She had noticed it. Whenever she attacked, he didn’t move. He only moved after her attacks were finished.
“What’s more, that technique can be disrupted when someone else’s youki is injected directly into your body. Camellia-sama was able to bypass this by attacking your soul, which also disrupted your technique. However, someone like myself, whose elemental nature comprises of water, would need to inject my youki directly into you.”
Li’s eyes widened in realization. “Then those attacks… they were…”
“Indeed, I wasn’t just randomly attacking you from all sides. Every attack contained a small portion of my youki. I could only use a little bit because I knew you would feel what was happening if I used to much, but when you’re being attacked from six dozen separate directions and cut open by six hundred simultaneous attacks, it doesn’t really matter how little youki I use. Your youki will eventually be disrupted.”
Kotohime observed her foe. Blood leaked from the uncountable number of cuts that had bypassed his technique. It ran down his arms and legs, dripping off his torso. The sand was becoming a carmine stain underneath him.
“I-I… see…” Li grimaced as his hand reached out toward one particularly nasty wound that ran across his stomach. “It seems a four-tails truly can defeat a kitsune of greater power.”
“Power is not everything,” Kotohime declared confidently. “You are more powerful than I; there is no denying that. However, what you have in power, I have in skill. I also have more experience than you. Where you were trained in the art of combat by instructors and tutors hired by Shinkuro-dono, I learned to fight through countless life-and-death struggles. You learn more when your life is on the line than you do in a dojo.”
“I think I understand… heh, to think I lost because of something as simple as lacking experience… Lady Fan, I am sorry…”
As Li fell face first onto the ground, Kotohime turned around and walked away. She needed to find Kevin and Lilian. For her own peace of mine, she needed to confirm that they were safe.
***
The battle intensified. Illusions clashed with illusions and techniques collided in an orgy of destruction.
Camellia and Daphne double-teamed Zhìlì, doing everything they could to keep him on the defensive. Daphne’s illusions messed with his senses, disrupting his hearing, inverting his vision. She used every ability she had to keep him on guard. Meanwhile, Camellia used her spirit techniques.
“Spirit Art: Gates of Hades.”
An iron wrought gate rose from the earth, rusted with age, smeared with blood. Murals engraved along its surface showed a scene that made the blood run cold. Death. A young man being impaled by several stakes. A young woman being dragged into the ground by a dozen corpses. A middle-aged man, his skin torn from his body, consumed by the jealous dead who hoped to gain a life of their own by eating the flesh of the living. Skeletons and spikes adorned the top of the monolithic structure, and chains wrapped around it, keeping whatever lay inside from being released.
The chains snapped, breaking. There was a groan. The gates slowly opened, their loud creaking an ominous symphony.
From within that gate, they marched, a horde of skeletal warriors dressed in Spartan armor. They bore swords and shields, bows and arrows, marching onto the plane of the living.
“Well now, this looks problematic.” Despite his words, Zhìlì did not appear all that worried. He raised his hand and pointed at the undead skeletons set on slaying him. “Celestial Art: Celestial Dragon.”
The dragon appeared again. Particles of light gathered and gave it form. A large muzzle emerged from the darkness, followed by sloping twin horns that curved back. Two short arms emerged on its underside and wings formed along its back. Its long, serpentine body ended in a sharp tail.
“Attack.”
That single command caused the dragon to roar and launch itself at the incoming horde. It tore through their ranks, burning the undead zombies, severing the souls bound to this plane before destroying the skeletal corpses, reducing them to ashes.
However, the dragon was one against many. The undead horde was like a wave; it surged and swelled and buried the dragon in a mass of bodies. Light burst from between the undead. Many of the horde was burned, vanishing as they exploded into dust, but it didn’t matter. The dragon was gone.
Zhìlì frowned. “Tch. Then let’s try this.”
“Celestial Art: Twin Heavenly Dragons!”
Two dragons appeared this time. The first ploughed into the bodies of undead, tearing them apart and creating a path for the second, which continued onward, slamming into the Gates of Hades, which buckled and broke underneath the powerful onslaught.
Seeing this, Camellia danced away on reinforced legs. Daphne tried to backpedal, but the dragon that remained, the one which didn’t get buried under undead, raced after her. She used reinforcement, but like most of her kind, she had never focused very much on reinforcement, beyond learning the basics. She was an illusionist, not a close-combat specialist.
The dragon opened its maw to take a bite out of her—
—when Camellia appeared right in front of her and smashed a fist into the dragon’s snout. The dragon exploded. Celestial youki scattered to the four winds, the light dispersing like rain clouds driven away by an explosion.
“Are you all right, Daphne?”
“Yes,” Daphne muttered, her breathing heavy. “I am fine. I appreciate the timely intervention.”
“No problem. Now get ready. He’s coming.”
There was no more time to talk as Zhìlì appeared before them. Camellia soon realized that it was an illusion when she tried to attack it using Soul Binding, which created a dozen chains meant to bind a soul to a specific location on Earth.
“Celestial Art: Tsun Su’s Paradox.”
The world attempted to invert itself, with left becoming right and right becoming left, with up becoming down and down becoming up. Camellia dispelled the technique by dancing. Her youki rose to the surface as she danced, rejecting the false reality presented to her.
“Spirit Art: Soul Forging.”
Daphne used Soul Forging to create several spears, which she launched at Zhìlì, who dodged the many attacks before sending a Celestial Cannon at his fellow seven-tailed kitsune. The attack was destroyed when Camellia moved into its path and slammed a fist against it.
“You know, that Dancing of yours is really annoying,” Zhìlì said with a sigh. “The stronger my attacks are, the stronger it seems to make you.”
“That is not my problem,” Camellia’s reply was short and to the point, “especially since you are now within my grasp.”
Zhìlì blinked. “What do you—”
Before he could finish, Camellia disappeared and something struck his back with incredible force. The attack drove him forward, into the ground. What’s more, there was a knife jutting between his shoulder blades. It was small, intangible, composed of ectoplasm. There was no blood, but this wasn’t a wound of the body. It was a spiritual wound.
As Camellia leapt away, having come up behind him by using an illusion, Daphne used that moment to launch her own attack.
“Spirit Art: Damned Souls, Colossal Thunder.”
Once again, darkness gathered overhead. Lightning forged from thousands of souls struck the ground where Zhìlì had stumbled. A large dome the size of a building, composed of white ghostly matter, formed around Zhìlì.
For a moment, Camellia dared to hope that they’d landed the finishing blow. Zhìlì was a powerful kitsune, but not even he could survive a direct hit from a technique designed to attack the soul. The dome soon vanished as the souls expended their energy, revealing a perfectly unharmed ground—minus the fact that all the grass, plants, and trees caught within the technique had withered and died.
There was no body.
“Celestial Art: The Sleeping Dragon,” a loud voice echoed.
A loud roar rent the earth. Camellia looked up to see something horrifying.
>
Zhìlì stood on a building, one that sold paraphernalia to tourists. That was not what had grabbed her attention.
A large shape had formed behind him. A beast of massive proportions. It had to be at least thirty feet long. Clawed feet ended in curved talons sharper than any blade, grasping at nothing as though they were imagining the flesh of its foes being torn apart. Its wings, pinions of golden light, flapped back and forth, creating large gusts that tore at the ground and kicked up dust. Every inch of its golden body was covered in scales and muscle. It moved and, just like a real beast of legend, the muscle flexed, strong and durable. Golden fire jettisoned from its snout as it snorted. When its lips peeled back, it revealed rows of large, sharp teeth.
It was a dragon of western origins, and despite being an imitation composed of youki, it was still impressive—not to mention intimidating.
“I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to use this technique,” Zhìlì said out loud. “It takes so much youki, and it’s very hard to use. It’s also not very discriminate in what it destroys.” As if the words were prophetic, the dragon landed on top of a small building, which was smashed flat, as if the creature composed solely of energy had actual mass. “You see? Indiscriminate destruction. It just leaves too much evidence, but you two really aren’t leaving me with much choice. Fighting against another seven-tails is difficult enough. Fighting against a seven-tails and a five-tails who actually knows how to fight—well, that’s a problem.”
Zhìlì stared at them with a curious tilt of his head.
“Now then, let us see what you can do after awakening a sleeping dragon.”
***
“Celestial Art: Taoist Point!”
“Celestial Art: Light Sphere!”
The qiāng launched at Kevin and Lilian was destroyed by a sphere of light launched from one of Lilian’s tails, which struck the leaf-shaped blade on the side and caused it to disperse.
Kevin ran left, his guns already pointed at Fan. He pulled the triggers, firing off several rounds. The woman was hit, then disappeared in a burst of light, which turned into several dozen spears that were launched at him.
“Lilian!”
“Extension!”
One of Lilian’s tails extended to far beyond its normal length and tapped him on the forehead. A jolt traveled through his brain. The one dozen spears disappeared, revealing them to be an illusion. Kevin frowned as he looked around. Where had Fan run off to?
“Celestial Art: Loazi’s Chains.”
Chains burst from the ground and tried to pin Kevin down, but he’d already predicted that they would come and threw himself backwards, rolling along the ground and coming to his feet in a backpedaling run. He swerved his arms, aimed at a tree with a head of blonde hair poking out, and fired several red bolts of youki bullets.
Fan leapt out from behind the tree, which exploded as the red youki struck it. Kevin had already predicted the way she would move. He aimed slightly ahead of her and fired again.
“Celestial Art: Tsun Su’s Shield.”
The bullets struck a yin-yang shield that appeared in front of Fan. Cracks spread along the surface. Kevin continued firing, watching in satisfaction as the shield shattered into celestial fragments.
“W-what the heck?!” Fan shouted.
“Celestial Art: Orbs of an Evanescent Realm!”
The nine orbs attacked their prey. Fan, for her part, moved to dodge. She wove through the spheres of energy, proving that she also had martial arts training. While the nine orbs kept Fan distracted, Kevin fired several more times.
“Celestial Art: Taoist Point.”
A qiāng formed before Fan. Rather than throwing it at them, this one she grasped with her hands. She spun it around with expert precision, slicing the orbs in half as they came her way, while simultaneously avoiding Kevin’s gunfire.
Kevin frowned. While youki energy packed a lot more punch, they didn’t seem to travel as fast as regular bullets. It made dodging a little easier. That could be a problem when dealing with someone who had this sort of fleet-footed dexterity. He was fortunate to have already thought up a way to defeat her.
He began firing again. Fan turned to face him, her blade spinning so fast it was nothing but a blur. Red energy lanced from his guns and was blocked. The bolts glanced off the youki qiāng, striking the ground and leaving a small crater. Cracks appeared in the qiāng as he kept up the pressure. The blade shattered, but another appeared to take its place. Despite this, Kevin didn’t let up. He needed Fan to keep her attention on him and not on Lilian.
“Celestial Art: Underground Chambers Prison.”
Two golden chains shot from the ground and latched around Fan’s arms. They coiled around her, tightening to the point where she cried out in pain. The chains retracted back into the ground, pinning her there, leaving her vulnerable.
Kevin unloaded another barrage of bullets. Fan’s body jerked back and forth. Each shot pummeled her like an old-fashioned shell. The force would have blown Fan backwards, but she was still pinned to the ground, so instead, her body became akin to a training dummy being mercilessly battered by an inu’s insanely strong fists.
I don’t get it. Kevin narrowed his eyes as he continued firing. These bullets can crack boulders. A kitsune’s body couldn’t possibly—
His eyes widened with sudden realization. “Lilian!”
“I know, we’re in another illusion!”
Kevin bit his tongue. He tasted blood. The sharp pain disrupted the foreign energy inside of him and caused the world to revert—not back to normal.
The world before him looked nothing like the Mediterranean paradise he had come to know. A landscape barren of life greeted him. The ground, cracked and scarred, as if the earth’s skin had been cooked by intense heat, surrounded him. In the center of this world sat a man, a monk, Kevin guessed, judging from his clothes. He was meditating, or so it seemed.
“Celestial Art: Buddha’s Paradox.”
The monk opened his eyes, and Kevin realized several seconds too late that Fan had layered two more illusions over the first.
From that moment on, Kevin’s life became one of pain as brutal blades of wind ripped apart his body.
***
The key to fighting two opponents at once wasn’t to take them on at the same time, but to find some way of taking them out one at a time.
Fan wasn’t stupid. Arrogant maybe, but not stupid. She learned from her mistakes. After their last battle, she had looked back on all the things she’d done, and she had come to the realization that she had let her arrogance cause her to underestimate her opponents.
She had played with Lilian and the girl’s friends for too long.
She hadn’t believed Kevin to be a serious threat until it was too late.
She should have realized the threat he represented after he dispelled her first illusion.
She had misjudged Kevin because he was human.
There was a long list of things that she could have done better. She had become determined not to make the same mistakes when they fought again. Thus, when Kevin and Lilian sought to battle her, Fan had immediately trapped Kevin within a triple-layered illusion. He somehow managed to dispel the first and second ones, but the third one would be impossible for him to break without outside help.
He lay several feet away, writhing on the ground, crying and screaming in pain. From previous experience, she’d learned that humans could dispel her illusion by experiencing pain. Pain disrupted their neural pathways. It forcibly broke whatever illusion someone was placed in.
However, that only applied to standard illusions. There was no way for a human to break an illusion where they already felt excruciating pain. After all, how could pain help a person break free of something when they already believed that they were experiencing pain? The answer was they couldn’t.
“Beloved! Beloved!”
Lilian was frantic. She kept trying to reach her mate’s side, but Fan wasn’t letting her. She constantly attack
ed the two-tails with her qiāng, thrusting and stabbing, twirling and slashing. The girl was forced to continue moving away from her beloved mate. She forced the redhead back with a continuous stream of attacks, never letting up for even a second.
She had to admit, the girl could dodge. None of her attacks hit. Lilian wove through her hailstorm of fast thrusts and slashes with a speed and grace that she wouldn’t have believed possible. Fan hadn’t realized the girl was so good at fighting. However, she also knew this wouldn’t last long. Lilian would tire out eventually.
She pressed her attack. Moving forward two steps, she thrust the leaf-shaped blade of her qiāng forward. Lilian sidestepped it.
Fan didn’t let this deter her and spun around a full 360 degrees. She attacked with the blunt end of her qiāng from above, but Lilian moved back. The strike barely missed the redhead’s face. Fan followed through with a thrust as she came out of her rotation, but Lilian twisted her body around the strike, avoiding it by the narrowest of margins.
She wasn’t this good before. Fan frowned. Has she been training since our battle? No, she couldn’t have known about my skill at wielding a qiāng. Was she just hiding this talent like I was? No. That’s improbable. She wouldn’t have hidden something like this when I clearly had her and her friends beat. So then, why is she so good at evading my attacks?
Keeping up the pressure, Fan continued to attack Lilian, who no longer shouted for her “Beloved.” The girl’s expression had become inscrutable. If Fan didn’t know any better, she would have said that Lilian’s face was almost… uncaring, as if it no longer bothered her whether Kevin lived or died.
That’s not right. What happened? This girl shouldn’t be this uncaring. All my observations from the past few months show that she’s obsessed with her mate. Why isn’t she trying to reach him now.
As if she could sense Fan’s thoughts, Lilian smiled. Fan only had a second to realize what that smile meant.
Bang!
Fan’s eyes widened when a bolt of red youki whizzed past her head. It struck the ground in an explosion that scorched the earth and created a miniature crater. She blinked. Then blinked again when she realized that something was missing.
A Fox's Revenge (American Kitsune Book 7) Page 36
