Chapter 125: PLAN AND FAIL

CHAPTER

125

PLAN AND FAIL

JIEYUAN

—∞—

Jieyuan knew that voice. How could he not, when he’d spent the last two months hoping to hear it again?

Someone—or, more likely, something—had been using it up until a few moments ago, but not the right way. That same voice had come out stilted, awkward, wrong.

But this time? This time it flowed. Smoothly. Fluent.

The Meiyao in front of him abruptly cut off her attack, jumping to the side and spinning to face the opposite edge of the pocket.

Where another Meiyao was standing, surrounded by a bright, almost-blinding green glow, just like the Meiyao closer to him.

Jieyuan felt his heart seize. He squinted at this new Meiyao, trying to see through the radiance around her.

And he saw it. Robes and armor. Actual robes and armor, instead of the blurry, vague color-shapes wrapped around the first Meiyao. And though the new Meiyao wasn’t holding a weapon, she had a sheath by her waist.

She also had something furry on her shoulders, but he couldn’t tell what it was. It didn’t matter, though.

What mattered was that she was dressed like the Meiyao he remembered. And spoke like her too.

He knew then that this was her. Knew it like the weight of gold. Even so, he sent his soulsense out in her direction. He couldn’t leave any room for doubt.

He found a sixth-shade red outline around her. Not a solid one, but vaguer. Aura. And at the center of it, the spherical form of a soul. And as for its song… Meiyao’s. A perfect match.

He drew a sharp breath.

No two ways about it. It was Meiyao he was looking at now, beyond a shadow of a doubt.

The real one.

“You’re here,” Jieyuan said, the words just slipping out of his mouth.

He gathered himself the very next moment, and though he didn’t look away from Meiyao, he made sure to keep the impostor off to the left in his sight.

The fake Meiyao—who had to be some Orangesoul beast, a shape-shifting one, a mimic-type—was unmoving. She just stood there, glaring at the real Meiyao.

Further off to the side, just at the edge of his vision, he could see that Daojue and the tiger were still busy with each other.

“Jieyuan,” Meiyao said.

Her voice was soft, but it carried clearly across the clearing, through the noises—growls, rapid steps, dull thumps—of Daojue’s fight with the tiger. All she said was a word, his name, but the amount of emotion she’d packed into it was almost tangible.

Jieyuan could see her wide eyes through the bright green glow cloaking her, and how they were fixed on him, staring right back.

But then she shook her head.

“No,” she said, and he wasn’t sure whether that was meant for him or herself. Both, maybe. “Not the time.”

She turned away from him, rounding on the fake Meiyao, who was now hunched over, tensed like a cornered animal. Fittingly, the look Meiyao gave the impostor—eyes narrowed, teeth bared in a vicious smile—was very much that of a predator. “We have a little rotter to kill first.”

Jieyuan still wasn’t sure what was going on. But he’d already put some of the pieces together. Meiyao and the mimic beast had met before. Not just that, it looked like Meiyao had been pursuing it.

Meiyao. A sixth-sign redsoul, hunting down an Orangesoul beast.

Jieyuan hadn’t thought he could want Meiyao even more than he already did.

He’d just been proven wrong.

He grinned. He couldn’t help it. Laughter bubbled up from his chest and he let it out, loud and clear. He felt as high as the Heavens right now. Energy surged through him, burning away his aches and exhaustion.

There were a thousand words he wanted to say. But for now, he made do with just three. “You got it.”

Not-Meiyao growled.

Her—or rather, its—growl was cut short as Meiyao blurred into motion.

There was a flash of green—and then Meiyao was bearing down on the fake.

The mimic beast didn’t budge from its spot.

Jieyuan had barely taken a step forward when Meiyao reached the pretender.

The mimic beast swept its arm forward, hands like claws—only for Meiyao to sidestep the attack with contemptuous ease, and slam her fist into its stomach.

The fake Meiyao doubled over. But then, at pretty much the moment of impact, it lunged forward—Meiyao’s fist still connected with its stomach—and swiped at Meiyao again.

Meiyao broke away, avoiding the attack, and then immediately reengaged.

Only a heartbeat had passed since Meiyao’s initial charge. The two moved so fast Jieyuan had only barely managed to keep track.

I can’t join in, Jieyuan realized, feeling a sudden chill. Meiyao and the mimic—they were too fast. The mimic was even faster now, while Meiyao… Somehow, she was just as fast.

If he got in there, if he tried to fight by Meiyao’s side, he’d just be getting in her way.

It’d been a while now since he’d last had Maeva take over. He’d been doing his best to avoid relying on her like that, to make it through on his own merit, even if she was technically part of him. But needs must. He swallowed his pride.

Maeva, do you think—

“They’re too fast,” Maeva cut in. She’d retreated together with him when Meiyao had engaged the mimic, and was observing the fights beside him. “I could risk it, but… I might do more harm than good. Even if I went in on my own, it likely wouldn’t have much effect.”

His first two ideas, shot down on the spot. Jieyuan scowled.

But that was all right. He still had other cards to play. He might’ve even been tempted to use Fatebloom Sacrifice, but he’d been forced to it just a few days ago, and it’d be a good while before he got another drop of Heartblood.

Jieyuan made to sheath his saber—he wouldn’t be any good at close-range, anyway, so might as well free up both hands for throwing—when he suddenly stopped, considering the weapon he was holding.

It was an Orangesoul blade. Meiyao was a saber user. She was probably only taking the mimic on in unarmed combat because she only had Redsoul weapons on her. Jieyuan focused back on the fight, considering his options.

But… Jieyuan glanced back up at the fight. Meiyao and the mimic were still at it, and it didn’t seem like Meiyao had been hit yet, while the mimic had already taken quite a few blows. It didn’t look like Meiyao needed the saber. And there’d be risks to throwing it.

It might distract Meiyao—and in a fight paced this fast, even the slightest lapse could be deadly.

Jieyuan didn’t sheath the saber. But he didn’t throw it, either. Instead he kept it in his right hand, and with his left hand drew a throwing dagger. He kept a close eye on the fight, trying to get a good feel for its rhythm, so he could time his throw properly—be it the saber to Meiyao, or the blade at the mimic.

As Jieyuan took in the fight, he realized that there was a third component to it. The furry thing he’d seen on Meiyao’s shoulders earlier wasn’t there anymore. It was now on the ground—and moving. Moving even faster than Meiyao and the mimic, so fast he hadn’t noticed it before. A barely visible streak of white and green, zipping around.

But more importantly, coming at the mimic again and again. Attacking it.

Another beast? Jieyuan couldn’t think of anything else it could be, unless Meiyao had managed to unlock some other power.

The thing didn’t register to his soulsense, so it wasn’t Redsoul. It was moving extremely fast, but not to the point he shouldn’t be able to pick up on it. It obviously wasn’t some mundane creature, and since it hadn’t just obliterated the mimic beast already, it couldn’t be Yellowsoul or higher. So it had to be some Orangesoul beast. A tiny one. And one that was on their side, somehow.

Did Meiyao tame it? It shouldn’t have been possible, but this was Meiyao.

Orangesoul beast or not, though, the furry little thing didn’t seem to be making much of a difference. Its attacks barely seemed to inconvenience the mimic beast.

That would’ve been fine, if Meiyao were winning anyway.

But, as Jieyuan was starting to realize, that wasn’t quite the case.

He watched with narrowed eyes, his hand itching to make the throw. But though he saw some openings here and there, they came and went too quickly. Right now, he was pretty much stuck analyzing the fights.

And the conclusions he was coming to weren’t all that promising.

As far as he could tell, the mimic had the edge in strength and speed. Not a huge one, though, and Meiyao was clearly more skilled than it was, which should’ve more than made up for it.

But it didn’t.

The mimic seemed to have little concern for its own body. Either that, or it was much tougher than Meiyao.

The result? The mimic had yet to land a single hit on Meiyao. Meiyao, on the other hand, had landed several.

But that didn’t matter, when none of them had had any effect.

Jieyuan watched as Meiyao lashed out with her leg like a whip, slamming into the fake one’s side. If Meiyao was as strong as she was fast right now, the blow should’ve been strong enough to crush even a tenth-sign redsoul’s ribs.

The mimic took the blow, didn’t so much as budge from the spot—didn’t show the slightest sign it’d been hit. Rather, it tried to make a grab at the leg that had kicked it. Meiyao only barely managed to pull back in time.

Meiyao’s next move, as the mimic overreached, was to punch it in the face. The blow struck home, and the mimic’s head snapped back, blood spurting from what Jieyuan was sure was a broken—if not crushed—nose.

Meiyao stepped in closer to connect another punch, but then the mimic snapped its head right back, avoided Meiyao’s next attack, and lunged at her again. It didn’t seem to be bleeding anymore, and it was moving too fast for Jieyuan to get a look at its face—the green aura didn’t help any, either—so Jieyuan couldn’t tell how much damage was done.

What he could tell was that it didn’t seem affected in the slightest.

Worse, Jieyuan was pretty sure they had an even bigger problem than the mimic’s durability on their hands.

Just like when he’d been facing it, the mimic was gradually improving.

It’d already been hard to tell back then, and now that it had ramped up its speed, it was even harder. But he could still tell. The mimic was getting better, more skilled, as the fight went on.

The last pieces of the puzzle came together in his head.

Earlier, the mimic, posing as Meiyao, had seemed to know him. Him and Daojue. Or at least it had had an idea of who they were and their relation to Meiyao, even if a grossly oversimplified one. It had even spoken a few times. And its fighting style was like Meiyao’s, just a great deal rougher and wilder.

It wasn’t just Meiyao’s appearance and bloodskills it’d copied.

It’d copied Meiyao’s body. All of it. Including her brain.

If Jieyuan had been apprehensive before, now he was well and fully alarmed. And the more he thought on it, the bigger and deeper the pit in his stomach became.

If he was right, then the mimic wasn’t actually improving. It was just acclimating itself to a human’s brain. To Meiyao’s brain. Meiyao was probably the first human the mimic beast ever met, the first human it’d ever taken the form of, and it seemed like it was still familiarizing itself with the transformation.

But familiarity was a product of time. And that was what this ongoing stalemate was buying it. Time.

Golden. Just golden.

They couldn’t let this go on. The mimic was clearly still in the process of adaptation, still getting the hang of Meiyao’s brain, of a human’s intellect—but it could already hold its own against Meiyao because of its durability.

Assuming he was right about the situation, and the mimic managed to draw out the fight long enough to fully adapt to Meiyao’s brain?

Jieyuan glanced down at his right hand, at the Orangesoul saber he was holding. Before, he’d thought Meiyao wouldn’t need it. But now he had a better grasp on the situation. Getting it to Meiyao would be risky. Risky and tricky. But it’d be even riskier to let things run their course.

Meiyao fought far better with a saber than without, and though the mimic seemed borderline immune to blunt damage, chances were it wouldn’t fare as well against cuts.

Maeva, get in position.

Maeva broke away from him, rushing over to where Meiyao and the mimic were fighting. She stopped a few feet away from the mimic’s back. Meiyao and the mimic weren’t staying put as they fought, but they weren’t moving all that much either. Maeva moved along with them, keeping out of the fight but close enough to act when he’d need her to.

If Meiyao or the mimic noticed the two disembodied chroma gauntlets holding Orangesoul blades hovering nearby, neither gave any indication of it.

Jieyuan didn’t bother waiting for the right moment. That was what he’d been doing so far, and it hadn’t gotten him anywhere.

“Meiyao, catch!”

Both Meiyao and the mimic looked over. Meiyao had just avoided one of the mimic beast’s lunges and had been in the midst of striking back at it.

Jieyuan hurled the saber toward Meiyao like a javelin. At the same time, he threw a blade at the mimic with his other hand.

There was a flurry of movement. Meiyao broke off, kicking off the ground, making to catch the saber. Maeva let loose both of her blades at the mimic.

Jieyuan had thought the mimic would take the opportunity to attack Meiyao. That was why he’d also thrown a blade at it, and what Maeva was there for—to distract it.

That wasn’t what happened. The mimic didn’t attack.

Instead, just like Meiyao, it lunged for the saber.

The mimic barely had to twist its body as it dodged all three projectiles. And then it reached the saber—just before Meiyao did, snatching it out of the air.

Meiyao slammed into the fake, tried to grab the saber and wrench it out of its hands.

And she might’ve succeeded—if the mimic had tried to strike her back.

But it didn’t. Again, it defied expectations.

It ignored Meiyao entirely—her punch to its face included—and twisted around, throwing its arms forward.

Launching the saber away, out of the pocket and into the denser mists beyond.