Chương 6

Chao Wei crossed the distance between them in a single stride. His foot struck the platform with a thunderclap, sharp and sudden, loud enough to make the spectators flinch. Like an iron ball on a chain, his fist swept out in a wide arc aimed at Lodin's temple, and lightning qi streaked behind his knuckles like the tail of a comet. Lodin bent his knees and dropped below the punch. He shifted his weight onto his lead foot as his head dipped just low enough for Chao Wei's fist to whistle by.

Thunder rolled through his skull regardless, and the heat of the lightning prickled against his skin. Chao Wei did not pause. His torso twisted and his arm whipped around in a backfist. Lodin pulled his head back, feet planted, and the knuckles passed an inch from his nose. Before he could reset, Chao Wei launched himself into a double wheel kick. Both feet whipped through the space where Lodin's head had been and there were two thunderclaps, one for each foot. Lodin stepped back, out of range.

Chao Wei landed in a deep stance, knees bent, weight low. His eyes blazed with qi. But he did not linger in that stance. He dropped into a long sweep, leg extended, his foot a scythe aimed at Lodin's ankles. Lodin sprang over it. The sweep carried into an upward wheel kick aimed at his jaw. Lodin leaned back and the heel passed an inch from his chin, close enough to feel the displaced air on his throat. The kick carried into a dramatic uppercut, Chao Wei hurled his whole body behind the punch.

Lodin swayed to the side and the fist cut through empty air, lightning arcing from Wei's knuckles and left spots in his vision. Every transition was smooth, drilled, not improvised. Chao Wei advanced with a cross-step and drove a hammerfist down at Lodin's collarbone. Lodin caught it on his forearm and the impact shuddered through the bone. He snapped a backfist at Chao Wei's face, a quick shot meant to break his rhythm. Chao Wei batted it aside and dropped low for another sweep. Lodin hopped it.

Ducked a wheel kick to the head. Leaned left to slip a right uppercut, then right to slip a left uppercut. This man did not stop. Each technique flowed into the next, circles within circles, an endless chain of sweeps and kicks and circular punches. Every strike rumbled with thunder, crackled with lightning. The air smelled of ozone and sweat. Chao Wei's fists and feet moved like the current of a deep, wild river. Lodin gave him all the ground he needed.

Step by step he retreated across the platform, and Chao Wei pursued. The crowd held its breath. The only sounds were the thunder of Chao Wei's strikes and the scrape of feet on concrete. Another sweep, another wheel kick, another uppercut. Lodin evaded them all, but the margin grew thinner with each exchange. Chao Wei read him, adjusted his angles, cut off the lines of retreat. If Lodin kept this up, he would run out of platform. Lodin watched the chain. Every technique flowed into the next, but there were seams.

Moments between movements where Chao Wei was committed, where one circle had to complete before the next could begin. He had been giving ground, letting Chao Wei come, reading the rhythm. Now he knew where to strike to take him apart. Chao Wei threw a looping overhand, lightning crackling along his knuckles. Lodin stepped inside and jabbed, not at his face but at his bicep, just above the elbow. Knuckle met bone at the joint and the overhand died before it could build power, the arc disrupted at its root.

He turned for a wheel kick and Lodin saw the hip rotate, saw the leg chamber, and came straight in before it could extend. He crowded the kick, smothered it, and drove a tight uppercut into Chao Wei's midsection. His fist sank into flesh that felt like packed earth. The iron gut was not a metaphor. Lodin felt the impact shudder up his arm, felt the dense muscle beneath the skin compress and hold. Thunder cracked but the kick had no room to land.

Chao Wei's heel scraped against Lodin's shoulder as the leg came around, robbed of its power. Chao Wei grunted. His feet scraped the concrete as he took a step back. The first ground he had given up. The crowd stirred. Someone let out a gasp. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Chao Wei dropped into his deep stance and launched another chain. Sweep, wheel kick, uppercut, spinning backfist.

The thunder rolled and the lightning crackled and the circles spun one into the next. Lodin watched for those seams, the breaks, punctuation marks. He let the sweep pass beneath him. He slipped the wheel kick. And when the uppercut came, he was already inside it, already past the arc, his left hook buried in Chao Wei's ribs. It hit hard enough to stagger him. Dense muscle and bone flexed beneath Lodin's knuckles. Chao Wei's breath left him in a sharp grunt. Chao Wei stood where he was.

His chest heaved, his eyes burned, but for the moment he chose not to advance. The crowd had gone quiet again. Wei's four Divine Gale comrades stood at the perimeter of the arena, still as statues, their gazes intense. Their expressions told Lodin this was not the show they'd anticipated. Lodin could have followed Chao Wei as Chao Wei had followed him. But he wanted to see what came next, to know if the chief outer disciple of the Divine Gale Sect could adapt. Chao Wei rolled his shoulders.

He looked at Lodin with new eyes now. The rage still burned there, but calculation had joined it.

"You only attack with your hands," he said. Lodin shrugged.

"It's my style."

"I see." Chao Wei planted his feet with such force that the concrete shook beneath him. His punch flew straight, aimed at the center of Lodin's chest. His whole body turned behind it, hip and shoulder and fist aligned, and thunder cracked as the blow cut through the air. Lodin moved off that punch, to the left, and as it passed his ribs he answered with a backfist to Wei's face.

Chao Wei took the strike on the forehead, flinched as the impact made dust jump from the floor, but he shook it off and threw another straight. This time Lodin slipped right. His hook found Chao Wei's ribs, a clean shot, the kind that dropped most men. Wei grunted like a bull, and his feet did not move. Excitement kindled in Lodin's chest. He'd have to hit a little harder. Chao Wei's leg came around in a turning side kick, and Lodin checked it shin to shin, answered with a crisp right cross.

Chao Wei took it on the jaw, head snapped to the side but his feet still rooted firmly to the ground. He glared, and his retort was a slashing elbow aimed at Lodin's temple. Lodin pulled back and felt the wind of it graze his chin. Close. He threw another jab to buy space, but he was grinning now. Chao Wei walked through it and threw another straight. The rhythm had changed. This was a conversation now, call and response, statement and answer.

The crowd could follow it, their heads turned from one fighter to the other. At the peak of Foundation Building they were still moving at speeds the mundane eye could see. Chao Wei threw a front kick at Lodin's midsection. Lodin stepped off the line, let it pass, and threw a hook. Chao Wei blocked it on his forearm and answered with a hammerfist. Lodin caught it on his shoulder and felt the weight press him down. He pushed off and threw an uppercut. Chao Wei took it on the chin with another grunt and kept coming.

Lodin stopped giving ground. Chao Wei stood before him, bloodied but unbroken. His guard was up. His feet were planted. The fire in his eyes had not dimmed. Most men would have folded by now. The ribs, the jaw, the body shots that found the liver, any one of those should have been enough. But Chao Wei kept coming, adapting, learning, and most importantly, refusing to quit. Eagerness coiled in Lodin's arms. The excitement from earlier sharpened into hunger. He knew what would happen if he let his hands go.

But he wanted to see how much more the chief outer disciple of the Divine Gale Sect could take. Chao Wei had acquitted himself well. He'd earned that much. Lodin's fists flew. The first punch landed before Chao Wei could react, a jab that snapped his head back. The second landed before the first had finished, a hook that dug into his ribs. The third caught him on the temple. The fourth found his solar plexus.

The fifth, the sixth, the seventh, they came in a torrent, a hailstorm of knuckles that blurred the air between them. Thirty punches landed in the blink of an eye. Chao Wei's arms came up, he tucked his chin, hunched his shoulders, covered his head and body with forearms and elbows. The punches hammered against his guard like rain on a tin roof, a rolling thunder of impacts that shook his bones and rattled his teeth. He could not see them but Lodin could tell he was trying.

Those eyes strained to track the blur of motion before him, but Lodin's arms had trailed afterimages that overlapped and blended together to create the illusion of a wall of fists. The crowd had gone silent. Someone in the benches rose to their feet. Someone else whispered something that might have been a prayer or a curse. Lodin's fists found all of the gaps in Chao Wei's guard at the same time. A jab slipped between his forearms and caught him on the nose.

A hook came around his elbow and dug into his floating rib. An uppercut rose from below and clipped his chin. Chao Wei backpedaled, and Lodin gave chase. The punches came from every angle now, high and low, left and right, straight shots and looping hooks and tight uppercuts that all struck together, like he'd grown a dozen extra arms. Chao Wei's arms burned red from blocking. His shoulders sagged from the effort of holding his guard against this siege.

Sweat poured down his face and mingled with the blood from his nose. Lodin watched Chao Wei's guard start to fail. The man's arms dropped lower with each impact. A hook caught his ear. A jab split his lip. A hard body shot folded him forward and left him gasping. Then something changed. Chao Wei stopped retreating. His feet planted on the concrete and stayed there. Punches landed and he did not move. His spine straightened, his shoulders squared, and his chin came up even as Lodin's fists hammered into him.

His eyes had gone distant. There was wonder in that stare. It was the look of a man who had just glimpsed a horizon he knew existed in theory, but had never seen in living color. The lightning around him flared. It had crackled before, sparked and snapped with each strike. Now it rolled off him in sheets, brighter and wilder than it had been a moment ago. The rhythm of it no longer matched his movements. It seemed to come from somewhere deeper. Lodin's next punch landed flush on Chao Wei's jaw.

The impact felt different. Denser. He threw another and another, and the result was the same. Chao Wei's head rocked back but his feet did not shift. His eyes stayed distant, fixed on something Lodin could not see. Lodin hadn't seen such a look before in person, but he knew well enough what it meant. He felt a small pang of jealousy about it. In all likelihood it was something he and Lorn would never get to experience for themselves. Chao Wei was breaking through.