Chapter 163: A Roadside Death, III

Wu Hao had not gotten to smack a Sovereign.

He really should have expected as much, but it still really stung, both literally and not. For all that the master had said that the Heavy Iron Staff Art was all about using the concepts of heaviness, he was damned quick with the thing, often managing to rap Wu Hao across the knuckles or across the shins without even seeming to need to put the effort in.

The worst part was that he could tell that the Sovereign was still holding back. He had kept his qi usage down to just enough that it matched the output that was possible by someone at the peak of the third-grade, just like Wu Hao himself, and he had dropped his qi veil almost specifically to let Wu Hao know it.

The problem wasn't even that master Shu had more qi in his pinky than Wu Hao had ever had access to. Wu Hao was simply outclassed in every other attribute, both in knowledge and in physicality. The master was a little faster in getting where he wanted to be, a little stronger, a little more ready to follow through. Wu Hao made mistakes, and master Shu did not. His adult arms were more suited to the length of the staff than Wu Hao's own little stubby arms.

For the first time in a while he disliked being a child vehemently. He knew he'd grow up and be somewhat taller than this, but the wait irritated him in a way that had grown less frequent since his return.

All said and done, though, he was learning a lot. The Heavy Iron Staff Art was a Sky-tier technique, like the ones he already possessed for a bunch of other weapons, and that meant that it couldn't be that hard.

The training had begun when master Shu had shown him the three moves that composed the art. The first was a simple flurry of thrusts, called Three Sparrows. Using the right qi movement allowed the staff's shadow to linger just a little after the initial blow was struck, meaning that with enough skill the user could essentially keep all three sparrows in the air at the same time. Despite the name of the move, mastering the art meant that one could achieve an "illusory" fourth sparrow-like thrust. Master Shu had then shown off by displaying a fifth sparrow, but Wu Hao had the sneaking suspicion that the master was cheating somehow.

Anyway, despite the fact that the tip of the staff was blunted, that didn't mean it hurt less to get hit by it. It just hurt differently, especially because master Shu didn't feel the need to hold back from butting the blunt end of the staff into Wu Hao's belly.

The second of the moves was the Weasel's Tail. Wu Hao had expected a move that would crush, but instead this was a strike, meant to land at an angle and disable whatever body part it hit by sheer force. Qi was used here to make another phantom that followed the main staff, lagging behind slightly, to make sure that even if you missed you might still ward off counterattacks or even hit your target.

The third of the moves was the Falling Rock, which was a simple application of qi to make the staff heavier and which, after smashing into its target, produced a second, slightly lesser impact. Either of the impacts could have killed a man, though. Whether it was by fracturing a bone or even the skull or whether it was by simply smashing down until only tenderized meat was left, it could kill without a doubt.

Wu Hao had managed to copy down the bare basics of the qi pattern. Master Shu had raised his eyebrows when he'd seen Wu Hao's clumsy efforts to try and replicate the qi movements, but he'd hopefully chalked it down to simple inexperience with the staff.

After that, they'd followed it with a spar. There was apparently nothing better for learning a technique than attempting to use it, which Wu Hao did actually agree with.

It just hurt. He was left rubbing the welts on his arms and legs every time that master Shu struck him, and he hadn't managed to land any shots of his own. His Three Sparrows were resolutely stuck at the level where he could execute only a vaguely competent single thrust, his Falling Rock managed to smash into the ground twice but was too slow to use in real combat. At least he'd had slightly more success with the Weasel's Tail, having used a few of the insights that he'd gotten from learning the Rending Dagger Art to fill in the gaps.

"That will be all for today's sparring," Master Shu said. He released his grip on the staff, which vanished into a mess of ink that spilled into the ground and was swiftly siphoned into the earth as if it had never been, without even a hint of flashiness. "Time to continue, I think."

He strode off towards the carriage. Wu Hao glared at the master's back, wondering if maybe he could use the One Shot Spear Art to hit him by using the staff as a large javelin, but he weighted the staff in his hand and realized it was totally unbalanced for throwing.

Damnit.

Wu Hao pulled the spear into his spatial storage and stumbled back into the carriage, which at the rap of the master's fingers against the wood set back into motion. The master pulled out some more tea and, with the barest hint of qi applied to the wood of the carriage, set a soft breeze to run throughout the space. It was pleasant enough.

Then the master pulled out a book. Instead of reading, though, he stared down at Wu Hao, as if waiting.

"I didn't know you were such a fast reader that you've worked your way through the book already," he said. "Or do you not intend to make use of all your time before arriving?"

Scowling, Wu Hao pulled his own book and shoved it front of his eyes, trying to force himself to read it. Better yet: to understand it.

Instead, his mind wandered. Now, for the first time, he was learning a technique from someone else, not just from whatever had given him the ability to resurrect.

So what would happen if he got killed by the Heavy Iron Staff Art, though, or any other staff art? Would he receive a fourth move from the blessing, continuing onwards from the art that he'd already learned? Would he receive the information of the first move first, the information shoved into his head without the need for learning? Or would he get something new entirely, a Staff Art that was completely unrelated to master Shu's teachings?

He had no clue. He still knew much too little about how his blessing worked. It wasn't like he could only kill himself a little bit and see what the results were, either. Either he died and returned or he didn't die and nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

In the end, he was none the wiser, and after taking a few sips of the water that he'd stored in his spatial storage ring, he got back to reading until the carriage stopped again, what felt like a decade later. It had been only hours, though, and the sky had long since grown dark. Lights had sprung up in the carriage to beat back the darkness, though.

Dinner was taken outside the carriage again. This time, it was some form of noodles, plucked out of spatial storage again and heated by an array. Wu Hao ate it, feeling not particularly enthused, but it tasted very good. It didn't even have beef or any other sort of meat in it, which was normally the qualifier he used to decide if something was delicious or not. The master had sprinkled some spices over his, not to mention it was in a fancier bowl, but Wu Hao didn't care about that all that much, frankly.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

"Can I have another bowl?" he asked.

"Have you earned it?" the master retorted.

"Haven't I? I won the tournament."

"Yes," master Shu said. "That's why you've gained the privilege of coming along. You'll need to accomplish something a little more impressive before I'll let you freeload off my food so blatantly, brat."

Wu Hao grit his teeth. "Like what?"

"I don't know," master Shu said. "Land a hit on me, for instance. "

There was only so much he could take. As the master smugly smiled at him, Wu Hao got up, put the bowl down, and stomped off.

In the dark and the cold, he could feel his breath mist up. The master didn't chase him, and Wu Hao wasn't sure if he'd wanted the old man to, so in the end he waited until his head had literally cooled enough that he felt vaguely able to talk again and retraced his steps.

A thin line of qi was glowing in the darkness, around the campsite. It would've been utterly invisible to anyone else, but to Wu Hao it read very clearly of a warning array, that would sound an alarm as soon as it was crossed.

He raised his knees high and simply stepped over the thing as if it was a wire meant to activate a trap of some sort, and then made his way more carefully to the campsite proper.

The master was meditating in the carriage. His qi stirred slightly in greeting but otherwise he made no mention of Wu Hao's return, nor did it so much as twitch when Wu Hao pulled his sleeping bag from his own spatial storage and laid it on the ground to sleep.

Wu Hao would have preferred to dream of nothing, but instead he dreamt of the war that he had seen, years in the future. But whereas he had simply stood far on the sidelines during the actual war, this time he was right there, in the middle. All around him people were begging him, their voices too distant to make out any of the words.

He had no clue what to make of it, but he was glad to be awake.

Then that gladness ruined by the fact that his eyes found a glowing array, painted into the ground around him. He had been transported without the slightest twinge in his sleep, noticing nothing. For a moment he wondered if it was a dream, but then his sleepy eyes cleared and he began to read the array around him.

If he misplaced even a single foot while trying to step outside the small zone that was free of lines, then he'd be shocked by a jolt of electricity. It wouldn't do much more than sting, but it would still sting like hell.

"You're awake," the master said. "Good."

He hadn't slept. Most martial artists of the first-grade apparently didn't need to anymore, which presumably extended to the master himself.

"You'll notice the array I've painted around your sleeping area," master Shu said. "You know what it does, I shall presume. If not, you'll find out soon enough. Something of my teachings you might have noticed is that I consider every moment to be a teachable moment. Hence you shall now attempt to escape the array which I've placed around you."

"Why?" Wu Hao asked.

"Because I say so," the master said. He got to his feet. "And because if you don't, you'll be late for the breakfast I've got stored in my spatial storage. I've got a few good buns left, I think, and a rather excellent heating array to make sure they're nice and warm. If you don't make it here in by the time they're gone, then you'll have to do with cold oats or perhaps no breakfast at all."

"Oats?" Wu Hao said. "Like the horses eat?"

"Exactly. That should be motivation enough, no? Until then."

He stepped away leisurely, humming a little melody to himself. He pulled a well-stuffed bun out of nowhere and waved it at Wu Hao, then leaned against the carriage and watched Wu Hao as if studying a dancing monkey.

Gritting his teeth, Wu Hao shook his head to clear the last of the sleep from his head. He stared down into the lines of the array.

It was a work of art. Finer than anything he'd ever created, that was for sure. Nonetheless there were a few gaps, here and there, which were broad enough to step on, clear of any qi to use. Wu Hao raised his foot, ready to simply throw himself outside the array, but a creeping instinct told him to look where he was going first.

Writing, nearly illegible, hovered against the edge of the circle that made up the array. All together it formed a wall that would unload the entire array's worth of shocks into his system if he touched it. There was a small gap there, yes, but it wasn't broad enough to fit through.

And, looking closer, he saw the small points where his foot could have stood weren't actually spots he could stand on without being shocked. There were thin lines that lead directly to those spots, broken only by an open space. If he had put his foot down, considering the natural way in which qi was conducted by skin, that would have completed the lines and he would have been shocked.

Another trap, then. The only way that Wu Hao saw to try and disrupt the array was in fact not to step on the open spots at all but to first unravel the array from within.

Nearby, master Shu yawned very loudly.

"Come on," he said casually. "I don't have all morning, brat."

Scowling, Wu Hao worked out the ways in which the array worked. There were a few lines that routed the qi through the ground, and in fact if he stepped on those in the right order then the charges for the shocks would be expended without being able to hurt him. The obvious safe spots had been a trap, but this way they could still be useful to him.

Ten very carefully considered steps later, he was free. Master Shu waved a hand and the array sank into the ground as if it had never been. Wu Hao retrieved his sleeping bag, which had surprised him with its comfort. It was a long, long distance from this to the Red Dawn Sect's sleeping arrangements, or even his own while he'd been making his way to Chongqing.

If master Shu was disappointed that he hadn't been shocked to death then he hid it well.

"Here," he said, passing Wu Hao a bun and a canteen of water.

Wu Hao inspected the bun just in case, but it wasn't trapped or cursed or anything like it. In fact, it smelled delicious and warm. He took a careful first bite, but he tasted nothing wrong, either, only high-quality pork and soft dough, warmed to perfection. The water was chilled but not icy, too, and he was handed another bun without even needing to ask for one.

"Why buns?" he asked.

Master Shu raised an eyebrow. "I've another book on the subject of food, if you'd like to learn."

Wu Hao shuddered. Four more days, he thought to himself. Four more days. Reading, training, and more reading.

Even he might not survive.