Chương 35: Volume 2 Chapter 8

The duel was scheduled for three hours past noon at Dueling Ground Two, arranged asynchronously through the Outer sect's Martial Hall. Since they were both in the Outer sect and Foundation realm, the baseline wager was set at twenty-five points each. Cao Yunfei had appealed to raise it to a hundred, and Calvin had seen no reason not to oblige him.

Since the duel was scheduled more than two weeks in advance (even if the details hadn't been hammered out fully till the final days) the Hall's usual fifteen point fee was reduced to only ten, meaning the winner would walk away with one-hundred-ninety contribution points. Calvin had also tacked a second condition onto the wager, one that Yunfei had agreed to in a heartbeat.

The loser of the duel would be forbidden from intentionally seeking out Gwen, and would not be permitted to engage with her beyond the bare minimum if otherwise encountered. It was a hard rule to enforce, but if Yunfei tried to bother her in the future, he or Gwen would both be able to report him to the sect and Yunfei would be penalized. It wouldn't do anything if they met outside the sect's territory, but Calvin could break that bridge when he came to it.

Calvin arrived at Dueling Ground Two well over an hour before the prescribed time. It looked much like the last time he'd been there nearly a year ago to watch Lulu defend her ranking against a particularly irritating junior who'd been very vocal in his criticism of her and Wallis's rather public relationship. Lulu had skewered him quite handily at the time and he'd quieted down, but Calvin had heard he was recently climbing up the rankings once again.

A flat, sandy field several times larger than the training ground he rented with his friends stood in a clearing surrounded by rainbow trees, the tall buildings of Outer Village just barely visible in the distance. Surrounding the field was a low wall of blue, yellow, and cream-colored stones, each one polished to a mirror shine and carved with sigils that anchored the formation laid over the field.

Just past the wall a half-ring of tiered seats wrapped the field with room for several thousand spectators, and off to one side stood a large board that was kept up to date with the most recent disciple rankings, announcements, and dueling schedules. The last time Calvin had come here, there had been about two-hundred spectators come to watch Lulu's duel. Today, the seats were even emptier, barely a handful of the prime spots occupied.

He recognized only a single individual—one of Uncle's underlings—and the field was already in use, so he doubted any of them were here for him. Slipping into the stands, Calvin found two disciples he didn't recognize brawling at the center of the field. They fought with only the most basic movements of the Eight Peaks Martial Arts mixed in with the occasional wild kick, punch, or grapple, and neither seemed to be making much headway.

They shouted at one another as they fought, each cursing and decrying the other's character and parentage, and it didn't take long for Calvin to find the source of their conflict. A pretty young disciple with long straw-yellow hair and a beauty mark under her left eye sat primly at the center of the stands, cheeks wet. Her hands were clasped in her lap and her back was stiff as she watched the fight with an unblinking intensity, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Several of the surrounding spectators were periodically shooting her nasty looks, though she seemed oblivious to anything beyond the spectacle before her. From the feel of their flared auras, Calvin guessed it hadn't even been a month since either duelist had broken into the Foundation realm, and this was the first thing they'd decided to waste their qi on? They could have at least spent some time getting used to their new strength and practice utilizing qi techniques in combat. This was just embarrassing.

Floating untethered high above the field was a single Inner disciple, the symbols on her robes marking her as a disciple of Fire Peak. A crystal sphere glowing with golden light floated beside her and she wore a badge bearing the mark of Martial Hall—a sword, spear, and torch crossed over a clenched fist. That would be the current overseer, a Core realm disciple charged with operating the dueling field's formation and ensuring there was no foul play.

For particularly notable duels and the upcoming Outer disciple tournament, the overseer would be an Elder or Hall Master, but their time was far too valuable to waste for something like this. Cries from the audience drew Calvin's attention back to the duel. One of the fighters—svelte and refined with dark eyes and hair—had the other on the back foot, advancing on him with taunting words and hard blows that sent his lanky, red-haired opponent reeling.

"Give it up, carrot-top!" He shouted, sweeping the other boy's legs out from under him and looming over him menacingly.

"You were never good enough for her! You court death, lusting after swan—" With a wild cry, the downed boy pushed himself up and lunged at his opponent, palm extended and a manic look in his eyes.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" he chanted, "Just shut up and die already!" The black haired combatant contemptuously crossed his forearms to block the telegraphed attack, a faint metallic shimmer sheathing his arms from the tips of his fingers to just past his elbows like long gloves. He was braced and positioned to counter immediately, a sharp kick or elbow poised to end the fight in an instant with his foe leaving himself so utterly exposed. But something was wrong.

Calvin leaned forward, instincts pointing out that there was more than foolish, stubborn pride in the redhead's attack. A moment before contact, the young cultivator's aura suddenly spiked, sparks fizzing where his aura clashed with his opponent's. A ring of blazing symbols spiraled into existence around his palm, and there was a sudden deafening boom as his technique struck forward against what was now a laughably insufficient defense.

In the next instant, several things happened in rapid succession, so quickly Calvin's eyes could barely keep up. There was a sharp, gruesome crack as the dark-haired duelist's forearms snapped like twigs beneath a heavy boot, and he was lifted off his feet by the force of the strike.

Less than a heartbeat later a golden barrier flickered into visibility around him, the palm-strike's shockwave parting around it like water off a duck's back, and instead of being hurtled up and back, his momentum vanished as though he'd never been hit at all. Finally, the red-head's aura died like a candle in a hurricane and he collapsed to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut, all his remaining energy spent in a single desperate moment.

It took a moment for the audience (many of them, Calvin suspected, only in the Gathering realm) to register what had happened. Then, his ears were assaulted by a cacophony of shouts and cries. The golden barrier gently deposited the dark haired disciple onto the sand some distance from his unconscious opponent, and he sank down to his knees, teeth clenched and face pale as he stared at the blood flowing down his arms where jagged bone had pierced through the flesh.

The overseer floated down between the two disciples until her feet were only a few feet above the ground. She looked dispassionately between the two fighters—one unconscious, one grievously injured—then touched two fingers to the orb beside her.

"Victory by barrier activation to Hector of Three-Willow Grove," she declared, her voice cutting effortlessly through the din.

"Seconds, please collect your duelists and escort them to Medical Hall. Winnings and updated standings will be available at Martial Hall this evening." Two of the audience members who'd been giving the yellow-haired disciple dirty looks wasted no time in leaping down from the stands and hurrying onto the field.

They pointedly didn't look at one another as they each headed to their respective duelist, one pressing a pill into the mouth of the injured dark-haired boy while the other scooped the redhead up into his arms and rushed away. Calvin watched them go with keen interest. That had certainly been an interesting technique. No doubt it had done some serious damage to his own spirit, but perhaps he'd accounted for that. No sanctioned duel was truly worth crippling yourself over, right?

He cast a sidelong glance at the girl who hadn't moved an inch since the duel concluded, mouth slightly open and eyes wide. He silently wished Hector good luck. Over the next several minutes, the stands emptied until only a tiny handful of people remained. Calvin stayed in his seat, as did the man reporting to Uncle as well as two young women who seemed utterly engaged in their own conversation and had barely even registered the previous duel.

The overseer took a moment to reset the formation around the field, wiping away the blood that had dripped onto the sand and smoothing out the surface where footsteps and techniques had left their marks. Then she settled in to meditate, eyes closed and legs crossed as she floated just a few feet above the sand, her golden orb—the field controls, as well as the source of the dueling barriers—orbiting around her like a luminescent moon.

Her previously hidden aura expanded to blanket the field and stands like a warm breeze tickling his hair. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Calvin was about to do the same when he saw Gwen slip into the clearing and stop, looking furtively about as though not quite sure if she was in the right place.

She glanced at the sign by the path that marked the clearing, then squinted uselessly at the distant display board with its posted schedule, clearly too far away to actually read it. Calvin took pity on her, half-raising a hand and waving it until she noticed (which did take somewhat longer than he'd have preferred). She perked up immediately and hurried towards him, jogging up to the stands with nervous energy brimming in every motion.

As she got closer she slowed to a walk, then a shuffle, repeatedly smoothing down her robes and fidgeting with a small pill bottle, until finally she came to a stop a few steps from where he was sitting. She was wearing a new robe, Calvin couldn't help but notice. Her old one was obviously worn in places, especially around the hem, but this one looked brand new. It also fit her better.

She'd grown somewhat since entering the sect, but had never had it replaced or adjusted, meaning it was a little too tight at the shoulders and the sleeves didn't quite reach her wrists. That was why she typically wore them rolled up. The dress beneath it looked new too. And expensive.

Auburn silk hugged Gwen's hips and chest, and there were small diamond-shaped cutouts on either side of her waist showing patches of creamy skin untouched by the sun that he caught glimpses of as she ran, her open robe flapping around her. It went most of the way down to her knees, but twin slits ran up nearly to her hips to allow her a full range of motion. Calvin wondered when exactly Ariadne had last visited his junior sister.

"Gwen," Calvin called out warmly when it was clear she wasn't coming any closer.

"You're a little early. I didn't think anyone else would be joining me for a good while yet." Then again, this duel was just as important for her as it was for him. Perhaps more so, even. He hadn't told her about the secondary condition he'd agreed to with Yunfei, but it was entirely possible she'd guessed it might be included, or Ariadne had found out and told her. He smiled, doing his best to project confidence and reassurance.

"Thanks for coming. You look wonderful." Gwen blushed, "Thank you, senior brother. I've never come out this way before. I wanted to make sure I didn't end up in the wrong place." She shifted her weight from foot to foot.

"I hope I'm not intruding on your preparations?" she asked hesitantly. Calvin waved dismissively.

"That's alright. I still have plenty of time." With the aid of his new bone marrow, he'd managed to fill his reserves nearly to their ordinary capacity. Outside of preparing for a breakthrough, any more would be as much a hindrance as a benefit. You needed some space in your nodes and channels for qi to circulate smoothly and to quickly use techniques. At least in the Foundation realm, speed and flexibility were worth significantly more in a fight than increasing your reserves by an extra tenth.

He smiled self-deprecatingly.

"I'll admit I'm a little bit earlier than I needed to be too. Didn't want to be late, you know?" He laughed, and Gwen joined in a moment later, though her laughter was stilted.

"That would have been unfortunate, senior brother," she whispered.

"That it would have," he agreed soberly, then brightened.

"Well, it worked out for the best! This way I get to spend some extra time with my favorite adorable junior!" He patted the seat beside him, "Come on, sit, sit. You're going to make me strain my neck, looming over me like that."

"Senior brother!" Gwen exclaimed, cheeks redder than a beet. She looked around, but there was no one else nearby. After a moment, she gingerly sat down on the edge of the bench, brushing her skirt down as she did and pressing her knees together. She stared down at the narrow gap between his leg and hers like there was a snake hiding there ready to bite her the moment she looked away. Calvin bumped his knee against her thigh and she squeaked.

Rolling his eyes, he gently put his hand on her leg and leaned forward, looking down into her eyes.

"Relax Gwen," he told her softly, "Everything is going to be okay." Gwen swallowed heavily and stared down at her lap, not saying anything. He squeezed lightly.

"Do you trust me, Gwen?" he asked. She didn't look up, but she did answer.

"Yes, senior brother."

"Then trust me. Everything is going to be okay." She was quiet for several long moments, long enough that Calvin nearly said something else, but eventually her head dropped forward, chin against her chest.

"But what if you lose? I'll never be able to see you again." Ariadne did sometimes seem to have a way of knowing things she really shouldn't. No doubt there were plenty of disciples in Martial Hall, Mission Hall, and probably every other hall more than happy to tell her anything she wanted to know for a kind word or a flutter of lashes. He'd certainly been more than happy to tell her far more than he'd meant to, and he was pretty sure he was better at dealing with her presence than most of his peers.

There were a lot of things he could have said, but his answer was easy enough.

"That won't happen because I won't lose," he told her plainly. Her response spilled from her lips in a panic.

"But how can you be sure? He's one of the top one-hundred disciples in the Outer sect, and I asked around about his clan! They sell all sorts of pills and manuals and who knows what sort of things they've given him? Anything can happen in a fight, and if you…if you…" she couldn't bring herself to finish, swallowing a choked sob and squeezing her eyes tightly shut. Calvin sighed internally.

"Gwen," he tried, but she didn't seem to hear him.

"Gwen!" he repeated sharply, and this time she did look up at him.

"Look at me," he demanded.

"Do I look like I'm worried? Do I look like I'm scared? Do you think I'm the sort of person to walk into a fight I've known was coming for a whole month without being absolutely certain I'm going to win?" Gwen shook her head, eyes wide.

"No senior brother. No senior brother. No senior brother," she repeated each time.

"I wouldn't have dreamed of letting that buffoon Yunfei put any sort of conditions down unless I was absolutely certain I was going to win. He's been exploiting you like a rented mule, and I'll be damned if I let him do so a moment longer. You're not even in the Foundation realm and you're already ten times the cultivator he'll ever be. Do you understand?"

"Yes, senior brother!"

"Good girl." He patted her on the shoulder.

"Now, sit up straight. I don't want anyone accusing me of bullying such a pretty, talented young junior, hmm?" Gwen looked away but complied, scooting back onto the seat and sitting up straight.

"You're sure you're going to win?" she asked one last time in a small voice.

"I am." And he really was sure. He might have never fought Yunfei himself, nor had Lulu or Wallis, but he hadn't been idle in the time since he'd returned to the sect. Between the three of them––as well as a neatly organized packet delivered to his door in the night that Calvin was pretty sure came from Ariadne, though he hadn't had a chance to confirm or deny as much––they'd managed to find a great deal of information about his opponent's cultivation, techniques, and resources.

There was no doubt he was holding something back, and he'd likely improved at least marginally since his last duel some six weeks ago, but that would not be enough to save him. A few months ago, Calvin would have felt somewhat leery about the results of their duel. A month ago, he'd been confident but wary. Anything could happen in a fight, after all. But now? Yunfei would be like kindling before a bonfire. Gwen finally relaxed. Not fully, her qi still bubbling with agitation and her shoulders tense, but enough.

Calvin deliberately changed the subject.

"So tell me, Gwen. What do you think of those noon-star berry bushes? Was Mei able to answer all of your questions?" Gwen's face lit up with a broad smile.

"Oh they're so cool! Did you know that in the wild, noon-star berry bushes propagate by spontaneous combustion? Of course that's totally impractical if you're growing them near any other herbs, but Mei was telling me––" Over the next hour, more people trickled into the clearing.

Some he knew and expected––Lulu and Wallis, a few of the people they'd spoken to while investigating Yunfei, Ariadne with several of her friends––while others seemed to be associates of Yunfei's or just disciples who'd seen the duel on the schedule and decided to come and watch. Dueling schedules were public information, and there were plenty of disciples who enjoyed watching any interesting matchups between working and cultivating.

His name probably wouldn't have drawn too many eyes on its own, but Yunfei was currently in the top hundred. Yunfei himself arrived some fifteen minutes before the duel was set to start. He sneered at Calvin from across the stands, his scowl deepening when he saw Gwen sitting right beside him, but the presence of Ariadne and Calvin's friends kept him at bay. That was almost a shame.

Calvin would have liked to taunt him before the duel, but there would be plenty of time for that when they stood across from one another in the sand. Finally however, the overseer in the center of the arena moved, her aura vanishing as suddenly as it had appeared. Several people jumped; so used to its presence they'd forgotten it was even there. She straightened up and floated several feet higher above the sand.

"The next match will be starting shortly. Would the duelists Cao Yunfei and Calvin of Six-Swan Pond present themselves?" Calvin stood up, a wave of assurances and well wishes washing over him. In the distance, Cao Yunfei rose as well, his lips stretched into a tight line and his aura already flared. Showtime.