“Lai Xueya, twenty six years old. Fourth Stage Foundation Establishment. Please advise.”
The fake kindness in her tone makes Hu Qing’s skin crawl. From the very moment she first laid eyes upon the prissy cunt she knew they wouldn’t get along. Oh, if only she could go back in time and tell herself just how right she was. There isn’t even a hint of hesitation in her movements as she stands up and makes her way to the stage.
For a moment Xueya feels as if she has been spotted by some great beast. Turning to face the source of her distress she looks straight into two pink slitted eyes. Almost hypnotic, they simultaneously cause her to relax and nearly choke in fear. A shudder runs through her as her gaze slides back off the caramel-skinned girl. Only the sound of her skipping the stairs in favor of leaping onto the stone tiles of the arena shakes Xueya back out of her daze.
“Hu Qing, twenty four years old. First Stage Foundation Establishment. Please advise.”
Despite the challenger being three whole stages below her opponent only the most dimwitted fool would laugh at her. After all, spiritual ancestry tends to make one far more powerful than they should be and it is clear to any who so much as glance at Hu Qing that her inheritance is potent. After all, more than a glance is not even possible before their eyes slide off, her misty afterimage the sole thing anyone can use to accurately gauge her movements. Some amongst the crowd even offer muttered speculation as to whether Qing truly is merely mortal or an Ancestral Beast in disguise. Speculation that is laughed off as foolish yet not entirely dismissed.
That smidgen of doubt burns brightly within Xueya’s chest, a drop of sweat running down her forehead as she considers the possibility. Certainly, it is unlikely. But what if? She gulps and grasps her Jian just a little tighter.
“You seem worried, little snowflake.” Qing’s voice rings out melodiously as if she were singing the first line to a song. Mist gathers at her feet and moves to blanket the entire arena. The last thing Xueya sees before Hu Qing’s silhouette is swallowed by the fog is a pair of slitted eyes following her every move.
In reply Xueya conjures a flock of snowflakes. Their edges glimmer with what little light penetrates the fog. The snow briefly swirls around her like a swarm of bees, each pass taking the flakes lower until they reach her knees. Then, they scatter.
Flying in all directions the snow creates a thin covering over the arena floor, one not strong enough to withstand pressure yet with enough presence to alert their wielder to the enemy when they are crushed beneath their boots. An unwelcome metaphor that causes Xueya's lips to scrunch into a thin line. Even before the snow fully lands she begins to move. Slashes, cuts and shallow thrusts take her from one end of the arena to the other, her motions more suited for dance than combat.
Despite moving all around not a single snowflake is disturbed by her motions, her qi control so fine she looks like a fairy flitting over the surface of a lake to anyone capable of peering through the fog. Unfortunately for the Lai, there is but one person within the hall that has their undivided attention upon her.
Tendrils of mist form and crawl through the blanket of fog as the caramel skinned girl twirls her twin scimitars around in increasingly intricate patterns. Approaching from all angles the tendrils surround Xueya and hem her in without the ice cultivator even realizing it, the mist blending into the fog to the point they are nearly indistinguishable. Even so the moment the first one pierces towards her Xueya dispels it with a wave of biting cold. Feeling danger all around the Lai performs a pirouette, the fog around her freezing and adding to the crunchy layer down below.
Letting intuition guide her Xueya’s dance changes direction like a snowflake caught upon a breeze, her blade lashing out with clean strokes as if the entire world were her canvas. The sound of metal on metal rings out as several of her cuts find her opponent’s blades. Now fully in the zone Xueya does not let the ease with which Qing parries her strikes disturb her. When the half spirit dives back into the mist and a horizontal slash instantly comes from the other side aimed at the Lai’s back she simply bends forward as if bowing with a bent back, her entire body supported by the toes of a single foot while her other swings directly behind her leaving a thin trail of ice behind. Simultaneously her blade extends in front of her as if she had just finished a riposte.
As the Qing behind her dissipates harmlessly into mist when her leg passes through her she can see the fog in front of her move back far more than a mere thrust could account for. Pushing off the ground with the tips of her toes she elegantly swoops through the air and lands back on both feet, a movement in the mist tipping her off to her opponent’s presence. A skip, a step and a spin take her straight to her opponent and sees her cut deep into the girl’s chest. The lack of resistance tips her off a moment before her spiritual senses do and she dips low to avoid another swing while her previous target evaporates.
Hu Qing clicks her tongue when the return strike forces her to dodge. Her breath comes out foggy, something that should not arouse alarm given her techniques yet is not a part of them in the slightest. Goosebumps form on her arm as another wave of cold follows the Lai’s strike. Even though the woman is incapable of hitting her, every miss still cools her down. It doesn’t take long for a mocking smile to find its way back onto her snake-like visage. If it is a battle of attrition the frosty bitch wants she’s tough out of luck.
Two forms leap out of the mist, the first’s twin scimitars aiming at Xueya’s throat while the second follows right behind it, the tips of her swords aimed to pierce kidney and heart. Xueya dissipates the first and is about to side step the second when a third opponent appears from the mist, caution thrown to the wind as she rushes right at her with both blades aiming to kill. While Xueya is fairly certain the third one is fake and the second one is the true Hu Qing she does not feel the need to take the risk and elegantly takes several short hops back.
Her retreat comes to a sudden halt when the mist abruptly comes to an end, much like the arena floor. Aborting her withdrawal a sense of vertigo overwhelms her for a moment. Despite being unable to see she has been keeping track of where she is on the arena for the entire fight and this should not be where the edge is. Focusing on her spiritual senses instead of her physical ones she can feel the thin layer of snow she'd conjured extending far beyond the bounds of the arena, seemingly hovering invisibly in mid-air. Yet even so the perception is hazy, her very ability to detect qi hindered by the fog.
The realization that Hu Qing can create more than simple illusory doubles comes a second too late as an unseen blade pierces her chest. All Xueya can do is conjure so much cold that the mist user is forced to abandon the assault before she pierces her vitals entirely. She sustains the blast for a full five seconds while coldly assessing the damage. Hiding a cough behind her hand the palm comes back red, the curved scimitar clearly having punctured one of her lungs deeply enough for it to fill with blood. As her qi reserves begin to tip dangerously low she covers the wound in a layer of ice and freezes the damaged organ entirely. When the blast finally dies down she knows she will need to act quickly, she can only preserve her internals for so long without permanent damage being accrued.
Her dance takes on a more frenzied tone, each sword stroke moving in an unpredictable, seemingly erratic way. It is enough to dissuade the Hu from finishing the job, albeit Xueya doesn’t believe for a second that the fact that she will soon be unable to continue fighting isn’t a major factor to that decision. Were she not an ice cultivator she’d be tempted to smile. Such games as the Hu seems keen on playing can be enjoyed by two after all.
A pirouette, a triple step and a half spin finish her dance. The effects are immediately visible and cause Qing to curse under her breath. Blue light spreads from under the Lai’s feet following a pattern traced by her steps, lines of frost trailed throughout the arena and hidden beneath a thin layer of snow. With Lai Xueya at its center the biting cold intensifies, the mist covering the arena freezing in its entirety and crashing to the ground like an avalanche, both combatants now up to their knees in snow.
For the first time since the battle began both women are once more visible to the spectators. The two seem to be sizing each other up, the audience waiting with bated breaths for either one to make a move. At first, but a single sound echoes through the hall, the click of a tongue reverberating through the silence.
“Tsk, brute force it is then.” Qing speaks and bursts forward, snow flying into the air on either side of her as if she were cutting through the sea. Just before she reaches the ice cultivator she stops in place, a blanket of the Lai's favorite tool covering Xueya’s sight for the barest moment. The half spirit dives low and cuts, the momentary disturbance in her opponent’s qi flow cluing Qing in to Xueya’s surprise as she begins to topple. The woman tries to catch herself by taking a step back only for her balance to break even further when she turns out to be just a foot short of success, blood spewing out of her leg like a geyser.
“The thing about snowflakes is, they fall.”
Hu Qing’s simultaneous move is much more successful. Her spine bends unnaturally as she kicks off, the motion allowing her to maneuver her entire body into spinning horizontally in mid air. When both of her scimitars crash into Xueya’s hurriedly raised guard the force smashes her into the floor with enough force to shatter her spine, the sheer impact combined with the snowy cover turning her into an impromptu meteor cratering the frosty landscape. Even so Hu Qing isn’t finished, her spin continuing and seeming to gather force mid air as she raises her arms for another blow.
“Stop!” Du Juntao shouts before the blow can land. “ Both contestants, stand down! The winner is Hu Qing. ”
“Oh, good call.” Qing replies cheerily in stark contrast to her earlier demeanor. She lands with one foot to either side of Xueya’s torso, looking down upon the bested foe with casual disregard. “It wouldn’t be good for me to kill someone during the meet after all.” She adds with a chuckle while stepping away, her blades once more hanging from the rings on her sides and her arms casually stretching above her while she skips away. Only Xueya catches the meaning of her words with full certainty, the image of two snakelike eyes imprinting into her mind and causing a cold sweat to break out on her forehead.
‘It wouldn’t be good for me to kill someone during the meet after all.’
EntonaVZ· Nov 1, 2022
