49th of Season of Air, 59th year of the 32nd cycle

  Newt’s flags buried themselves into the soft, squishy ground yet again.

  “This is so annoying,” Newt mouthed the words, but did not vocalize them.

  He had two choices, stand in the middle of a small clearing, or head for the nearby bushes from which he could ambush any would-be attackers. He chose neither. Newt left the flags where they were, but walked around, searching for any possible treasures, like the ones promised in the previous trial.

  He found a tree hollow big enough to fit a child, but wretchedly void of spiritual equipment. Then he saw a quadruped saurian, taller than a man, making its way through the jungle, its tongue flicking and tasting the air.

  The folded sail at its back declared it a sphenacodontidae. Newt guessed it was an evolved form of dimetrodon, one with an unusual fighting style, if its water attributed spiritual energy was any indication of its abilities. Newt paused, then focused once more on his third eye. Checking the spirit beast one more time.

  No. It’s definitely in the fourth realm, a middling layer. Why is that in a third-realmers’ challenge?

  Newt stared at the dinosaur in confusion, searching for any signs of it being an illusion deployed by a Diamond Talisman’s disciple, but the creature was approaching him, walking well outside an illusion spell formation’s range.

  A twenty-five flag floated just above the dimetrodon’s nape, accompanied by four smaller ones, one belonging to the dinosaur faction, and three to assorted sects whose colors Newt did not recognize.

  Given its direction, the dimetrodon would pass some twenty feet to Newt’s left, and Newt shifted back behind the trunk. Once the spirit beast passed him, he would strike from its flank. Patiently, he waited for the monster to confidently stride past him. The slavering tongue flicked through the air, sending a shower of droplets, when suddenly three massive javelins of ice formed from thin air and shot towards Newt’s chest.

  Granite Crust sprang into being, and the heavy icicles exploded on impact, sending Newt staggering a step back. The dimetrodon turned and surged towards him. The beast had obviously spotted Newt a while ago and played oblivious to entrap him. Its eyes shone with uncanny intelligence, as a pair of icy horns manifested onto its head before lancing towards Newt.

  He dodged one, swatting the other with his glaive. The force of the blow was massive, but it lacked the advantage of surprise, and Newt’s body was powerful enough to resist the recoil. He was ready to stab the dimetrodon the moment it tried to close its jaws around his body, but the giant lizard swerved to the side, avoiding a frontal clash. Unfazed by its failure, the spirit beast shot another three icicles at Newt.

  The youth dodged one, but another struck him on the shoulder, while the third slammed against his temple, making the world spin. Newt staggered, but instead of pressing the advantage, the surprisingly nimble dimetrodon pelted him with an iceberg’s worth of missiles, staying outside Newt’s reach.

  Unlike the single-minded illusions from the fortress defense trial, the dimetrodon was intelligent, able to deduce that Newt posed a serious threat, and reacted accordingly.

  Newt endured the onslaught, the icicles replaced by heavier blocks of ice, but in a matter of moments it became apparent he could not maintain the situation. The dimetrodon was a genuine fourth realm spirit beast with a pool of spiritual energy far vaster than his.

  Making a snap decision, Newt charged towards the dinosaur. The spray of ice shards stopped as Newt batted away the last incoming projectile, and chased after the fleeing dimetrodon.

  The beast was fast, but bulky, and the forest terrain worked against it. Newt caught up with it in a matter of moments, bringing his glaive down against its back. A spiked shell of ice materialized to protect it, but the high-realm weapon smashed right through it, cleaving the back-sail and slashing into the creature’s flash.

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  It let out a hiss-like grunt, slowing down as its hind legs went limp. In its despair, dimetrodon’s instincts took over. The monster twisted, snapping its jaws at Newt, who kicked a bolt of flame into its face while yanking the glaive from the dimetrodon’s back.

  The dimetrodon, used to taking damage and regenerating it later, ignored the fire scalding its head and chomped down at Newt’s chest. Granite Crust creaked, its outer layer dissolving into spiritual energy, but the second one held as the glaive’s head sank into the dimetrodon’s neck.

  The creature’s jaw went slack in panic, and the mistake killed it. With enough purchase, Newt pushed the glaive down, severing the spine and unleashing a torrent of blood as the dimetrodon tried to heal itself. Newt hacked at it for a dozen seconds more while the creature healed its injured neck. Finally it fell lifelessly, its healing ability unable to keep up with the damage Newt was dealing.

  A moment later, the monster disappeared, leaving behind its flags. Newt collected them, his heart racing, and his point total soared to fifty-seven.

  ***

  “And thus ends the Saga of Bigfang and the most savage duel I have seen in a long while!” Sleek’s voice kept grating at Woodhopper’s ear, as her heart raced almost as much as Newstar’s.

  “Newstar punched up a realm, and boy did he smash it! I’m certain we can all agree that the venerable behind this event had planned that dimetrodon as a roaming disaster to eliminate unwary disciples, not as an opponent one should fight head on. But the dimetrodon doesn’t seem to be the end of Newstar’s troubles, quite the opposite. Dandelion, who has already eliminated a pair of Sword Abode’s disciples and gathered twenty-three flags is pursued by three Fiery Glory disciples.”

  Woodhopper focused her attention on the screens the annoying broadcaster mentioned and scowled. He was correct. Dandelion was not leading the group straight at Newstar, but if Newt kept maintained his direction, they would run into each other.

  “Make that two Fiery Glory disciples,” Sleek droned on as one of the pursuing disciples abruptly stopped, looking at her now grounded flag. The golden-haired woman looked at the flag, then at her fellow sect members, and raced after them. Woodhopper agreed with the decision, nobody could steal the flags while they were rooted, and she could simply return and collect her flags later, assuming Fiery Glory defeated Dandelion.

  Finally, the two pursuing disciples caught up with Dandelion and entangled him in a melee. Dandelion greeted them with a pair of frozen darts, and Woodhopper tuned out Sleek’s fake, overly excited shouting, focusing on the battle.

  The Fiery Glory disciples smashed the ice with their swords and lunged at Dandelion, who parried one attack with his staff, pushing one attacker to block the other. The black staff flashed, striking the closer disciple on the shoulder, a wave of retaliatory flames washing over Dandelion.

  His shield blocked most of the damage, but his skin still reddened from the burns. A layer of water covered his forearm, healing the damage even as he fought. Dandelion’s aberrant ability to manipulate all four elements was already widely known, but Woodhopper still stared in disbelief at how he weaved them together.

  Earthen defense covered only portions of his body, staying clear of joints, to allow maximum mobility. She even caught clues of air-attributed spiritual energy enhancing his moves. Dandelion’s aggressive style kept his opponents on edge, but they fanned out and flanked him, making the battle precarious.

  He blocked a slash and slammed his earth-encrusted foot into the other disciple’s chest, sending him flying. He was about to finish off the disciple still standing, when their third teammate appeared, and stabbed Dandelion in the back.

  Dandelion whirled around like a dancer, blocking the sword, but the prone disciple charged back into the fray. A sword flashed, but Dandelion ducked under it, then rolled under another stab, the third attack slashing the gap in his defenses beneath the left armpit.

  Another bubble of water appeared, stopping the bleeding as Dandelion danced, defending without an ability to attack. However, if things remained the same, he would last a long while, and others could take advantage of the situation.

  The leader of the attackers seemed to realize that, and the group unleashed a barrage of fiery techniques at him.

  In the corner of her eye, Woodhopper caught the sect master smirk.

  “He’s faking, again.” The sect master’s words echoed in her mind. “You have seen him fight on the first day, he had more than enough time to eliminate an opponent after he kicked the other one away, but he allowed them to regroup.”

  Woodhopper watched the battle more closely. To mortals it would have looked like a cluster of continuous explosions, but her eye easily made out the details of attacks and desperate blocks, and she saw the sect master was right. Nobody could make that many desperate blocks.

  Just as things were about to grow too suspicious, Dandelion faltered and vanished, leaving three panting grand sect disciples.

  The young woman nodded, and ran back to her flag, while the lead disciple gathered Dandelion’s flags, upping his total to forty while his teammate had seventeen. The pair were taking a moment to collect themselves when Newt walked into the clearing.