forward towards the twitching Yāoguǐ, even as her thoughts made the connection that her subconscious had already grasped. Her opponent had used - Metal Essence - to reinforce his horns. That was remarkably unwise of him - but perhaps it was an instinctive reaction…
Her opponent roared, bloodied foam flying from his lips as he twisted his entire body in a convulsive jerk, hurling the tree in his arm towards her.
With absolutely no time to clear the flailing branches - rapidly shredding their remaining leaves as the mass of wood careered towards her, kicking up a fountain of mud - she was a fish at the bottom of the pot.
Headless of the pain as her injuries hit the ground, the young Heiress spun her Cultivation base desperately, pushing Essence into the Mountain River Technique while sending herself sliding at high speed across the space between her and her opponent.
The thundering log passed through her body as Mountain River turned her temporarily intangible with barely a niàn to spare, the remaining branches on the log sounding like lunar years' fireworks as they snapped like toothpicks smashing against the ground.
The shattering log threw mud in all directions with a flurry of snapping branches as it cartwheeled lengthwise towards the edge of the clearing. Dàilán took advantage of the chaos in the wake of the crashing tree and threw herself upward, dropping Mountain River to stem the loss of her rapidly depleting Essence, reestablishing the Veil Technique as she did so. Her invisibility only needed to last half a breath…
Tarcus crashed to one knee and drove the hand that was still outstretched from throwing the tree at her into the ground. Pulses of green-brown Essence splashed outward across the mud in concentric rings - like ripples from a stone cast in water - spreading out in all directions from around his buried wrist.
As the ripples passed over Dàilán, she blinked in stunned shock as her Essence was momentarily ripped from her control and the Veil Technique blown away like so much smoke, leaving her exposed with the Lightning Essence on her blades sputtering out, only a cùn away from her opponent's hide.
Tarcus' free hand whipped out and closed irresistibly around her neck as his discarded weapon thundered into the shallow crater Dàilán had left on the fallen forest giant, exploding into a mass of shattered wood as the remains of the tree crushed itself against the location that the young woman had occupied only a breath before.
The two of them regarded each other in the suddenly silent clearing, both of them heaving with exertion, before Dàilán deliberately spun the points of the - no longer sparking - training knives in her hands away from the Bull Yāoguǐ.
"I yield," she acknowledged clearly into the silence that had fallen since the explosion, inclining her head as much as possible within his grasp.
Tarcus acknowledged her surrender with a painful grunt, releasing her. A moment later, he slumped to a full kneeling position, head down and both arms bracing his upper body to prevent himself from falling face first into the mud. Dàilán let herself likewise collapse onto the muddy ground as the audience around the makeshift arena burst into excited cheers, suddenly thankful for the pouring rain that felt pleasant on her overheated skin.
Oddly enough, her robe seemed to be allowing the cooling rainwater through to rinse her body of dirt and mud at the moment, although a quick glance downward showed it as spotless and perfectly creased as if Chén'er had just handed it to her freshly laundered. A quick push of Essence into the silk reassured her that the robe was undamaged, it just was allowing the rain - and only the rain - to cool and clean her body.
"An Excellent roobe," rumbled Tarcus from beside her as he slowly knelt upright, stretched his arms out to either side and tilted his head back to let the rain wash over his body, "much like thoose training weapoons oof yoours. I unnderestimated booth them and yoou."
"I clearly have much to learn," admitted Dàilán, "I really had no effective way to deal with someone with your strength, skill and Cultivation. Needing to get in close to strike is definitely a weakness of my style - once you survived my first strike, I was done - though I would not recommend defending with Metal against Lightning next time."
"Yoou doo need soome loong range techniques," agreed the other warrior, "but yoou came very cloose too defeating me. Good Fight!" The last two words were spoken loudly and the still cheering crowd roared in approval.
Dàilán spotted the familiar features of her bodyguard and the Head Healer coming towards her as a small group of people came towards them from the audience and she sighed, "Time to face the music," she sighed philosophically, nodding towards the group.
"I see oone oof oour healers in that bunch, soo you are coorrect, unnfoortunately," Tarcus agreed, with a mournful expression on his broad face, his breathing slowing back to normal as he turned to look at her, "yoou shoould coome and train with us - I bet I can help yoou with that loong range prooblem."
"Like that last technique?" she asked speculatively and the Yāoguǐ huffed laughter, "bring oothers too," he suggested, ignoring her question and slowly getting to his feet as the others drew close.
Dàilán opened her mouth to repeat her question, but the Healer was suddenly right in front of her with a supremely irritated expression on her face, "And what, exactly, do you think you were doing, young Mistress?"
She blinked and made to rise to her feet, but her various bruises and strains immediately made themselves felt, causing her to hiss and stagger awkwardly as she rose.
Beside her Turcus was receiving a similar sounding reprimand in the beast-language from a smaller, stout Yāoguǐ that Dàilán could not recognise, who grabbed one of the much larger Bull Yāoguǐ horns somehow - when Tarcus lowered his head, in what appeared to be embarrassment - and hauled him off in another direction, with Tarcus lowing in discomfort and clearly trying to explain himself the entire time.
The Healer in front of Dàilán made an unimpressed noise at her gasp of pain, "serves you right for getting involved in such idiocy."
"It… I did not really have much of a choice," she protested feebly, "it was not my idea in the first place, but… we would have lost a great deal of face if I had declined the challenge."
The Healer straightened Dàilán up with a firm grip, clicking her tongue as she did so and waved a slightly glowing hand down the young teen's body, causing the young teen to hiss in discomfort again.
"I have already spoken to the Head Guard - at length," the Healer replied eventually, sending a glare at Chénli, who shrank back with a sheepish expression, "reminding her of her - actual - duties. It remains that you used wood to put out a fire, a fire that you started."
"I - do - need to train against stronger opponents if I am to improve, honoured Healer," Dàilán explained with a strained, conciliatory tone, "I am not seriously hurt…"
"So you are a healer now?" grumbled the older woman, stepping back, "clearly my services are not appreciated."
"Ah…?" Dàilán bowed quickly to the other Cultivator, biting back another hiss of pain as she did so, "I definitely wish your assistance. I do not think I could return to the clearing without significant delay unless you assist me."
"Your friend will suffice," refused the Healer, waving a no longer glowing hand dismissively, "your injuries are minor and will serve to make you think twice before doing something so foolish in the future. I will go offer my services to the Yāoguǐ healer," she turned a sharp glare on the Heiress as she took a step back, "after all, they may not be experienced with dealing with the aftereffects of Lightning Essence - it would be difficult to explain if your opponent suffered any complications as a result."
"Ah…" Dàilán winced and Chénli paled slightly even as she moved to assist her friend, "yes… please do, honoured Healer - it was only meant to be a simple spar. I had no intention to cause Tarcus any permanent injury."
"You might have thought of that before you started this foolishness," the Healer grumbled as she turned to leave, "get out of this rain and dry off - preferably somewhere warm. Cultivate and use the standard injury balm on your wounds - come and see me if that does not deal with them within the next Shí!"
"Yes, honoured Healer," both girls chorused, breathing a sigh of relief as the Healer moved off in the direction the other healer had taken her opponent.
After a moment, the two of them started walking gingerly towards the nearest gaps in the trunks that led out of the makeshift training area, smiling awkwardly and nodding to various audience members who bowed towards them in admiration. Some started to enter the clearing - clearly intending on training of their own - including several groups of mixed Cultivators and Yāoguǐ.
"Well, it looks like it may have been partially worth it," remarked Dàilán with effort, indicating the mixed groups - and the smaller audience that remained to observe - wearily and Chénli chuckled softly in response, "En. It was a good fight too," she complimented her young mistress.
"It has been a while since I have had a good workout like that without high stakes," Dàilán agreed with a little too much enthusiasm, prompting a pained gasp and a hitch in her steps.
Chénli kept her upright until the pain subsided, wincing sympathetically, "you stung me pretty good too, but not that good," the bodyguard muttered, "we - really - need to get you some long range techniques now that you have the power to use them. It was always stupid to have the Heir relying on a close range, one hit kill, combat style, but you did not have the Essence reserves for big stuff before now."
"That is what the big bastard said too," agreed Dàilán, fighting not to laugh as it prompted another involuntary cry of pain, "Āiyō…"
"He - was - a big bastard, was he not?" asked Chénli rhetorically, "sorry for getting you into that, by the way."
Dàilán shrugged reflexively, then swore at the resulting sharp reminder that shrugging was a bad idea. As they moved slowly into the forest back towards the Sanctuary, she circulated her Cultivation as best she could, easing the various discomforts substantially, "Well, he did offer to train with us, so maybe it was worth it."
"Really?" asked Chénli in surprise, "he was not angry?"
"He seemed to enjoy the fight as much as I did," replied Dàilán.
There was silence for a few moments as they walked into the forest, broken by Chénli remarking, "I will remind you of this the next time you call one of my ideas crazy."
"The next time it involves getting a bruised head and burned brow, you can suck your own turtle egg," retorted Dàilán flatly, before they both broke into helpless laughter - interspersed with gasps of discomfort - from both of them.
---
The next morning, the young Heiress was moving around her tent with only a slight amount of discomfort, finishing up her morning ablutions and dressing in the Essence Silk robes Chún had given her. She was extremely thankful for the protection of the valuable Essence Treasure, for which she credited escaping from yesterday's spar with only minimal injuries.
With a slight focus on the robes themselves, she circulated her Cultivation, causing a number of threads within the robe to glow in mysterious patterns.
The robes shook themselves free of wrinkles and creases, mending any damage and cleaning themselves as if they had just been freshly washed, then adjusted colors and styles to suit her current mood.
The young teen shook her head, "these still amaze me," she muttered, holding up the folds of silk to examine the elegantly practical martial robes they had shifted into, "he could make a fortune with these alone. I cannot believe, he did not even mention they could adjust to suit my preferences. I had to find out by accident," she grumbled to herself, shaking her head, "men!"
Dàilán - had - spent the majority of the previous day recovering from the injuries she had sustained during the spar, although a large part of her 'recovery time' was also taken up with people coming up to congratulate, commiserate or castigate her for competing on an even playing field with one of the champions of their uneasy allies.
It was interesting to note that all the Yāoguǐ who went out of their way to speak to her - only a few as most were still avoiding the Cultivator camp - fell in the congratulate or commiserate groups. Most of her fellow Cultivators with combat experience expressed similar sentiments, especially the Enforcers from the Knife Sect - as despite the loss, they felt she had made a decent showing against a superior opponent, giving their group a great deal of face - especially since none of the Yāoguǐ had even considered her to have any chance at all.
"If you had been using real weapons, you would have gone through his horns with that first blow," the BloodWitch had told her authoritatively, "straight through into that thick skull of his. That would have been the end of it."
The few Cultivators who had mentioned reservations were usually women who had been particularly sheltered back in the Clan - those who had rarely left the Guan Compound and focused on either growing spirit plants or Formations research. Mostly they sought reassurance that nothing bad would happen as a result of the spar. They were usually concerned with what would have happened if she had no longer been able to lead the group to safety, or if the Yāoguǐ had taken offence and attacked.
The other group who had no issue with treating the whole affair as stupid were the Healer and the young women she had taken on as her assistants - but their concern was mainly focused on 'foolish Cultivators participating in activities that led to unnecessary injuries'.
Thankfully, as hers were minor, they were appeased with minimum levels of grumbling. It was never wise to antagonise one's Healers, so Dàilán accepted their poking, prodding and admonishments with dutiful grace.
The person whose reaction surprised her the most was her Father. She had half expected him to be upset his precious daughter had risked herself, 'acting like a foolish young man', or something similar.
Instead he had come back from a meeting with the Mówáng last night in an excellent mood and congratulated her on her 'excellent diplomatic sense' over their simple bowls of campfire stew - a temporary Formation keeping the wind and rain at bay as they sat outside their tents - although ironically, the amount of Essence Beast meat, wild Essence vegetables and herbs in the food made it a much more extravagant meal, than anything they once would have been able to afford back in Hujian.
"The Yāoguǐ are much closer to their Essence Beast ancestors than they like to admit," he had explained, "the fact that their Mówáng had agreed to our terms so easily and had to request access to the Sanctuary from a group they saw as weaker, was not sitting well with most of them - especially since they consider Cultivators to be an untrustworthy bunch in general - unwilling to fight strength to strength."
He indicated her bruises with a flick of his fingers, "your willingness to accept a challenge with one of the Yāoguǐ Champions when clearly outmatched and battling without resorting to 'underhanded means', has made the Mówáng's decision much more acceptable to his Herd, especially as you are the nominal leader of the Cultivators and the one he made the agreement with."
He laughed quietly, spooning up a mouthful of stew before continuing, "strangely enough - both groups - feel you gained - their - side, a good deal of Face. Our group is feeling less pressured by the presence of the Yāoguǐ despite your 'loss' - they feel like you could defeat them in a real battle. There are still a few Cultivators who would rather we killed the 'unnatural devils' rather than make peace with them, so you choosing to 'grant mercy' to one of their strongest fighters has somehow placated those hotheads."
He shrugged at his daughter's wince at that last comment and continued, "whereas the Yāoguǐ feel you have respected their own customs by accepting the challenge. They also feel like you chose to accept defeat honourably rather than escalate improperly - unlike some Cultivators who have more pride and arrogance than sense."
He spooned up another mouthful of stew and chewed it thoughtfully, swallowing before continuing, "after you led by example, both groups felt they had to measure up, so people from both sides have made and accepted challenges to similar sparring matches - or in some cases, simple invitations to the other camp, for the less martially inclined."
Dàilán laughed, then winced as it pulled on her injuries, "they should have just followed the example of the children - they did not need a big fuss to start talking to each other." She took a large mouthful of her own to cover her discomfort.
"As your father, I was - upset - at the thought of my princess risking herself, I admit. But as Xióng remarked - the Mówáng," he added in explanation, seeing her puzzlement at the name, "why treat your daughter or son any differently when it comes to leading? I thought about it and he is right - I am as proud of your actions and decisions as I would be if my son had made them," he declared.
"How… improper of you, Father," Dàilán teased, then sobered, "I am grateful."
"I am not so big a hypocrite as to chastise my Heir and our group's Leader," he flashed a smile as she pulled an unhappy face at the last qualifier, "for something I would applaud if you were born male," he sighed, a distant look in his eyes, "you know your mother never put much stock in that sort of thought and trained me out of it - mostly," he smiled crookedly at her, "and as much as I dislike to admit it, those concerns seem trivial now - fighting for our lives out here - there will be time enough for worrying about proper behaviour later."
The young teen had rolled her eyes at her Father's teasing and they moved onto other topics before retiring to bed.
A soft call from outside her tent brought her out of her recollection of the previous night's events.
Dàilán looked around hastily, making sure she was presentable before answering, "Come."
Chénli ducked through the tent flap, her expression uncertain and Dàilán blinked, "is there a problem, Chén'er?"
"I wanted to apologise for my actions yesterday," her friend replied soberly, tangling her fingers together nervously, "it could have gone very badly."
"It is good that you know that," agreed Dàilán, "think through the possible negative consequences of your actions a bit more next time, ah?" She examined the stricken expression of her 'lady-in-waiting' with a serious gaze, "I depend on you to be my Head Guard, remember? After all, you are supposed to be the older and more responsible of the two of us."
Her bodyguard went to drop to her knees, but Dàilán caught her by the shoulders and held her upright despite her best efforts, "Enough! I participated as much as you did. It worked for the best in the end, but remember I rely on you to be my voice of caution," the younger woman smiled, "as long as you do not overdo it."
"I will remember," her friend answered quietly and the Heiress released her, turning to double check her reflection in the small travel mirror that had been placed in her tent, grumbling, "it seems foolish to worry about appearances out here," she turned back to her bodyguard and sworn sister, "was there anything else, Chén'er? Or did you just visit to beat yourself up?" She shot a piercing glance at her friend, frowning slightly, "is that why you were absent at dinner last night?"
Chénli colored slightly but ignored the last question, "I was asked to escort you to a meeting with the Mówáng - there is going to be an official meeting with the leadership councils of both ourselves and the Yāoguǐ - their shamans say the Storm is passing and we will be able to continue our journey from tomorrow onward."
"That is good," agreed the Heiress, after a moment, deciding not to pursue the matter, "everyone has acclimated to the increased levels of Essence - we have stayed in this place long enough."
She gestured towards the tent flap, "lead the way, Head Guard," she instructed with an affected mein and in response her bodyguard made a deep, florid bow, almost bending herself in half, "at once, Mistress. Please follow this lowly one to the meeting place," Chénli answered with an unctuous voice, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
"This great one is pleased with your service," responded Dàilán, in the same haughty tone of voice, while tilting her head upward so that her nose was pointing skyward and simultaneously curving her hands in a formal orchid pose.
There was a moment's silence, then in a studiously neutral tone Chénli informed her friend, "as the 'older and more mature' of the two of us, I must respectfully advise the Mistress that comporting yourself in such a fashion could possibly give our new allies an entirely inaccurate impression."
"I disagree," responded the young Heiress, dropping the over the top posture and voice with a wicked grin, "I think my 'arrogant Young Master' impression was completely accurate."
The two of them looked at each other then started giggling as they proceeded out of the tent, leaning on each other for support and drawing smiles from the people they passed as they walked through the camp.
"One of those silkpants would not have survived a day on this trip," declared Chénli once they had calmed down, "I am glad you are the one we are following."
PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA 
WheeledWriter
WheeledWriter The title is the Chinese variation on the western idiom, 'Snatching Victory from the Jaws of Defeat'
I've gone over the fight a bunch of times. Still not completely happy with it, but I am learning that at some point you have to publish - before the edits become counter productive
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone