Shi regarded her sister from across the arena floor as she felt the ki of a sect initiate settle beside her. Glancing over at her champion, the inquisitor saw the young woman's eyes flashing with irritation, her hands resting contemptuously on her weapons, two short swords that hung at her waist.

It was clear that she saw her presence on this stage as an insult. For in many ways, it was. After all, what face might be gained by the slaying of a mortal? Worse still, the defeat of this particular mortal was not without risk. For though Huang was now little more than an eyesore in the eyes of the Imperial Clan, she was still part of that lineage.

And none within the Empire could be allowed to spill Imperial blood without censure.

The girl no doubt feared she’d be spending the rest of her days constantly looking over her shoulder for Imperial assassins.

A not unfounded fear, though hardly specific just to her. Shi had little intention of letting anyone beyond her inquisitors who had seen her half-sister’s shame live long enough to spread news of it. Whether they were her killer or simply a spectator to it, it mattered not.

“Your name?” she asked.

“Zhen Hi, Great One,” the woman bowed deeply. “This lowly one is honored to have been chosen for this task – though she regrets its necessity. She will take no pride in her actions to come. She well understands how easy it can be to be… lead astray.”

Of course she would. All of the cultivators Shi had brought with her had been traitors once.

Shi hummed quietly, affecting a calm smile. “As do I. Which is why you have been given this chance at recompense. However, you are not the woman who will soon stand across you as your own opponent. Your crimes are far different in scope. To that end, do not overly concern yourself with… your foe’s former standing. Whatever she once was, she is a traitor now. Merely a nameless foe of the Empire.”

Zhen bowed deeper, relief flooding from her. “This one understands.”

The Dragon-kin nodded. “Good. I have briefed you on the weapons our enemy has at their disposal, yet know that they may have more. To that end, close the distance quickly. Strike decisively and without fanfare. Doing so will nullify what few advantages she possesses.”

Protest flashed in the young woman’s eyes at the idea that a ‘mortal’ would have any advantages over her at all. “I- Yes, Great One. This lowly one recalls your lessons on these firework launchers and is confident of her ability to counter them. She shall make a mockery of her foe’s tools before finally giving her the killing blow.”

“Don’t.” Shi’s tongue clicked as she sought to reinforce her point. “Twice I have clashed with our foe and his machinations. Each time I have triumphed, but not before losing ten of my most prized inquisitors. Peak experts brought low not by his hands, but by tools crafted by them in the hands of his lessers.”

Truth be told, she still didn’t know how the first eight were slain. It could well have been the man himself who performed the deed, though she doubted it. As powerful as divinities were, not even Murn herself would have been able to kill eight peak experts simultaneously. Not when they were spread miles apart in different fortress towns. If they were close together, it would be a different story, but the distances involved made Shi suspect that Johansen had made use of some sort of mystic tool or spirit beast.

If it was, it was some manner of tool she had not seen before. Which was not too surprising. She was sure her foe still had many such weapons held in reserve.

Like the flying spirit beasts that circle overhead, she thought. Twelve times have we struck ones of its ilk down, yet they are constantly replaced.

Then there was the armored monstrosity that Shui rode to their last meeting upon – a brother to the ‘art piece’ she had once mocked on her first visit to the nearby town. A nearby town that had great mirrors that lit up the night sky so that repeating firework launchers could unleash their deadly payload upon any airborne attacker.

…With that in mind, Shi would be surprised if Huang didn’t have access to some kind of more powerful cultivator-killing mystic tool. It would lend some more weight to the man’s confidence that he would win this duel despite his champion being little more than a mortal woman.

“Kill her. Do it quickly and efficiently. Move erratically on your approach. Use your blades as a shield. Once you are in range, skewer her. Do these things and you shall be rewarded.” The dragon-kin could see it, the urge for the woman across from her to scoff. Fortunately for her – and Shi for she had little desire to call up a second initiate and repeat her instructions while standing over the cooling corpse of the first – she withheld that desire. “And be ready for some manner of… trick. Our foe is many things, but he is no fool. If he bet my sister against me, it was because he expected her to be able to triumph. Keep that in mind.”

The other woman’s expression hardened slightly at that, as she recalled that while her foe was a mortal, she had the backing of a divinity.

When she finally nodded, it was with a seriousness that she had not possessed before.

Shi smiled, satisfied that she had been heard. Turning on the spot, the Inquisitor climbed the stairs of ‘her side’ of the arena to once more take her seat upon her throne.

And say what one would about the soft gold acting as a subtle insult, it did provide an excellent view of the arena below. The aesthetic of the crisscrossing marble and jade checkerboard made for an excellent contrast. Once this Johansen was securely within the Imperial fold, she would make sure to ‘request’ a variant of this arena be created within the confines of the Inquisitorium.

Something the prideful being would undoubtedly balk at, and thus would serve as an excellent lesson in the need for obedience on his part - once the twelve-fold seal was applied.

Down below, she watched as her champion spoke to her opponent for the first time, using ki to project her voice across the arena, given the distances involved. A trick on her foe’s part, she now realized. She had thought at the time that the massive size of the arena was merely an expression of power on the divinity’s part.

And it was.

But now she realised that the increased distance between the two sides also gave his champion more time to fire upon her own before they clashed.

She squashed the irritation that threatened to build within her at being outfoxed in such a manner.

“My name is Zhen Hi, Initiate of the Shrouded Tail Sect, Servant of the Celestial Throne.” The cultivator pointedly did not bow.

The dragon-kin opposite her did though, if perfunctorily, her hands resting on two objects on her belt. “Huang. Mortal member of the Ten Huo Engineering Society. Servant of no one.”

Mutters rippled through the Imperial section of the stands as Shi’s people sought to make sense of the former Magistrate’s words. Shi for her part was also interested, if only because this ‘Engineering Society’ seemed to suggest that this Jack Johansen was a proponent of natural philosophy.

That outmoded method of cultivation had certainly not had a presence in the North prior to Jack Johansen’s arrival. The reports Shi had read on the trip up here would have mentioned it if they were. Instead, according to the latest census on the area, the local sects were a much more normal mixture of Kinnest and Systemism.

And while Kinnism had certainly been born of the observations of Natural Philosophy, it had also quite systematically replaced it over the last thousand years.

Then again, what is a thousand years to an immortal? Shi thought.

Still, that would certainly go some way to explaining Johansen’s focus on tool use over more conventional techniques.

Though it begs the question… will his power in battle be weaker as a result?

That had ultimately been the downfall of Natural Philosophy. Its focus on the gradual increase in collectivist knowledge was inefficient when compared to the strides that might be made through personal introspection provided by Kinnism and Systemism.

Few to none of the great legends of yesteryear were Natural Philosophers. And thus it was commonly accepted that the methodology had died out.

Perhaps not all the practitioners though, Shi mused. And given the heights he has risen to… it may be worth broaching the issue of revisiting it.

Though that would have to wait, as an… unnaturally flat feminine voice seemed to issue from all about the arena.

“Combat shall begin in three. Participants make ready.”

Zhen’s blades left their sheathes as the strange voice counted down, twirling them casually as she settled into a squat. Across from her, Huang’s hands hung loosely at her sides, eyes sharp as she regarded her opponent.

“One.”

As soon as the last syllable was uttered, Zhen shot forward, robes rippling behind her as she flitted from side to side erratically on her approach.

Yet Huang did not move. Her posture was tense, but steady, eyes tracking her incoming opponent as they shot toward her.

Picking up her speed, Zhen’s graceful movements nonetheless caused cracks to form beneath her with every step, the mundane stone incapable of enduring a cultivator moving at full pelt. In little more than two seconds, she would be in range to strike.

Yet Huang remained still.

And for just a moment, Shi had hope. Hope that her sister was not entirely gone. That she had simply bided her time.

That she now intended to show her true colors by sacrificing her life to ensure the Empire gained victory.

Shi’s heart soared as Zhen closed the remaining distance with a final leap, her weapons outstretched like the horns of an oncoming bull. Shi smiled, imagining serenity in her half-sibling’s heart in this moment of selflessness.

And it was in that moment of triumph that Huang moved.

Her hands darted not towards her weapons, but another object at the small of her back – and suddenly all Shi felt was pain.

A screeching sound, of a like she’d never heard before lanced into her brain like a bolt of lightning, forcing her to wince and reflexively hunch in on herself. Nor was she alone in doing so, as the rest of the Imperial side of the arena flinched in pain at the sudden ear-splitting noise.

As two cracks rang out, barely audible over the ear-wrenching noise, Shi had to wonder if this was an attack!? Did this divinity mean to attack them now? Using the duel as a distraction?

Yet as she levered her head up, she saw through squinted eyes that the other side of the arena had not moved. Johansen sat just as he always had, and while the visages of the men and women around him appeared… curious, they had not shifted from their seats either.

No, this was no attack.

At least, not one that had been aimed at the duel’s observers – they’d merely been collateral for the technique.

Indeed, as Shi and the rest of the Imperial side steeled themselves – drawing on their ki to harden their senses – they turned to regard the arena down below.

Only one figure still stood. What Shi now knew to be two small firework launchers at her side, the woman almost looked surprised as she regarded the kneeling figure before her. An expression mirrored by Zhen, as her hands slowly moved from her ears to press against her gut. From which a red stain continued to grow, dripping down her robes to form a slowly growing pool of blood around her knees.

Silence suffused the area as Zhen’s labored breaths became audible now that the screeching was gone. The crowd was almost holding its breath, as if questioning their own eyes as they stared at the scene before them.

Then Huang seemed to recover, keeping both weapons – which to Shi’s understanding should be empty – aimed at her foe, she casually kicked the woman’s discarded blades away from her.

“How?” The cultivator asked. “You’re a mortal. How did you-”

A shot rang out and Zhen slumped lifelessly to the side.

Silence reigned through the arena as the final echoes of the shot rang out. None could believe what they had just seen. A mortal against a cultivator should have been a foregone conclusion. Yet the impossible had occurred.

And it hadn’t been a fight.

It had been an execution.

Then, as if to break the stillness, Huang stepped around the corpse of her foe to face the Imperial side in full.

She bowed.

Low, deep and mocking.

And Shi’s blood boiled with rage.

-------------

Shui couldn’t hold back her amusement as she watched Huang all-but swagger back to their side of the arena.

An amusing thought to be sure - that she was so happy to see her once-rival victorious. But then again, the past year had been nothing if not surprising. So much so that the thought of a mortal defeating a cultivator – admittedly a mere initiate – did not seem as shocking as it once might.

“What the hell was that technique?” she leaned over to whisper to Johansen.

He turned to her, saying something, but the pig-kin heard none of it. Realization coming upon her, the woman reached up to pluck out the small plugs she had been provided before the bout and instructed to insert into her ears.

A consideration she had noted that she alone had been afforded. None of the mortals had been provided the same objects – nor had they flinched like the Imperials had when that low ringing had pierced through the protections those plugs had provided.

Which meant that whatever technique Huang had employed, it only affected cultivators.

Or it should, she thought, gaze flitting to where Lady An sat on the far side of her lord. The tiger-kin had not made use of any plugs, yet had not flinched unduly when Huang’s technique was employed either.

“An omni-directional sonic emitter,” Jack responded, a certain amount of gloating satisfaction pervading his tone. “Basically a big dog whistle. Boosted by the architecture of this arena. Echoes and all that.”

“A what?” Shi frowned.

His featureless helm regarded her. “A little something to turn a cultivator’s advantages against them.”

Shui frowned at that non-answer, even as she rolled the small plugs over in her hands. It was clear the man was playing coy, high on his victory. That was fine, if irritating. A man was allowed his secrets. And though she knew she had risen in her lord's estimation after her debacles in challenging him for leadership, she knew she still wasn’t part of his inner circle.

Either way, she’d gotten some small understanding of what he was saying. While much of it had been gibberish, the words ‘whistle’ and ‘echo’ weren’t. That, combined with the plugs she’d been wearing, told her that whatever tool Huang had used, it had made use of sound as a weapon.

Which was an… interesting idea.

One that was not entirely unheard of. The screamers of the Southern Islands were well known for their intimidating war-cries.

That was all they were though. Intimidating. An attempt to cow the enemy before the initial clash by surprising them.

This hadn’t been like that. Shui had seen what happened to Zhen just before the initial clash. The woman had all-but collapsed even before Huang casually put two bolts into her guts.

The idea was… rather horrifying now that she thought of it.

With that said, she could imagine several counters now that she’d seen it in action. And that was with preparation. If she was in the middle of a fight, she could think of at least one that would work.

Sure, it would be painful, and she’d need a healer right after, but it would work and allow her to continue fighting. And if she could think of a solution like that, Shui had no doubt the High Inquisitor could too.

As the pig-kin watched Huang all-but dance up the stairs to Johansen’s seat, she knew that whatever weapon she had would only work once.

The enemy would be prepared for it next time.

Still, as Johansen stood up to pat Huang bodily on the back, turning the conquering warrior into something akin to a blushing initiate, Shui knew that was a problem for tomorrow.

For today, they’d won.

Though as she gazed across at the furious expression of the High Inquisitor, she could only conclude that tomorrow’s victory would not be nearly so easy.

“Not by a long shot,” she murmured as two initiates from the Imperial side clambered down to reluctantly collect the body - as if afraid they might lose face merely by being in physical contact with a woman who had been defeated by a mortal.

Fortunately for whoever was slated to fight next, Johansen had no intention of placing another mortal on the field. The Imperials wouldn’t go for another lowball attempt.

Which was why Johansen intended to deploy his best next.

And though it stung - more than the wounds beneath her bandages - Shui knew that wasn’t her. Not after her injuries.

And maybe not even then.

Not because she lacked sheer power in cultivation. But because she lacked mastery of Johansen’s tools.

Only one woman could claim that right.

The pig-kin’s gaze flitted over to where Lady An was standing, her gaze not on where her lord was congratulating a bashful Huang… but on the arena. An almost hungry expression pervading her features as she regarded the bloody arena floor.

A veritable unknown. Who had carved her way through the fleeing Instinctive horde that had besieged Ten Huo - but whose actual skill was almost entirely unknown within the city itself.

For though her ki was barely of the low Profound level, Shui knew that meant little where Jack Johansen’s tools were concerned.

And none within the province had more familiarity with those weapons than Lady An herself.

…With that said, the former-general couldn’t help but wonder if those tools would allow the tiger-kin to triumph against a foe who would undoubtedly be many times her superior in cultivation.

Shui didn’t know.

So she could only hope that Jack Johansen did.