Unintended Cultivator
Book 11: Chapter 29: Fighting Styles

There was a single second of tense silence, and then it began. The gross unfairness of the match became painfully obvious to Sen as the man in front of him charged in. A heartbeat or two later, Sen heard the person directly behind him rush forward. He parried a thrust from the man in front of him. Then, carefully judging from the sounds, his foot lashed down and back to send a chunk of hardened snow into the face of the person coming up from behind. He heard a startled cry from that direction and sidestepped. A woman started to stumble past him. He grabbed the back of her robes and redirected her into the path of the man who had come at him from the front. That forced the man to abandon the slash he’d aimed at Sen.

In that moment of confusion and stalled momentum, Sen turned abruptly to his left and raced at another man. He was probably the biggest of the group, and a shade slower than the rest. He made up for that deficit with control and tactics designed to keep opponents far enough away to negate their speed advantage. Unfortunately, he hadn’t expected a sudden rush from his opponent. He recovered fast enough to set himself and slash at Sen, but it was pointless. Sen had seen the stance change and recognized what it meant. He’d staggered his speed just enough that the tip of the spear missed him by about the width of three hairs. Sen surged past the big man and drove the butt of his own spear back. There was a dull thud as wood met bone. One of the big man’s arms went limp as he stumbled forward. Sen whirled around and gently touched the spearhead to the man’s neck.

“You’re done,” he announced.

Sen bent his knees slightly and dove over a low slash that would have taken off a mortal’s foot at the ankle. It was a smart move. He hadn’t specified where they had to hit him, just that they had hit him somewhere. He tucked, rolled over his own spear, and came up to his feet, still moving. He darted away from where the first attacker and two others had gathered, and headed toward the only person standing by themselves. The woman looked grim, but she didn’t panic. There was what would have looked like a short, furious exchange of thrusts, slashes, and parries.

It all seemed to be happening very, very slowly to Sen. It was hard to force himself to remain at mortal speeds and strength, but those were the rules he had set. It would be cheap and petty to go back on them. He could hear the others closing the distance. Still, even at mortal strength, he had a huge advantage over the woman. He leaned his head just enough to avoid a thrust. Then, he released his own spear with one hand and grabbed her spear. He made sure to grab it in the bare space between her hands.

His limited strength wasn’t quite enough to just rip it away from her grasp. At least, he didn’t think it was. Fortunately, that wasn’t his goal. The smart thing for her to do at the moment would have been to release her weapon, but very few warriors would willingly do something like that. It put you at too much of a disadvantage against an armed opponent. Like most people would have done, she gripped the weapon harder to try to keep control of it. That reflex, combined with the strength he’d allowed himself, was more than enough to haul the woman around. She sprawled onto the snowy ground right in front of the three who were rushing up to aid her.

This turn of events did disappoint him. They had let him seize the momentum, which let him largely set the terms of the battle. It would have been a cold thing to do in a real fight, but they should have held back and sacrificed the woman he’d just sent to the ground in this mock battle with no real stakes. That would have let them set a trap or at least forced him to come to them. That could have theoretically given them the advantage. By rushing in, they had to react to whatever he did. Like throwing someone in their way.

The first guy who had attacked him had the least opportunity to think through his response. He jumped over the woman. To his credit, the man did what he could to make the best of a bad decision. He tried to deliver an overhand slash that would have likely brained a mortal if it managed to connect. Even against a regular mortal, Sen doubted it would have ever reached its mark. The slash was hasty and poorly aimed. He stepped clear and lightly tapped the man’s chest with his own spearhead.

“Dead,” Sen announced in a nonchalant voice as the man landed, slipped, and fell flat on his back.

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With their numbers dwindling, the others started to lose their composure. Once that happened, the mistakes started piling up. Sen capitalized on those errors mercilessly, but he never strayed outside of the rules. That would have undermined the entire point of the exercise. He didn’t want to defeat them with overwhelming strength and speed. That would just humiliate them, and there was precious little learning to be done on the far side of humiliation. He wanted them to see what could lie in their own futures with sufficient dedication and training.

“It wasn’t great, but it could have been worse. For now, go rest by the braziers,” he commanded the first group. “We’ll discuss what went right and what went wrong after your peers see if they can do any better.”

The first group trudged away looking a bit crestfallen, but none wore expressions that suggested they’d had their pride shattered. That was good. Loss was part of learning on a warrior’s path. Everyone lost. Sen was sure that he’d lost hundreds, if not thousands, of spars to Master Feng, Uncle Kho, and even Auntie Caihong. It hadn’t been even a little bit fun, but he had gleaned a tremendous amount of insight from those losses. Sen shook off thoughts of his own training and fixed his gaze on the other group. Whatever excitement they’d felt at the beginning had been siphoned away by watching the first fight. They all wore looks of grim determination. I guess there are worse ways to enter a fight, thought Sen. He took his place at the center of the courtyard again.

“When you’re ready,” he told them.

This group seemed to have at least learned something. They didn’t try to encircle him. In fact, they didn’t approach him at all. Instead, they split into two groups of three. Each group had one person in front and two in back. They positioned themselves perhaps ten feet apart, and then they just waited. Sen had to put some effort into keeping his expression neutral, but this display made him happy. They had just seen that if they reacted to him, let him set the pace and hold the momentum, he would win through pure attrition. He’d keep moving and engaging until someone made a mistake. Then, he’d remove them. Repeat as necessary.

This tactic made him come to them. React to them. It also relied on several layers of reinforcement. If he engaged the person in front, the ones in back would have a free hand to attack him. If he somehow managed to put all three on the back foot, the other group could move in to support them. Sure, it left him free to roam around the courtyard all he wanted, but he’d always have to return to the place of their choosing if he wanted to fight. It wasn’t a dynamic strategy. There was no room for personal glory in it. It was also smart.

They knew he was superior with the spear, especially in one-on-one combat. So, they removed the one-on-one element entirely. It deprived him of a key advantage. That didn’t mean he was going to let them have the victory for free. They’d have to work for it. He closed the distance with one of the groups and engaged their lead fighter. He engaged one group, then the other, for the better part of half an hour. The part of Sen that liked to win was hugely frustrated by the defensive approach the two groups took. The part of him that was trying to teach them all something was proud of them. He was good enough to avoid taking a blow, but he was constantly stymied in his efforts to remove someone from the field. It was a stalemate.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t win. If he was willing to drag the fight out for an hour, they’d get tired. That tiredness would inevitably lead to mistakes. He, fueled by qi as he was, would never get tired. He could just wait them out. Again, though, that wasn’t the point of the fight. If he was going to restrain his strength and speed, he reasoned he should also put a limit on his endurance. If he were actually capable of getting tired in this kind of fight, he would also start making mistakes. Mistakes that might let them change tactics, become more aggressive, and get that blow on him. He took several obvious steps back.

“Enough,” he said.

The six fighters seemed to exhale a collective breath of relief. Sen lifted an eyebrow. Maybe they were more tired than they seemed, he mused. He considered the six of them before he made a decision.

“No one managed to land a blow, but I think that was an unreasonable goal to put in front of you. If I were a mortal and got tired the way you do, I expect that one of you would have managed it eventually. So, each of you grab one of the coins.”

There were grins from the quasi-victorious six as they walked over to the bench, while the six he’d defeated earlier let out soft groans of disappointment. He stepped away a bit to let them all talk with each other for a few minutes. He remembered wanting to share his excitement and disappointments when he was learning. Falling Leaf had filled that role for him, sort of, but she’d still been a big, silent cat at that point. She’d listened a lot, but that was about as far as it could go. These twelve had each other. He wanted them to celebrate and commiserate with each other. It should help to solidify them in a group. After about ten minutes, he walked back over to the group.

“Now, let’s talk about how things went,” announced Sen.