A Fishy Cì Kè

The Cì Kè stalked forward, moving through the shadows, their domain weapon held in one hand, their suicide talisman wrapped around their other, and their Flowers’ Shadows Layer Over Each Other on the Pavilion Art rushing over them as they approached their target.

Their Flowers’ Art was a complex weave of mana manipulation that bounced from spell to spell. An invisibility spell that spun shadows so intense that they could blind the caster. A veiling spell so intense that it would inhibit the caster’s ability to use mana. A conjured poison so intense that even the scent from conjuring it onto the dagger should hurt, or perhaps even kill, the wielder. A curse to inhibit the spirit so devastating that its use should lash back onto the caster and render their spirit all but useless. 

All of it would have fallen apart if not for their sect’s unique technique that formed the foundation of the Art. The Endless Shadows. A full-gate spell that served as a permanent meta-spell, preventing the backlash from using spells that should have rendered them into a gibbering mess. 

And the Cì Kè, having taken the Gate of Heaven Elixir, and opened their seventh gate, had one last special surprise for their target: The Shade’s Cut, a spell that cut the body, but was also capable of directly cutting not just into the mana-garden, but the very foundations. It could, in theory, completely cut off a person’s mana-garden. Even if they survived the gaping wound to the soul – unlikely, but possible, as this was one of the few techniques that could potentially kill even an immortal, so long as the right precautions were taken – they would never be worthy of calling themselves a cultivator again. 

The Cì Kè did not know who had paid the absurd prices to contract them, the Head Elder and second to the Matriarch of the Flowering Moon Pavillion, the greatest Cì Kè group in all of Greater Daocheng. But they did know the name of their target. 

Chen Liyu. 

The man had ties to the rebellion in the western lands of Tianzhu. Rumors said that he had personally battled against an invading occultist-level Inmyeonjo in the name of the Shining Spirits there, though that was obviously an impossible myth. Punching up a gate was possible, and two could even be done at the lower tiers of power, but Chen Liyu’s last reported measure of strength had been mid fifth gate. Him combating against an occultist – an occultist like they were – just wasn’t possible. 

Unfortunately, the man must have had some minor training as a Cì Kè, as they were having a hard time finding him. He should be blazing like a star of power, with his beast bloodline making his cultivation baser and more filled with jing than most, strengthening him as if he were a body cultivator. He had always been like that in towns, proudly displaying his power for all to see. But frustratingly, they could not find him. 

They slipped from shadow to shadow within the abandoned monastery, growing increasingly frustrated with each moment that passed. Four weeks in the wild, hiking out to the ruins of an long-dead dragon worshiping sect, and now he managed to give them the slip? It didn’t make any sense!

Seconds ticked by into minutes, when they finally felt it. The man’s veil slipped. It was only for a moment, but it was enough to send the Cì Kè chasing after him like a bloodhound with a scent. They stepped through shadow, then erupted out into a hidden room. 

It had been cleverly done, not using any magic at all, and with nearly a foot of stone that prevented it from being found. It was beautiful, in a way, with clusters of glowing crystals from the walls making the whole scene glow like twilight, as waters from a natural hot spring flowed into hidden, underground pools. Chen Liyu had added bags of herbs, doubtless acquired by his knowledge mage partner, into the bath, amplifying the natural jing powers that rushed through the water. He was relaxed, his eyes closed, and they slipped forward, moving from shadow to shadow, their domain dagger held high. 

In an instant, they struck down, channeling as much power into the blow as they could, infusing it with every iota of deadly will, and letting it hum with the full might of an occultist assassin. 

Chen Liyu exploded. 

During the fractions of a second where their dagger was descending, he leapt from the bath, kicking out, and a jet of water from his foot caused him to rip backwards just fast enough to avoid the blow. He landed, fish-scaled hands extended to either side to hold his balance, and looked at them. 

He. 

Looked. 

At. 

Them. 

They didn’t know how the brutish cultivator was piercing their veil. Even if the man had an entire Art made up of multiple spells, like their own, piercing the spells of someone two stages higher than yourself should be near impossible. 

Chen Liyu didn’t seem to care. 

An instant later, the Cì Kè’s heart calmed. He was looking at them, that was true, but not right at them. The man had an idea where they were, but he could not see them. Which meant they would still win this. 

Cì Kè were often called assassins. Contract killers. Wetworks for hire. Whatever the nation’s term, they were compared to the Cì Kè. But one instance where they differed was simple – Cì Kè were trained martial artists and warriors, as well as assassins. 

The Cì Kè lunged forward, moving through the shadows to stab at the fish-man’s heart. With all the power concentrated in their dagger, they only needed a single good cut, and their target would be dead. Unfortunately, Chen Liyu seemed to know that. 

A watery aura of blue light began to envelop him as he cast Embody River Dragon, his power surging. It must have been a full Art, as the Cì Kè could feel a half-dozen other spells activating and interfacing with the man’s full-gate spell. A fourth stage full-gate? What nonsense was that? 

Unfortunately, the man was strong. They weren’t a body cultivator, not like Chen Liyu, and so the first three swipes of their dagger failed to find purchase. With that said, they were still two realms above Chen Liyu. The man’s hand, glowing blue with the magic of a water dragon, was unable to find purchase as they shifted and flowed out of the way. 

It was a battle of endurance now, and the higher cultivation of the Cì Kè meant that Chen Liyu would lose. The man seemed to realize that himself, as he slowed for just a moment. He closed his eyes, releasing the blue aura of his embodiment, dismissing his magic, and the Cì Kè smiled. He had accepted his death, as was right and proper. They lashed forward, casting Shade’s Cut, stabbing right at Chen Liyu’s throat.

And missed.

Missed? How was that possible? 

The fish cultivator had moved only the length of a single barleycorn, and completely avoided their blow. Almost as if he had attained wu wei. But that was impossible. Across all of Greater Daocheng, the number of warriors who could hold onto the state of wu wei for even a few seconds could be counted on their fingers. An upstart peasant rebel with the bloodline of a bottom feeding carp and mid-fifth gate advancement was not one of them. 

It was a lucky move. It had to be. They slashed back, and Chen Liyu dropped, his eyes still closed. The dagger missed his head by mere centimeters, and when they plunged the dagger down in a strike that could not miss, light sparked around Chen Liyu again. Their Art bloomed back into life, giving them the strength needed to dodge the attack and rise to their feet. Then, just as quickly as it had appeared, the spells vanished. The fish struck at the Cì Kè’s elbow, a single spell lighting within his spirit, and the Cì Kè stepped back, moving through the shadows…

And right into the kick, empowered with the same magic that had been channeled into his hand. It slammed into their ribs, breaking several of them, and they let out a pained gasp. Chen Liyu stepped forward, and the step was… wrong. It wasn’t the same perfectly fluid motion of wu wei that the man had used when he dodged their attacks. He seemed to realize this as well, as his Art flared fully back to life. 

“Thank you,” the dead fool said. “That was the longest I’ve been able to hold onto the state of effortless action in weeks.” 

They leapt at him, dagger screaming in their hand. The man couldn’t hold onto wu wei. Of course he couldn’t. The fact he’d used it for as long as he had within the fight was impressive enough as it was, and the Cì Kè understood better why someone wanted him dead. If he could master the resonance technique, he’d be incredibly dangerous. 

But even though he didn’t flow with the same exact, thoughtless perfection of wu wei, the man still moved like the river dragons whose power he borrowed. He slipped aside the dagger, struck out with a blow that shattered a bone in their shoulder, kick-stepped to dodge another blow, and brought a fist into the Cì Kè’s side. Every instance, every motion, the Cì Kè fell further behind, panic spiking through them. 

This wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible. No mid-fifth gate could fight them, let alone win! 

Chen Liyu’s hand grabbed onto their face and slammed it into the wall, while they stepped down on their wrist, knocking the dagger away.

“Who hired you? Was it the Storm King? The River Lord? The Windrider?” 

Instead of saying anything, the Cì Kè activated their suicide talisman, and their own Shade’s Cut activated. It sliced into their own spirit, ripping them apart, while the second spell within, the one from the Matriarch, caused silver light to spark. Their mana-garden, every drop of their – admittedly mostly drained – mana detonated, and that was the last that they knew.

Chen Liyu was thrown back across the room, his back slamming against the wall as he crumpled to the ground. Blood leaked from his mouth, his back, and his face. He reached within his storage ring and withdrew a box he had stolen from the vaults of the Singing Sword Sect.

Hands shaking, blood rushing down his shoulders and onto his hands, he was barely able to open the carved slats and reveal the shimmering green pill within. The Emerald Moss of the Water Curtain pill was an emergency measure, and not one he’d thought he’d need to use when he’d sensed the Cì Kè following him, but that suicide attack had been nothing to scoff at. 

The pill would have its price. It could heal nearly any wound. In exchange, he’d lose access to his mana for the better part of two months. He had been hoping to reach the peak of fifth gate before the Elysian Mastery Tournament, but it seemed like it wasn't to be.

He pressed the blood-soaked pill between his lips and swallowed. An instant later, he was swallowed by green light as the healing magic overtook him.