Too much power in that kick to take head on.

Steps of the Alpha carried him a short gap away from the boy, who, despite their distance, grinned and pushed a palm forward. Grisla’s hair stood on end; braced himself at once for impact—an invisible attack collided with his defense but shoved his balance away from him, throwing him to the wall.

The boy’s companions didn’t seem to be too interested in the battle, standing on the sidelines pretending as if they’ll wound their pride and standing in against a fourth cycle. They watched as the two’s shadows glided over stone, matching pace, performing a careful dance, retreating when necessary, advancing on weakness. Grisla’s backhanded blow was reversed, and he ended up getting tossed in that error.

When he caught his fall, two more invisible palms struck his chest, and the boy was dashing at him to follow up on the opportunity, “You’re done for!” he screamed.

Grisla was too busy reeling in pain to notice his charge, but if his battle instincts told him anything, he was in more than a dangerous situation. He raised his chin to find the boy’s shoe scarring the stone, aiming to take his jaw off. A close dodge, however, not close enough, he still stole his skin on his passing.

“Third Strike!” Grisla’s fist rocketed itself to his gut. He grimaced, Not enough striking power!

His opponent slapped his hand away. “Don’t insult me!” He launched Grisla off the ground with a kick.

A difference in cultivation means he’d be lacking the necessary output to crack the external defense: Juva that coats a cultivator’s body as a thin film of armor, allowing a flexible defense if one was concerned about going to battle; this would the last layer of many. Aided by armor that’d do more for survival than a direct line of power feeding to the body’s defense, making another drain on a limited pool of energy.

When Grisla got up, he couldn’t proceed.

“Please, stop! Not now!” Shu’s cultivation at the seventh cycle was at full blast, readied to advance on whichever of them attacked. They could try to get around her, but of course, she’ll just follow up and be right in the middle just as she is now.

The boy’s power began to battle for dominance against Shu’s. A sixth versus a seventh, the auras were locked into a tug-of-war for supremacy. Which would inevitably be the sixth’s loss, just to save face, he went ahead for it anyways.

“Must be nice,” The boy rolled his neck, “to be the Grand Archivist’s favorite.”

“I do not hang on my position for preferential treatment and privilege, Hu Wing.”

“No? Even so, there’s no reason to be intruding in this. It takes two to battle, y’know. Our fellow guest hasn’t a problem himself fighting me.”

“Are you sticking up for a complete outsider, him over the sect?” Hu Wing said. He looked elsewhere, gestured, then shot forward for Grisla in reckless abandon.

“Where do you think you’re going!” Shu tried to cut him off again, but this time her path was obstructed by a body of their own. The three girls stood as sentries, with aura prepared for a scuffle should things get even worse.

Hu Wing and Grisla exchanged blows again, this time Grisla went on the offensive, raining blows to keep him locked in place. Hu Wing sneered; a burst of air came from his person, forcing the fourth cycle back. They stared.

Moving his head, “Shu,” Grisla said. “Hold on to the sidelines for a bit, ‘kay? We’ve just met, you don’t need to put yourself in a position over me.”

Her face twisted in response, “It’s a gesture of friendliness, dunce! A shred of my heart, admittedly, weeps at your fate, fourth cycle Grisla. I am a kind soul, who has pity for even the lowest among us.”

Grisla, sighing, said: “Oh? And is it not because I’m a Grittus?”

“As if a Grittus would have such a struggle against a mere Hu Wing.”

Hu Wing and Grisla acted as if they’d gotten stabbed then.

“They say you’re Orlith, but that doesn’t mean anything. Could mean you’re the servant, or maybe the house dog?”

Seeing what she was leading to, Grisla couldn’t but help but throw out a chuckle. He’d forgotten the feeling of that, and for someone he had just met, bringing it up again, he couldn’t help but see the point she was getting to. It relieved him, almost.

But she’s got an unusual way of putting it.

Grisla brought his attention back to Hu Wing. “I suppose we both want to get serious then,”

Rolling his shoulders, Hu Wing spoke, “Finally decided to play for real, I take it?”

“Something like that,” Grisla said. “Didn’t think I needed to do this so soon, though, that’s what sucks.”

“Remember,” The Orlith grabbed his shirt, “you asked for this.”

Under watch from all eyes, he slowly began to undress himself. Starting with his tunic, he allowed it to drift to the floor. From here, there was only an undershirt left, but that’s not what took the group’s attention.

The girls squinted, “Hey, is that…”

“How lame,” someone giggled.

Shu herself was perplexed as the rest, yet she abstained from commenting.

Wrapped around his chest like a bandolier, was—

“…Weights? Are you messing with me?” Hu Wing blustered. “I asked for your full power, not this clown show!”

Grisla looked as if he’d been slapped. “But wait, this is the power you asked for—”

“Be serious!” A vein waved from his Hu Wing’s forehead.

“So, you want me to be serious but don’t want me to be serious?” Grisla smiled. “You’re a very fussy person, Hu Wing.”

Under all their dumbfounded stares, they watched as Grisla slowly pulled out each plate from his vest, tossing them to the side and what’s also to be noted, that each one of them cracked the flooring a tad, making it seem as if Grisla was vandalizing the sect just for the sake of it. Grisla put two hands on the last plate, “Hold on, this’ll take me a second.” He was a boy lifting the weight of the world from that thing, letting go and—performed a step back for toe clearance. A clap from the fall, an additional crack from the cries of the tiling.

Their strange guest rolled his neck; stretched. “Feels like I can breathe again. Also, who knew that our bodies were so light.”

“Your cultivation hasn’t increased in the slightest,” Hu Wing mentioned.

He waved his hands, “Forget it. I don’t care anymore, I’m the fool for expecting anything.”

The power emanating from his presence faded, disappointment evident. “I’ll be merciful: Break your arms and beg for forgiveness, and Ji Nan might forgive you. He doesn’t carry grudges that strong,” Hu Wing said.

Grisla rolled his eyes, Since when?

“Since she’s so eager to help out, Shu can do the deed for you if you’re hesitant.” He caught a dirty look from her right after.

“I’m not going to do anything.” Grisla stretched a leg out, “You’re even more stupid than you look, if you think I’ll willingly follow that.”

On cue, Hu Wing’s power flashed to life again. “Hospitalization it’ll be then; failing to recognize Mount Tai, an unnecessary regret.”

Grisla tilted his head; posture straight, relaxed. His smile foreboding, “Just don’t blink.”

Hu Wing, outer disciple of the Jade Fate Sect and a warrior at the sixth cycle under Solidification, saw Grisla take one step, a bend of the waist, then vanished. Gone, and Hu Wing couldn’t follow wherever his presence went—as if he’d essentially erased himself. He wasn’t immature in battle, an unexpected development, but he wouldn’t be a member of the Jade Fate Sect if it were so easy to take him unawares.

By instinct, a burst of air exploded with him at its epicenter. The Jade Fate Sect specializes in wind based Esoteric Techniques, which makes sense, given the location of the sect. Hard winds buffet the peaks, forcing those who understand and attune themselves to the wind, take on skills that reflect their nature. Mortals who brave the journey up to the sect, usually end up forced back due to altitude sickness or, after a fall, don’t come back at all.

Grisla had experienced a similar technique already, courtesy of Mu Yin. Back then, it mattered little if they couldn’t match him in speed, if their techniques took on the burden of it for them. In a way, Grisla’s speed advantage was negated just by that fact. However…

Most of them are much too arrogant to see through it, and when they do, it’s too late.

“Where?!” Hu Wing exclaimed. His spiritual sense scoured the small courtyard for a whiff of where he might be. Eyes shooting all over. He noticed something, and grinning, he said: “Tricks only work on the incompetent and foolish! Now die!” A slash of wind cut elsewhere. Turning his head, he’ll break out in laughter watching Grisla trying to pick up his entrails. But—

His pupils constricted to pinpricks, “Impossible. He was just there!”

If Hu Wing’s intention were to deface sect property, he’d succeeded. A deep gash had been put on the wall, absent one individual to eat the brunt of it. A breath of time later, someone tapped his shoulder.

Grisla’s simple face was behind him. “Pay attention.”

“Courting death!” He slashed again. The Orlith boy was gone. In this instance what lay behind his target was the group, who panicked upon seeing the danger coming for them.

“What’re you aiming at!”

“Are you stupid?”

The girls dispersed out of the way, shy one. She avoided most of the blow, but “Sister Fu’s hurt!” One exclaimed, the girl who wasn’t as fortunate was sadly not as swift as her companions and ended up getting clipped by the wind. Her sobs brought a wave of Juva with deadly intent, aimed right at him.

“Control yourself,” Grisla said, appearing in front of the boy. “Otherwise, you’re just going to keep hurting your friends.”

Hu Wing didn’t answer that, and instead—shot a fist forward. Grisla knew better than to try to block that. A failed attack begets a consequence. His chin spun with the world and forcing him for the first time to catch his fall.

Sneering, “Didn’t hurt a bit, trickster,” he said.

“Thought so," Grisla blinked. "Well, doesn’t matter anyways, that’ll be the last attack you get to throw.”

Hu Wing’s spiritual sense ran a marathon trying to detect his presence. In every moment he got a mark on his position, Grisla’s presence would wash away, as to mock that fact. Spiritual sense looking left, eyes right. Both tools were failing him and the girls, who were busy attending to the injured, couldn’t care a whit about his trouble.

He spat through his teeth, “T-there’s no way a fourth cycle could be this fast from dropping a couple of weights, it makes no sense!” Arm waving to perform another wind slash, it didn’t even come out—Grisla came from seemingly the void to halt it mid-action.

“I agree. Don’t feel too bad, I just happen to be special.”

The disciple went to shatter Grisla’s sternum with a knee; as expected, to not even his surprise, Grisla traded places with air.Hu Wing had nowhere to hit, and nowhere to hide.

All he saw were afterimages—Grisla struck out.

If Grisla didn’t have the immediate power to end it quick, then who’s to say Hu Wing can endure a prolonged assault?

A fist touched Hu Wing at center mass, the beginning of the end. Grisla’s battle instincts told him of what needed to perform—what he needed to do; his fists did their sequence.

First Strike: Earth fears the Master.

Jaw.

Second Strike: Dividing rivers on a whim.

Kidney.

Third Strike: Heaven within my grasp.

Solar plexus.

Fourth Strike: The Buddha submits.

Nose.

Fifth Strike: Sunder the firmament.

Heart.

Sixth Strike: Injure reality.

Temple.

Seventh—Final—Strike: Slay the Immortal!

Grisla’s speed came to a crawl. It was the fastest Earth shatters; Heaven quakes he’d ever performed. And he felt the strain.

But in the end, Hu Wing had something worse to feel.

Just to the side of the girl he’d injured in his recklessness, he himself was embedded into the wall, blood trying their best to escape. Eyes rolled back, it would take some decent pills and rest to get him back into fighting shape on a casual observation.

Shu’s voice came. “That was… ‘Earth shatters; Heaven quakes’ wasn’t it?”

Responding late, “You know of it?” he said.

“Yes. Only legitimate clan members are taught the technique.” Her eyes widened, “But that means—"

Grisla shuddered. His knees gave out, and, unexpectedly, Shu was there to catch him.

She thought about it, “You’re… Grisla Orlith, wait.”

And the stars aligned, “That Grisla Orlith?”

“Hey, you there? Hey!”

The Orlith boy was out, sleeping on Shu’s shoulder.

“He’s… expended all his energy, just… for that fight.” A voice spat. “Ji Nan’ll have a field day killing him.” To their surprise, Hu Wing was tougher than they expected. Didn’t mean he was mobile, as that was answered swiftly: “You three, pick me up, take me back.” He spat through some bloodied teeth.

“The faker’s not half bad,” He choked on air, wheezed as he tried to pull up words from somewhere not here, the girls who held him up did a half-effort, it seems they still have a grudge. “Ji Nan has a message for him, make sure he receives it otherwise Brother Ji Nan will be giving it himself.”

Shu raised her head, “What is it?”