Of Demons and Devils
The sound of metal on metal echoes throughout the halls of the Library, each clash sounding like thunder. It was clear that someone had chosen to spar outside of the areas designated for doing so. To the chagrin of the sect's elders, the question was who and it wasn't one with an obvious answer. Quite a number of the sect's students were given to finding themselves in brawls. Of them, a worrying amount were entirely unfamiliar with the idea of holding back.
Upon drawing closer to the source of the commotion, one would take notice of the scars cut into the surrounding area before laying eyes on the culprits: Saya and Zhimin furiously throw themselves at one another between towering shelves, threatening to shred the scrolls they house to ribbons if they were too careless.
It was one of the more novel occurrences in the sect. As far as anyone was aware, the two women had exchanged few words and neither was in the habit of starting fights. The sword demon was much too "busy" lying about and sipping on wine to involve herself in such things and, while certainly fierce once she drew her blade, the Iaidoka seemed to be surprisingly even-tempered when not in the heat of battle. Thus, there would seem to be little reason for these two to be at each others' necks.
Yet, there is no mistaking the killing intent as a flurry of swords is sent forth to run Saya through. The Iaidoka moves like water — or perhaps more aptly, blood — as she bends around each blade and advances like a free-flowing stream. Another loud rind is sent out as a heavy slash meant to free her opponent's head for their neck is met by another of the demon's blades. Zhimin moves like lightning to return the favor. Her sword grazes Saya's neck as the woman deftly dodges the fatal blow and begins to move into another slashing attack, only to seamlessly pivot into a spin so that she can fend off the onslaught of swords coming at her from all directions. It's as if the blood her blade has been drenched with envelops her to deflect the.
Each had little in common with the versions of themselves that were usually on display. One allows old instincts to reawaken, while the other gives into new ones. Both become more like devils.
From one of the higher levels, Zhou Yun watches the pair fight below. He had seen the interaction that had led to the current circumstance. Zhimin had approached to question Saya for a short while and ultimately demanded that she toss her blade out. Of course, the Iaidoka refused, and the sword demon set on forcing her hand. Yun knew that both were more than capable of effectively using a sword, but seeing them in action entranced him. His hand tightly grasps his blade, eager to draw and join the fray. Yet, even he had some respect for the sacredness of a duel. There was much to be learned from merely watching, and the victor would surely prove more worthy of his time.
As one of the deflected blades soars inches away from his head and into one of the walls, there's a slight lull in the fight.
"Foolish child. Throw that wicked thing aside and I may yet spare you." Her words are cold and clear. One would never suspect the alcohol on her breath.
Demanding a swordsman to discard their blade — it would be funny if it wasn't so insulting. No one with even the slightest respect for their craft would do something so shameful. To ask one to part with a treasure with which they had bonded was no less than to ask them to sever a limb. In fact, it was far worse than that, for it was to ask them to pluck out a piece of their soul. That Saya had not drawn it to strike Zhimin down for even making such a ridiculous demand was a shock; it was why it was worth attempting to spare her.
Whether due to indignation or the sword's growing thirst, Saya's only response is to carry the force of her deflection back into an attack. The white fabric covering Zhimin's shoulder is split open but, before it can be stained by her ichor gushing out, the blade greedily takes in her lifeblood. Like a starved having finally caught a whiff of prey, she becomes emboldened and sends out more wild slashes. More and more clean slices find their place, but the sword demon doesn't flinch away as she fends the assault off. It was neither possible nor in her nature to retreat.
Zhimin drives her sword forward and strikes Saya's blade as if trying to cut through it. Before the infernal treasure can slide off, several blades position themselves to restrict its movement. Leaving her blade to play its part in the trap, Zhimin steps to the sides and rushes forward to thrust one hand into Saya's abdomen while the other makes a slicing motion upon her forearm. Saya stumbles back slightly, leaving the part of her arm still holding her sword and revealing a deep puncture from which her blood spills.
It at first seems that the fight is decided and Yun drops down from his position to formally submit his challenge. However, both he and Zhimin feel a heavy wave of spiritual energy wash over them and threaten to crush them. Saya's sword and sheath drink in the spilled blood as the blade struggles with Zhimin's until it finally breaks away from them. Then the arm and blade are pulled back to their master as if they had been forcefully separated moments before. She charges forward with even more force and speed than previously displayed while Zhimin sends forth another volley of swords that she weaves between.
However, just before contact can be made, two shots ring out and the pair are sent whirling in the air. Their bodies fall limply to the ground, though there are no new wounds marking them, and their life force can still be strongly sensed. Yun looks in the direction of a much weaker one and sees the woman responsible for the lackluster conclusion.
"Making all this ruckus in a place of learning, and for what? You cultivators can be such trouble." Zào Zhēn shakes her head in disappointment as she approaches with her still-smoking rifle over her shoulder. She gives Yun an uneasy look as she tries to determine his involvement. "And you, how much did you contribute to this mess?"
Yun glowers at the woman and grips his blade, not even trying to hide his dejection. "Nothing, Elder. Though I hoped I might test myself, you've put them in a state unfit for battle."
She sighs and shakes her head again. How he could witness his peers attempting to cut each other down and wish to join them, she could not understand. "Very well. You will help me carry them, then."
The disciple balks somewhat at being ordered but complies. After all, the more quickly they awoke, the more quickly he might use them to refine himself.
Zhimin shoots up, drawing her sword on instinct as her eyes dart around. However, instead of her opponent, she only finds the interior of her quarters. There is someone with her, though; she feels a dread creep into her soul before she cuts through it whips around to face a grinning Zhou Yun. She simply roles her and sheathes the blade within her body before lying back down.
"What do you think you're doing here?" She sniffs and her nose crinkles up. "And what is that stench?"
"I was fortunate enough to witness your duel, Sister Zhimin. How could I ignore a fellow Sword cultivator? As for the stench you speak of..." He holds his free hand to show off a small box. "I fear that Elder Zhēn has left you a meal to help rebuild your strength."
She frowns. The wounds she'd endured were one thing, but they both knew she'd be bedridden for months if she dared to consume anything prepared by that woman. Instead, Zhimin reaches for her gourd only to find that it's neither at her hip nor seemingly anywhere else in the room. It must have been lost during the fight and forgotten she was taken away. Little did she know that a certain false sage had taken to draining it in the time since.
"Fetch me my gourd. A few sips of wine will lend more strength than the whole of that abomination." She looks at Yun and makes a shooing motion. "They may also put me in the mood to consider whatever it is you so clearly desire of me."
Yun's grin grows. "Then we shall consider our Tao over drink."
Of course, he would have to steal from a dragon's hoard if he hoped to fulfill the request. Even if such a challenge was welcome, it would certainly cause a delay. Even worse for as eager a combatant as Yun, it would likely be another fight that would be broken up before it could reach its zenith.