A few deaths later, Wu Hao had come to realize that this wasn't going the way he'd hoped.
There were two problems with trying to fight Ye Yue, really. He'd had the time to think about it, waiting for the hours to roll around again so that he could try once again.
The first problem was that Ye Yue wasn't just competent. He might have been a prodigy, or a genius, or an extreme talent, or whatever the Wudang Sect called the strongest in their grade.
His defense wasn't impregnable. It could be broken, Wu Hao was certain of that. There was simply no way that it couldn't be broken. But, after three times attempting to maximize the striking power of his single strike, he'd grown absolutely certain that, at least as he was right now, the One Shot Spear Art simply didn't have the right kind of power to do it.
After all, Ye Yue had seen him use the move before. He might not have seen the qi the way that Wu Hao could, but he had definitely guessed the influence of the lightning on the final blow. When Wu Hao struck, Ye Yue had made himself as close to the ground as he could, allowing the thunder of the blow to ground itself onto the stone.
The thunderclap that followed was still an explosion of power, but it just pushed Ye Yue back with his clothing singed, his guard up, and his qi thrown up into a barrier that blocked out most of the impact.
And then Wu Hao was left trying to unpick the tangle that he'd turned his qi circulation into while Ye Yue unfurled himself, praised him for the strength in that blow, and then went on the offensive. He lost soon after.
The second problem was in some way the worst of all: Ye Yue had exquisite reactions and had been well-drilled for most situations.
In other words, when Wu Hao tried a suicidal charge at him, he simply blocked it and looked disappointed.
Which meant no instinctive killing. Which meant that he had to kill himself manually instead to reset. The first time that he'd tried and it failed, it had taken him several hours just to escape the constant barrage of insults, victoriously smug looks, disgust, and worst of all the offers of help, long enough to kill himself.
The last two times he'd just killed himself in the arena, instead of attempting a rush. Easier that way for everyone involved, he figured.
But it did mean that he wasn't going to get any rewards for this entire fiasco. He wanted to use a sword, damnit. Swords were some of the most popular weapons out there. Why was it so difficult to find someone who was willing to use a halfway decent sword martial art to kill him?
In the end, even he had to admit this wasn't going well.
Fuck it, Wu Hao thought. If this wasn't working then it was time he try something different entirely.
This time - the fourth time - he left his spear behind at the waiting area, sinking its point deep into the stone to force it to remain upright. Instead, he pulled out the saber that he'd bought from Steel Alley yesterday. He stepped up the stone stairs into the arena.
There were whispers about why he wasn't using his spear and instead a saber. People mostly seemed confused, rooted in the fact that while there were people who used multiple weapons, usually spear or saber were cultivated as the sole weapons, the centerpieces of an entire style.
But his hand felt natural around the saber's handle, and it wasn't like he cared about what the people around him thought. He had other problems, anyway.
Thin sparks ran up his arms. He was familiar with electricity, now, and this wasn't quite that, so maybe sparks wasn't the right term. It was a sense of potential that made itself apparent, turning a swathe of his arms to goosebumps.
Wu Hao had no clue what that was about, but he'd had it yesterday, too. The shopkeep - one of the rare non-Jin to sell sabers - hadn't said anything, or even seemed to notice.
Ye Yue appeared in his customary blur of robes. Wu Hao had investigated that movement technique, which turned out to be called the Cloud-Ascending Ladder. It was famous as the top movement technique of the Wudang.
Wu Hao had investigated Ye Yue more broadly, too, between the second and third attempts. The boy had been recruited as one of the random new disciples, recommended by an uncle who was a lay disciple himself and who had noticed Ye Yue's natural disposition for thoughtfulness. After that, Ye Yue had enjoyed a rapid rise in competence until he'd become the strongest in his grade.
Despite being a year older than Wu Hao, he was only a little taller than Wu Hao. Any day now Wu Hao would get to enjoy his growth spurt and then he'd be taller than Ye Yue, which he'd also enjoy very much.
He was handsome, Wu Hao allowed. He had long black hair and fine eyebrows, giving him a generally refined look.
"You do not use a spear against me?" Ye Yue asked, his voice calm. His qi gave away his surprise, though.
Wu Hao had learned not to reply.
He was still too busy trying to figure out what he was feeling. It felt like pure potential, like the moment that he'd grasped the saber his mind had opened up somehow. It wasn't quite a new way of seeing things but he felt like he had become more of himself, somehow.
There was no wind around him, no storm to ride. That much was obvious.
Nonetheless, if he really tried, he felt that he could catch the wind. There was no physical storm, but he could feel currents anyway. There was no storm outside.
That felt important, so he mentally repeated it. There was no storm outside. Something buzzed inside of him and tapered off as he thought that, as if expecting an answer to that even though there'd been no real question, just an observation.
Wrapped in his thoughts he didn't respond to Ye Yue's statement, and Tai Buzhou glanced back and forth before raising his hand.
"Begin!" he roared when it was clear no conversation was forthcoming.
Wu Hao wrenched himself free of his thoughts and raised his saber, settling into a ready stance.
His qi responded so eagerly to his call that even he was almost taken aback. In mere instants he had completed the initial loop that he'd aimed for, with less wastage than he'd ever had before. He shook the thought off - happy coincidence, maybe - and allowed himself to sink into a waiting pose, ready for whatever the other was about to bring.
Ye Yue stood, staring at him, equally ready to react. Silence hung over the arena as both of them waited for the other to make a move.
The one who broke the stalemate was Wu Hao, rushing forward when the itch betwween his shoulder blades had become too much to repress. His qi soared up to his saber and snapped out angrily before its first buzz caught the air.
As with the previous fights against Ye Yue, the reaction was instantaneous. His sword moved achingly slowly but reached its stopping point at the exact right time.
The saber crashed into Ye Yue's sword with a loud clang. Teeth of thunder rasped against the steel and - unlike other fights Wu Hao had had - couldn't manage to leave a mark. Ye Yue kept both hands on his sword and raised it again, even as Wu Hao spun around and pulled the saber back.
Slashes rained down. Wu Hao didn't hold anything back - he just let the saber go according to the patterns that had been always described by the art. The Tempest Slash cut from up to down. He pushed further against Ye Yue, whose face was impassive as he blocked or warded off every single blow in the series of blows. It was as if Ye Yue was the one who had returned from the future, with how easily he was reading Wu Hao's moves. He was whispering a chant under his breath with every movement, a chant that Wu Hao had never tried to make sense of.
Ye Yue pushed out, interrupting another slash with an impeccable block that sent Wu Hao's saber skittering, screeching off to the side. Ye Yue launched a kick that Wu Hao couldn't dodge, which pushed him back, saber flailing.
Then the boy from the Wudang pushed his attack further, switching seamlessly from defense to attack. Suddenly, whereas his movements had been soft and elegant, now they were brutal and stalwart, sword carving out parts of the air in a sequence of stabs, slashes and thrusts that could have taken Wu Hao's life if he hadn't forced himself to ride the wind and vanish backwards into a blur of movement.
The sword pointed at him still, unwavering. Ye Yue's face was still impassive, despite that fevered spree of breathless attacks.
"Good," Ye Yue said, breathing slightly deeper than he had previous. "Your saber art is good, but it isn't good enough. I apologize for thinking you weren't taking this seriously."
Wu Hao breathed in, feeling the faint sting of every single one of the blocked blows, the minor cuts from the barrage of blows. This was what he meant by Ye Yue talking way too much.
Anger and some shame rose within him, and whereas before he'd have rejected it if he was still wielding the spear, that same potential energy that had possessed him now took hold of that anger and whispered in his ear.
Why stick to the same old saber paths? It wasn't working. Why not try something new?
He breathed out and then in again, before he raised his saber.
Wu Hao exploded into movement, allowing the qi he'd been storing in his feet to send him rushing forward in his bastardized movement technique. He'd never caught Ye Yue off guard before with speed, but something was helping him now, some undefined impulse.
Ye Yue's sword drifted slowly up and interspersed itself exactly where Wu Hao's saber had aimed, fouling the thrust. The sword pushed up and Wu Hao's saber naturally followed along with it, the steel carrying him along. With the saber out of the way, Ye Yue's hands shifted along the hilt of his beautiful sword, ready to drive it down and score a glancing wound on Wu Hao's ribs.
In that frozen instant Wu Hao somehow felt something click. He didn't have any of the standard movements ready for the Storm-Cutting Saber to function. His wrist wasn't set properly, the grip on the saber was loose, he hadn't yet fixed the qi loop back into place from his previous attack.
But a new line was blinking in his vision, a string of silk that was a deep red that he somehow knew no one else could see. Forcing his muscles to follow along with this sudden whim he leaned forward and tried to follow that line. Qi bubbled up naturally from his core and flashed down his meridians, looping itself as if it had a mind of its own.
Without conscious effort, the saber accelerated until it was nothing but a blur in his eyes, cutting through the instant between Ye Yue's guard shifting into attack. It cut out, edge flashing past Ye Yue's sword, and landed a thin cut along his arm.
Wu Hao blinked. So did Ye Yue, his impassive face shifting into deep surprise as he registered what had just happened. Neither of them attacked for a breath of time.
But then Wu Hao felt a laugh bubbling up.
Because now Wu Hao had his answer as to what had happened, a realization that had condensed all the time he'd been trying to figure it out. The Sky-Severing Saber Art had augmented the Storm-Cutting Saber Art, making it into something much more. The barrier between the Sky-grade techniques and the Heaven-grade techniques were that one was movement to manifest intent, whereas the other was intent which manifested as movement. How could the two be compared?
Wu Hao laughed, caught on the eddies of something greater than himself. His saber rushed out as if it was a living thing, its tip rushing back along one of the lines that he'd seen. He followed it slightly more accurately this time, allowing himself to just move naturally.
He simply let the qi flow. By all means he should push it in place and click the loop into readiness before he'd even begun to move, but that was so inefficient that he wondered why he'd ever bothered.
Ye Yue's sword began to raise, then fixed itself in place as he prepared to block the obvious thrust.
Then the saber tracked a spiralling cut up his shoulder, the edge licking the shoulderpad that Ye Yue wore. It left another cut that began to swell with blood.
There was no blinking, now. Ye Yue's qi gained a grim edge, his jaw setting into a determined look.
"Very good," he said. There was no trace of grudge in his admiration.
In all honesty, Wu Hao had no idea what the lines even were. Some sort of principle, he supposed. The name or the idea didn't matter, so long as he could still follow the advice they were whispering in his ears.
Again he struck out, his saber humming at an angle. This time Ye Yue didn't try to block ahead of time by predicting the blow, but instead his eyes blazed with qi as he activated some sort of vision technique that caused his green eyes to bleed into a deep black.
Wu Hao's saber smashed into the other boy's sword, and though it was a hasty block it was still a block. The saber didn't manage a cut this time.
Ye Yue's qi spoke of a small, quiet satisfaction. Despite the lines suggesting it wasn't necessary, Wu Hao's grip on the saber tightened.
Qi surged up from his core. Wu Hao threw another harsh cut out, his saber dipping to the side and down as if he was aiming for another line. The one that he'd seen pulsed in the side of his vision, but he could ignore it, with a slight grimace at the pain that doing so produced in his skull.
Again, Ye Yue's eyes tracked the saber unfailingly. The grim cast to his jaw began to fade slightly as his footing returned to rock-solid stability.
Then Wu Hao whirled around, abandoning the feint that he'd just unleashed. Ye Yue's eyes tracked Wu Hao's movement as he spun, gathering the qi that he hadn't used just now and instead allowing it to flow into a tighter loop for this technique than he'd managed before.
"Storm-Cutting Saber," Wu Hao said quietly, with his back still turned. A new line - one that he had created himself, not one that had been presented him - appeared in the side of his vision.
Ye Yue's sword moved hesitantly, his confidence gone again, and Wu Hao spoke the last part of his technique. "Heart of the Storm."
The saber cut through the surrounding space with a loud keening whistle of unmistakenable power. Ye Yue barely had the time to let his shock show before Wu Hao's saber had swept through the other boy's guard, ripping through the cloth on his arms and leaving cuts that ran almost to the bone, before the line continued and ran past Ye Yue's face as if his guard wasn't even there.
Wu Hao followed it and, feeling that same rush of resistance as he cut, growled something and stepped back.
No blood began to seep from where Wu Hao had just dealt a blow mighty enough to cleave a lesser man in two. There was a whoosh of something crackling beneath Ye Yue's shirt.
As he'd suspected.
Another treasure, maybe. Wu Hao didn't have any like that.
What would be the point, anyway? Saving his life? It would be a colossal waste of money, considering his resurrections.
He raised the saber again, suddenly and uncomfortably aware of how much qi that had just cost him. Enough for another blow like that, no. Enough for several more blows unlike that, yes. He set his feet properly, studying the line that had appeared in his vision. With the left arm taken out of commission, there was every chance that his opponent would be somewhat disabled. He could cut -
"I yield."
Ye Yue's voice wasn't quiet, but it was insistent and without apparent rancor.
Wu Hao stood there, his saber still raised, not quite sure what to do now.
"What?" he managed.
"I yield," Ye Yue repeated. Looking rather pale, holding his face up high despite the bleeding wounds on his arm, he bowed deeply. "Well done, Hao Wu. You have bested me."
There was a stunned beat of silence before the stands exploded in noise. Whispers, shouts, even booing. Ignoring them all, Wu Hao just let his saber sink, looking Ye Yue in the eye.
"Fuck," he said, summarizing his feelings on the situation, turned, and stomped off the stage before Tai Buzhou had managed to gather his jaw off the floor.