Can You Conquer The World With Martial Arts?

In a bamboo grove, Qin Yan practiced with his triangle-headed spear. At his level of martial mastery, it was no easy task to bring himself to exhaustion, but after many hours of uninterrupted work, the One-Eyed King had managed to achieve exactly that. Now, under the pale moonlight, he rested, letting the chilly breeze run across his flesh.

His ears twitched, picking up the sound of a careless footstep rustling up the grass. His fatigue was gone without a trace. He was up to his feet in an instant, already taking up a combat stance.

When he recognized the intruder, his knuckles turned pale, so fervently he began to grip the pole.

Swaying in the wind was that golden hair, that white robe.

This time, she wore no mask.

In other circumstances, Qin Yan would have allowed himself to be smitten by that beauty, just like he has eagerly done many times before with so many other people. But nary a stray thought was going through his head now. Nothing but thoughts of self-preservation persisted in his mind, his instincts for battle keeping his heart beating like the hooves of a galloping horse.

"I've come to collect what's mine." She said.

"...And what would that be?"

"You."

A gust cast aside her great sleeve. Her hand held a sheath of dark red.

Wielded by her extraordinary figure, the weapon appeared almost too small. But in truth its length was entirely ordinary.

"You finally got yourself a real weapon." Qin Yan remarked.

She smiled. "Would you like to see it?"

As she idly thumbed at the guard, Qin Yan's eye widened. He dug his heels even deeper into his stance.

A chuckle slipped past her lips.

"Although... I might not have much use for a warrior with no eyes."

Qin Yan began to grip his weapon even harder. But still his hands kept shaking.

Beneath those evil eyes bloomed an unpleasant little smirk.

With the subtlest of gestures she goaded him on. But Qin Yan couldn't force himself to step forth. He stood there, caked in cold sweat. Not even such a brazen challenge to his pride could spur him on.

As their staredown dragged on and on, Qin Yan began to feel lightheaded. He realized that he would never be able to muster the courage to take that first step.

His knee hit the ground. The king lowered his head.

Her laughter rang out into the night.

...

After Deng Hong's death, the Wuyi Mountain remained in contention for the better part of a year. Numerous factions emerged to try and claim the seat of honor. Yet not one of the self-proclaimed masters could retain it for long. Like the phases of the moon, control over the land waxed and waned; the shifting of the tides gave rise to rampant criminality and opportunism.

As of now, the mountain belonged to an upstart faction calling themselves the Yellow Turban Brotherhood. Though they had retained the peak for merely two months, Mo Xiabo's men held unerring faith in the skills of their leader. During their feasting they boldly hailed him as king.

But one day, in the midst of their merriments, the great doors parted to reveal an uninvited guest. A towering woman, her hair the color of wheat, strolled towards the table in the center of the hall.

"Who let her in?!" The warriors were outraged; they reached for their weapons.

"Wait!" Mo Xiabo raised his hand. The men froze in place. His thick eyebrows scrunched together as he stared at the intruder. "You must be Lady Clear Sky. Is it true? Are you the one who killed Deng Hong?"

She chuckled. "I gave him plenty of chances. But there was just no helping him."

Her admission had the warriors aghast. Mo Xiabo himself looked shaken.

"All of you, pay your respects!" He demanded. After they had all bowed, Mo Xiabo explained, "Many don't know of your achievement, but I am privy to the truth! In fact, it may please you to know that the Invincible Blood Sea is a good friend of mine. We go way back."

"A friend?" Huang Huoyu suddenly broke out into laughter. "Tao Geming?"

"If only I had known that your esteemed self was in the area, I would have invited you to our halls personally, and let you have the seat of honor!"

"Is that so?" She walked past him and sat in his chair. "This seat?"

"You are welcome to it!" Mo Xiabo deferentially back away from her, his back still bent in a bow. "Allow us to treat you with all due honors."

"There's no need. Just sit down." She said. But of course, they were now one seat short. Mo Xiabo gestured the servants for an extra chair, but Huang Huoyu waved them away. "Your knees will do. Right there. Go on."

The hall turned silent. Mo Xiabo was pale. His hands began to slowly inch towards his twin swords.

Huang Huoyu crossed her legs and twirled her toes as she waited.

Mo Xiabo glanced back at his subordinates, offering them a slight nod. Then he did as she bid. His knees hit the floor.

"You'll be heading out." She said.

"Lady Clear Sky, surely we can at least come to an agreement." Mo Xiabo tried to plead. "We have worked so hard to take this mountain! My brothers laid down many of their lives for it! We can be of use! There's no need to cast us out!"

"Throw your lot in with me, and this mountain will be yours forever."

Her proclamation caught them off-guard.

"Then just say the word, mistress!" Mo Xiabo shouted, and then turned to his men. "Pay your respects!"

All those present followed their leader down to the floor, yelling their affirmations.

...

In the Fairy Spring Valley, the martial sisters were rushing to announce a visitor.

Sitting upon her throne, Sun Jia observed her panicked subordinates with mild confusion. She could hardly understand any of what the girls were trying to tell her.

But mere moments later, that woman she had once described as statuesque walked into the hall.

"Clear out, all of you!" Lady Rose Vine demanded, and the girls were all too eager to oblige her command.

Huang Huoyu resumed her approach. Her words echoed throughout the empty room. "I have need of you. Come with me."

Sun Jia reclined in her chair. "It pleases me to see you like this, without a backdrop of scum tainting your image. I'm glad you've learned how to keep better company."

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And indeed she looked quite pleased, though she strained not to show it.

"What business is it of yours, what company I keep?" Huang Huoyu asked.

Immediately Sun Jia's mood plummeted.

"She's still around, isn't she? That Liao Lan..." Lady Rose Vine nearly spat the words out. "I hate to even speak her name. Did you think I'd be more willing to oblige your request if she merely weren't present here now? Your choice of company is irreconcilable with my presence. You wish to bargain for a favor? Well, let me make this easy on you. Cut your ties with that woman, and I'll consider your request."

Huang Huoyu stopped mere inches from the throne, and yet seemed to draw ever closer still. Sun Jia subconsciously shrunk further back into her chair. The great figure loomed over her. Sun Jia had to crane her neck just to meet those golden eyes.

"Bargain?" Huang Huoyu mouthed, displeasure flickering across her face.

Sun Jia gasped as a hand seized her throat. She was hefted off her chair and raised startlingly high into the air.

"Does this look like a market to you?"

Her legs dangling in the air, Sun Jia tried to wring herself out of her steely grasp, all to no avail. But still she tried to argue her case, straining to get the words out.

"It's in your best interest to break ties with her as soon as possible! She's no good, a turncoat, the worst kind of villain. I'm just offering a piece of advice! Don't make yourself learn from experience! Or at the very least... don't force me to endure her presence..."

"She's my disciple. Of course she'll be there. Make your peace with that however you will. I'll let go when you're ready."

Sun Jia tried to be stubborn, but she had little air left. With the last of it, she forced out, "Fine! Fine! Anything you say!"

She plummeted back into her chair. Sun Jia panted for air, rubbing her bruised neck.

...

All across the land, the world's greatest fighters were reminded of an obligation they didn't even know they had.

In a crowded hall, a troupe was performing another episode of the Gallant Glaive. Guo Xiu once again starred as the hero of his own legend. He flew around the stage, swinging his signature weapon in mesmerizing patterns.

But during one such stunt, his eyes fell on an errant presence within the crowd.

There was no mistaking that person for anyone else; no crowd could conceal her lengthy stature, stifle her glowing features. Almost unconsciously the merchant-warrior flew into a state of combat-ready exhilaration. His glaive flew quicker than it was supposed to, and, sharp as it was, slashed a performer across the arm.

Miraculously, the cut was shallow; more than that, the actor gritted his teeth and resumed the performance.

The golden haired woman remained in her seat. Guo Xiu took the opportunity to pretend that he had never noticed her, and tried to carry on with the act. Though he was shaken, and the nerves brought with them a few more fumbles, the theatrics proceeded according to plan.

When the show was over, the Gallant Glaive made his escape into the city the instant the curtains fell.

But he got to round only a scant few corners before the woman was suddenly before him.

Smiling strangely, she grabbed his glaive and effortlessly wrangled it out of his grasp. Guo Xiu knew he was outmatched beyond hope; without hesitation he resorted to groveling.

In the Kunlun Mountains, the council of elders had once again gathered to deliberate over the position of sect head. Because they could never reach a conclusion, the actual topic would always turn out to be the distribution of authority in the continued absence of a leader.

Their council had been brought to an abrupt halt when chunks of the ceiling collapsed upon their round table.

The woman that put them into such dire straits followed the debris down. Unlike the boulders that preceded her, she landed softly like a leaf. They all knew just how fierce she was, and didn't dare to oppose her demands.

In the kingdom of the Ming, where king and queen carved their own domain by fighting shoulder to shoulder, the two lovers found themselves once again facing their strongest foe. They dared not test her mettle again and acquiesced with ease.

She remembered to call on the one she had once spared of her test by a melancholic whim. Pan Mingli's fortune wouldn't last. He had been sought out, forced to undergo a fierce ordeal like many others before him. Or perhaps even more so than them - he did not get witness his own techniques wielded by another; instead he beheld a swordsmanship he could not even begin to understand, his confidence as a warrior completely shattered.

Without exception, everyone Huang Huoyu had deemed worthy of receiving her test of skill was called to serve.

All around the world, sects and kingdoms turned eerily still.

...

Deep within a forbidden bog was tucked away a picturesque little mansion surrounded by flowers.

In the back was a small courtyard, its boundaries paved with stones. In the middle were two tombstones, honoring two heroes of the age. An old woman kneeled as she tended to the graves.

As though blown in by an errant wind, a golden haired visitor arrived. Ouyang Chen noticed her presence only when she approached. She straightened her back.

"You're too late." The old woman said. "He has passed."

She caught that white robe billowing beside her in the corner of her eye. The golden gaze lingered on the graves for a long time.

Ouyang Chen said, "I was loath to bury them next to each other, but Ling Ling insisted."

Something like a chuckle emerged from above.

"You're still keeping up the spiteful act?" Huang Huoyu asked. "Cut it out. I've already had my fill of it from our mutual acquaintance."

"Why have you returned?"

"I was hoping to speak to him one last time." She admitted.

"What do you intend to do now?"

"I must finish my task. Come with me."

"Still you persist in the pursuit of something foolish. Well, it is not my place to be telling you something you already know."

"Go and get ready." She cut her off. "We're setting out."

Ouyang Chen did not disobey.

Huang Huoyu remained at Cui Shen's grave for quite some time.

Everyone she could have called a friend was now gone.

...