AIR Chapter 88-92 The Monk and The Monk

Chapter 88 The Monk and The Monk Part 1

Gai Jin was bathed in rage, as he always was. He chased and chased, through the sky, through the air, through the ground at times, but the old man evaded him. He always evaded him. 

He had filled his coffers with stones wrought of demonic qi. He had turned on his duty, using the thing beneath to grow rich instead of keeping it down like he should have. 

But Gai Jin had received something from the demonic corpse as well. 

Battle. Pain. Power. Growth. 

He had borne the consequences of Gai Lui’s actions. He had broken ten thousand demons and he had broken ten thousand more. 

He had drunk their blood when he ran out of water, and he had eaten their flesh when he had run out of rats. 

He remembered the first time he had done it. Demonic qi eats at you. It was poison to a monk like him. It was hell. 

But it was either hell on earth or a slow-waning death, and Gai Jin had too much rage to die in that pit alone. He had learned to cleanse it from his flesh. He had forced his stomach to digest. The Bloody Fist Technique was their holy script, a technique passed down from a seventh-rank immortal.

And Gai Jin had twisted it, mixing and matching parts of it with an old poison-eating technique. The result was a lesser thing, a disrespect to the technique. But Gai Jin had no choice. 

And that had been the start of his survival. Refine the stomach, refine the legs, refine the skull, bones, and muscle, over and over again. Eat demons, drink blood, and grow stronger. 

He killed evil, he ate evil, and he bathed in it. 

And yet he remained good. Not a bit of him had been spoiled, not a part of him taken. He who had been sent to die in the pit as a mere third rank, had lived. 

For all his suffering, he had grown.

Ninth Step of the Fifth Rank, on the precipice of immortality. He had reached the Dragon’s Gate, and now all he had to do was leap over it. 

Gai Jin smiled. The expression felt foreign to him, but it wasn’t one filled with joy. 

Immortality was a strange thing. It was never something he had strived for. He wanted to be a great monk, a great person. He wanted to be the type of person he had thought his master was. 

Cultivation, well, that was a path to greatness. It was the means through which he could do good. He was a monk and as some might use a broom or a shovel, he used his qi. The strength was important, but more than that, his dao was important. 

He had to know his path to traverse it. More than the power and the lifespan, he sought his dao. 

And this was the final step. He had to make and choose the thing that would make him immortal, carve out the shadow of his being. It could still change and grow afterward, but a dao was a path after all. It could lead you anywhere, you could make turns and twists and change it as you grew. 

But a wrong turn could get you lost. And if you went the wrong way, well how long would it be until you knew it? How far would you travel until turning back would take too much of you to do so?

You choose the road, but not the journey. 

Gai Jin leapt and the ground beneath him shattered. He flew through clouds and thunder, rain, and fog. 

There was no use in silence. His opponent had something to detect him with, one of the many treasures he’d gained from allowing that demonic qi to roam free. 

He struck. His master moved.

They were equals in rank, the ninth step of the fifth rank. Equal in power, but far different in technique. 

Gai Jin moved. 

The air screamed at his force and even the clouds above parted in agony. The rain went up and the earth was broken, and Gai Lui blocked.

Flesh met metal. Gai Lui had a shield, another treasure. The echoes of the strike went through them both and the shield threw Gai Jin backwards. 

Enough of this! His master yelled. 

He had spoken with qi and with aura because his mouth would have been far too slow. The words were instant and all at once. 

But Gai Jin didn’t spare them an ounce of thought. He ran back at him with fists that would make even iron. He struck, with both hands this time, one from the left, one from the right. 

Gai Lui chose to block the one from the right and Gai Lui’s right hand turned from a fist to a palm. He grabbed the shield and pain shot through his right arm, tearing at all his muscles and nerves. 

Death qi.

It was no use. Gai Jin’s right hand remained, pulling the shield and Gai Lui with it. His left hand hammered against his opponent’s forearm. 

And Gai Lui bled. 

In battle, technique mattered. Strength mattered, as well as ability. And while Gai Jin and Gai Lui were tied in those, they differed in three important ways. 

Gai Jin had mastered the Bloody Fist technique completely, incorporating its principles not only into his fist but his legs, skin, and even stomach. 

That was the first difference.

Gai Jin struck again and this time, Gai Lui bled. 

Gai Lui pushed more qi into the shield and it in turn pushed more death qi into Gai Jin’s arm. 

Gai Jin let go, his left arm hanging limply for a second. 

Gai Lui moved, punching with his shield hand, using the edge of the shield to try and attack Gai Jin. 

But Jin moved with him, leaping into the attack with all his fury. Lui would strike him from the right, this would be true. But Jin would strike him from the left. 

Gai Lui’s unshielded arm still bled and as the two met each other, Lui brought the shield in front of him. Gai Jin’s fist rang against the shield and again it echoed, pushing Gai Jin back and hundred paces. 

“Coward,” Gai Jin said.

Gai Lui pushed a movement technique. The Monk’s Holy Steps. 

Gai Jin matched him. He was a disciple of the Bloody Fist Sect after all. And not just any disciple, but the direct disciple of the soon-to-be Patriarch. He had access to all the manuals he could ever want. He could use any art he sought. 

And Gai Jin had sought them all. 

They were even in everything except three things and of those three, Gai Jin was better at two. 

Gai Jin was gaining on him. It was the same technique, but in Gai Jin’s hands, it was better, faster. 

The second difference was talent. 

Gai Lui had killed a mortal just to be able to raise Gai Jin himself. He had seen the boy’s potential and wanted to nourish him. His lower dantian alone was a rare thing, a one-in-a-billion talent. But that had been just one part of the boy’s gifts.

He could use techniques in an amazing way. Refine them, mix them, make them into something new, or touch the core of them like no one else could. His mind was keen. He never forgot and ideas that would be complex to his peers seemed like mere math to the boy. 

And even now at the fifth stage, that talent shone. 

The Monk’s Holy Steps were a third more effective in Gai Jin’s hand than in Gai Lui’s. Gai Jin had almost caught up in an instant. 

Gai Lui prepared the shield and took out another treasure.

The third difference was materialistic. It was something that could be taken away, something that could be lost. But here in the midst of battle, it meant everything. 

Wealth. 

Treasures gained from merchants that came in from outside of the region, talismans made within the Void Blade Empire’s true territory. Objects from where the empire’s soldiers actually stood guard and taxed the denizens.

Artifacts. 

Gai Lui smacked his talisman and speed came upon him. He was close now. He could see the dry desert lands in the distance and it called to him like paradise. 

All those other attempts, while some had been tests, most had been distractions. Moments, when Gai Jin’s rage was focused on him, allowed his sect to slowly move his wealth into the Great Desert Strip. 

Treasures and spirit stones for his tribute. He had gathered many things, so many that they could not be stored in a single spacial ring, or even a thousand of them. The immortal had kept him out, forcing the teleport sequences away, but surely this would change his mind. 

Gai Lui had prepared his wealth and moved it slowly with the merchants. If worse came to be, he would tell the immortal the source of his wealth and let him have it. 

He found himself lighter, moving at least twice as fast. Gai Lui looked back and sensed Gai Jin growing distant, as much as the man tried to keep up. 

He had sought death the last time he was here, but that had been foolish. It would have been a worthy death, to be killed by an immortal, a death full of pride. 

But that had failed. The man had seen straight through him.

Now he would enter his domain, asking him only one thing. To keep his rule, to honor his promise. 

To make sure no violence would happen within the Great Desert Strip, by the pride of the Immortal Oasis Sect. 

His pride was hurt by that, but not too much. 

To Gai Lui, he was not running from death or pain. He was running from shame. 

The shame he has hidden so thoroughly came out and chased him under the guise of his disciple. 

He had only killed the whore because she was unworthy of raising such a blessed child. She was shameful. But now that act of cleansing had come back and turned into a horrible thing, a stain he alone couldn’t wash out. 

Chapter 89 The Monk and The Monk Part 2

Gai Lui ran through the lands that were next to the Great Desert Strip. He was nervous, not so much about Gai Jin’s fury but more so about the immortal. He had enough wealth to make his plea be heard and enough to even be allowed shelter within the sect, he presumed. 

He just didn’t know if the immortal would let him into the Great Desert Strip.

On the question of killing Gai Jin, well it was impossible. At least it was impossible to do so effectively. Gai Jin was a monster of talent, and with those movement techniques, he could flee and outrun whatever threats pursued him, as long as they were under the immortal rank. 

It would take five fifth ranks above the seventh step to ensure his death, and it would take five more to prevent his escape. Gai Lui could pay for that, but how much more would it cost to keep his secrets?

If Gai Jin yelled with his qi, the truth would spread and Gai Lui’s shame would be known. 

He should have killed him back then, back when he had initially figured it out, but how could he? Gai Jin was his child, his prodigy, his son. 

His pride. 

Even now he loved the boy the same way a farmer loved his champion bull. 

Smart, capable, talented, and bright. 

What a beautiful thing he had raised. He couldn't allow himself to kill it back then, so he had sent him to the demons to spare his hands of the shame. 

His younger sister had escaped, the whore. Gai Lui would have killed her, but eventually, the hunt for her would cost more than he had and by the time he had gained enough from the spirit mine to afford her death, she simply wasn’t worth it anymore.

She was just some strange prostitute. What could she have said to bring him down? What could she have done to touch him?

Nothing. 

And had she said something, any minor insult, that would have given him an excuse to go publically kill her himself, regardless of whatever sect’s territory she had hidden in. 

With her silence, Gai Lui thought he had won. 

He had taken kindly to his rank and brought nothing but prosperity to the Bloody Fist Sect. He had helped people. Millions of people, from poor farmers to rich merchants. He had set up holy sites and temples in other sects' territories, spreading the teachings of Buddha onward. 

He was prideful, true. But pride was good. It was because of his pride he had done good. He remembered first cultivating the path of monkhood, his first steps, and the compliments of his abbot. He remembered the rewards for his success, the admiration, the praise.

He wanted it. 

A monk served the people and the people’s reactions were evidence of that. He cared about those underneath him. Virtue? Righteousness? How vague were these things? How stifled. 

A man loved by his wife was a good husband. A king loved by his people was a good king. And a monk loved by humanity was a good monk.  

The weight of his actions were measured by none except those below. Their praise, their worship gave clearance to his actions. 

Gai Lui was a good man most times, a great man even. But he had made mistakes. 

No, he had taken risks. And one of those risks chased behind him. He had done the right thing within the moment, he believed. He had killed the whore, but so what? She was filth desecrating his holy city and tempting monks on wayward paths. 

Her death was quick and painless. Her kind were shameful and disgusting. 

What else was he to do?

His pride as a monk, as a cultivator, wouldn’t let her raise that child by herself. He was too much, too amazing. 

Gai Jin should have thanked him for the action. Gai Lui had given him a chance at power, maybe even at immortality. For the life of a whore he had gained everything. 

But Gai Jin didn’t see it that way. 

Children often don’t, Gai Lui thought. 

********

Gai Jin couldn’t read Gai Lui’s thoughts, but he could read his aura and for him, that was enough. 

There was fear, anxiety, sadness, betrayal.

Gai Lui felt betrayed. Gai Lui who had slaughtered his sister. Gai Lui who profited from a demon’s corpse. Gai Lui who had thrown him into hell for the sake of keeping his own hands clean. 

And there was not a bit of regret there, but he dared to feel betrayed?

If rage was a man it would have been Gai Jin. He pushed, circulating his qi through his meridians. A familiar pathway, one slightly modified and improved, churned with qi. 

This specific technique required control and immense concentration. It was a vastly modified version of the Monk’s Holy Steps. 

The Monk’s Holy Steps was a pure movement technique, separate from any combat use, meaning that the meridians and lesser dantians it ran through were useful only for the use of movement. 

Techniques shaped the cultivator, like the slow flow of water carving out mountains, the flow of qi through one’s body optimized and refined those meridian pathways for efficiency. The Monk’s Holy Steps was a great movement technique, but the meridian pathway it created was stifled.

It was designed for speed and only speed. It wasn’t a mid-battle movement technique, it was an escape technique. And it was the greatest one the Bloody Fist Sect had. 

What Gai Jin did next was both complex and simple, he ran with his hands as well as his feet. 

The original technique focused on a person’s lower limbs, but Gai Jin had altered it to be effective with his hands as well, in pursuit of a more combat-oriented technique. 

He had wanted to empower his hands and run with his legs, giving his fists power while running. It didn’t compare to the Bloody Fist Technique, but it would have fixed the one problem of the technique.

But it could also be used like this, to run like an animal. 

Gai Jin rushed. The altered technique cost twice as much qi, and it changed the whole rhythm of his run. He was also weaker and more vulnerable. 

He looked like an unkempt animal, running after the monk with his scarred skin and matted hair. He kept on all fours, using each limb to propel himself off the ground and into the air.

The air fought him and the earth lost chunks of dirt as he dug at the ground with every step. Craters the size of a house were the holes each step made and they grew bigger with speed. 

He was as fast as a meteor, as deadly as a falling star. If they passed through a city now, all within it would burn. 

But they both avoided civilians, though each monk had different reasons, and quickly they reached the edge of the desert area. 

Gai Lui’s path was winding, but Gai Jin had kept up, if from a growing distance. 

They had woven around the edge of the desert for a while before Gai Lui had burst in.

And to Gai Lui’s joy, he had not been stopped. 

The Great Five Sects had seen it happen now. There were several confrontations amongst fifth rank and to all the powerful families, it would be wonderful entertainment. 

The other four heads of the five sects had already set their attention to it and now, even from a distance, they were watching. 

Earth turned to sand and the qi in the air thinned. 

If Gai Lui wasn’t so busy fleeing he might have noticed that there was now qi with the land. 

It took them half a second to reach the village. And the whole chase had only lasted just about seven seconds in total. The earth in most places hadn’t completely settled from their steps. The sky behind them carried a dust cloud that trailed back a thousand miles.

These were cultivators of course. Two beings on the precipice of Immortality. As slow and open as their fight had been to them, it would have seemed instant to a mortal’s eye.

It hadn’t even been twenty seconds since Gai Jin had called his old master a coward. 

Chapter 90 The Monk and The Monk Part 3

“No.”

It was a simple word, one filled with firm rebuke, but Gai Lui still couldn’t understand it. 

The immortal had refused him. The immortal had refused him. 

“I offer you all my wealth Honored Immortal Bill, I beseech you for aid in my time of-”

“No,” the word repeated. 

Of course, this was all a conversation of qi. There wasn’t enough time to spend on actual back and forth. Gai Jin would have caught up to him already had he used actual words. 

But the answer had been given and the rejection was made known. 

“You would go back on your word then? You would allow violence within the area of the Great Desert Strip? So quickly you renege on your laws? It’s a wonder your dao didn’t break sooner.”

Now Gai Lui was seeking death, death at the hands of the immortal that is. A far more prideful thing than death at his own wronged student’s hands. 

“This is not a haven for scum, you twisted monk.”

That was all. Those were the words but that was all it took for Gai Lui’s face to twist in horror.

He knew. How did he know?

The answer came to him along with Gai Jin’s fists. 

The girl, he thought as his body sped across the sand.

He knew he should have killed her. A maggot shouldn’t be spared because it was not a fly. 

Gai Lui prepared himself.

It seemed the worst had come. He would fight his disciple, and one of them would die. 

What a bittersweet thing, he thought. To fight your greatest pupil to the death. 

There was a type of pride there too, an ugly one.

Gai Lui prepared himself, face still calm and mind still kept. 

He was ready. 

“Do you not feel a single bit of pity? A single bit of regret?” Gai Jin spoke. 

“To regret would be shameful,” Gai Lui replied. “And I am not ashamed, my dear Jin.”

The first movement of the Bloody Fist came down upon him like lightning. 

Gai Jin struck and the weight of the skies was within his fists.

Gai Lui blocked, the metal ornate shield rising to defend him. There was an echo, a ding, but the Jin did not back away. 

No, another echo, then another, then another. Fists bloody and dying hailed the shield like falling stars. The desert rang with death death-filled sound. 

The death qi ran into Gai Jin’s veins, but Jin still struck. Lui’s eyes widened at the action. This was a fifth rank ninth step treasure, meaning it held the strength of a cultivator of the equivalent rank. 

It had cost him one hundred-fifth rank stones of the highest quality, each mined from the depths of the earth. It was a treasure that had taken him a century to earn. 

And it was failing. 

Still, Gai Lui hadn’t realized the error in his calculations. 

There was a fourth difference. 

Gai Jin’s fists hammered against the shield and the shield was slowly draining off qi, forcing more death in Jin’s arms. His fists should have rotted off by now. They should have been two lifeless limbs dangling from his body. 

And though they were black and scarred and rotting, they remained. Healing, pushing out, and cleansing Gai Jin’s body. 

Gai Lui growled and slammed the shield forward and attacked. A sword came from his storage ring and a robe appeared on him as well. 

Two golden boots replaced his fabric shoes, and Gai Lui roared.

This was his peak. Each treasure he carried now would be a priceless treasure for any sect of the region, even the five great ones. 

Cultivators rarely wore armor. That wasn’t a mere stylistic choice, it was also a financial one. Armour for a third rank would crumble beneath the force of a fourth rank, and the same could be said for weapons. 

It was already a burden for a sect to procure swords and weapons for their people. Smiths would toil over metal, enchanting it, forging it, into something better, and the higher ranked the cultivator the greater the weapon needed to be. 

And as the rank of the cultivator increased, the reliance on conventional material decreased. What was the difference between fabric and metal to a fifth rank? They, who could level mountains and carve out canyons?

It was negligible at best. Enchanted fabric was the same as enchanted armor to them. Thus, beauty is mixed with strength. 

A long flowing dragon-patterned robe hung on Gai Lui’s shoulders. A valuable treasure. It was made of dragon skin and the tapestry alone would make it be worth twice as much as the shield. 

In battle, many things mattered, but what mattered the most was ability. 

What you could do, regardless of how you did it.

Gai Jin was strong, talented, and had mastered techniques that Gai Lui hadn’t even bothered to memorize. And that had all been born out of need, out of hunger and threat of death. 

But there was also one more thing Gai Lui had forgotten. 

Experience. Gai Lui thought he had more of it than Gai Jin but while Lui was leading his sect, Jin was suffering. 

He had eaten demons. He had drunk their blood. He had invited their very natures into his body. When compared to that, what was a little bit of death qi?

Gai Jin's arms began to shed as he expanded his qi to heal them. He stood still now, not out of fear but thought. 

Lui watched Jin. 

Both had prepared, but neither had expected the other to be this strong. 

“You call yourself a monk and yet you fight with a sword and shield?” Gai Jin asked.

“Monkhood is the path and these weapons are merely the means by which I get there.”

“What monk kills-”

Gai Lui blurred and a sword appeared at Jin’s neck. 

Jin moved, raising his newly healed flesh to defend, and the sword cut to the bone.

Jin stepped back but Gai Lui struck again. He couldn’t let Gai Jin finish that sentence. He couldn't let the monk announce to the whole world what he had done. 

Gai Lui didn’t think of it as a sin. He had merely killed a whore. But many would hold it against him and then it would become a sin. It would define him. 

He couldn't let Gai Jin speak. 

Gai Jin defended, blocking strikes with breaking hands. His skin burst open, sometimes being sliced off, other times the sword meeting his bones. 

The Bloody Fist Sect was a refining technique, but even within the depths of the demonic cave, nothing like this blade had touched Gai Jin. His technique was to perpetually face stronger enemies, reforging his fists into something stronger and capable. 

But Gai Jin had never faced such treasures within the demonic cave. Right now, even if the mad cultivator of old was still alive, it would be Gai Lui who was the strongest within the region. 

Each treasure coursed with power, and each treasure contained its own qi, meaning it was not depleting Gai Lui’s qi as he used it. It was as if Gai Lui had five cultivators aiding him. No, it was more than that. It was as if Gai Lui fought with the strength of five cultivators, each with different arts. 

A sword art, a shield art, a movement art, a body enhancing art, and of course Gai Lui’s own power. 

Five into one was much worse than five separate beings. It was not only the power Gai Jin had to worry about now but also the layering effects of each artifact. A simple strike of the sword turned into something six times more deadly when aided by the speed of those boots and the enhancing effect of that robe. 

Gai Jin’s mind worked, studying the auras of each artifact. They couldn’t produce qi, nothing non-living could do that and this was no legendary living weapon. But they each held power and a strike from that sword would be something like a fifth-rank ninth step’s all-out attack. 

Lui moved. 

He used the Monk’s Holy Steps enhanced with both the robe and boots and ran at him, blurring at the edge of Jin’s perception. 

Trajectory, weapon use, experience. Gai Jin thought of all these things now, trying to predict where the strike would be before it got to him.

But it was too late.

A blade pierced his chest, cutting through his heart. 

Gai Lui looked Stoic as he murdered his own disciple. He was annoyed it had come to this. These treasures had been bought recently. Another ray of hope that had arrived in the form of an immortal merchant greeting Strong Fist City. A merchant’s dao, something that led them to where they were needed the most, and to where they could earn the most. 

He had been all too happy to buy them, of course. And he planned to use them to rebuild his sect after Gai Jin. Even if he had lost all his wealth to the immortal, even if the immortal suddenly took interest in the corpse, these treasures would have been his windfall. 

The merchants might have overcharged him, but that was little price to pay for victory. 

This was what Gai Lui might have thought and done if it wasn’t for the immediate fist that crashed against his face. 

Bloody Fist Technique, Final Art, Barrage of Blood.

Gai Lui felt hell upon his face and Gai Jin struck. Even skewered on a sword Gai Jin fought back. Even on the brink of death Gai Jin fought back.

After all, he was the best disciple of the Bloody Fist Sect, and their’s was the path of pain. Fight till you're bloody, fight till you can’t, and even then, fight on.

What was this to the hell of the demonic cave? He had slain fifth-rank creatures as a mere fourth-rank down there. 

What was this suffering to that?

Gai Jin roared.

Chapter 91 The Monk and The Monk Part 4

Gai Lui reeled and kicked Jin off of his blade. The strength of the golden boots pushed and Gai Jin went flying. 

He landed a hundred paces away, hands clutching his chest but still standing. Gai Jin’s hands flashed and a small brown orb appeared in them. 

Gai Lui’s eyes widened but before he could do anything, Gai Jin swallowed the core. Then, even as he stood, Gai Jin went limp. 

And for a moment there was silence. 

“I don’t get it,” an old farmer grumbled. “Can’t they just talk it out? And what was that thing he just ate?”

“A demonic core,” the immortal’s voice replied. 

There were more people here now. All the cultivators within the valley had appeared, everyone watching with wide eyes and silence. They were at least a mile away, and though they should have been hurt and running from the shockwaves, if one looked around they would see no permanent damage to the landscape or the people here. 

The immortal was protecting them. 

Gai Lui ignored them and walked slowly to Gai Jin. Eating a demonic core was suicide, especially for a monk like him. Demonic qi was the antithesis of a monk’s. Monks like him slayed demons, so why would the boy-

Gai Jin’s eyes opened and putrid death left his skin. His body began to heal at a visible rate, cuts closed up, and old flesh dropped to the ground as new growth filled its place. 

Somewhere, a haughty immortal babbled. 

“The core concept of the Bloody Fist Technique is refinement, to refine the fist over through battle and pain. But Gia Jin took that idea to a whole new level. If you can refine your fists, then why not your legs, your lungs, your organs, even your dantians-”

“PREPOSTEROUS!” Gai Lui roared, turning to the immortal and staring at him even through the mile divide. 

“I HAVE USED THIS TECHNIQUE FOR CENTURIES, AND WITHIN THE SECT I AM THE ONE WHO HAS MASTERED IT BEYOND ALL. IF THERE WAS SOMETHING GREATER WITHIN IT, I WOULD HAVE KNOWN.”

“No you wouldn’t,” the immortal replied, ignoring the disrespect of the outburst. 

“That guy over there had to experiment with his growth. It was either that or death. You took it as it was and held it still. You probably thought, ‘What a beautiful technique. So strong and elegant. I think I’ll keep it that way,’ and went about with your life. That guy experimented, almost dying during the process, but he experimented nonetheless. He grew.”

Gai Lui didn’t get the chance to reply, as a freshly healed Gai Jin struck him in the face. 

Bloody Fist Technique, Final Art, Barrage of Blood.

A torment of fists came down on Gai Lui once more. He was still in shock, surprised at Gai Jin’s consumption of a demonic core, but the pain forced him to respond quickly. 

He slammed Gai Jin’s hands away with the shield and moved to stab again, this time thrusting for the head. 

Gai Jin sunk, his head dodging the blade and his leg kicking out, striking his old master in the stomach. 

And it hurt.

It was worse than a fist, as a kick tended to be. The legs had more muscle, more mass, and in this case, more qi. 

Gai Jin had refined his body, and that included his legs. Whereas his master had covered himself with treasures, Gai Jin had turned himself into one. 

His leg was as refined as his fists. His kick was deadly. Even with the robe, Gai Lui’s body had only been enhanced, not trained. He was stronger, faster, and more deadly, but the treasure wasn’t a part of him, merely an addition. 

Gai Lui ran backward and kept speeding away from Gai Jin while he gathered his thoughts. Gai Jin still couldn’t match Lui’s speed, but he trailed him. The two danced across the desert, one searching for the throat of the other. 

Flashes of qi burst through the air and attacks that could level cities were traded over and over again. 

The demon core had been that of a fifth rank. Gai Lui hadn’t known there were beasts that powerful within that cave. His hubris and greed had helped him ignore that possibility. But Gai Jin had known and Gai Jin had slain them. 

And now he used that very same demonic qi, refined to purity deep within his dantian, as strength to carry on. 

Gai Lui was not just fighting Gai Jin, but the demons Gai Jin had slain as well. 

Lui was defending again, the shield being used more and more. Lui swung with his sword and the blade cut through Gai Jin’s flesh. 

Jin retreated before it could reach the bone, and ate another demon core. 

This time he did not go limp. Jin attacked, the demonic qi refining within his middle dantian. That, along with Gai Jin’s vast lower dantian made him a monster among the fifth ranks. 

In terms of qi reserve, he was far from Gai Lui’s match. In terms of abilities, he was still even further. Gai Lui had the treasures and each had an active effect on him, from speed to enhancements, to the sword qi the emulated sword intent. 

But what Gai Jin did have was himself. His own techniques and his own experience. His treasure was his body and he had been using it his whole life. 

The Bleeding Monk’s Persistent Steps

It was what Gai Jin had named it. It wasn’t anything amazing, at least, not to him. All he did was circulate both the Monk’s Holy Steps and Bloody Fist Technique at the same time. The two layered over each other well and were meant to be used together at lower ranks. 

The first movements of both techniques were used simultaneously by junior cultivators of the Bloody Fist Sect all the time. But as the techniques grew more powerful, the required qi grew to be too much. The techniques were powerful, but no cultivator had large enough qi reserves to use them both now. 

But Gai Jin had enough now. His qi was immense, and it needed to be used. At this moment, the limitation of the Monk’s Holy Steps grew to be its benefit. The meridian pathway the technique cultivated couldn’t be used for anything besides the technique. Meaning that the pathways used for this technique couldn’t empower any other technique. The minor dantians and enhanced meridians one grew for this technique were only useful for this technique. Normally, with the amount of qi it took to circulate, that would be one of its faults. 

The Monk’s Holy Steps were wasteful in that sense. 

But not for the Gai Jin of now. The Gai Jin of now had enough qi to circulate both techniques, and the failure of the Monk’s Holy Steps became a boon. 

The Monk’s Holy Steps were wasteful, selfish, isolated.

Gai Jin could use numerous techniques alongside it while knowing that the two would not interfere with one another. 

If fighting was cooking, then techniques were ingredients. Throw strange ingredients into a pot and they would mix into something strange, but with the Monk’s Holy Steps, it was as if Gai Jin had gained another pot. 

His legs were doubly enhanced now. Two techniques affected him and neither hurt the other. 

Gai Lui’s eyes widened, and Gai Jin was catching up. 

He swung the sword numerous times and sword qi left the blade, seeking to split Jin in two. 

Jin dodged. 

This was no Blossoming Sword Technique, and the blade wasn’t meant for ranged attacks. 

Gai Lui was wasting his qi. 

But still, Jin found himself dodging over and under the strikes. The fault of this weapon was its accuracy, not its power.

Gai Jin gained upon the man and struck again. 

Jin rushed and reached Gai Lui. 

First Jin took his speed, using one good punch from beneath. Lui used his shield to deflect, and Jin knew he would. 

In fact, he was counting on it. 

Death qi, echoing, and repulsion. That was the shield’s effect. But this time, Jin struck from the ground. He struck from the lower position, his whole body rising up to the shield, and the shield for all it tried, could not force him too deeply into the ground. 

So it lifted Gai Lui up. 

The boots left the ground and their power of enhancing technique was no more. 

Perfect. 

Gai Jin leaped, with all the power of his two techniques, jamming another demon core into his mouth. 

It was a gamble, letting the death qi in his arms and the demonic qi in his dantian coagulate while maintaining The Bleeding Monk’s Persistent Steps, which were two techniques acting as one. 

Yes, that was a profound gamble. But he’d lose this opportunity if he didn’t take it. Rage emptied his soul and though Gai Jin had left that demonic cave, his heart was still there. 

He did not want to die, but he did not want to live either. Pride, and power, these were things his master pursued, and look at where that had gotten him. 

All he had now was hatred, and he would rather die than lose that. 

Chapter 92 The Monk and The Monk Part 5

Gai Jin jumped into Gai Lui’s range once more, and this time, there was no escape for the man. 

Jin struck at Lui’s wrists with all his strength, depleting half the qi within him in an instant. Another risk, but one he needed to take to capitalize on the moment.

Lui screamed as the shield was wrought from his wrist. 

Gai Jin held it with one arm and held Lui’s sword hand with another, and struck again, only this time he had the shield. 

Lui’s other arm lost the sword. 

Death qi traveled up his left arm and unlike Gai Jin, Gai Lui could not negate it.

“No,” Lui whimpered. 

Gai moved again, this time ripping the boots from the man’s feet with a quick twist. 

And once more for the robe.

Then he tossed the treasures, all of them onto the ground. 

Gai Lui was still relatively unharmed. He was bruised in the face and his sword arm had death qi traveling through it but aside from that, Gai Jin had been the one to take up most of the damage. 

By all appearances, Gai Lui had the advantage, at least if they were truly equally matched. 

Gai Jin pushed the man onto the ground and stood firmly between his master and the treasures. 

Lui stood there, clutching his arm and working to push out the death qi Jin had cleansed so quickly during battle. 

They stood fifty paces from each other and Gai Jin chose to walk to Gai Lui.

Death at the hands of his disciple? There was pride in that, Lui knew. But there was also shame. 

In a way, Gai Jin was a bit of Gai Lui. They shared a first name due to luck and Gai Jin had changed his sure name from Fang as an old ritual, a way of shedding his past and giving it all to monkhood. 

It was a rarely practiced thing in the modern days but Gai Lui had insisted on it, if not for the fanfare then for the symbolism. Gai Fang was the younger brother of a whore. Gai Jin was a man of the Bloody Fist Sect. 

Yes. 

There was shame here. But Gai Lui could bear it if his pride would blossom. Gai Jin was Gai Lui's work after, his prized disciple.

He ran at his disciple and his disciple moved. Jin punched but Lui swept under it, entered Jin’s range, and punched toward his head. 

Jin moved, letting the attack glide past his cheek, and kneed Lui in the stomach. 

Lui bent and stumbled backward. 

But no, he would die. He knew this. He would die at the hands of his own disciple but he would be remembered. Their fight would be remembered. His death would be remembered and all would know Gai Lui as the master of the powerful Gai Jin and their fight would be remembered for millennia. 

He ran, renewed with vigor, and struck again. Jin fought back, but his punches didn’t land so thoroughly, maybe his disciple was tiring? He had used an immense amount of qi after all. 

This time a strike to the face sent him flying backwards in agony. 

Lui stood up again and moved forward. 

Jin stuck hard now, kicking at Lui’s side and while Lui blocked the strike, there was an audible crack as his bones fractured. 

Jin frowned. 

He hated Gai Lui. He hated him. His hatred for the man had been the light that had pushed him forward deep within the cave. His hatred had brought him his strength and pushed him to this moment. 

His hatred had saved him. 

He struck Gai Lui again, striking a rib this time. 

Then why? He thought. 

Again Gai Lui came at him and a few of his master’s strikes landed on him, but against his refined body, they were barely even there.

Jin struck back and missed as Gai Lui lined up for another shot. 

Jin dodged and elbowed his master in the face. 

Why do I feel this way? Jin wondered. 

He looked, but not with eyes of hatred now but with clear eyes of pity. 

He looked at the master who had raised him, who had fed him and clothed him. He who had comforted him from the storms of the high mountain. The man who had trained him for decades. 

He looked at his master, his father, his family, his betrayer. 

Why do I still care for him?

Jin moved. 

He had to end this. He had to kill this bastard of a man before anything could make him do otherwise.

He moved, true and with purpose and he fanned his hatred and for the first time, he felt it. 

Effort. 

But still, he moved. His strikes landed now, his master missed every attack and Gai Jin landed his. 

His master broke, bit by bit. 

The face, the hands, the legs. 

Bones snapped, muscles withered and his body bled. 

Now his master lay there, unmoving, waiting for Jin’s final strike.

Jin came closer. He felt it now. The weight of it all. The pain. It hurt. He didn’t know why it hurt but it hurt nonetheless. 

He raised his fist. He closed his eyes and he thought of Li Fang and the flame burned once more. 

He moved-

“You sure about that?” A voice spoke. 

Jin held and so did everything else. 

A man stood to his right, squatting over his master’s frozen form. 

“Who are you?” Gai Jin roared.

He stood to face the man, eyes focusing on his simple form. 

“Just a watcher,” the man replied. 

“Are sure about this though?” He asked again. 

Jin glanced at his master’s body. 

“Would you interfere?” Jin replied. 

“Oh no. I would have killed him already, but you took so much time and I figured I’d give you a chance to think things over.”

Jin’s eyes widened. 

“You know nothing of-”

“I know a lot kid. But that’s beside the point. He landed a few hits a while back. Hits you didn’t bother to dodge.”

Jin said nothing.

“There was also that fight you had just now. Gai Lui, I could understand. He came here first, then used the treasures as a last resort. But you? You don’t care about anything except vengeance, right? So why’d you hold back? Why not overwhelm him at once and kill him? Why stall for so long? Why let him run away when you could have just popped one of those cores and killed him? Why stall? And why be so willing to talk to me a moment before your awaited moment of vengeance?”

“I must do it,” Gai Jin muttered. “He killed my sister. I must do it. If I can’t do this…if I can’t avenge them then what good am I as a brother? What good am I as a man?”

“It’s hard to love,” the man muttered. “But it’s also hard to hate, isn’t it? It’s fine to not hate him, kid. Killing him won’t change a thing.”

Gai Jin breathed. He looked down at the man who had wronged him, the man who had condemned him to hell. 

And he called for it. He wanted that rage and hatred. That anger of gods that could burn down continents. He searched for it, but he could not find it, not anymore. 

At that moment, the man he knew now and the man who had raised him became one. 

He looked down and saw only a pitiful man. A pile of burning shame and failure. Hubris so large that it had eaten him whole. Gai Jin knew, that even in death, his master searched for that pride. A tombstone made of gold and diamonds. 

Pity. 

It wasn’t born out of love or compassion. It wasn’t born out of mercy or kindness. Gai Jin was just tired. It was true. Gai Jin was not a man of hatred. He killed demons, but he did not kill people. 

By all judgments, Gai Lui should die. 

But Gai Jin couldn’t bear to stain himself with the action. 

Time continued and the man vanished from his side. Gai Lui breathed again and stared up at Gai Jin. 

Gai Jin spoke.

“You are not worth my hate.”