Some quick news before the update: Mango Media Publishing (of A Practical Guide to Evil fame, among many others) reached out months ago, and the time's finally here to announce that they'll be publishing Ten Thousand Tragedies on August 13th. I'll be announcing this on RR as well, but honestly: I'm really excited about this and how far this can go.
Wu Hao's eyes scanned the crowd. The ranks of the public were completely swollen until the throng of people spilled out of the stands, and it was only thanks to the presence of the burly second-grade guards that no one had been pushed into the areas where the fighters alone were allowed to stand. Thousands of eyes were fixed on Wu Hao.
He inhaled deeply, feeling the pressure of being looked at by so many people. It felt like gravity. He had assumed all of those glances were resentful and some were, but now that he had a clue to beating Hua Lixin, he was finally able to appreciate that all of that resentment had been merely in his own head.
They didn't resent him. They didn't even know him. He had convinced himself that there were would be no cheering and so there had not been any that he could have heard.
That felt... good. That same pressure that might have felt crushing once now felt oddly free of worries.
He stepped up to the stage, his steps muffled by the constant susurration of conversation from every spectator. In his hand he held the saber, in his clothes several carved knives were hidden. Wu Hao was ready.
Tai Buzhou blurred into being, began a long speech, and Wu Hao endured it as he had every other time. At least that hadn't changed.
"Hao Wu," Tai Buzhou continued, "The dark horse -"
Wu Hao deactivated the pendant's masking. The disguise bled away into nothingness. He took the pendant down from his neck and shoved it into a pocket that he sealed shut. He didn't need it anymore.
Tai Buzhou's words faltered and stopped entirely. He cast a glance towards someone nearby but was apparently persuaded simply to shut up.
"My name," Wu Hao said, "is Wu Hao."
He focused on Hua Lixin, whose mouth had set into a sort of politely puzzled smile. Wu Hao's saber was raised to point at him now, unwavering.
"Today," Wu Hao continued, "I will take the Jade Orchid for myself."
The crowd murmured to itself in a thousand voices. It wasn't meant to be trash talk, but some definitely interpreted it as such and Wu Hao had said his piece.
Hua Lixin said nothing at all, his grip on his sword not too tight. There was a faint sense of some feeling that Wu Hao had only rarely seen - it ran through Hua Lixin's qi deeply.
It wasn't fear, it wasn't dread, it wasn't pain or anger or desperation or giddiness or even the dizzying sense that he'd seen a few times and which had stabbed him straight in the heart every single time, which he hesitated to put a name on because he'd figured he'd never feel that particular high.
It was nothing else, nothing more, than respect for a worthy opponent.
Wu Hao grinned. In his eyes a series of lines spread out, an immense explosion of possibilities that rushed through his mind. Each and every single one represented a different opportunity to move, to cut, to act.
To win. If he could combine them into a single array.
Tai Buzhou glanced from Wu Hao to Hua Lixin and back, and then he gave up on his speech.
"Begin!" Tai Buzhou roared, and then he was out of Wu Hao's mind again. Wu Hao took the first line that he saw and let qi take him on a blurring step, commanding it not by deciding where to go and how to move and place his feet but simply deciding that that line was the one he'd draw onto the blank canvas of their fight.
They met in a furious clash of steel. Wu Hao's saber had flickered up at some point, the line of his step dipping sideways together with his wrist and exposing newer lines, saber cutting out. Qi roared along the saber even as he moved, the harsh noise of the current snapping into place ringing out.
At the same time, though, Hua Lixin's sword lashed out and the heat blazed around him, wrapping his entire arm in a deep cloak of fire. It clashed against the thunder of Wu Hao's own attack, fire chirping as it met the spark. Wu Hao pushed, not bothering to conserve his qi in the slightest.
Steel shrieked as it tore through the air. Wu Hao could feel his saber straining to keep holding itself together, the fire seeping into its metal and softening it at crucial points. Its edge had begun to glow cherry-red, too, almost a reflection of Hua Lixin's.
Hua Lixin pushed forward with another slash that would've cut Wu Hao's chest open if it had had a chance to actually do so. Wu Hao spun on a line that brought him to Hua Lixin's side, where he responded with a stab that would've perforated Hua Lixin's ribs.
The line of that stab ended abruptly as Hua Lixin forced his sword under Wu Hao's saber, taking the line for his own, but this time Wu Hao let it happen instead of trying to fight it and let the movement flow over him, manifesting another line that he took and which saw him sidestep the slash that Hua Lixin had just unleashed to retaliate with another swirling cut.
And for a while, in that way they were almost evenly matched.
Again, they clashed. Lines manifested over Hua Lixin's body and Wu Hao cut at him with another Tempest Slash, feeling the qi click into place just in time to shear through the edge of Hua Lixin's robes from where he'd spun, and then another line appeared that he took with a single step, blurring past just as Hua Lixin's sword cut through where he'd stood.
Wu Hao whirled around again, using the momentum from his Dragon-Gate Ascending Art to throw himself into a spinning motion. Again, the thunder rushed along his spine and into his saber, which smashed against Hua Lixin's sword with a keening sound. The other boy didn't stumble, but he did narrow his eyes and exhale.
Guided by instincts he couldn't explain Wu Hao forced qi to his feet and threw himself into the air like an arrow shot straight into the sky. Fire singed at his feet as Hua Lixin slashed wildly around him in a swirl of fire qi that burned so hot the air distorted and crackled.
All the same, Hua Lixin's head snapped upwards. With deadly precision, his eyes remained locked on Wu Hao as his sword dipped down and carved through the knife that Wu Hao had just left behind where he'd stood, the product of a line that he'd followed out of mere impulse. Its explosion was prevented by simply carving through the entirety of the steel with a single blow, and afterwards Hua Lixin needed only a single moment to bring his sword back into readiness to cut Wu Hao as he came falling down.
Which, of course, was why Wu Hao didn't plan on falling as intended in the first place. There had been a single line leaning upwards, and there was a single line leading downwards. Forcing just a touch more qi to his feet Wu Hao reoriented himself so that his saber was pointing down towards the earth and his feet were facing to heaven.
Qi came roaring through his veins and Wu Hao roared along with it. Lines blossomed, connecting into the weight-increasing array. The Lightning Bolt came together.
Wu Hao smashed into Hua Lixin like an arrow loosed from heaven, a large circle of stone cracking from the impact alone. Hua Lixin had reacted the smallest possible bit of time too late. His sword swung but missed as the force of the collision pushed him backwards on feet that found no grip able to cancel out the impact. Wu Hao was deep in the other boy's guard, even as they both fought for balance, and he threw himself at every single line he saw and several he didn't.
His saber, now cracked at the edges, buzzed loudly, but it cut gloriously well. Every single stab left pockmarks that Hua Lixin had to pull himself away from, every slash left deep cuts on Hua Lixin's body that began to bleed. Most prized of all, though, was the deep stab wound to Hua Lixin's right arm. It'd have disabled anyone else.
A barrage of blazing heat forced Wu Hao back and he threw himself, panting, off to the side, rolling to his feet, shaking his head, clenching his saber so hard another crack appeared in its guard.
Hua Lixin was staring at him.
For a moment Wu Hao was afraid the other boy might talk again - ruin this fantastic moment - but in the end he simply raised his sword again and pushed himself into another charge that Wu Hao met with a deep grin.
Finally, he thought. At least someone understood.
Their weapons creaked as they smashed into each other once again. This time, though, Hua Lixin was giving it his all. Lines were used as soon as Wu Hao could find them, Hua Lixin taking them over just as quickly, leaving them just barely deadlocked as they slashed out at each other repeatedly.
Then Hua Lixin changed up his grip ever so slightly. Wu Hao had a moment to think oh shit before he was pushed back and before Hua Lixin managed to force his sword inside Wu Hao's guard.
Hua Lixin's eyes gleamed with a certain sense of glory, of a victory that he had earned, and his sword came whistling through the air. It was like the wound to his arm hadn't slowed him down at all, though Wu Hao could read the tendrils of pain in the other boy's qi.
In one smooth movement, Wu Hao pushed more qi to his feet. Instead of catapulting himself back, though - it would be too slow and he'd lose the momentum - he instead pushed forwards, into Hua Lixin's range, and punched that qi that he'd just gathered into one of the thin gauges that he'd been leaving on the floor the entire match.
Qi sparked to life, running like water down a thin channel that he'd carved for this specific purpose. It met a reserve of qi, where the two halves of the knife that Hua Lixin had cut through earlier were laying, supposedly inert.
It wasn't inert, though. It was a trap.
The knife was hit by the charge of qi and exploded, shards raining everywhere. Wu Hao dived forward at the same time, forcing his way through the sudden explosion and ignoring the whistling of metal and wood as it tore through his clothes. Hua Lixin's sword was still trying to block when Wu Hao launched another desperate stab.
This time, it was Hua Lixin who had to draw back.
When he landed from his movement technique, Hua Lixin actually stumbled. Even after recovering he could only stand with a faint limp, and one of his arms hung at his side. Wu Hao had inflicted wounds on him in previous fights, but he'd never seen Hua Lixin like this. He almost seemed rattled.
The treasured sword rose high.
"Congratulations," Hua Lixin said quietly. "You're the first to push me this far."
Qi gathered in massive amounts. All of the qi that Hua Lixin had left gathered into that sword, causing its red fire to burn so hot it turned blue. It built and built, until finally from its tip qi exploded in every direction, growing relentlessly upward.
Once more, the plum tree made its appearance on the stage. Roots appeared out of nothing and tore through the ground to soak up nutrients. A single trunk grew multiple branches which themselves grew buds which turned into blossoms and then into fruit.
"Plum Blossom Sword Art," Hua Lixin roared. "Thousand-Year Blooming!"
The sword came slashing down. In Hua Lixin's eyes, Wu Hao saw only the reflection of that single tree, as if the sword didn't even exist anymore. The qi contained in that single blow could kill him instantly, if he let it.
The crown of the tree didn't matter, large enough to blot out the sun or not. It was another sky, and Wu Hao had decided to cut through. Whether that sky was the red dawn that Father had promised, the golden morning of the Jin, or the sight of the sun slowly setting through the branches of Hua Lixin's chances to win, all were skies.
The world shuddered and warped as Wu Hao stared down the tree fearlessly. His entire field of vision narrowed into a single line, the line of the tree bearing down on him like an enormous hand.
But his saber vibrated in his own hand, reminding him of his own line. His vision widened once more, not because he had let go of his concentration but because he'd strengthened it. He saw dozens, hundreds of lines all gather in front of him, the lines of the array that he'd created through every single clash of sword against saber.
He picked one single line and acted, qi pouring out of him without end.
"Sky Severing Saber Art," Wu Hao recited, holding his saber down in a backwards grip. He pulled, muscles straining as if he was trying to pull up the entirety of the earth along with his saber. "Cloud Cutting!"
He could feel that enormous weight crushing down on his shoulders. He was cutting through all of the roots of the enormous tree before him, severing them one by one. With each jerking, sawing motion he could feel and see that tree shudder, jerk in apparent agony as that which kept it tethered to the ground was ripped away.
Hua Lixin roared something and Wu Hao roared back, both wordless howls of exertion.
Then their weapons met for the final time. There was nothing else except a long flash of light that was bright enough to sear spots into even a martial artist's eyes, but Wu Hao didn't even blink. He had no space to blink, no thought left in his mind, except simply cutting.
Imbued with that single intent his saber cut through. Hua Lixin stiffened across from him, the qi pouring out of him finally faltering. Wu Hao's qi sputtered out at the same time, both of them utterly empty of will to keep going.
As if by muted agreement they turned to looking behind them. Hua Lixin's beloved plum tree bore an enormous cut. The image shimmered, but the enormous furrow that had been carved across its trunk and which might have ripped off its crown didn't fade at all.
Hua Lixin reached out a forlorn, desperate hand towards the tree. His final dregs of qi spiked with a sense of deep, intense loss the likes which Wu Hao hadn't ever felt from him before.
And then, like that tree crashing down after being struck down by a lightning bolt, the monster of the Hua Sect fell to the ground, defeated.