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14: Trading Pointers
🕑 Added 2021-05-05 06:14:40 +0000 UTC“You can’t seriously be thinking of entering the tournament,” Blaise said in an exasperated tone as they walked out of the arena at the end of class.
Daphne frowned at him. “Of course I’m joining,” she said. Not only had the heavens presented her with another encounter to triumph over, but the prize she’d earn would certainly be of use to her cultivation. Already she had let slip two opportunities—while shopping, and a guest of Broken Nose’s companions—to fail a third time would be a great shame. One could not just rely on the heavens presenting one with a limitless amount of opportunities for there were other heroes being tended to as well.
“Cousin, be reasonable,” Blaise said. “This is your first year walking the path of the iron fist, and you’ve never shown talent for the sword before.”
“Broken Nose,” Daphne said, “step forward.”
He obeyed without hesitation. “Yes, my lady?”
“Recount to my brother what I did to you.”
“I heard all about that,” Blaise said, waving Broken Nose away. “He’s strawborn, Daphne. Perhaps he has some middling talent at magic, but anyone who actually showed potential would have been accepted into one of the Six Schools and found a sponsor. Beating him is like crushing an ant—it’s nothing to brag about.”
That was true enough. “I’m the heir to House Greenglade. I would not have my family lose face by refusing to represent them,” Daphne said.
“What loss of face is there in knowing where your strengths lie, and acting appropriately?” Blaise asked. “Only fools compete where they are weak. Is this some ploy to pique the prince’s interest in you? Because it’d be far more beneficial if you focused your efforts on what you’re actually good at.”
She narrowed her eyes at his insolence. As if she would ever debase herself just to capture the attention of a man, when naturally they should already be paying her attention. “Who are you to tell me what I am or am not good at?”
“I’m just concerned for you,” Blaise said. “The tournaments are serious business, and you could end up badly hurt. Take some care of yourself!”
“I think you underestimate me,” Daphne said.
“I think you overestimate yourself,” Blaise said. “Every stoneborn aristocrat that you’ll face will have years of experience on you. They’ve trained for this, and you haven’t.”
If only you knew, Daphne thought wryly. The young masters and jade beauties may have trained, but had they fought against demons? Had their lives ever truly been threatened yet? Were countless hours of martial stances drilled into their muscles that they could execute it while half-awake and hungry?
“You’d be hopelessly outmatched,” Blaise continued.
“So you believe,” Daphne said. “Let us put it to a test then.”
He raised a brow at her. “You want to duel me?”
Daphne nodded. “If I win, I compete without further protest from you.”
“And if you lose, you’ll withdraw?” Blaise asked.
“I won’t lose,” Daphne said.
Blaise held out his arm towards her. “Shall we seal this with an oath before the gods then?”
“Does my word no longer suffice for you?” Daphne asked. This strange custom of these people rearing its head once more. She humored him, and grasped his arm as he grasped hers. “Speak your words then.”
“Eirini, oh god of war and peace,” Blaise began, “bear witness to our mutual oath. Should I, Blaise Greenglade, be the victor of this duel, then let my cousin, Daphne Greenglade, withdraw herself from this year’s Middle School Tournament. If I be the vanquished, then let no more words part from my lips protesting her entry. May this oath bind me, or may summer scorch my skin black.”
A minor punishment for a minor matter. As Daphne understood it, there was nothing incorrect about how he’d worded his oath, and so she responded as was expected. “Let it be so.”
“Let it be so,” Blaise said. With that, their bargain was struck. “All that remains now is for us to set a time and place.”
“How about now?” Daphne asked. The sooner this was done with, the better. Some things really ought not be delayed, like slapping down arrogant toads and upstart peasants. They might get ideas.
“Now?” Blaise asked. “But it’s nearly time for lunch.”
“It’s a duel,” Daphne said. “It won’t last that long.”
He snorted. “Fine. If you’re so eager to lose, let’s have at it then.”
They reversed course, heading back towards the arena. A gaggle of richly dressed young women crossed paths with them, all of them sporting the latest fall fashion—which meant a silk outer dress that ended at one’s knees, high-heeled fur boots, and a sapphire bracelet. It was a look that suited them well.
“Lady Daphne,” one of them greeted. Genevieve, if she remembered correctly, who was from a House Nominal. While not from a clan as great as her own, this Genevieve was still the daughter of a clan head and that meant something. “We were just headed to lunch. Would you care to join us?”
“Perhaps another time,” Daphne responded in as courteous a tone as she could muster. It was important to give face to those of good standing, for if one insulted every young master and jade beauty they met, one would spend their whole life bogged down by challenges and duels instead of literally anything else. “My cousin has agreed to trade pointers with me.”
“She means a duel,” Blaise said.
Genevieve’s brow rose at that. “I wish you the best of luck then,” she said. “Maybe you could join us for tea tomorrow afternoon though? We’re planning a picnic out in the woods.”
She knew not what this picnic was meant to be, but out in the woods was where the qi was strongest so perhaps it was their word for cultivation? “That sounds lovely,” Daphne said. If nothing else, cultivating a good relationship with a woman who clearly had good taste in clothing couldn’t hurt her any.
Genevieve beamed at her. “I’ll send a servant to inform you of the details later on.”
“I look forward to it,” Daphne said, tipping her head to the side.
“I won’t keep you then,” the other girl said, letting them move past her and her coterie.
The arena was already empty of life besides her and her cousin, which was just as well. The matter at hand was one that was best kept within the clan, for to outsiders they must appear to be of one will and one mind. To show dissent was to court death, for one can only count on enemies to pounce on one’s weakness!
They stood ten paces apart, as was customary, and Blaise gave her a look. “You can’t seriously be expecting to fight me without a sword of your own.”
“Mother didn’t grant me one,” Daphne said.
“Gee, I wonder why,” Blaise said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “This only proves my point you know.”
Ah, this was really too much! “If you weren’t my cousin,” Daphne said calmly, “I, your father, would not be so merciful and leave you with your body and core intact.” He was, she kept reminding herself, the next in line to inherit, especially if she married the prince. To cripple him would be to weaken her own clan, and what sort of barbarian did that?
She breathed out slowly, becoming aware of every inch of her skin and clothes. It was a good thing the corset beneath her dress fitted her well, and so would not impede what she was about to do. Her skirt too had plenty of fabric in it, and so kicking would not be an issue.
He blinked at her. “You’re my cousin, not my father?”
“And you’re not paying attention,” Daphne said. She stomped the ground with her heeled shoe, causing her yin energy to drain out of her and into the world, then lifted her leg above her head. This body did not have much in the way of strength yet, but it was supple enough for her to execute this technique! “Ice Queen’s Kiss!”
Sharp shards of ice bloomed into existence in the air around her, and launched themselves at Blaise. His eyes widened at the secret technique of her Elegant Swan Sect.
Her cousin drew his bronze sword in haste, letting fire energy pour into it as he parried one icy dagger and tried to dodge the rest. He was not entirely hopeless, Daphne supposed, for a lesser cultivator would have been incapacitated in the face of her opening attack, though that a few shards here and there nicked at his clothes and drew shallow lines of red on his arms showed he had much to learn.
“You’re still not paying attention,” Daphne chided, already a half step away from him and well within face slapping distance. For while Blaise had spent all his attention on the icy projectiles, he had taken his eyes off of her completely. Such a mistake would be fatal if this were a real fight!
She’d drawn the dagger hidden within her sleeves already, and was thrusting it at him—only for her to stumble at the last second as earth energy flowed out of her cousin. A piece of stone jutted out of the formerly even floor in an unnatural bump, robbing her strike of any strength.
Quick thinking on Blaise’s part.
Still, her center mass was still moving towards him, so Daphne improvised, turning her forward motion into a perfect somersault, with her foot slamming down on her cousin’s head.
He groaned from the ground. “Yield! Yield!” He eyed her warily. “Who the hell taught you to fight like that?”
“Does it matter?” Daphne asked. “I won.”
“You’ll win one fight in the tournament, and no more if you stick to that style,” Blaise said. “Opening with a spell that flashy is always a gamble, and once your opponent knows you favor it, you won’t catch a second one off guard.”
Daphne shrugged. “Little is lost.”
“Little is lost?” Blaise repeated, disbelief soaking his every word. “Do you even have enough magic right now to heal a cut or extend the edge of your weapon? Spells like this look nice, but there’s a good reason we channel our magic through weapons when we can, and not attack with them directly.”
Daphne nodded. Though she had won, her cousin’s words were not untrue. She was feeling rather drained of qi, more than she had expected from an attack like she’d launched. She had to remember that her cultivation was not what it used to be, and so she could not be frivolous with her yin energy.
“You want to win this tournament, you’ll need to be planning not just for the next fight, but the one after that,” Blaise continued.
“Why the sudden interest in helping me?” Daphne asked.
“You’re still my cousin, and you’re still a Greenglade,” Blaise said, pushing himself off the ground and dusting himself off. With an exertion of will and a quick stomp of his feet, he flattened the arena once more. “If I can’t dissuade you, then the next best thing is to make sure you succeed. Also why do you scream your spells like that? You’re giving away your attack.”
“Does it matter if an ant knows where my fist will land?” Daphne asked. “It is their fate to be defeated, as it is mine to be victorious. The rest is to impress those watching.”
“Anyone who can recognize your spellcraft ought to be suitably impressed, or they’re not worth impressing,” Blaise said.
Perhaps there was some arrogance in this young master after all.
