Blueprint for Immortality: a Crafting Xianxia

As Wei Qi made his way out of the Sect, Booker followed at a discrete distance. His current mask was past its prime – he’d simply attracted too much attention from Zheng Bai to wear it into a den of thieves like the Pearl Gambling House.

But the wonderful thing about masks was, you could throw them away when you were done. It took two silver coins to buy a new one, a carved mask of soft gold-brown cedar wood in the shape of an owl. Rather than using his usual white-fur cloak, which gave him a faint edge in speed, he went with a plain black cowl.

Pretty soon every masked man in the city is going to be accused of my crimes…

But then I’ll just find another way to hide. Face-changing pills, maybe?

Ducking into an alleyway, he sighed. The odds are… somebody might have already spotted me. If I walk out of this alley in another mask, they’ll trail me easily. I’m good on my feet and clever in most situations, but I’m not going to bet on being able to catch sight of a practiced thief trailing me…

But he’d chosen an alley that connected to others, letting him escape from a variety of angles. So for now, as he switched out his mask, he waited…

When no soft footsteps proved to be following him, he chose a different avenue than the one he’d entered by, slipping out into the crowd.

The city was ornery today. With the coming examination, young warriors from the valleys were flooding into the streets, and tribal warlords brought their sons to join the Sect, merchant caravans stopped by to let their children compete. The atmosphere was rich with drink and laughter, new friendships forming over bowls of wine as young hopefuls looked out on their life with excitement.

But at the same time, there were brawls in the restaurants and the drinking halls. Blood flowed onto the streets.

Booker didn’t have time to stop and participate in every petty brawl that brought the city guard hustling out to pull the bravos apart. He headed straight for the gambling house like an arrow.

And still, he almost arrived too late. As he brushed through the door he easily spotted Wei Qi, standing by the edge of the ring and looking out of place in his pristine robes, the boy’s hand on his head, massaging his hair with nervous energy as he watched the fights.

It was chaos in the ring. A regenerating blob of black, tar-like sludge was spitting out tendrils of sticky adhesive to try and grab at a brilliant red bird that was swerved left and right, wings bending against the air to dodge. But no matter how fast it was, the bird had no way to harm the slime – its claws could barely risk slashing at the outer surface without sinking into the sticky mass, and that did no harm at all.

The crowd booed and called insults as the bird’s master recalled it to his shoulder. A barrel-sized earthenware jar was tipped forward until it hung over the edge of the fighting pit, and a hammer swung down, cracking it open. From within poured a thin, foul-smelling slime and mass of red fur. As the furball stood up, it shook itself off and the shape of a small bear became clear.

The slime surged forward, throwing out a tendril to grab at the bear’s side–

The bear swiped its claw into the reaching tendril, and scattered it into sludge. The master of the slime winced, but it was too late for the slow creature to be recalled: the bear simply waded forward, slamming its claws into the tar-sludge’s bulk and ripping the creature apart.

Booker turned away. The sad thing was, the bear was already showing the signs of falling apart: slimy purple veins bulged across its skin, growing wider and more far-reaching with every second. They were the physical signs of an unstable spirit beast, doomed to die within minutes after leaving its jar. Soon there would be only black sludge to show for its life.

But for that short life, it could at least enjoy being a champion.

More than watching the fight, Booker watched Wei Qi, registering every flinch and wince as the slime was torn apart and spatters of black tar flew against the pit’s walls, leaving only a black blotch on the center of the ring’s hard-packed dirt.

Sweeping the crowd left and right, Booker searched for other watchers – people standing back, ignoring the fights and observing the people. While the gambling house was at no shortage of shady creatures lurking at the edges, he didn’t track any of their gazes towards Wei Qi. The boy had escaped notice for now.

Looking up, he saw the blackboard on which the matches were inscribed. There were sixteen competitors, and thus four rounds of competition. Wei Qi’s first match was at the end of the first round, and his first opponent was only listed as ‘Nalou’ – a tribal name from the deep valleys.

With that as his first point of evidence, Booker quickly identified the man. He was dressed in heavy gray wolf furs and wore a pendant of black and red beads around his neck, with his chief spirit beast, a large wolf, panting and drooling as it waited at his heels.

Booker smiled the regretful smile of someone who was about to make a cruel joke at someone else’s expense. Sorry for this one, but… I can’t leave Wei Qi to this one on his own.

Concealed in Booker’s pockets was a heavy fragment of the mad ox musk gland he’d cut away, a wad of slimy meat leaking the alluring fragrances that drove beasts wild. As the crowd concealed his actions, he slipped closer and closer, until he could drop the musk gland and kick it into the wolf’s field of vision.

As the paper-wrapped sliver of meat slid into its sight like a gift from heaven, the poor wolf had no chance of resisting. It glanced guiltily up at its master, confirming he was looking away, and gobbled up the treat in a flash of teeth and black jowls.

A moment later and the wolf’s master was definitely looking as his spirit beast let out a sharp, whinnying howl and leapt straight up into the air, shaking itself violently as it landed. “Hao? Hao, heel!” But there was no stopping the wolf now. It took off, galloping and kicking with its back legs, arcing up into the air with irregular legs like a horse trying to buck off a rider.

The crowd parted, stepping back in commotion as Hao roared and barked, tail wagging violently from side to side as he let out vicious growls at anyone who approached. As the crowd moved aside enough for him to see the ring – as poor Nalou struggled to get Hao’s attention – the wolf’s overstimulated mind remembered its training, remembered what it was here for.

With a sudden burst of speed it rushed straight past its master and dove happily into the ring, letting out a ringing howl as it dove over the barrier with ears flapping.

Instantly the fight turned to chaos, and the crowd roared with anger, delight, and confusion, piling in so tightly to the ring’s edge to see the sudden free-for-all within that Nalou was washed back. The fight’s attendants had to push their way forward slowly, and by the time they entered the ring and dragged Hao back, there was no recovering the bout from total mayhem – a duel suddenly turned into a three-point free-for-all.

Booker simply allowed the crowd to wash him away from the crime scene, and watched from a distance as the protesting Nalou fought to restrain Hao from diving back at the other combatants. There was no shortage of laughter and jeers as the attendants dragged them both out and hurled them onto the street, slamming the door behind. The flustered referee called the match start again, but by now it was too late – the two unstable spirit beasts in the ring had begun to heavily degrade, and as they lurched towards each other with black bile streaming from their eyes and snouts, it was clear neither had much fight left in their short lifetime.

But just like that…

Wei Qi’s first opponent was gone. Unfortunately, the apprentice didn’t seem at all cheered up by the fact he’d just been handed a free win. His knuckles were white where they gripped the railing of the ring, watching the gory battles within unfold. When the rematch drew itself out to the sour, inevitable finale, he left entirely, forcing his way back through the crowd towards the bar and ordering a bowlful of cheap wine.

Don’t get too drunk… You’re just starting the marathon… Booker sighed. Maybe he should have chosen Xan or someone else for this…

But at the same time, he could hardly blame Wei Qi. In the ring, both spirit beasts had totally dissolved, but their skeletons were still locked in that final moment, leaning against one another to stay standing as their flesh collapsed into the sticky black slime that now glued them together.

That was how it went.

The truth was, most of the contestants had only brought a single stable spirit beast. The competition – the meta – around spirit beast gambling was to use the most expensive stable beast you could afford, and then back it up with less expensive, disposable beasts whose unstable nature made them powerful for a brief time.

When someone’s first spirit beast went down, there was a good chance the bout ended there. At the very least, their master would have to seriously consider dropping out rather than wasting their remaining unstable beasts.

After all, winning one round didn’t mean anything unless it was the last round, and every unstable spirit beast you spent early on was one you didn’t have later.

For the first match to have already gone three-against-three with full casualties on both sides… It wasn’t hard to read the angry glares between the two contestants. This had been a grudge match.

Very likely, the organizers had set these two up against each other in the first round for that exact reason.

The upshot is, I don’t need to run Snips too ragged here. If he can win the first rounds decisively enough the opposition will fold.

The first pass of matches proceeded steadily, with no more ‘interruptions’ from Booker as the ring filled with blood. He watched as much as he could, gathering information on the enemy, but his stomach was faintly turning over the whole time… The stink of blood was rising, and mixing with spilled wine to form the most nauseating odor.

Standing sentinel over Wei Qi, Booker leaned back against a post and let time pass, let the roars and the faces of the crowd blend into a blur.

Until it was time.

“Wei Qi, representing his senior brother Valley Rain, against the Lord Xing!” The announcer called, and Wei Qi blanched, shakily rising from his seat and making his way to the raised balconies that overlooked the ring for the trainers. Snips, Froggie, and Zhi-Zhi were all on his shoulders.

This… wasn’t a good look. The average spirit beast here was the size of a hound, and here he was, carrying his whole team like a collection of dolls.

People shoved Wei Qi and laughed at him as he made his way to the fore. Even the announcer seemed to be looking forward to an utter stomp – his opponent was a burly man leading a massive badger by a leash. As he unhooked its collar and let the surly, flat-bodied creature slump down into the arena, the size difference between him and the tiny Snips that buzzed down to land in the ring’s dust was drawn into clear contrast.

“Everyone, place your bets! C’mon, who doesn’t love an underdog story? Don’t you want to see this feisty little cricket soar to the heavens – maybe he’s the carp that leaps the waterfall!”

And indeed, Booker was pushing his way towards the betting desk as people clustered in, eager to lay bets on what seemed like a sure thing.

Even the clerk gave him a doubtful look as he put down his bet. “One thousand liang on the boy.” It was everything Booker had worked for over this last month, and it was going in at 5-to-1 odds to win the whole night. That’s everything. Absolutely everything – on Snips.

But Booker knew one thing the crowd didn’t. As small as Snips was, none of these bulky creatures could match him for speed or killing sting.

As the announcer lifted his hand and chopped it down, shouting “Begin!” there was no time to process what happened.

Snips simply blurred – and was on the other side of the ungainly badger. Sparks exploded up, raking a blue-white line across the beast’s fur. Every hair must have been as hard as steel, because the thick pelt resisted Snips’ attempt to cut through, leaving the beast stunned but unharmed.

As the badger reared up and turned, Snips flickered into its blind spot, circling to keep out of view as the shaggy beast looked left, right, left–

A claw flashed towards its throat. The badger lifted its claws on instinct, going tumbling back as the strike raked another line of sparks from its steely fur. Before it could recover, Snips had landed on its belly and was striking down with his claws, trying to pierce the fur and the heavy hide below to inject a payload of venom.

The badger rolled, and Snips went blurring back, landing on the arena’s edge. A drop of blood rolled down his scythe-like claws.

With a growl, the laconic badger bristled up, its fur forming into tall spikes sharp enough to pierce flesh. Lightning crackled down the white stripes of its skull, illuminating the spines with crackles of arcing electricity.

But it was all over. As the badger surged forward, chasing Snips across the arena with brutal slashing claw-strikes that would have annihilated the little mantis if they could just connect– it was clearly slowing, clearly lagging, starting to pant and huff as the thunder and storm died from its back. Although crackling fingers of electricity erupted and chased Snips each time those claws struck the ground, Snips was simply in a class of his own when it came to evading.

The crowd’s shock had turned to anger, now. Recovering from the blinding speed of the first assault, they began to jeer and cry out with each agile dodge, roaring for the badger to splatter an opponent they saw as all evasion and no killing instinct.

But the smarter ones were wearing concerned impressions, feeling their stomach and their chances of winning back their bets sink in tandem.

It wasn’t long before the badger was truly struggling to even move. Foam dripped from its mouth as it lifted onto its hind legs and stood unsteadily, gazing out at the crowd roaring with increasing anger for it to kill the ‘little bug’ and its master, gripping the railing with a furious expression on his face.

It stood for a moment, swaying in an unseen wind…

And fell, starting to spasm.

Poison, the crowd breathed out as one, finally understanding. “The little bug is a poisoner!” The announcer shouted. “The badger can no longer continue! We begin the count! Three…”

Booker pushed his way through the crowd, shouldering hard against the unwilling mass of people clustered to the railings.

“Two…”

Fighting his way to the balcony, he leaned over the railing, grappling for the burly trainer’s attention as dozens of other people yelled and screamed into his ear, berating him for being a worthless sack of shit and a million other things that added up to ‘you lost me money’.

Booker reached out and grabbed his arm.

The man threw off his grip in a second, but in that second, he turned and caught Booker’s eyes. Booker held up in two fingers a round green pill – a Poison Spitting Pill!

“I have medicine to cure your beast and save its life, but you need to act now.” Booker said, in his croaking, medicine-altered voice.

“And what do you expect me to pay for your crackpot promises?” The man sneered, already trying to turn his attention back to the ring.

“Nothing.” Booker said, and his head turned back. “Just withdraw. Withdraw now. If you keep fighting, your next beast is unstable. Even if it lasts long enough to wipe the ring with the mantis and the other two beasts you’re against – even then – you won’t be able to make it to the finish with only one unstable beast left. You’re two down at least – unless you withdraw and take this medicine.”

Half of his words were drowned out by the crowd, but the man still got the idea. His brow furrowed, glaring at the owl mask as if it personified all the ugly calculations he was being forced to make, then he turned to the ring and held up a hand.

“I withdraw!”

For a moment, the crowd’s outraged screams drowned out everything else. Booker was ripped back from the contestant balcony as the mob surged forward, grasping at the man with ripping, clawing hands. For a moment he was nearly being dragged out over the barricades, being assaulted and struck from every angle for denying them blood. Even the guards who were there to keep the peace were getting their blows in.

Booker was washed back, and he was fine with that. He simply turned towards the ring and shoved his way to the railing, and before anyone could stop him, vaulted over to land in the dust below.

The badger was twitching and convulsing on its side, but Booker fed it the Poison-Spitting Pill and massaged its throat to get the beast to swallow. As soon the pill hit its stomach, it heaved, and spat out a black wash of impure qi full of sticky globs.

The crowd was staring at him now, as he straightened up and the badger began to climb onto its feet.

“What are you? Some kind of fucking idiot?! Get out of the ring!” Somebody shouted.

“Motherfucker, we paid for blood!” Someone else hurled an empty wine bowl at him, which Booker stepped aside, getting a splashed of cheap and rancid alcohol across his black cloak.

All around, from every side, there were roars of angry disappointment, so loud they threatened to make the world drown. These people were drunk and here for the violence – more than one bowl was hurled his way as the badger slowly stood up.

But Wei Qi’s eyes had a helpless gratitude in them. The apprenticed leaned over the balcony and offered a hand up, which Booker gladly accepted, clambering onto the balcony alongside him.

“I have no idea why you did that but… Thank you.” Wei Qi said. “Are– are you the same masked man who saved me before?”

“The point of the mask is to hide my identity.” Booker answered, laying a hand on his shoulder. “But this much I can say: I’m here to help you.”

The crowd was still jeering, but Booker nodded towards the bar. “Let’s go. No point in watching this bloodsport.” Snips had already left the ring and alighted onto Wei Qi’s shoulders.

Together they pushed past the sour toughs glaring at them and the accusatory shouts from sore losers, reaching the bar. Booker put down one of a handful of liang he’d kept back for a bowl of wine and slid it towards Wei Qi.

“Thank you.” Wei Qi muttered hoarsely. The crowd was getting to him – his shoulders were hunched and his eyes downcast.

“Don’t worry. It should be possible to get you out of this without blood on your hands.”

“Really?” Wei Qi looked up. “That doesn’t sound like reality.”

“It is.” Booker promised. “With those three spirit beasts of yours, you’re guaranteed to win. Winning without killing will just be a little harder.”

“Thank you, but, they’re not mine. My senior brother made them.” Wei Qi said sourly. “I’m only here on his behalf – I really don’t know how someone can raise such strong beasts and just send them to risk their lives in a place like this alone.”

Mm. From any perspective but mine, it’s a real scumbag move… Booker sighed internally. But out loud, he said, “Your senior brother must trust these beasts a great deal.”

“Maybe.” Wei Qi said doubtfully. Booker could read his eyes – “or maybe he doesn’t care.”

“Just pace yourself with the drinking, have confidence, and all of this will be over soon.” Booker soothed him, choosing not to waste too many words defending his own reputation to the apprentice.

“I recognize your voice.” Wei Qi said. “This is the second time you’ve helped me, and I don’t know why.”

“I don’t need a reason.” Booker answered tersely.

“And you helped Wild Swan too, didn’t you? I heard about a masked man giving him medicine…”

“Listen, if you look too deeply into why I’m here, or why I’m helping you, you’ll only force me to leave. Let things be as they are: I’m here to help.”

They sat together quietly at the bar, Wei Qi drinking slowly as the audience roared and stomped and filled the gambling hall with noise. Neither of them was eager to pay attention to what was happening in the ring.

But Booker’s eyes kept watching the contenders, and eventually, he spotted a flash of a familiar face and shock-white hair in the crowd. Speaking of Wild Swan…

The boy was here. He’d arrived with a group of his hangers-on and cronies, pushing their way forward through the crowd so he could take up a comfortable position at the ring’s edge. His eyes were blue and focused, a far cry from his delirium when Booker had seen him last, and his skin wasn’t nearly as sallow and unhealthy. Even his expression of sneering contempt was back in place.

Booker silently departed from the bar, slipping deeper into the crowd where he wouldn’t be seen. By the time Wei Qi looked up, he was gone.

There were only four contestants left now. Wei Qi would be up against a female disciple of the Sect, while in the ring, a rocky-skinned octopus under the command of an elegant lady dressed in white fought against a sharp-tailed peacock controlled by an old man from the valleys, his walnut-colored skin etched with hard-set wrinkles.

The fight was brutal. The peacock’s razor sharp feathers bristled outwards and swept the ground in elegant fanning strikes, slicing entire limbs off the octopus’ body. But just as quickly, the clever octopus was regenerating itself, rolling and tumbling across the ground and trying to snag at the peacock with sudden reaching grabs.

And it only had to succeed once. With a sudden snatching motion, it managed to latch a tendril around the peacock’s throat and pull itself up onto the bird’s back. The peacock ran left and right, slamming against the walls, but it was too late. The octopus’ body had hardened into a lump of stone, hanging upside-down from the peacock’s neck like a stone.

In only a few wild attempts to buck the octopus away, the peacock was badly lagging, breathless, weighed down by the rocky tendrils clinging to its neck and choking off its breath with the unfeeling strength and weight of stone.

It collapsed forward and the count began.

After that, the valley elder brought out two unstable beasts, but neither was able to defeat the octopus. The combination of agile movement, sudden body hardening, and regeneration simply gave it too many defensive options, letting it wear down the enemy and crush them into submission. Both times, the unstable beast collapsed and fell apart before it could finish off the octopus.

When the valley elder stepped away cursing and the elegant woman went back to her crowd of young beauties and handmaidens, it was Wei Qi’s turn. This time Booker stepped onto the balcony with them as they both endured another round of jeering from the crowd.

The female disciple entered the opposite balcony, carrying a small sleek silver-furred otter. As soon as the beast leapt from her hands, a bubble of water surrounded it, a bubble that completely defied gravity, letting it swim rather than fall down towards the ring.

“BEGIN!” Roared the announcer.

Snips wings erupted out and the tiny mantis shot straight for the finish.

The otter twisted nimbly into the air, its bubble moving with it to form a looping spiral. As Snips shot through the middle of that spiral, it snapped shut like a trap, trying to crush and drown the little bug by weighing down his wings with water.

Still – there was something undefeatable about momentum. On momentum alone, Snips burst out of the closing water trap, landing on the far side of the arena with drenched wings. He tried immediately to flick the water off of them with an angry buzz but–

The otter was on the attack. It flicked its tail, extending the bubble out into a rushing torrent of water that swept towards Snips. A leap carried him above the attack, but now he was airborne without working wings, perfectly vulnerable as the otter sailed forward and lunged down to try and crush him with its forepaws.

Fuck!

But even as Booker leaned forward to the edge of the ring, a miracle happened. Snips flashed both claws into a wide, cutting stance, ready to receive death with open arms. Apparently, the otter had no such resolve– at the last second it averted, diving left and trying to swipe Snips out of the air with a sideways wash of water.

Snips caught the blow and let it carry him back, his feet connecting with the ground once more as above him, his wings flared out and vibrating into a buzzing curtain, flicking away all the water that had restrained him.

This… This spirit beast is definitely of a higher cultivation than Snips. Only the fact that Snips was made by the book’s recipe is letting him stay in this…

Wei Qi was biting his fingernails. He looked helplessly towards Booker.

The problem is, against a creature as small as Snips, that bubble is a defensive technique as well as a movement technique. If he closes for a finishing move, it will drown him.

Booker turned towards the ring. “Mantis!” He commanded. “The enemy is fast, but the water they rely on lags behind. Aim for the water! Run it out of qi!”

Snips didn’t need telling twice. As his wings were freed, he dodged aside from the next attack, letting the otter chase him around the ring on a series of touch-and-go near misses. With each pass, Snips would flick out a claw and rip through the watery membrane that held the bubble together, mist erupting from the speed with which his tiny scythe tore through the water.

It was just like Booker had said – the otter was fast, but it could only move inside the confines of the bubble, requiring it to stretch and extend the bubble into a watery trail with every motion. And as Snips tore the qi holding the water apart again and again, the beast began to weary, constantly having to reinforce and feed into its movement technique.

Until–

There was a flash of bright pink wings and everything stopped. The otter toppled from the bubble as it collapsed into a wash of thin water, and even before it could rise, Snips was suddenly posed on its back, a claw raised to threaten its neck.

“Concede!” Booker called out.

The disciple’s face twisted, the girl biting her lip in uncertainty, before calling back – “If you think you can take one of my beasts hostage and bully me, you’re wrong! Do what you will! I have two more who can wipe the dirt with you!”

“Alright, in that case…” Booker lifted a hand. “I’ll let you have your otter back unharmed on one condition. My next spirit beasts works best when its given time to prepare the ring, so give me the time it takes to steep a cup of tea…”

“Like I’d agree to that!” She yelled back, furious. “It’s obviously a trick.”

“Obviously.” Booker agreed. “But think about this – poison is a slow killer. If I refuse to let your beast leave the ring until it’s dead, I’ll have plenty of time to do whatever I want. All you win by refusing is the needless loss of a good fighter.”

She paused, and the logic sank in. There was simply no winning here because he really could poison her beast and use the time it took to die for his own goals. With the crowd so frenzied for blood, there was no way they’d accept an early count.

Finally, scowling and stamping her foot, she shouted, “Fine! Only enough time to brew a single cup!”

Snips buzzed back to Wei Qi’s shoulders with a single jump. The otter slumped out of the ring, needing its master’s assistance to climb up into her arms.

And Booker nodded to Wei Qi. “Send out the mole next?”

“Zhi-Zhi? Uh, he’s uh, not really a combatant. The only one who’s supposed to fight is…” But the little mole had already begun to climb down his robes, make his way across the floor, and waddle down into the ring, tumbling over the steep curved walls and landing face-first in the dirt.

“Is this a joke?” Someone yelled. “It’s even sadder than the last one!”

“Your mother could kill this one by sitting on it!”

“It doesn’t even look fully grown! Look at its nose, it’s a malformed runt!”

As the crowd’s outrage reached up to the rafters and shook the floorboards, Zhi-Zhi’s nose lifted up, wiggled its starry feelers, and decided this was no place for a mole.

So he simply popped down beneath the earth and vanished without a trace.

“What?! He can’t run away!”

“Hey bring the coward back! You piece of shit, you haven’t given us one good match all night! You’ve stolen from us!”

The crowd was only growing more restless. There was precisely one thing saving Wei Qi and Booker from being openly assaulted by the mob, and that was Wei Qi’s status as a disciple of the Sect. Anyone else would have already been dragged out and beaten to a pulp for denying the bloodlust of the event.

But the worst outrage was left to come. As the orderlies dragged forward the girl’s next spirit beast, contained within a jade jar wrapped in hempen rope, Booker held up a hand.

“Before you release that spirit beast, why don’t we see if my opponent still wants to proceed?” He called out.

“What? Of course I want to proceed– don’t you dare patronize me!” She shouted back. “Even if I lose both, I’ll still have my otter for the final round.”

“But unless I’m mistaken, your next two spirit beasts are both unstable. They’ll only live ten minutes.” Booker replied patiently. “In that case– why would our spirit beast even bother to surface in the next ten minutes? Right now he’s safely hidden away and all he has to do to win is wait. If you like, you can spend your beasts’ lives trying to find him, but you won’t catch him in his element.”

“You– you–” The girl’s mouth hung open, unable to believe what she was hearing. “You BASTARD!” She lunged forward, leaning over the railing with fury in her eyes. “Cowardly, rat-shit BASTARD! MOTHERLESS WHORE! Fuck the beasts, I’ll kill you MY–”

And then mid-sentence she reeled back, dumbstruck, as a massive wave of martial intent washed through the gambling house. The crowd, who had been firmly ready to back the disciple in her play, shrank back and covered their eyes and ears, although that did nothing to protect them from the steady waves of power pulsing out across the air.

It was Wild Swan, his arms crossed, who silenced the gambling house with martial intent.

“Is the name of this competition not a battle between spirit beasts? So far, it’s clear who has the superior beasts at their side. As such – the Sect won’t accept any interference from rabble.” The white-haired prodigy said coldly.

Before the girl could answer, a hand touched her shoulder. It was the elegant lady in white who had commanded the octopus to victory.

“This won’t be a win for you, no matter what you say. Bear it gracefully, though, and I might win some of your pride back tonight.” The lady said, gently guiding the girl away before turning to face Booker and Wei Qi across the ring.

“I notice all your spirit beasts are stable and well-formed.” She said, unbothered by the hateful aura still washing out from Wild Swan to suppress the crowd. “So are mine – I despise the senseless waste of spirit beasts who only live for one battle. As for your desire to win bloodlessly, I find it naive, silly, and somewhat charming. Therefore I’m willing to offer a deal. No tricks from your end. No killing from mine. Each of our beasts will battle once, three duels, and the first to two wins calls themselves the victor.”

Wei Qi looked up at Booker, looking nauseous from the radiating martial intent.

Booker nodded. “Since you ask us for a fair duel, and since everyone here has been waiting to see a real fight – we accept!”