They say that night the streets ran red
Every man in the city bled
And the harrowing night's death's call
Could be heard through heavy rainfall
It was tattered ghost's bloodshed
- Emperor Ziran's words, in the scripts of what his scribe wrote down for the empire's records
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She smiled wider, rain fled the skies, anxious to join the blood she'd shed on the ground.
She began to laugh in delight, her bottleneck, and seals to hold back her presence, suddenly broke, unlocking fully, as she spiked into the 4th level, she raised her arms, power flowed in from everywhere, she leapt off the ground, flying up, away from the demonic army that flooded the ground below.
It was said the tower was built with six corners. This way, it would be impossible for one to ever bring it down, afterall, with six corners, and triangular walls extending from each corner, there was nothing that could shake such a base.
She flew higher. Each step of hers so light, propelling her upwards, gravity wasn't her enemy, and droplets were her friends. This footwork. A familiar pale green figure appeared in her mind's eye, as she rose into the air. Stepping on droplets, a familiar pale hand, a familiar white sword embedded in her chest. A kind smile, a vicious glare. Memories. Love. Abandonment. Betrayal.
Her life. It was one betrayal. Where had it all begun? Who had been the first one? Why did she even dare to love someone again?
Thoughts crossed her mind as she rose, until she set foot on the very spire of the tower. She looked below.
Small masses now. Everyone just looked so small. The demon lord raised his vicious broad blade. "There will be no escape for you!"
She just smiled, raising the white jade, she finally screamed in pain, not in pain for her current wounds, the pain from the past resurfacing, the pain in her heart, breaking out of her, just. Just for one. Moment.
The blade descended. It swept downwards, the qi couldn't even be seen anymore, merely the roof tiles parted, but it her cut didn't stop there, it continued to descend, the demon lord below watched in horror as his tower was split in two. However, its shape was built in such a way, this wasn't enough. The triangles keeping it upright.
New images flashed her mind, dark hair, red-like eyes, a sharp hand, hurting her, then drawing her close, another whip of her blade, the building split again.
This time, he was tall, a pleasant smile on his face, he touched her gently. Beautiful words echoed through her. She screamed again. This time, when her blade descended, creating a third line, she had finally broken every triangle of the hexagon.
She leapt off, onto the ground, she smirked at the demon lord. "Watch this." And then, with a sweep of her blade, the tower's base was split apart, the tower began to lean toward them. Demons fled from her at the sight. She leapt upwards again, sword above her head, piercing through the descending tower, to land on top of it, dust setting quickly in the rain, as she stood over the fallen tower.
"I hate," munched the demon lord. "How you keep making good on your word, tattered demon."
She chuckled. "Let's see if you can prevent it, demon boy."
They once more crossed blades. This time, although she had temporarily risen into the fourth level, her wounds greatly hindered her, especially the one on her waist, and his attack seemed to knock all the breath out of her. She quickly removed herself from the clash, leaping back. He let her, his mobility hindered by her previous jab at his leg. However, the moment she attempted to flee past him, he disregarded his leg, nimbly matching her stride, to block her exit, once again, their blades clashed. The bones in her arm and shoulder all rattled in that moment, she faltered, he pressed, seeing the opening, took it. However, from the start, it had been a feint, a painful, sacrificial feint, but the moment he slung the blade out from himself, severing into briefly into her collarbone, she had leapt into his space, out of his large swinging radius, the backhand of her blade hit his temple, his wounded left hand turned into a claw, reaching for her waist, she barely had time to spin around him, the claw digging out the skin of her right side, but just faster than him, the jade jabbed deep into the back of his good leg, he fell to his knees again, her blade flew to his neck, leaning against him, panting for a second.
"You," she panted, "Call yourself the demon lord, and yet, don't use any of the demon lord's martial arts??" She chuckled, cutting the tendons of his last good arm, before leaping away. If he wanted to pursue martial arts in the future, only the demon lord's origin martial arts would be an option. That, or the west's strange tricks.
There was still an army that blocked her way out, but her breath did not once falter. She had cuts still running all the way over and through her, her side and stomach and collar bleeding relentlessly, still she did not stop, and once again slaughtered her way down the road, her blade becoming slower with every step she made, from exhaustion, her qi running thin, and yet they did not decrease in valor or strength, blood and water flowed hand in hand, running down the street in a torrent. She wondered if a day like this had been destined when crafting a street like this. But the shining black street, the pride of the demonic cult, ran bright red today, as she reached the end, and glanced up.
There, on the wall, a white figure stood. Posture straight and bright against the night sky.
Oh no.
Not him.
Would this really be the end of her?
The white hare, one of the ancients, she'd fought him before, and survived. But it hadn't been easy back then. Would it be easier now? She doubted. Her arm trembled, pain from the multitude of wounds flaring for a moment, she leapt up, dancing in the rain, as she flew higher. She stepped lithely onto the wall, her white blade, bleeding red still, dripping down its edge, onto the stone.
She glanced across to him, he glanced at her. He was grinning, laughing, excited. He'd been so frustrated last time he couldn't kill her, this, she knew. He must have heard about an attack, already on his way, had hurried faster, she had already been here too long, she needed to make it back in time. There was no time. No time. She had to be back before dawn. The white hare, the fastest man she'd ever met, could outrun even the clouds. This man was so dangerous, even the demon lord himself didn't dare command him. The only reason he didn't want to lead the demonic cult was because he was not a direct line of the demon lord. Nor did he have any intention of leaning the demon lord's martial arts.
"Will you stop me?" She asked. "I did you a favor, you know. He's waiting, he's waiting for your kind words to send him off."
The White Hare stood there, 3rd level of grandmaster, his old injuries completely healed, his ankles close together, he fawned. "I do, indeed, owe you a great favor, but it seems I can't get over losing you that one time."
Ah, that time, she remembered it with a broken smile. Yes, back then.
In a different world, they two would've been fast friends. Unfortunately, in this world…it was impossible. The Hare had moved, disappearing from where he stood, and yet, she simply closed her eyes, her blade flew up, water sprayed out, a sharp tingling sound echoed over the wall. She'd caught his vicious nails with her blade, she glanced up at him. "I may be wounded, but I'm no waste and you know it."
Did he really think to use his standard move on her? No. she leapt away, as his foot raced upward, it would have lopped off her own if her movements had been slower, a sharp blade extended from each foot. He didn't back down, and neither did she. Her breath wanted to come in gulps, but she forced it down, forcing it down, only keeping her breaths in sync with her moves. Her forehead throbbed from the headache of doing so, her entire body groaned in protest, but her qi went wild with joy, following her every movement, happy to disregard her body for the chance to blend with the indomitable urge of nature. The rain blurring her sight so much, she had nothing else but to follow the will of her qi against his. And yet, in this moment, she suddenly reached a new epiphany. Her realm soared, higher and higher, qi from nature itself, not accumulated over years of hard training, but merely from the air around them, bent inwards, flowing into her movements, solidifying her 4th level of grandmaster, each blade slice, and palm flick, matching his own pace, so fine, so perfect, even the air began to bend less and less, almost obscure in her every subtle slash. And yet, deadly. So deadly. Wherever a cut fell, the wall was slit completely through to its base. The white hare also felt the power. Gritting his teeth. His hands, turned to claws, leapt at her relentlessly, her movements slowed, he was waiting for an opportunity; she was exhausted, she was crippled from her wounds, how could she keep fighting like this? It was only a matter of time! He began to get beaten back, step by step, right hand, left hand, right foot, right hand, left foot, right hand, left hand, elbow, no matter what he swung at her, all he got was no blood, but a response as blood thirsty as his own. He gritted his teeth, clacking them, making the snapping chuckling noise he usually made before a kill. His hand breached her defenses, in a moment of exhaustion, digging even deeper into her already bloodied right side. She grunted at the attack, but she leapt away
He'd finally broken her onslaught, but to her surprise, he pressed no onslaught of his own.
He just stood there, straight, silently, a small expression of amusement on his face.
She waited, the longer she waited without action, the more restless her qi became, the more aware of the pain in her body she was.
She blinked, shaking her head to clear it, he didn't strike.
She glared at him. "I, really, really, don't like you." She grumbled.
"Hahahaha." He smiled, licking her blood off his left hand. "At least our feelings are finally mutual."
She had no option. There was no defense in this battle, he would tire her to her death, or she would risk it all and win. She showed her right side again, he didn't fall for the feint. Instead, when he moved to attack her shoulder, her blade went after his wrist instead. She had barely flicked it, when he drew it back. His hands were more precious than even a potential death blow to her. His smile was dimming, making her a little happier, she flew at him again, this time, she chose complete offense, her blade had barely touched his waist, when he took the opportunity to grasp at her own left hand. She drew the blade back, but whipped it upward, to force back that claw, while her right hand blocked the left claw from an attack at her waist again. This block was partially fallible, and the claw, much stronger from her own hand, easily cut through the sinews of her right hand's knuckles, leaving her fingers potentially inoperable.
At that moment, her eyes flashed, as if in rage that someone would touch that hand, as if no cut before that even compared to the damage done to that hand.
Her blade turned merciless, she slammed her entire body at him, his left hand latched to her waist again, in response her own blade sent a vicious cut up his arm, disappearing, and reappearing when finished, his eyes widened, but in this moment, she had incidentally opened up her chest for an attack, his right hand plunged toward her, she, having no option for defense, sent her blade for his neck, he took the hit, as it drove into his collarbone, blood was soaked up by his white clothing, greedily spreading across his chest like a blossoming flower. It had landed right below her desired target, since right at that moment, something cold and hard had ripped open her chest, hindering her attack, as a hand pulled from her broken ribs a still beating heart, It pumped in his hand for a moment, bright red, as rain beat down on it, clutched in his white claw.