A Tale of Forgotten Gods

Chapter 41: Dreamer vs. Marionettist

The Mistress’s gaze swept over Xue Lan. Behind her, the puppets twitched in hunger to attack. She raised her hand, her palm split open. Instead of blood, a scythe burst through her skin. Bone white and curved like a crescent moon, with veins of red metal running along the blade.

As the scythe came out, the skin of her palm knit together and healed in an instant. She gripped the haft with both hands.

Slash.

She swung. A crescent arc of blood launched from the scythe, screaming toward Xue Lan.

He disappeared from the sight. Behind her, the wind shifted as he appeared behind her, his hand clenching the dagger tightly. Her eyes flickered. ”Faster than expected...” She murmured and spun, then her scythe clashed with his dagger, catching half of it. The clash of metal rang through the hall.

Both of them stepped back. She pulled the threads. The flesh puppets clawed their way up. They twisted their bodies and launched forward.

”I’ll see how long you can sustain your authority, Dreamer.” All of them swarmed.

Xue Lan moved through them. The dagger split into two. His other hand caught the flying dagger, then it left his hand. In the air, it multiplied into two, three, four, and eight. Each dagger found a puppet’s neck. Their heads rolled on the ground, and the daggers vanished.

The Mistress squinted. ”... Is he really an Ordinal 7?” Doubt flickered in her eyes.

Then her wrist moved in the air, and more of her puppets appeared from the ceiling, launching toward Xue Lan like arrows. She didn’t give him a chance and launched the crescent blades toward him.

Xue Lan moved back, and his dagger cut through them. Before the hit could land, his body vanished into moths. They flew toward the wall and seeped into the stone.

The crescent moon hit the pillar with a loud thud. The rocks broke, and stones fell like rain. Dust rose. Xue Lan had already prepared his move. From the shadow beneath her, he reformed his body. His hand caught her ankle and yanked her. The Mistress stumbled, and he lunged forward. Xue Lan was close. The dagger moved, inches from reaching her stomach.

”Flesh transposition.” She whispered. Xue Lan’s dagger only slashed the air. Her body crumbled, flesh sloughing from bones, and bones falling with a clatter.

Behind him, a puppet’s chest split open. She stepped out of it, switching places almost instantly. He didn’t expect that. Before he could look behind...

Hssss

The scythe cut his back with a swoosh. Xue Lan let out a raspy gasp, a sharp, involuntary sound. The back of his robe split. He vanished and reappeared eight paces away from her, one hand pressed to his spine. The Mistress of Misfortune laughed; her chuckle echoed through the hallway. She clenched her scythe tightly; Xue Lan’s blood dripped from it.

”Oh. You said something about knowing my tricks. How did you miss that one?” She mimicked Xue Lan’s tone, taunting the same way.

Xue Lan spat and straightened again. Blood dripped from his back onto the stone floor. His gaze hardened.

”In her domain, her powers amplify. But this much...” He thought, ”A simple miscalculation.” He gritted his teeth. ”The battle is one-sided once the domain fails.” His moths flew toward the ceiling.

He grinned and then said. ”I must have pitied you and taken that hit. But such a child, you believed in that.”

The Mistress’s smile faltered. Her hand clenched the scythe, and she braced herself.

Her scythe swept low, aiming for his legs. Xue Lan jumped back, his movements slower. He didn’t disappear this time. The blade bit into his left leg.

”Tch, that small distraction.” He murmured, landing on the floor badly. He quickly stood up. The moths kept emerging. ”Just a few more minutes.” He was observing; his stance turned defensive for a second.

The Mistress pulled the strings; a vast bear made of dead flesh lunged at him. Xue Lan’s expression turned serious. He raised his hand, caught the bear’s claw, and held the flesh tightly. His other hand chopped the strings off, and then he lifted the bear with his hand and threw it toward her with tremendous force. Her puppets surged forward, shoving the bear back toward him. He jumped in the; his eye twitched slightly.

Then he threw himself at her. The Mistress quickly moved her scythe. He landed on the haft of her scythe and kicked her face with full force.

That kick sent the Mistress crashing on the pillar. It broke apart, falling on the ground with a loud crushing noise, shaking the palace.

Someone behind a pillar moved but went still again. A person, she looked at it; her eyes gave the message to not jump in. Xue Lan noticed her expression.

The loud crash echoed through the palace, reaching the lair.

Zhuo stood frozen, the woman’s broken plea still echoing in his mind. Then a crash. The ceiling trembled. Dust fell from the stone. He raised his head upward.

He glanced at the woman; the thing moved in her stomach, wanting to escape. ”I’ll come back. Soon.” He whispered he didn’t even know whether that was a promise he could make or a lie he believed was the truth.

Zhuo turned and sprinted toward the corridor to find the stairways.

Meanwhile, Jian Yue, who was also running through the lair, heard the noise. He could hear the blades colliding. He focused on the voice. ”Is it Zhuo?” Then he heard clearly. ”Xue Lan. What is he doing here?” He looked back at the stairs and paused. He turned toward the stairway. ”I can hear it; he is against the Mistress.”

Jian Yue looked back; Zhuo’s footsteps were close, moving upward. He had found the other stairs. He also moved toward the stairway in front of him, and followed the noise.

Back to Xue Lan.

The Mistress groaned as she stood. The pillar broke and fell near her. She raised her head, examining the palace as if checking if it were falling.

Both of them stared at each other. She clenched her jaws tight and reached out for her scythe. Xue Lan moved, appearing in front of her. ”Flesh transposition!” She barely avoided the attack. Twelve paces away, she switched the place with one of her puppets.

The strings lifted the scythe, pulling it toward her.

”What are you?” She said as her eyes flickered with doubt.

”A Dreamer.” He replied calmly, hiding his pain. He looked over his shoulder at her.

”You aren’t ordinal 7.”

”My bad.”

”When did you...”

She looked at him in surprise. Xue Lan turned, facing her. At the same time, the walls began to crumble.

”You thought I was that stupid to fight an Ordinal 6 without any advantage?” He said, ”We are at the same power.” As he said that, the Mistress went silent. She watched him walk toward her. I underestimated him...

She braced herself and launched the crescent blades of blood, followed by her puppets. Xue Lan ran toward her. The blades passed through him like mist. She raised her palm, the crescent blood splattered on the ground, and then the blood bubbled up, erupting into jagged spikes beneath him.

Xue Lan didn’t stop as the spikes emerged; he twisted his body sideways to avoid them. He moved through the spikes with the flexibility of a snake. Another spike emerged. He twisted his chest and jerked his head aside as he avoided it. The spike caught his right cheek; razor edge hissed across his skin, and the blood left a searing line of fire on his right cheek.

He ignored the sting and surged forward, closing the distance between them.

”Is he not feeling any pain–” She stumbled back and switched places again. The puppets surrounding Xue Lan lay still. He looked around, trying to predict. Then, she appeared from the puppets beside him.

Her scythe moved, and Xue Lan’s dagger found her scythe. Both weapons clashed, the air rippling, dust exploding outward. Xue Lan slashed the dagger upward, creating a space before he curled his fingers in a fist. He landed a clean punch, but in the very next moment her body fell.

One of the puppets’ bodies split apart before she appeared from it. Xue Lan squeezed his lips, turning back before he felt strings on his wrist. They connected to the wall, and they pulled him toward the wall.

Xue Lan crashed into the wall. ”Grrgh!” He clenched his teeth. The wound on his back opened up. He stood again, but just at that moment. More strings caught his body. They coiled around him before he could react. Then from the shadows Jang Wu appeared, and with his scythe, he aimed for Xue Lan’s heart.

The world slowed down. The footsteps running echoed through the palace.

...

Clang!!

Jang Wu was close to finishing Xue Lan off in the right moment, but Zhuo jumped between them with a sudden jarring force. The two weapons slammed together, sending tremors down the arms of their wielders. Zhuo’s arms screamed, but retreat meant giving up to him. He could see the surprise in Jang Wu’s eyes.

”You again,” Jang Wu hissed.

”You ran like a coward.” Zhuo’s voice was steady, though his hands trembled. ”A warrior should never attack from behind.” He held his ground, blade locked against Jang Wu’s scythe.

Xue Lan, bound by the strings, stared at the boy’s back. Blood from his own wounds dripped onto the stone. He had expected no one; it wasn’t in the plan.

”Fool,” Xue Lan breathed, but the word carried no venom. ”I didn’t ask for your support.”

Zhuo didn’t look back. ”I feel like, so I did.”

The Mistress’s hand slammed the wall. Her plan had failed. Jang Wu jumped back, surprised to see Zhuo standing between them. Zhuo breathed and then took a few steps back toward Xue Lan.

Xue Lan’s body scattered into moths before reforming two paces away. He looked at Zhuo standing between him and Jang Wu.

”I had something to settle with Jang Wu,” Zhuo said. He held his sword poised horizontally above his brow, his eyes focusing on Jang Wu.

Xue Lan’s eyes glued to the hand... his two fingers were gone. They didn’t reform. ”Tch, I overused it. Only a second is left. I need to be more efficient.” Xue Lan thought as his other hand found the dagger’s handle.

He caught a brief glance at the corner of the palace. He noticed it. His moths had covered all the places, and that corner was the last thing left.

A grin curled up on his lips. His gaze shifted to the Mistress.

”I Won.”