Legend of The Young Master

Chapter 153: Power Summons Power

Before Luding could figure out where the leader of the raiders had disappeared, he felt a presence behind him. When he turned, he saw a powerful, red, demonic being punching him. Although this being was not as strong as Luding, Luding was not prepared to face it without understanding what he was up against.

Luding cast his disappearing specter skill immediately, but he was a moment too late—the punch hit him. Normally, physical attacks should not affect him, but the Qi in the punch, infused with demonic energy, hurt him.

The damage was not severe as he disappeared immediately, but he had to be cautious. It seemed that Yushan Fortress had understood the danger they were in, and they had paid a steep price. This being alone was very dangerous, not to mention the mysterious young man who was the leader of the group.

Luding reappeared at the summit, striving to control his emotions. He was furious; first, they raided his group, and then when he tried to capture the mysterious young leader, he was assaulted by the red warrior. He noticed that the Young Leader was now on his horse, looking at him. Luding realized he couldn't hurt him, nor could he harm the Red Warrior, but he could target the other raiders.

Luding cast his most powerful skill, Gray Flame, which required a large amount of Qi, but he had to show these attackers that they couldn't just charge in whenever they liked.

He summoned the flames, which covered the summit and quickly reached the attackers. In the process, the flame burned many swamplings and Duskreavers too, but he did not care; he had to demonstrate his strength.

The enemy was escaping. His first fire did not catch up to the enemy as he had expected. He summoned fire again; this fire burned some of the enemy's archers, but most were able to escape.

After the enemies had disappeared, Frustrated Luding strode west as fast as he could, with a swarm of dark insects following him, feeding on his power. "We continue," he said to the demonic at his side.

The demonic beside him surveyed the wreckage of tents and the scatter of corpses. "How many did you lose?" he asked, moving with agitation.

"Lose? Only a handful. The samplings are young and unprepared for war," Luding replied, his form shaking like mist in the wind.

"You took a wound yourself," Demonic Jian Feng noted.

Luding stopped. "Is this one of your dominance games? One of them distracted me. He had a little skill, and I was slow to respond. It will not happen again. Their attack had no real effect on me."

Luding turned and shambled east. Around him, Duskreavers, swamplings, and Demonic Talon Archers packed their belongings and prepared to march.

Jian Feng moved alongside, easily keeping pace with the giant specter. "Why?" he asked. "Why target Xiang stronghold and not Yushan fortress?"

Luding stopped. He despised being questioned, especially by a troublemaker demonic like Jian Feng, who saw himself—a mere demonic—as his peer. He longed to say, "Because I will it so."

"Power summons power," Luding said. He need this demon for time being.

Jian Feng's head trembled in agreement. "So?" he asked.

"The Duskreavers and swampling hordes are restless. They have come here—was that at your bidding, demon?" Luding leaned forward. "Well?"

"Violence summons violence," Jian Feng replied. "They killed us demonics first. My cousin was murdered; so were the flying serpents. We are the guardians. We must act."

Luding paused and pointed his staff. They were passing to the south of the great fortress, which was just visible from here, high on its summit to the northeast.

"We will not be able to capture Yushan fortress with the force we have," Luding said. "I might act to destroy it, or I might not. This is not my fight. But we are allies, and I will help you."

"By leading us away from what we wish to attack?" snapped the demonic Jian Feng.

"By unleashing the demonics of the forest against a worthy, attainable goal. We will strike a blow that will rock the kingdom's empire, and that will send a signal throughout the demonics of the empire. Many more will come to us. Is this not so?"

Jian Feng nodded in slow agreement. "If we burn Xiang Stronghold, many will know of it and many will come."

"And then," said Luding, "we will have the force and the time to act against Yushan fortress, while the kingdom worries over the ruins of Xiang Stronghold."

"And you will be many times more powerful than you are now," Jian Feng said suspiciously.

"My growth will help all demonics helping me grow," Luding replied.

Together, they began to walk southwest.

★ ★ ★

Master Yinhua Han was taking exercise. Age and weight had not prevented him from swinging his sword at training dummies—or at the other four warriors who were still willing enough to join him.

Since the young man had ridden through with his beautifully Qi warrior group, the master of Xiang stronghold had been at the training ground three times. His back hurt. His wrists ached. His palms were aflame.

He was an aged Qi initiate warrior. Time had taken a toll on his physique.

Liang Hai, the most skilled and youngest of his warriors, stepped back and lifted his sword in salute. "Well struck, Master Yinhua," he complimented.

Master Yinhua Han felt a surge of pride but kept his expression neutral. At that moment, he regarded all younger men as potential adversaries.

"Master Yinhua Han, a couple of farmers are requesting to meet with you," announced the guard on duty, causing Master Yinhua Han to scowl slightly.

"I will meet them after I am finished here," Master Yinhua Han responded, his voice steady as he fought to regulate his breathing.

"It's urgent that you see them right away, my lord," the guard pressed, an edge of urgency in his voice that made him swallow hard.

This urgency signaled a potential crisis.

Master Yinhua Han approached his latest assistant, the young Din Fing, to retrieve his cloak and shed his inferior armor. This armor, barely worthy of being called Qi armor, would block any Qi energy attempting to pass through it. A sense of embarrassment washed over him as he looked at the armor's faded brown hues—how long had it been since it was last refurbished?

"Clean that armor," he instructed the attendant. The boy winced, which suited Master Yinhua Han's mood well. "Clean it well, and find me an armorer. I want this recovered in new cloth."

"Yes, Master." The boy didn't meet his eye. Lugging his armor around the Lower Town would be no easy task.

Master Yinhua Han walked across the courtyard to the warrior guard room. There, two men—prosperous, dressed in wealthy attire which included silk and beast leathers—waited.

"How can I help you, wealthy fellows today?" he asked. "Pardon my manners; I was just in the training yard and did not have time to ready myself before meeting."

The man in the dark red cloak stepped forward. "Master Yinhua Han? I'm Sh Yu, and this is my cousin, Qian. We have farms on the Yushan fortress paths."

Master Yinhua Han relaxed. This was not a complaint about one of his warriors looting the farmers.

"Go on," he said, cheerfully.

"I killed a swampling, my lord," said the one called Qian. His voice shook as he spoke.

Master Yinhua Han had been to many places. He knew men, and he knew demonics. "Really?" he said, instinctively doubting.

"Yes," said the farmer. He was defensive and looked at his cousin for support. "There were three of them crossing my fields. One attacked me. I have hunting experience, so once I took my bow and arrow, I killed the one chasing me; the remaining two ran. They were young, so I was lucky."

Master Yinhua Han sat down a little too suddenly. Age and training grounds were not a good mix. He felt tired.

Sh Yu sighed. "Just show it to him." He seemed impatient—a farmer who wanted to get back to his farm.

Before he even undid the string securing the sack, Master Yinhua Han knew what he was going to see. But it all seemed to take a long time. The string unwound, the sack was upended, and the thing inside stuck to the coarse fabric.

For as long as it took, he could tell himself that the man was wrong. He'd killed an animal. A boar with an odd head, or some such.

But twenty years before, Master Yinhua Han had stood his ground with thousands of other warriors against a charge of thousands of swamplings. He remembered it too well.

"Heavens, may the sages watch over us," he said.

Its head, now grotesquely smaller, appeared even more horrifying having been cut from its slender body. "Where, precisely?"

Master Yinhua Han demanded, turning. "Liang Hai! Sound the alarm and get me the Town head."