It was no surprise that Li’Uin and Baamai, a young woman gifted with an ice affinity, were the competitors for the final round. Alpha seemed unconcerned about that development, and I reasoned she did not have a preference.

I wondered if she’d even had a chance to meet those participating in this competition before today. These people all might have come from different pods—a way to infuse new blood into the community and minimize the concerns for in-breeding.

Li’Uin was quick to react, attacking as soon as the Hindel, serving as judge and referee, gave the signal. He used the same opening move he’d used in a previous battle, summoning a spear made of metal that he flung at Baamai.

The water around the spear began boiling, significantly different from his previous attack. He had superheated the metal, probably hoping to offset any defense Baamai’s control of ice might allow.

Baamai must have expected the attack. Even before the spear had left Li’Uin’s hand, she had created a shield of ice in front of her. One that was beveled, curved into a bowl shape. As the spear approached the shield of ice, it changed, collapsing and reforming. The spear was quickly sheathed in that condom of ice, its energy spent, now nothing but inert metal under Baamai’s control.

“That is interesting,” I said. “I’ve never thought to use ice in such a manner. I wonder if I could reproduce that effect on land?”

“Look carefully,” the Patriarch suggested, “she uses the surrounding water, sourcing that water as the material to create her ice.

“She has an ice affinity, so she can create ice without the benefit of water, but by using the available water, she has reduced the amount of Qi she is expending. You can probably do something similar, but it would be more effective during a rainstorm. At least if you are considering Qi conversion to energy as a variable.”

Learning how to maximize your Qi pool during a fight was as crucial as learning martial techniques. A cultivator who drained themselves, one that wasted Qi, did not live long. It was one of the first lessons Elder Shadow had taught me.

Efficiency was paramount. From initial experience to perfected understanding, the understanding of my martial techniques required me to do more with less. To implement each movement not only precisely but using the minimum Qi needed.

My cultivation technique helped when it came to adapting to the changes in my Qi stores. The precision required to cycle my technique so I didn’t make mistakes and risk damage carried over to how I practiced my martial arts. I might spend hours performing only one segment of a movement until I had perfected my understanding of that movement and had acquired the muscle memory to react instantly. The muscle memory included learning how to minimize dipping into my Qi stores.

Each time I practiced that movement, I also experimented with the Qi energy. How the elements worked to enhance the technique and how to minimize the cost for both Qi and focus. It did little good to be so focused on my own movements that I ignored someone attacking me or my surroundings. I could react to my opponent instinctively by automating my attack and defense Katas.

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“Why is he abandoning his spear?” Wu Chen asked.

I had wondered the same thing, but the Patriarch had a reasonable answer. “He would have to break through the Qi surrounding the spear to regain control over the spear. I would guess that he has decided to use a different method of attack, hoping that his opponent would release her Qi at some point and he can reclaim the spear without contesting for control.

“If he tries to wrest control from her now, it becomes a battle of will and Qi. Unless you have a tier advantage over your opponent, you don’t want to get into that type of wrestling match.”

“Each contestant is at the same tier and realm,” the Alpha interjected, “they know this. But even then, there are differences. A person might have just stepped into that tier, while another has reached the perfected level.

“That uncertainty about how you compare to each other is enough to keep Li’Uin from attempting to break the Qi lock Baamai has created around the spear.”

I didn’t recognize the cube that Li’Uin had manifested and was now holding. Focusing my perception and my [Dao of Movement] on the item allowed me to watch as the cube made of metal began to break apart. He must have removed it from a storage device when I was focused on the spear.

The metal that sloughed off the cube reformed, becoming a swarm of needles, bullets, and darts. It was amazing how many weapons Li’Uin managed to create. The weapons that he released were shaped to ignore the water, gliding effortlessly through the medium. He timed the attacks so that there was a constant onslaught. The barrier of ice that Baamai was protected by was bombarded continuously.

Baamai’s condom of ice trick was useless with his new attack method. She didn’t have enough time to encase each projectile before a new one arrived. That allowed Li’Uin to reclaim each spent projectile and use the sliver of metal again and again.

Baamai finally reacted by moving. She swam around Li’Uin, forcing him to turn to keep her in sight as he strafed her with metal shards. She continued to create an ice barrier as she swam, a growing wall of ice that shattered and reformed with each of Li’Uin’s attacks.

Li’Uin seemed dismissive of her decision to circle him. I noticed a change in his facial features, he had assumed the battle was all but over, and he had won. If he could see what was happening on the other side of the ice barrier that was not only obscuring his vision but his perception, he wouldn’t have been so sure.

Baamai had a dual affinity. Water and ice. And the barrier of ice she was creating and recreating was hiding the water that was moving, flowing in currents of Qi that got stronger and faster with each revolution she swam.

She was creating a vortex of ice and water. Each time the barrier was destroyed, she would build a new one closer to where Li’Uin stood. The shattered ice was claimed and added to the whirlpool she was forming.

Li’Uin finally noticed how close the ice barrier had become but was too late to react. With his latest attack, Baamai released the vortex of collapsing energy she had created. The ice shards exploded inward, the sharp edges cutting through everything in their path.

Li’Uin was able to withstand a large percentage of those attacks, enough that he wasn’t killed, but not enough that his body wasn’t riddled with wounds. It was then that the second part of the Vortex activated.

The water Baamai controlled reaching into those open wounds and siphoning the blood directly from within his body. He began to shrivel up, looking much like a grape that had turned into a raisin.

Baamai’s vortex continued the dehydration process she had begun by flash freezing his skin and organs. If the referee hadn’t taken that moment to intervene, Li’Uin would have died.

I’m not sure if he knew what happened to him or that he had lost as he was led away. Baamai was honorable enough not to celebrate her victory before he had left. Still, once the arena was hers alone, she released an undulating song, the Hindel version of whale song that declared her victory for all to hear.

Her song seemed to assert who she was, even for those of us who couldn’t translate it. She was Baamai, victor, and Consort.