BOC AU: Chapter 28: What is Victory? |
Bailu was out of her seat and dashing down the halls as soon as her Captain exited the arena. Bi De clung to her shoulder, the bird’s chest feathers all puffed up with pride, and a smug look on his beak. Seiyu was right behind them, Ningjing sticking up out of Seiyu’s cleavage. The little avatar was whistling and projecting feelings of pride and amazement to them.
“Yeah, he slapped that meanie’s face good, didn’t he?” Bailu asked, smirking.
Ningjing whistled again, raising her little arms. Slap meanie! Good!
“As expected of our Captain!” Seiyu declared, nodding with little mm, mmm! sounds. “In adversity is when he truly shines!”
It was true. Against an opponent a Realm above him he had fought with grace and skill—while still keeping some of his abilities secret for his next fight against the opponent he had been planning for from the beginning.
Bailu had been surprised about their Captain's views on tournaments. It was… pure. Some would call it naive.
And yet… it was a beautiful view of why they fought. Every opponent that had greeted their captain with honour and respect had it returned to them. He did his best to fight them at their strengths, so that they both would gain something, instead of smashing a lesser foe out of the way and leaving them in a tangle of broken limbs.
Well, almost all of them. The one unfortunate who used a movement technique and crashed into their captain was simply unlucky, and even then he wasn’t too badly hurt.
The roar of the crowd receded behind them. Her Captain had done so well! Ah, she knew his debut would go fantastically, it was only natural, and he was already at the finals!
“Captain!” Bailu cheered, grabbing her captain in a hug. She meant to praise him, but paused when his legs abruptly wobbled, and she transitioned to holding him up.
“Aruji, daijoubu?!” Seiyu asked in a panic, having been just about to hug him too. She was practically jogging in place, her hands clasped as she flitted around him. It was kinda cute.
Bi De and Ningjing also crowded around, making cooing and whistling noises respectively.
“Sorry. I ended up getting too into it and doing something dumb,” he replied, a guilty smile on his face. Bailu examined him more closely.
In addition to his shredded knuckles, he also had hairline fractures throughout his arms and his legs.
Clearly painful, but…
“Don't worry captain, we'll have you right as rain in a couple of hours,” Bailu decreed, relieved that it wasn't anything serious. His Qi had a slight tremor, and he had a lot of yang energy within him from that final attack… but nothing some meditation could not fix.
Rou chuckled, leaning on them both.
The final match would be in three days. The tournament organizers had extended things… mostly to prepare for the massive increase in viewers. They hadn’t been prepared for this to be so popular.
==============
They got him into the medical bath as soon as they could. Bailu had gotten the good stuff, too. Only the best for their boss, even though it had been kinda expensive. Their Captain only gave mild objections to Seiyu when she stripped down and began washing his back. Bailu kept the water at the perfect temperature, while Seiyu's qi circulated inside of him, wicking away the excess yang so it wouldn't hurt him.
It was technically dual cultivation, but Seiyu managed to not make it weird this time, despite the fact that she was naked. But that was more a Wa thing. Seiyu seemed to take it as a personal insult when people didn't get completely naked for bathing. She said it was disrespectful to the Cai Mei? Kami? Yeah, Kami!
His Qi settled, his bones healed without a trace of the damage… and like they said, he was back in top condition after a pill to help replenish himself.
They didn't talk about the odds of victory, or defeat. They simply prepared, focusing it all on the moment.
Hopefully, it would be the excellent fight he wanted against Daoyi. She had high hopes! He seemed like a good sort!
====================
Daoyi had been meditating, focusing himself, and replaying every fight he had witnessed with Rou in his head when he was called out of his meditation by Kuang.
A spike of irritation flared, but his friend looked apologetic.
“It is your Lord Father, Young Master,” he said. “He requires your presence.”
Daoyi sighed internally, and stood. He quickly examined his appearance, making sure not a hair was out of place. His robes were spotless.
His father was rather… insistent on what a noble should be.
Then, he went out to meet him in the tea room of this manse.
“My Lord Father, welcome. I thought you were busy,” Liang Daoyi said, bowing deeply before the man.
His cultivation, in the Second Stage of the Sky Realm, pressed down on Daoyi’s shoulders.
That he was only there, instead of in the Imperial Realm, was one one of the sect’s greatest shames. It was a representation of how far they had fallen, and it weighed on his father heavily.
“I made time, after I heard what was about to occur,” came the blunt reply. He had just left Daoyi to win the tournament and gain merit, saying it was worthless to watch what was already a decided outcome, and had gone to cultivate himself. “You face Tianzhe Rou in the next bout. The son of Tianzhe Minyan?”
“Yes. I was preparing myself to face him,” Daoyi replied, and tried to not let the eagerness show.
Father’s lip curled. “Preparing yourself to face one a Realm below you…” he looked repulsed for a moment, before his eyes narrowed. “Do not allow the humiliation that was placed upon the Heavenly Descent Sect to fall upon you, Liang Daoyi.”
“I shall endeavor to achieve victory, as I always have,” Daoyi replied.
“You must not just win. You must crush him. You will defeat him utterly,” his father declared. Daoyi paused, then his eyes widened when he realised exactly what his father was telling him to do. “I hear you have been friendly with the boy, but that is irrelevant. A true cultivator suffers no rivals. He stands alone at the top of a heavenly pillar, while the rabble below can only stare up in awe.”
“You want me to provoke Soaring Heaven’s Isle?” Daoyi asked, raising a brow.
“Make it look like an accident. We cannot challenge the might of those frigid witches yet. But we will in time. The Heavenly Pillar Sect’s rightful place is at the top of the world. You will deliver it there again, and stand at the pinnacle. This is our birthright.” Daoyi wished to protest… before he realised it would not change anything. “Go back to your training. I will be present at your next bout, to watch the return of our sect’s prestige.”
His father turned in clear dismissal, and Daoyi knew better than to argue. His father simply turned, a small smile on his face, clearly imagining what would happen tomorrow.
Daoyi walked to his meditation chamber, his mind whirling. He had been given an order by his father. The lessons of Confucius were clear. He should obey his father, as he always had.
Liang Daoyi was loyal and filial. For his cultivation, for his sect, he had always been obedient.
Crush him and make it look like an accident. Suffer no rivals, and stand alone atop the sky.
He saw Rou’s eager grin… but more than that, the hope. The hope in the other man’s eyes that he could give Daoyi a good challenge, and help him improve.
Finally, when he had found something interesting, he was supposed to just crush it and move on?
…that sounded so boring.
Liang Daoyi’s lip curled into a sneer.
Instead of leveraging a friendship to gain access to the shipping routes of Soaring Heaven's Isle, instead of gathering power that way, instead of cultivating something useful, he was told to crush someone for the pride of who they once were.
Pathetic. Shortsighted. Idiotic.
Rou had been right. His father did everything because of the past, and refused to live in the present. He tried to tread their old path, instead of forging a new one.
Daoyi refused to be such a fool.
==================================
The day of the finals dawned, and the entire capital seemed like it was electrified. People swarmed off boats in the harbour. They came in carts by the thousands. They came on flying swords.
Every stadium was filled. Every square that could be outfitted with a receiver for transmissions was packed. Rivers of gamblers flowed into the betting halls, and the bookies drooled at the titanic cut they would be taking.
The tournament had captured the capital’s imagination. Great posters of Liang Daoyi and Tianzhe Rou stood opposite one another. Vendors hawked dolls and fans—one with a deer, and another with a spear, pointing towards the heavens.
It was a city divided. People waved their allegiance at each other, and some gatherings even devolved into fist fights.
It had been ages since this kind of excitement had gripped the capital so thoroughly.
And then… it was time to begin. The crystal screens and formation-wrought projections flickered on. The crowds all lowered their heads as the blazing eyes of Tenth Princess Yunxi burned from her royal box, the rest of her body in shadow.
“Long live the Emperor! Long live the Emperor! Long live the Emperor!" the city roared, as the princess declared the final day of the tournament.
================================
“And we command the two combatants to fight with honour!” the voice of the Tenth Princess finished.
The crowd was deafening, as always, but Daoyi paid it no mind. He simply walked out onto the field. The gazes pressed into his back. His father glared from his box, situated to the right of the Imperial box.
These gazes, too, Daoyi ignored.
Rou was smiling. His eyes were focused, and as always there was not even a drop of malice within. He was focused completely on Daoyi, his intent and the pressure from him palpable from here. They approached one another, their paces easy, until they were close. At arm’s length at most.
The tension from the crowds ratched up, the people curious if they were about to start fighting before the official gong.
“Are you fully healed?” Daoyi asked Rou.
Rou nodded, showing the pristine skin on his knuckles, and his unwavering Qi. “Yeah. I’m one hundred percent. I’m a bit more concerned about you, though.”
“Oh?” Daoyi asked, intrigued.
“Unlike me, you never got a proper warm up,” Rou said with a cheeky smile.
Daoyi snorted at the joke. “Hmmm. Do I really need one?” he teased back, unlimbering his spear, a treasure of his sect. Celestial Fulcrum shuddered, matching Daoyi’s own anticipation.
The crowd faded completely.
Rou gasped in mock offense. “Well, we’ll just have to see, huh? I might even go all out from the start.”
“I think you’ll need to,” Daoyi challenged again. “Let’s see what you were holding back, hmm?”
Rou laughed, bright and clear, and then raised a fist. “Let’s see how far we can go,” he said, his voice serious. Daoyi, after a second, realised what Rou wanted him to do.
His own fist raised, and bumped against Rou’s. “To the heavens,” Daoyi replied.
The crowd roared, as both of them turned, and walked back to the traditional starting positions, and bowed to the Imperial box. The announcer was screaming about sportsmanship, and Daoyi's father’s gaze bored into him. He spared a glance at the confusion, before dismissing it.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
He focused himself. There was only one thing that mattered right now.
Rou, standing across from him.
He raised his spear, ready.
The gong sounded.
Rou began the match by instantly using his movement technique. The air protested. The ground shuddered. His speed was astounding, his intent pure and clear.
Daoyi was disappointed,. As far as an opening move went, it was substandard. He had seen it used too often. He activated his own movement technique, [Coursing Through the Clouds] to reposition to the optimal location. As soon as Rou slowed down, slightly off balance like he had been for the five seconds he had been in the previous matches, Daoyi would punish him.
Rou’s foot touched the ground.
Daoyi barely got his spear up in time to block the titanic blow, and even then his arms rattled. The sheer force of it was absurd. It was like he had been hit by a mountain.
Daoyi instantly realised he had been a fool. Rou moved again, without a hint of the hesitation he had shown before. This entire time, this entire tournament, it had been a trick, a ruse, and Daoyi had fallen for it.
Rou’s foot touched the ground again.
The third blow was a knee strike. Celestial Fulcrum, still shaking, was out of position. The knee drove it further out of position.
Rou’s foot touched the ground. Daoyi saw it for an instant. Rou’s entire body froze, before he moved again.
A fist buried itself into Daoyi’s cheek. His head snapped to the side. Again, the blow hit with titanic force.
Rou’s foot stomped down. For the instant he froze, Celestial Fulcrum whipped around, the haft striking his foe’s ribs, trying to get some distance.
Yet the strike did nothing. It was as if Rou, for that instant, was completely immovable. There was an instant of a grimace, but Rou’s arms were already pulled back, his hands curved into antlers.
[Ten Peaks—Pierce the Clouds]
The strike which had crushed Wei Huojian’s ribs and defeated him in a single blow smashed into Daoyi’s own chest.
He was blown backwards from the force, flipping in the air, and landed with a skid. His breath came out in gasps and his chest heaved—with excitement.
Liang Daoyi laughed, his voice cutting through the roar of the crowds. Rou smiled at him, having won the first bout.
“You good, Daoyi?” he asked.
“I am excellent,” Daoyi said, rising back up to his full height. His concentration had faltered, and the front of his robes had been shredded by the force of the impact.
But all this had done was make his blood, once moving so sluggishly, thunder in his veins.
He reached up and pulled the rags off his body. He exposed his chest to the air, and the ten small red marks on his chest. “Thank you for allowing me to warm up.” Rou chuckled and let out a breath, getting back into his stance. “But really, that kind of trick… how wonderful. Tell me, how many times can you perform that technique in succession?” Daoyi asked, his eyes fixed on his foe.
“No idea. Keep count for me?” Rou asked.
Daoyi laughed. “Naturally.”
Rou exploded into motion again, and Daoyi matched him.
============================
The crowd started shouting and cheering, the volume deafening. The two men were reduced to blurs. The air roared with their impacts, the ground trembled. The shockwaves struck the barriers. They were visible for only brief moments when they would unleash a combination of slower exchanges on each other, before exploding into motion again.
Every competitor in the stands who had fought Rou just stared blankly at the fight. Sima Yichen gaped, realising he had never had a chance in the first place.
The roars rose, as the first minute passed.
They continued through the second and third. But at the fifth, the fervour and chaos of the audience started to wane. The cheers started to die down.
The battle did not stop, and instead seemed to be going faster.
By the time the tenth minute passed, there was only awed silence from the entire arena. Even the rowdy Soaring Heaven’s Isle box was mute with appreciation.
And then the two men simply kept fighting.
==========================
One. two. Four. ten. Twenty. fifty—Rou had no limit. As long as his feet hit the ground, and he could freeze for a moment, he could chain his movement technique for as long as he wished. The expense of his Qi seemed miniscule for the effect—it was a movement technique that Daoyi knew had few equals.
The freezes remained consistent, but while he was frozen, his body was unable to be moved. He had struck Rou fifty-seven times and each one had done perhaps a fraction of the damage it should have while he was in his frozen state. A defensive technique as well as an offensive one.
When he paused, it was useless to attack him, so Daoyi had to strike while he was moving. His strikes nicked cloth. They drew thin lines. But Rou was ever cognizant of his spear, and always sought to be inside its effective range, negating the advantage in reach as much as he could—and even if any of his opponents could have gotten in this close, none of them could have stayed here for longer than a fraction of a second. He would have thrown them away in an instant… but Rou persisted. It took entirely too long to finally get a telling hit that forced Rou back enough to bring his blade to bear.
[Parting Clouds]
[Mountain Sculptor]
Rou took the reversal well, deflecting twenty sizable strikes in the span of a heartbeat, his hands glowing silver, before he was within Daoyi’s reach again, and Daoyi’s spear was once more a staff.
For the first time, in a very long time, Liang Daoyi was being pressured. Liang Daoyi was having to try.
Cuts opened up on Rou’s arms and face. A knee slammed into Daoyi’s gut.
His blood was thundering in his veins. His mind was whirling through his forms. And then he felt the shift.
The technique to block in the first form of the Heavenly Pillar suddenly made more sense, as his opponent pressured him so heavily. The strikes had always seemed… out of place. But here and now, those seemingly useless blows he had practiced ten thousand times anyway began to brush aside the antlers trying to gore him.
The shift in balance there had to be like this instead. The position of his hands, the position of his fingers.
What Rou had promised was happening. He was changing. He was improving. Rou was forcing him to move and think in ways he never had to before. Rou’s bone-rattling strikes became more manageable. His overwhelming speed was not so overwhelming.
[Firmament Nail]
Rou dodged each strike by a hair’s breadth. The strike had the power to obliterate the arena below their feet, but Daoyi’s control was such that instead only perfectly circular holes appeared, piercing to the barriers in the building’s foundations.
He retaliated with a strike that Daoyi barely blocked, his arms rattling again.
Something cracked in Rou’s ribs when Daoyi’s spear struck it, just as the freeze effect stopped.
Daoyi’s feet left the floor, as Rou’s return strike crashed into his stomach, which Daoyi used to make distance.
Both of them landed, and for the first time since the fight had started, they both paused to catch their breath and reorient themselves.
“I do believe this second bout has gone to me,” Daoyi observed with some amusement as Rou caught his breath. His legs trembled for a moment, before his stance firmed.
Rou laughed, and reached up to pull the rags of his own shirt away from his chest. The crowd cheered; some even catcalled.
“Man, did you have to go so hard for this? I liked that shirt,” he mock-complained. His own chest was bare, littered with numerous little cuts. His quartz necklace glinted in the sun. He let out a breath, and then looked directly at Daoyi. “I’m not anywhere near done. So show me!” —he spread his arms wide, bellowing with all his chest — “is that the extent of your power?”
Spear twirling around his neck purely for flourish, Daoyi then settled into his stance. “Of course not! Come!” he shouted, grinning back. “Let's continue this to the end!”
===========================
The menfolk watching the tournament paused, confused, as thousands of women in the stands let out ear-piercing squeals. Some of them looked like they were drooling.
In Soaring Heaven’s Isle, Sei heard Xishi make a sound of such unholy delight it made everyone turn to look at her. The filthy smut connoisseur was panting, her eyes locked on the two shirtless men.
“Somebody write it! Somebody write it, damn it!” she bellowed. “My life will be yours forever!”
“But who receives?!” somebody else shouted.
“The Young Master is obviously the one who gives!” another sister erupted, outraged that it was even a question.
“But he's from the Isle! He's got a soft side too!” another screeched her opinion.
“You dare say that Lady Minyan’s son isn’t the man?!” That speaker grabbed the one who suggested such idiocy by the scruff of her neck.
A brawl nearly erupted in the stands, until the bosuns came in, swinging their clubs or simply punching rowdy fools back into line.
“...what are they talking about?” Chunhua asked, utterly confused.
Both Sei and Lin looked at each other with panic.
=============================
The difference in their strengths were slowly asserting themselves. Daoyi, as the battle went on, began to pressure his opponent more and more.
Rou’s breath was destabilizing. He was getting caught in the killing range of Daoyi’s spear. He was losing the initiative. He was using his movement technique less and less. His blood was beginning to paint the ground around them.
And Rou still advanced.
His eyes were locked only on Daoyi. The small smile still remained.
He was adapting too. The blows that once forced him away, or made him block, were dodged. His eyes dissected Daoyi’s most minute tells, and he would commit to his attacks without hesitation.
What should have been a certain victory was still in doubt.
[Heavenly Fang]
The spear leapt towards Rou in a full body thrust, a blow that should have ended the fight. Rou’s leg raised up then kicked downwards, redirecting Daoyi’s spear into the ground, where it buried itself.
[Five Peaks: Crumble!]
Daoyi caught the blow that would have buried him into the ground as well. They traded fifteen blows in the span of a heartbeat, until Rou was forced to give ground.
It was… it was… it was magnificent. It was the most fantastic battle Daoyi had ever been a part of.
He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. There were no taunts. Each and every blow was utterly free of killing intent, or even malice; the only thing that filled their blows was challenge. There were no words to be said. There was only here and now, the moments blurring into eternity, each second forcing a thousand new decisions, and forcing some new adaptation out of him.
Daoyi’s own breathing started to come in great gasps.
He was almost sad it had to end, but he refused to disrespect Rou by not striking him with his best.
His Qi exploded around him. Daoyi rose into the air, Celestial Fulcrum blazing with golden light. The air shimmered, the first step of his Domain manifesting itself.
Could Rou find a counter to this, too? Could he find a way to best even this?
Rou paused, his eyes widening.
[The Pillar that Holds Up Heaven]
=================================
I stared upwards as the heavens parted.
A titanic golden spear pierced the clouds, its light pure and unblemished.
It looked beautiful. Like a second sunrise.
I absently heard exclamations of shock in the back of my head, a feeling of worry from Ningjing flooding our bond.
She didn’t entirely understand the tournament. All she saw was the big attack, and for the first time, she felt like I might not be able to block it.
I felt my connection with Ningjing surge, my little girl trying to lend me some of her strength.
I gently, but firmly, closed the connection.
‘Thank you for wanting to help me, Ningjing. But in cases like this, you have to do it yourself,’ I whispered to her.
Again, she didn’t fully understand… ut she pulled back.
Like I had said. It wasn’t about winning. If this attack beat me, it beat me.
But it would be me in here, without any cheats, fighting it to the last.
I braced myself, and unbidden, a memory came back. I had once asked Minyan what the most important thing was to remember as a cultivator.
She had replied with something simple.
“You have to want it.”
You have to want it more than everyone else. You have to obsess over it. You have to give everything to your path, until you stop walking on it, and you become it.
I wanted it.
I wanted to fight! I wanted to win! I wanted to explore and eat and drink and cultivate!
I wanted everything this world had to offer!
I wanted it.
I wanted it.
I wanted it.
Something cracked, and the world felt lighter, my Qi surging around me.
Spiritual Realm.
A deer formed around me, a titan who could stride around the entire world.
A deer that had once given everything to protect humanity, crafting barriers, wards, and fortresses that the demons could not break through force; only by hiding in people’s blood could they ever hope to overcome the defenses.
[The Art of Crafting Mountains: Soaring Heaven’s Fortress]
The Heavenly Pillar descended to meet something its equal in divinity.
Daoyi and I both roared, the carved divine spear meeting a ward that was shaped like a flower with ten thousand petals.
My body was screaming. My soul was burning like a bonfire in my chest, and yet… I was smiling. My cheeks hurt, with how hard I was grinning. This was it. This was the experience I had wanted ever since I laid eyes on those manga panels. The hockey tournaments had always felt… disappointing, so lacking in passion and stakes. It was just a game. None of us were going pro. It was a hobby.
This wasn’t a hobby. This was a calling. This was reaching for a real victory. This was learning how to walk on water to be a better ninja. This was a Death March across America, kicking a rock the entire way. This was harnessing everything I had, reaching for a victory that I would win on my own merits.
And there was a rival I could lock horns with. Who was pushing me to my limits, and forcing me beyond them.
I pushed. I pushed with all my strength. I roared, and the deer roared with me, a deep bass note mixed with the primordial’sounding bugle of an elk.
It was not enough.
So I had to get more.
Grab the world. As much of it as you can. Grab everything you can.
Cracks ran though my legs, as the bones started to splinter. My muscles bulged, some of them bursting under the strain. The only thing that kept my legs from exploding was my Qi, the weight of mountains pressing down from the outside, struggling to match the pressure that was building within. Pressure I forced upwards, into the spear that had penetrated the first layer of my defences.
Cracks ran through the spear. But it kept going. My shield started to buckle. It inched closer and closer to me, the blade getting through inch by inch, until it was barely not touching me. My gaze met Daoyi’s, a silent contest of wills. We pushed. We shoved everything into our techniques, trying to best each other.
And then, it happened. My shield shattered. The massive golden spear splintered into motes of glowing light.
There was the sound of a gong, and I was smashed into the ground, even as Daoyi was thrown away.
But I had to get up. I had to get up. My body was groaning. It was nearly spent.
But I wanted it.
I stood, my ears ringing, my vision blurring. There, across the arena was Daoyi, staggering to his feet as well. My opponent’s face was crystal clear. He was looking directly towards me as I stood on wobbly legs.
“You’re a madman,” Liang Daoyi said, but he was smiling too, his voice full of admiration. He had bruises all over his body from where my fists had impacted, and his Qi was wavering. His lip was split.
But he still had his spear. It was smoking, and had cracks running though it, but it was still glowing gold.
“Takes one to know one,” I managed to get out, my breath wheezing. I had a rib in my lung. I could taste blood. But I rose to my full height. I coughed. “One last strike?”
Daoyi settled into his stance. His hair was wild, and out of its topknot. His once bored-looking eyes were alight with fire, and focused solely on me.
“One last strike,” he agreed.
We both moved. We both stumbled at first. But we kept going. I knew I was worse for wear, but I had one last trick in me.
The spear wound back. A thrust. Simple, effective, and practised until the man could probably do it unconscious.
He had reach. He had the weapon. He put his whole body behind the blow.
Exactly as I wanted him to.
I brought one hand up to guide the blade, and for the last time in the fight, I froze.
[A Body as Immovable as the Mountains]
Daoyi knew he wouldn’t be able to move it. The spear was thrust up over my shoulder. I unfroze, and hooked my arm around the haft, using his spear, and his own momentum to guide my blow, into something I had wanted to do for ages.
My fist, filled with the last dregs of my Qi, impacted Daoyi’s face.
[Cross Counter]
Daoyi, who had released his spear, slammed his own blow into my chest.
We both went flying, and everything went dark.
===============================
“...both down for the count! It's unprecedented! Both have fallen! Neither are moving!” a voice roared. There was thunder all around him.
It all came back to Daoyi. He was laying in a crater. The thunder was the crowd. It was very, very loud.
“I am checking— and yes, a count of ten! Whoever gets up will be the winner, else this will end in a draw!”
He could feel where his cheeks hurt from his smiling. This had been the most wondrous day he had had in forever. He could feel it. He could feel how much he had grown, how much he had changed, how much he had learned, in those mere thirty minutes. Before the fight, he had been perhaps halfway to the Third Stage of the Spiritual Realm. Now, he could feel himself brushing against it. One last push, and he would have made it. He nearly broke through, just like Rou had, but there was one last thing that he felt like was holding him back.
“Ten!”
He would have to meditate upon this fight, and replay it in his mind for hours. It was everything Rou had said it was! They had pushed each other to heights neither had known!
“Nine!”
He just… basked in it a moment.
“Eight!”
“Seven!”
“Six!”
He should probably get up.
“Fi—Rou is moving! Rou is standing!”
He felt Rou. The other man had nothing left. Nothing but sheer stubborn drive. He didn’t care how he looked. He just staggered to his feet again, because he wanted to fight until he had nothing left, to give it his everything, and know where his limits were.
And yet Daoyi could probably just walk up and push him over. The fool, he was barely conscious!
“Five! Will Laing Daoyi stand?!”
And yet he got up for no one but himself.
“Four!”
Daoyi still had Qi left. He could get up. He could win this. For a moment, his muscles tensed, to rise, and claim victory.
Victory for his sect.
“Get up, Daoyi!” his father roared.
Victory for his father.
“Three!”
But not victory for Liang Daoyi.
“Two!”
Because Liang Daoyi had already won.
“One!”
And this crater was very comfortable at the moment.
“Match, Over! Victory! Tianzhe Rou!”
But also very noisy. He almost didn’t hear the shuffling steps of Rou, as he staggered over to Daoyi’s crater, then collapsed beside it.
“You okay, buddy?” he asked, his voice a rasp.
Daoyi’s smile widened slightly. He finally stirred, opening one eye to stare at his opponent.
“I’m trying to sleep. The sun is very nice,” Daoyi growled back.
Rou laughed, which turned into a cough. Rou winced and held his side.
“That was one hell of a fight, brother,” he said, and held out his fist again, that guileless smile on his face.
Daoyi’s fist touched Rou’s.
“Indeed it was,” Daoyi agreed.
They were silent, just basking in the moment.
“‘Kay, I’m gonna pass out now,” Rou then said, and promptly keeled over sideways.
…this man was the most entertainment Daoyi had ever had.
He leaned back in his crater and laughed.