Chương 11: Courting Death, Apparently

I kept a good grip on Yamato's fist, felt the building anger and frustration behind the would-be blow. He was strong, that was undeniable. And the more his fist shuddered in my grasp, the more of that strength I could feel being drawn forth. I narrowed my eyes down at him.

"You have a good swing, boy. Fast too. Unfortunately, I'm not some street punk or scared girl you can slap around." I swung Yamato bodily by the wrist, the boy gasping as he was flung skidding into the middle of the street. I approached him with careful, measured steps, and heard Big Nose and Scar rushing up behind me. Yamato raised a hand, and the two came to a skidding halt.

"I'll deal with this roundeye ape myself," he growled. Good, I thought. He was the kind of idiot who let pride get in the way of practicality. He rushed me with greater force, greater speed, and collided with me like a cannonball. I was surprised to find myself lifted clean off the ground, wind whipping violently around me, and in the span of seconds we had crossed over much of Tiode. I crashed into a patch of rocky land just beyond the entrance of the village, the young punk looming over me.

Violet light blazed in his pupils, and he cocked his fist for a crushing blow. The issue was, being smashed into the ground like that? I barely felt it. My boot struck him in the gut, knocking the wind from Yamato and nearly bowling him over. He staggered, wheezing, toward the looming wooden sign that had 'Tiode' carved in the fancy charcters of the Tsukian alphabet. Yamato got his bearings and jumped away, barely avoiding a punch to the jaw.

His counter was quick, stepping toward me and pummelling my chest with a flurry of blows that sent me staggering back, his fists rotating forward one after the other. Each blow was harder than the last, and I felt the ground vibrate faintly under my feet, and it was just enough to make me grimace.

"Stone Shattering Waterwheel! How do you like that you overgrow-" I backhanded him with enough force to launch him clean off his feet. His body flew clean off the dirt track, several meters toward the untamed greenery, and he struck a tree hard enough to smash a deep dent in the trunk.

"Don't name your attacks." I advanced toward him with slow and measured steps.

"And don't get wrapped up in your own ego." I'd heard tales that eastern wizards were much more 'hands on' in fights than the ones back home. That worked fine by me. It was a chore having to chase them down, fighting through waves of spells and torrents of magicka. If I had to guess, comparatively, this one was about on par with a high-grade apprentice back home. Strong, talented, well educated... but not yet good enough to be let off the leash by his master.

Yamato was on his feet in an instant, credit to him, and seemed barely hurt by such a blow. Even at a distance I could feel the magicka flaring about under his skin. The 'young master' wasn't a complete waste, it seemed. His two allies arrived at the clearing at a sprint, both boys skidding to a halt. But the two stayed back, as he had wished, both looking anxiously at him. None of them had expected this, clearly. And suddenly their 'fun' had gotten a little more dangerous for them.

"You're not entirely without talent, for a foreign cultivator," Yamato said, rising to his full modest height. The illusion was shattered by the flecks of mud that coated his cheeks.

"But... the centuries of knowledge and skill of the Snake Flower Sect pulses through me. I am talent incarnate, the one who shall defy the heavens! You are like an ant attempting to topple a dragon!" I stared at him as a chilly breeze blew in from the sea.

"You really like the sound of your own voice," I said. Well, in that way, eastern and western wizards were entirely alike. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Yamato was behind me in an instant, a hard kick sending me hurtling across the greenery. My back crashed through several trees, slicing clean through them at the trunk or tearing them clean from their moorings by the roots.

"Swipe of the Dragon!" He was on me before I even came to a halt, his heels crashing into me with a thunderous bang that uprooted the ground for several meters us in a heaving tremor. That pulled a small gasp from me, anger and pain making a great blaze briefly swell in my breast. A disdainful, indignant rage that begged to be let loose again. The Wight. I smothered that swell of anger before it could rise. I didn't need the armour, the swords, or even the flame. Not for some jumped up little prick. But...

it was tempting. Yet, if I were to do that... would I ever be able to stop again? That power had been like a drug, early on. Addictive, thrilling, always making me inwardly hunger for more. I'd been armoured in my own hate, and that same anger had kept my mind insulated from my grief. If I got started down that path again... A hard pulse of my body sent Yamato hopping back, the boy wide-eyed from my quick recovery. I rose slowly from the crater, grunted, and spat onto the furrowed earth.

"You're no dragon. Not by half." Yamato snarled and lunged at me, his body a whirlwind of speed that kicked up a great gale of speed. He closed the gap instantly, but I caught his incoming blow by the wrist. And this time I did not let go, my grip like a vice.

"Wh-" My forehead crunched into his nose, and Yamato reeled away screaming. Blood gushed across his upper lip. I could see the shock on his face, his free trembling hand touching the blood. It had perhaps been a while since someone had seriously hurt him like that. Well, every arrogant prick needed a taste of consequences from time to time. And consequences often tasted of the iron tang of blood. Though, by my reckoning, he had only had a sample of the flavour thus far.

He'd need a full course if he was to learn any kind of lesson from all of this. And I was happy to provide. I pulled back my free hand and slapped him across the face, then caught him with a backhand on the opposite cheek. Again and again I struck him on each cheek, the blows snapping his head here and there, kicking up sprays of spit and blood from his lips on every blow. There was a nagging voice somewhere in the back of my mind, telling me to go further.

To stop holding back and slap his head clean from his shoulders for his insolence. By the time I had finished his cheeks were swollen, marked with great red handprints. He reminded me, vaguely, of a jester Novos had been fond of: Redbell. A pudgy fellow who painted his face all red like a tomato.

"I'll warn you, here and now," I said, releasing his wrist and shoving him away.

"I don't want to see you causing trouble in that village ever again. Make no mistake, this humiliation you feel? It's a fucking mercy. I will kill you next time if you give me cause to." The boy stared at me, as if in a daze. I knew his type, humiliation like that was only something he thought possible for people other than himself. To have it visited upon him? Must have been utterly incomprehensible. Then, all at once, that stupid stunned look on his face was replaced with a mask of contorted, teary-eyed rage.

"You BASTARD!" The eruption of his anger was a physical thing, a great whirlwind of magicka that shattered the nearby rocks like panes of glass. The pressurized air drove into me, knocking me back a step, but even through the shimmering haze I could see Yamato's hand reaching for his blade. Dread spiked through me, my mind quickly sensing the sheer volume of magicka he was channelling into the steel. Whatever he was going to do, it would be big. It would be loud.

And gods knew I'd already drawn enough attention already. So I popped him in the jaw. It was a swift, hard punch, but the effect was instant. Yamato's aura died away, his eyes rolling back in his head, and he pitched over like a felled tree and landed unceremoniously in the crater his power had formed. His two underling stared slackjawed down at him while I shook lazily at my knuckles.

"Fucking fool," I uttered.

"You... you just..." Scar looked as if he'd throw up in his shock.

"You made a grave error, outsider! Attacking the young master of our sect! When we tell the grandmaster of this-""You won't," I said, and my sharp glare made the boy's breath catch in his throat.

"Tell your master that their prized pup got his fucking teeth kicked in by a roundeyed ape? Nah. You won't do that. The humiliation, the shame of everyone in your sect knowing that. I reckon your little friend here will think so to, when he wakes up. At most you'll tell 'em some wandering 'cultivator', a total stranger who came and went, was what kicked his arse. You didn't see what he looked like, you did not get a name. Believe me when I say I am not a man you want to cross on this."

The two hesitated, and then suddenly hopped to motion when I hardened my glare at them. They grabbed Yamato from under the armpits and by the ankles and took off, taking great leaps that crossed dozens of meters in a second. All the way toward that looking, icy mountain on the horizon. Alone, I breathed a long and agitated sigh.

"So much for a quiet fucking life," I said to myself.

"One girl in trouble is all it takes for you to nearly ruin everything you worked for? Idiot. Simpleton." It had been a nice dream, while it lasted. And yet... it had been the right thing to do, hadn't it? I liked that girl well enough, she'd always been good to me. What was I to have done instead? Turned a blind eye to it? Slowly, I turned my gaze to the overcast sky. The blaze in my chest died away, reduce to a dull ember.

I hadn't unleashed the Wight, hadn't given into that temptation, and I could take some measure of pride in that at least. How much of all that had people seen? I couldn't shake the sensation that the people of Tiode, some of them at least, had been keeping an eye from their windows. I sucked an angry breath through my teeth. It was possible people would start to spread tales of me, or have questions for me. Or, worst of all, they'd think of me as some kind of hero.

Slowly, with great reluctance, I turned and started stalking back toward the village.

"Fuck."