A Daily Life of a Fire Dragon

11.Training grounds

(about six thousand years ago)

Shi Lang sits on the sidelines of the army camp’s training grounds. The soldiers are dutifully continuing with their routine even when they have hardly anything to eat. He has to admire their persistence and unwavering loyalty. General Shang is currently holed up with his advisors, so that means that Shi Lang is bored. He can’t really intrude on their meeting with no reason. Even though he knows the landscape and all its secrets. But, he can help them if they ask. In truth, there is just one person he would do it for. If General Shang asks for his help, then he would do it. But, his lover hasn’t said anything to him.

Sitting here is slightly more entertaining than being home alone. The men here are trained well, so watching them is not a bad thing. The only problem is their food supply that was cut off. Maybe he should tip General Shang off on the possible alternative routes? He sees Shang Yi on the opposite side of the training grounds. When did he come here? Is the meeting over? Maybe not, because he’s alone. The other advisers would have come too if anything was decided. Was he kicked out by his brother, or did he run out on his own? This kid has good ideas and he thinks ahead. It’s just his temperament which ruins things for him. He has to learn when to speak and when to wisely stay quiet. He might think he’s invincible, but there is always someone better. He just hasn’t met that someone, yet.

“Shi Lang!” Shang Yi shouts. “What are you doing here? Spying on our soldiers? Are you trying to gauge our weaknesses?”

“No. I’m just bored with nothing to do,” Shi Lang shrugs.

“I really don’t like you!” Shang Yi growls when he comes closer. “I will figure out why you are here. I will expose you.”

“Or, you can just ask me. I don’t have the habit of lying,” he smirks. The kid is interesting. Maybe he can bait him to a fight?

“You know? The only interest my brother has in you is your pretty face?” Shang Yi scoffs. “I always told him that one day a pretty young boy will be his ruin.”

“Oh?” Shi Lang chuckles. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Don’t twist my words!” Shang Yi shouts angrily. “Why did you come with my brother? Where did you meet him? What is your relationship with him?”

“Finally some real questions,” he sighs. Should he answer them, though? There is always the possibility that the younger Shang brother might misunderstand his intentions.

“You don’t want to answer? What are you up to? Are you here to sabotage our efforts?” Shang Yi continues. He really doesn’t trust anyone, does he?

“I have one condition for you, then I will answer any question you might have,” Shi Lang says. He finally has a half decent chance to test his fighting skills.

“You think you are in a position to set conditions?” Shang Yi laughs. “Haven’t you noticed it's just you on one side, and me and my men on the other?”

“Do not drag your men into this. They have nothing to do with this,” Shi Lang shakes his head. “It’s a simple thing, really. Defeat me in one on one combat, and I will answer any question you have.”

“Defeat you? Were you ever in a fight? What are you? All of seventeen?” Shang Yi laughs. By now, everyone on the training grounds is staring at them.

“Give it a try and see,” Shi Lang tilts his head to the side. He makes his sword appear to show Shang Yi that he means it.

The sword is a work of art. He is very proud of this achievement. It took him thirty years to complete the sword, and he was living at the side of an active volcano at that time. Working with a metal that he found on site, forged it in volcanic fire, and cured it with volcanic acid. It is slender, and light. Slightly curved, and sharp on both sides. The ruby on the end of the hilt is worth a fortune. That alone could fund a small army for a few months. The dragon etched into the sword is his own mark. He puts it on everything. His spear and shield also have it. And it’s the same as his jade pendant.

“Did you just pull your sword out of one of your sleeve pockets?” Shang Yi sputters.

“No,” Shi Lang chuckles. “I told you the conditions for answering your questions. Are you doing it?”

“Clear the grounds!” Shang Yi orders, loudly. The soldiers all scurry to the side, but none leave. They are curious to see what is going on. Shang Yi jumps from the podium and beckons to Shi Lang to join him. He takes his sweet time to casually walk down the stairs. His robes flutter around him with a slight breeze. He knows it makes him look superior the way he acts, but the younger Shang doesn’t know him yet. It’s not an act, it’s just who he is.

Shi Lang stops at the wooden border of the arena. It is just a narrow and low plank set on the ground. It’s design is simple, but anyone can guess what it means. Falling out of this area means defeat. Unless someone surrenders beforehand. His curiosity is running high. Which way will this fight go? He is confident that he won’t lose. It’s just a matter of time he’s willing to spend. Would a fast victory mean humiliation to his opponent? Or would dragging it out be more humiliating? He can just leave it to chance. Bowing slightly to Shang Yi, he steps into the arena.

The young hothead charges at him right away. Shi Lang estimated this to happen. He doesn’t move from his spot. He can defeat his opponent with only defensive moves. Thousands of years of training his skills has honed his body to be a killing machine. He has to remind himself not to actually kill this boy. He raises his right hand to block the blow with his sword. No matter what move Shang Yi makes, he is ready to block it. Twirling his sword around himself without moving his feet from the spot. At one point he bends backwards, only to come up with his sword narrowly missing Shang Yi’s knees.

A half smile forms on his face when the boy jumps back. This kid had a very decent master growing up, but his skills are lacking. His moves are hurried and not complete. He will hurt his wrist if he keeps it up long term. Another attack comes his way, and he blocks it. Shang Yi takes a few steps to come at him from another side. His footwork is fast. Almost perfect. If he can bring his swordplay up to the same level, he might stand a chance to win. Maybe. Shi Lang has yet to move his feet from the spot. He lazily blocks a few more tries, before he drops his sword to his left hand and presses it to Shang Yi’s neck. Playtime is over.

“Surrender,” Shi Lang says quietly.

“When did you switch hands?” Shang Yi glares at him over the glim of the sword.

“On the last move,” Shi Lang starts to explain: “I was only using defence moves against you. When you came at me from the right, I blocked the blow from up high. Then I dropped the sword to my left hand to bring it up over your shoulder. It wouldn’t work if you held a shield. Or, if you anticipated my move and brought your arm up to block it with your wrist guard.”

“I admit you are good. No one in this camp can defeat me, not even my brother,” Shang Yi bows when Shi Lang removes his sword.

“I told you when we first met that you can come to me for training. You can get better. The basis of your moves is good, but you halt them before they are complete. You hurry too much with your attacks. Speed is your friend, but it can cost you a lot if you don’t complete the moves correctly,” Shi Lang tells him. He steps away to demonstrate the moves Shang Yi has made. Bringing his own sword around in a hurried manner. He can feel the boy’s eyes on him. He is watching with interest.

“I don’t see anything wrong. I did it exactly the way you have,” Shang Yi frowns.

“Watch again. I will show you how you should have done it,” Shi Lang says.

He repeats the moves with grace, and it looks like a dance of sword and robes. He finishes each strike with swift execution, the sword travelling just a few inches further than before, but it looks completely different. Shi Lang comes to a stop with his sword almost touching Shang Yi’s neck. The boy was so immersed into watching him, that he didn’t even step away. A shiver runs down his body when he realises that he dropped his guard. Shi Lang slowly removes his sword and takes a step back.

“Did you see the difference? It doesn’t take more time to complete the moves,” Shi Lang says. “But, it makes all the difference to your posture.”

“Who trained you?” Shang Yi whispers. There is new found respect shining in his eyes.

“Some of the best cultivators in the world. My martial arts are a mix of everything I learned over the years. I can show you more, if you want,” Shi Lang answers. “Meet me here tomorrow morning.”