The Third Step: Chapter Seventy-Five

Dario made his way over a short time after Dusk arrived, and I flushed in embarrassment as I realized that I didn’t even know where he’d placed – I’d been too busy focusing on Dusk and her placement. 

“Oh, hey Fox and Forest,” Dario said, waving as he landed, and I waved back. I was a bit surprised that he’d heard the pseudonym that I’d thrown out in a match, but I supposed it was possible that announcers were going to throw the name around when discussing competitors. 

“Well done,” I said. He laughed, scratching the back of his head. 

“I suppose. Still not top two, which was what I was really aiming for. But top ten isn’t horrible for someone who only has one flying mana type, and splits between wind and lightning.” 

I pressed my lips together and nodded to him, not wanting to reveal that I’d gotten second in the sensory spheroids event. To be fair, I had a much higher than normal number of gates, and if you added together all of my sensory and sensory boosting spells, I probably had enough to match most of the experts. Stacking my soul mana, a specific growth item to empower my senses, and an early grasp of applying resonance into my senses, and it made sense. Dario just had less overall space in his gardens. I didn’t expect to do nearly as well at any other events, except for maybe the teleport races. 

“Time to go,” Ming said, standing and putting her hand on her sword’s pommel. 

“Ming’s going to fight in the non-magical fencing division,” Morgan said, looking at me. “Do you want to join us cheering her on? I promise she’s not as rude as she comes across.” 

I snorted in laughter, then glanced at Dario and Dusk. Dario seemed unconcerned with us coming along, while Dusk murmured it would be interesting. I was terrible at fighting with a weapon, except for maybe a stick. That actually got the corner of Ming’s mouth to lift into a smile for half a second, so I nodded and told them I’d go. We left this particular arena, heading out to one of the large outdoor areas where this duel was being held.

Ming departed to go be fitted with the magic-supressing effects, and be outfitted with a nonmagical sword, while Dario, Morgan, and I went to find seats. As we looked, someone approached, a man in a finely tailored suit that made him look like a butler. He bowed to us. 

“Experts Fox and Forest are invited by the ever-venerable Time Prince to join him in his box. Their friends are welcome as well.” 

“Oh, sure,” I said, waving for Dario and Morgan to follow the butler. Dario frowned, but he followed, while I tried to chat with the butler. 

“I admit, I’m a touch surprised Ikki’s here. He seems very busy.” 

“The illustrious Time Prince makes a point to view as many of the events as he can each time the Elysian Mastery Tournament is held,” the butler responded. He continued to lead us through the crowd, then through a side hall, and up into a private box. It was well-furnished, with neat modernist couches in white leather, chrome furnishings, and glass bottles. Ikki stood near the window, looking down on the proceedings, wearing a suit as he always did. When we entered, he turned and gave us a nod. 

“Hey Ikki! What’s up? Why’d you bring us up here?” 

Next to me, Dario’s eyes widened, while Morgan’s gaze shot from their brother, to Ikki, to me, and back again. 

“I expect much the same as you,” Ikki said. “Attending the nonmagical swordfighting. Do not be rude. Introduce your companions.” 

“Oh, right. This is Dario, and his sibling, Morgan. Dario, Morgan, this is Ikki. He’s a time mage, and my combat mentor.”

Dario gave a deep bow, trying his best to mimic the style, posture, and holding himself that was used in this part of the world. Morgan made a sloppier attempt, and then made a peace sign. Ikki let a small burst of air from his nose, then gestured for them to rise. 

“We are in a private box, not in court, and you are guests to the nation of Zhuanzhe and of Greater Daocheng. There is no need for that.” 

“As you say,” Dario said, rising. 

 “You should watch the competitions,” Ikki said, gesturing to the window and where the competitors were starting to get set up. “Magic is not allowed, but several of the competitors have highly developed Nascent Truths. More than half of them have begun to touch on Wu Wei.” 

“Wu Wei?” I asked, frowning. To my surprise, Morgan was the one to answer. 

“Effortless action. Mind, spirit, and body working together to accomplish your goal with the absolute minimum level of power needed for your goal. Uh. At least that’s how Ming described it. It might be wrong, mister Ikki sir.” 

“It is a reasonable enough summary,” Ikki agreed, nodding to them. “It is more common when one does not need to focus on their magic, but it is still rare. I do not expect any of you three to attempt to master it. You will find your own way. But if you watch carefully, you may still learn.” 

We all quieted down as the fights began. Much like in the sensory spheroids event, there were multiple concurrent fights going on at once in order to whittle down to the final fight. I let my eyes drift around to various fighters, watching them as they moved and fought. There was someone who I thought might have been the armored woman that Dario and I had fought in the first round, a middle aged man who was even shorter than I was but fought with an extremely long two handed sword, a few people who fought with one longer sword and one short sword, and more. Everyone was skilled, to the point I knew in a nonmagical fight, I’d be toast. 

And Ikki was right, as per usual. There were a few in the crowd, though not many, who clearly stood head and shoulders above. I could practically feel the air humming with the power of their Nascent Truths as they fought. A man in his early sixties with sports glasses and a balding head sung of the Truth of the Sword. Every blow he made was measured, striking with more precision, power, and panache than his opponents. There was someone wearing thick wrappings that obscured their face who fought with two swords, using one to strike, and the other to parry strikes with ease. Every motion they made was to the beat of Patience. They did attack, of course – even a defensive fighting style needed to attack, or else lose the beat of the fight. But they never over-extended or pushed themselves too far. 

And there was Ming. She used what I would have called a shortsword, though to be more specific, it was a jian, a weapon with a long history among mages and nobility in the area. She flowed with the Nascent Truth of Combat, and wielded it well. She shifted from sharp, heavy, offensive styles against one opponent, into a flowing, soft, defensive style against the next, and then onto a quick, agile style with no apparent effort. It was almost as if she could foresee what her opponents were going to do next.

“Is that Wu Wei?” I asked, gesturing a Ming tilted to move an inch out of the way of an opponent’s strike. “I can see how she moves with the flow of Combat.” 

“No. But it is a step in the right direction,” Ikki said quietly. “There is still wasted movement. She is peering through a keyhole into Wu Wei, but she must open the door and see it in fullness.” 

I wasn’t sure I entirely understood the specific analogy that Ikki was making, but I did at least see why he thought that watching the fight would be valuable. I could see ways to start drawing more on my own Nascent Truths for fights, not just in specific moments, but as an attempt to match my fighting with them. Then Ming and the man in his sixties stepped onto the stage across from one another, and Ikki leaned forward. I did the same, watching as they took simple stances.

As they began, I watched Ming on the back foot for the first time in the entire competition. It wasn’t much, but she had to put more effort into her parry and riposte than he did into his attacks and sidesteps, and he managed to score a point on her by tapping her head. They reset and began again. She did better this time, adopting a slightly more defensive style that struck out at him more precisely. With the new motions, each strike carried more weight than they had in the first round, and she managed to bring her sword to his neck, scoring a point. 

After they reset, both of them were more careful, and things seemed to be at a tie. Then she stepped to the side, accidentally attempting to dodge based on speed that would normally be granted from her life mana. But her magic was suppressed. I didn’t know how her spells worked exactly, but it was a very thorough suppression, as even her full-gate spell seemed gone. The older man punished her harshly for the mistake, and landed a blow on her chest that scored him another point to win. 

As they reset, there was a frantic energy in Ming that hadn’t been there before. She was nervous, since she needed to score twice without letting him score at all in order to win. Then, as they started, something changed. All of that frantic energy seemed to melt into her sword, and it was as if the blade became the center of the world. It flowed with Combat, but also, Combat shifted to meet its tune. Ming lunged, thrusting her sword forward at just the right angle so that she battered his sword aside, then smoothly hit the protective spell over his heart. Her eyes widened, and Ikki pointed. 

“That. Did you see? That single lunge was completely perfect and effortless. She channeled her nervous energy into the strike, and there was not a single centimeter of waste. At the same time, she was drawing out the absolute limit of what her body can manage. That was Wu Wei.” 

“It's gone now,” I observed. 

“It is,” agreed Ikki. “But that is not what matters. The fact she was able to do it for even a single blow is remarkable for her age and experience level.”

He grew silent as they reset for the final clash. Ming didn’t manage to tap into the strange state where combat seemed to flow around her again, but she also wasn’t quite as nervous. It took time, but she eventually hit him in the eye – though, of course, the protective magic prevented it from actually skewering him.

She continued on after that, seeming to be in a focused state that let her cut her way to the top two, until she finally faced off against the one wrapped in strips of cloth in the finals. They faced off, and I saw it again – but this time, not from Ming. As Ming launched her attacks, the world seemed to become more Patient. Her blade was knocked aside, and they scored a point, but unlike with Ming, the state didn’t break as they reset. It carried them forward until Ming touched on Wu Wei herself again, breaking the lock of Patience and scoring one point. 

In the end, it still wasn’t enough for her to win. She broke them both out of the focused Wu Wei state, after which it came down to pure swordsmanship. Ming was a good swordsman, maybe even a great one, but she was still young. Even so, as she was handed the medal and prizes for second place, she looked proud, and she had good reason to be.