Chapter 126: THE IMPASSE

CHAPTER

126

THE IMPASSE

JIEYUAN

—∞—

That, Jieyuan decided, did not go as planned.

The saber gone, Meiyao and the mimic resumed fighting, business as usual. Like what happened with the saber just now was just a brief, unimportant interlude.

The only real difference was that Meiyao’s attacks seemed the slightest bit more frantic—but the mimic had been improving all this while, and Meiyao’s redoubled efforts weren’t having any more of an effect.

Maeva, visible only to him, returned to his side.

“What now?” she asked. Her hands were already moving, grabbing two more throwing blades.

What now? That was the question, wasn’t it? Jieyuan frowned, thinking. Things didn’t seem to have changed any—not for the better or for the worse—but that wasn’t true, not exactly. Meiyao might not have gotten the saber, but he’d learned one thing from his failed attempt to get it to her.

The mimic had ignored everything else when he threw the saber. Its main priority had been to ensure Meiyao wouldn’t get her hands on the weapon. It hadn’t even tried to use the saber on Meiyao, just immediately thrown it out of the pocket, out of reach.

Why?

Obviously, because it considered the saber a threat.

But in what sense?

It could be because it knew how much better Meiyao would’ve been if she had it. It had Meiyao’s memories, so it’d know she wasn’t fighting to her full ability right now, unarmed. That she might as well be handicapped, without a weapon. It might be afraid the saber would give Meiyao enough of an edge to break the impasse.

Or…

Jieyuan watched as Meiyao delivered yet another punch that went summarily ignored.

It could be that the problem was Meiyao literally getting an edge. As in, a means to cut it. The mimic seemed to be just about impervious to Meiyao’s punches and kicks—to her blunt attacks. Maybe blades would pose an actual danger to it.

It could be both, too. The edge the saber would give Meiyao—figuratively and literally. Jieyuan felt that idea had a ring of truth to it.

So, then—what now? Jieyuan glanced at Maeva, still waiting for further instructions. He drew two scale blades. If he was right, and at least part of the problem lay with blades, then he could try to get one to Meiyao again.

It wouldn’t be a saber—he was fresh out of those. But he had plenty of Orangesoul daggers to go around.

The mimic would try to stop it, though. Which wasn’t necessarily a good thing. He’d know how it’d react, and he could plan around that, use it to his advantage.

But he still didn’t know for a fact that he was right. And he wasn’t sure how much time they’d have left for him to try new things.

How much time they had left before the mimic grew good enough to overpower Meiyao.

He needed something better, then. A faster solution—and a definitive one.

And while he wouldn’t be of much help to Meiyao right now, there was someone else in the clearing. Someone who could help. As much as it still hurt him to admit.

Daojue.

Skill-wise, Jieyuan might as well have gone from copper to gold these last few months. But Daojue had improved just as much, and his starting point had been much higher. Jieyuan was pretty sure Daojue would be able to keep up with Meiyao and the mimic, even if only barely.

Moreover, Gleaming End was as good a blade as any. In fact, it was the best blade they had.

Jieyuan didn’t like it. Didn’t like that after everything he’d been through, he was still not good enough to make a difference where it mattered. That he wasn’t good enough to fight by Meiyao’s side as an equal. That he still needed Daojue to come in and save the day.

But… no. His feelings didn’t matter, not when there was so much on the line. He could swallow his pride. And just because he wasn’t good enough yet didn’t mean he’d stop putting in the effort.

Of course, all of that was assuming that Daojue could help them. And that didn’t seem to be the case, not when Jieyuan could still hear the sounds of Daojue’s clashes with the tiger in the background. Something that, now that Jieyuan focused on it, didn’t make sense.

The tiger was just at tenth-sign Redsoul. He and Daojue ate beasts like that for breakfast.

Jieyuan glanced over at the other side of the clearing.

Daojue and the tiger were still fighting. Daojue was flitting from close range to middle range, stabbing and cutting, while the huge cat kept lunging at him, biting and swiping.

The tiger had taken some damage. One of its eyes was closed shut, an angry red line cutting across its broad, flat face. Many other bleeding cuts—small and large—littered its body, darkening its fur.

But Daojue wasn’t that much better off.

Jieyuan eyed the deep, bloody gash on Daojue’s chest, reaching down to his ribs. Jieyuan couldn’t tell how bad it was, not with all the blood over it, but it didn’t look pretty.

And it didn’t make sense. The last time Daojue had been wounded like that was when they fought a pair of Orangesoul beasts.

There was always a risk of a bad match-up when fighting an unknown beast—even a Redsoul one. Always a risk that it’d have a particularly tricky or nasty power. But it’d been weeks since he and Daojue had last come across a Redsoul beast that could put up a good fight against one of them by itself.

Barely a few seconds later, Jieyuan realized just what the problem was.

Daojue’s speed.

He and Daojue had just come out of a brutal fight with that pack of borderline immortal wolves. Also, much like him, Daojue hadn’t had any proper rest in a long while. It wouldn’t be surprising if Daojue were a little slower than usual.

But Daojue wasn’t just a little slower. He was moving barely half as fast as his usual speed. Even the wound he’d taken wouldn’t explain that. This was Daojue. The tiger could’ve cut him down to the bone, and Daojue would’ve still shrugged it off, no problem.

This had to be some sort of beast-skill at play. A weakening or slowing effect.

Whatever it was, it was a problem that needed dealing with—so that they could address the bigger problem that was the mimic.

Jieyuan focused, thinking through his options. He didn’t want to leave his position in case the situation between Meiyao and the mimic abruptly changed. But he could have Maeva help.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d sent her out to help Daojue in a fight. Daojue had never asked how it was that Jieyuan did it; he always just took it in perfect stride as the flying blades with a will of their own—at least in Daojue’s perspective—coordinated with his attacks.

And it’d work, no doubt about it. Between Maeva and Daojue, the two of them could definitely handle the tiger. But there was no telling how long it’d take, or if the tiger had some other beast-skill that might complicate things further. And Jieyuan needed to wrap things up fast. Even if it meant his chroma reserves taking a hit.

Maeva knew what he had in mind even without him telling her. She moved behind him, sheathing the blades she was holding, before moving the chroma she’d wrapped around her hands back into his soul.

See you soon, he thought at her. Then he cut off the Command powering her. He didn’t let go of the realmskill itself, though.

Keeping Absolute Will Command in the forefront of his mind, he focused on the tiger.

A connection snapped into place between him and the beast.

He barely had to wait before the right moment came.

The tiger lunged at Daojue.

Daojue charged at it.

And as they were about to reach each other, Jieyuan Commanded, “Freeze.”

The surge of resistance Jieyuan felt in response almost broke the Command the moment it took hold. Jieyuan felt his body lock up as all of his focus went into sustaining the Command, into breaking the resistance. Chroma started to rapidly vanish from his soul.

And though the tiger didn’t freeze up on the spot, it faltered, stumbling forward.

Daojue didn’t waste the opportunity, driving Gleaming End straight at the tiger’s head. The tiger tried to jerk its body to the side, but the Command left it barely capable of moving.

Gleaming End sank into the tiger’s forehead. The spearhead disappeared fully into the tiger’s head, smoothly, effortlessly.

The beast died on the spot. The Command bond snapped, and Jieyuan’s control over his body returned. Jieyuan took a shuddering breath. Just those few moments holding the Command had tired him out more than his fight with the wolves earlier.

Beasts were a pain to Command, even more so one at a higher soulsign. A more subtle command might’ve cost less or been easier on him, but time was of the essence right now. It’d worked, and that was what mattered.

Business as usual, Daojue pulled Gleaming End out of the tiger’s body just as smoothly as it’d driven it in. And then he turned around, leaving the beast to crumble behind him.

Dark violet eyes met Jieyuan’s from across the pocket, just for a moment. Then Daojue shifted his focus to Meiyao and the mimic.

Daojue didn’t disappoint. He stared at the fight for maybe three seconds—taking it in, assessing the situation—before he acted.

Surging forward, it took Daojue barely an instant to cross the clearing over to where Meiyao and the mimic were fighting.

And then he was there, throwing himself into the fray.

Daojue’s very first attack caught the mimic on the side, cutting past its vague green not-robes and into its side. The mimic rounded on Daojue, and Meiyao took the opening—but instead of punching, she made a grab for its neck.

The mimic jerked back, managing to avoid Meiyao’s hand, but Daojue followed up with another attack, and landed another deep cut, this time across one of its legs.

And then, for the first time since the start of the fight, the mimic beast retreated, jumping back. But Meiyao and Daojue were hot on its heels, pressing the advantage. Daojue charged at it from the front, while Meiyao circled it to attack from behind, cutting off its escape.

It took barely moments before Daojue managed to get another hit in. And then another. And another.

Just like Jieyuan had thought, Daojue was fast enough to hold his own against the mimic. Not as fast as Meiyao or the beast, but fast enough.

Their movements set the viridian mist around them turning and twisting, like a storm was brewing in the middle of the pocket. The glowing forms of Meiyao and the mimic, shining much brighter than the mist—and Daojue, cast in their glow, weaving in and out as he attacked.

It was like a dance. Meiyao and Daojue fighting in sync, coordinating the way only consummate martial artists could. And then there was the mimic, still wearing Meiyao’s form, stuck between them, fighting for its life with everything it had. The little furry shape was still there too, dashing in and out, moving back and forth between Meiyao and the mimic.

Jieyuan steadied himself, having already recovered some from his use of that Command earlier. He felt that itch again, that burn, stronger than ever. The need to just get in there, in the thick of it, to fight alongside Meiyao and Daojue.

But he’d just be getting in the way. There was nothing for him to do, besides suck his thumbs while watching from the sidelines. He still drew two more blades, hoping some opportunity would come up, because he couldn’t just do nothing.

But he wasn’t counting on it. Meiyao and Daojue seemed to have it in hand now.

The cuts started piling up. The mimic was entirely on the defensive, taking hit after hit. Slashes and stabs. Daojue was merciless, and Meiyao took a more supportive role, making opportunities for Daojue to attack.

And it was working.

About a minute passed.

Daojue kept landing more and more attacks.

But even though the mimic was still reduced to just defending and dodging—and not very successfully at that—it wasn’t going down.

“Heavens take it,” Jieyuan murmured, his eyes widening as the realization hit.

Daojue’s attacks with Gleaming End weren’t having much more of an effect than Meiyao’s blunt ones.

It didn’t matter whether they were cuts or stabs. The mimic bled, but it wasn’t slowed in any way by the damage it took, and the blood flow always vanished within moments. Jieyuan wasn’t sure what it was, if its regeneration rate was just too fast, or if it was just shifting the damage away somehow.

However it was pulling it off, the mimic was holding its own, even against Meiyao and Daojue together.

Already its movements were much tighter, more controlled. And it’d been almost a minute since the last time it’d tried one of its feral lunges or swipes.

It’s the same rotting deadlock situation all over again. Jieyuan pushed himself, racking his brain for a solution. He’d thought that bringing Daojue in would be enough, but he’d just been proven wrong.

Despite himself, Jieyuan felt some excitement bubble up inside him. The situation was bad and had just gotten worse, yes. But that also meant he still had a part to play in it. That he could still stand to make a difference. In fact, it was up to him to make a difference.

He considered his earlier idea of trying to get a dagger to Meiyao. With Daojue there to keep the mimic busy, it’d be much easier to pull it off. But before Jieyuan went through with it—or thought up some other plan—he realized something else.

The mimic was still paying much more attention to Daojue’s attacks than Meiyao’s.

It took all of Meiyao’s kicks and punches without issue, but it always made an effort to dodge Daojue’s attacks with Gleaming End—even though they seemed no more effective than Meiyao’s when they landed.

The mimic beast was wary of Gleaming End, just like it’d been of the Orangesoul saber earlier. That was clear as day. But at the same time, it seemed to be immune to both cuts and stabs.

Something wasn’t adding up.

Jieyuan barely had to think on it before the answer came to him.