Tantra is doing the mind numbing task of acting as Synthia’s guard during one of her gatherings. What are they all saying? Some variation of condolences while Synthia cries her crocodile tears. Just yesterday the girl was planning and plotting, not a tear in sight, now in the face of polite company?
Here come the waterworks.
But that’s okay, Tantra can appreciate the hustle, even if it’s for political purposes rather than financial ones. There are a lot of reasons Synthia could be presenting herself as vulnerable to these sharks, none of which Tantra particularly cares for, most of which could end poorly if the woman doesn’t navigate the waters with the skill required.
But Synthia’s two things, a cold bitch and a smart bitch.
She knows what she’s doing.
When Tantra first accepted this job she was worried what the political factor entailed, turns out she just needs to act as she always did, except with the constant backdrop of her title to color every interaction.
At least for those willing to interact with her.
Of which are usually fools trying to find an avenue for Synthia’s hand, fools looking to ingratiate themselves in her favor, or the fools who are dangerous. Those Tantra tries to avoid like the plague, but to do so without causing offence can be difficult. Not that she really needs to care, she’s a cultivator, she could act like Ezra, lounging about on one of the tables taking a faux nap.
She never understood that, why advertise that you're not paying attention, is he trying to bait an assassin? Especially now, with all the tension over an impossible assassination. The Sentinel is going to every influential house and interrogating everyone, hoping to find at least who ordered the marquis’s death, but that’s been rather unsuccessful.
Maybe beyond Ralth?
Could be, but what do they stand to gain?
So many questions with no answers in sight.
Doesn’t matter to Tantra, she’s threading, while maintaining an expression of serene indifference.
She finds that the nobles consider it more nerve wracking than a scowl. She doesn’t really get why but she’s never been one to question good fortune, except when it comes to an actual fortune, then she traces it back to see if she can replicate it.
Ah, she hasn’t done that in such a long time, her income being quite straightforward in delivery, not needing to meditate on the market, shame that.
Other than threading she’s also trying something new.
Her gathering method, while more effective than the standard, still relies on her breathing to gather Qi.
So she’s been trying to pull Qi directly from her skin.
It’s had…varying success.
She can gather Qi through a point on her skin, the amount is just pitiful, the method surpassing what her will can handle, and compresses her soul to the point where she starts hearing whispers. As a general rule of thumb she stops there, even if she knows she could push it a little further.
She’s not in a hurry for strength so it’s best not to take unnecessary risks.
Other than that…she’s just watching the noble ladies quibble, which is, on rare occasions, entertaining, this is not one of those times.
Tantra has to hold in a groan as another noblewoman goes on a tangent about the marquis’s greatness.
-
The arena, one of Ralth’s greatest spectacles. Here all manner of folk, from commoners to nobles, gather to cheer on the tearing of limbs and spilling of guts. Funny that, in the end, what brings the different classes of people together is the prospect of violence, and oh, what violence there is to be had in this place. The multitude of healers stationed here combined with a cultivator's natural durability mean that the spectacle can reach a level of brutality only found on the battlefield.
Here cultivators bellow out their war cries and throw themselves at each other in duels or grand melees, competing for glory and honor or some such bullshit. Personally she thinks they do it for fame, not that she’s one to talk.
This is where her title became popular after all.
Before, her title was a name whispered only between nobility, among commoners it was a kind of folktale, and they didn’t really care much for it. Sure the murder of her brother caused ripples in all levels of society, but those whose lives are distant from all the grandeur and pomp have a tendency to relegate such things to a forgotten shelf in their minds, only to be recollected once it came time to share stories with the young ones.
Synthia was far from satisfied with that.
Tantra had to be known.
“Here comes another contestant! This one you're all familiar with, how could you not be with her beautiful displays?” A booming voice echoes throughout the arena, “Here she stands for your vicarious delight, this may be her home, but she is a herald of the Serpent’s Fang! A sect on the edge of the DarkWoods, where the only true solace to be found is death, she returned here with one purpose and one purpose only. Give it up for Tantra Kin-Killer!”
Tantra walks into the pit of sand to the frantic screams of the crowd, here a multitude of cultivators stand ready for the impending violence, more than a few giving her glares for her grandiose introduction. She’s never really gotten used to that, and doesn’t think she ever will, it’s just so…foreign to her to be excited for the spectacle of gore that’s about to occur.
Guess the need for blood surpases such mundane things as sanity.
Most cultivators don’t get introductions like hers, simply walking to the field as the announcer rattles off their name and sect. Some get whole minutes, and Tantra notes them for later, distinct in her desire to not get in their way.
She’s not the strongest here, not by a long shot, she could play it smart.
Or she could have some fun.
She can already tell that more than a few cultivators are eyeing her, which isn’t ideal but she can work with this, just has to make use of the chaos. She doesn’t really like the melee’s, sure with the duels there’s some fun to be had, but here you're liable to get a surprise dagger in your spine if you're not paying attention, cultivators not being above foul play in a free for all.
Finally, one hundred cultivators stand at the walls of a circular arena, all with their weapons manifested and ready for the coming chaos.
“Are you ready folks,” the announcer says to the cheers of so many supplicants, “THEN LET’S GET THIS PARTY STARTED.”
-
The announcement didn’t immediately lead to violence.
It never does, it starts with a kind of ritual, where all the cultivators eye each other, measuring opponents and creating silent alliances. Many mortals would balk at the idea of cultivators scheming, but their just as human as the rest of us. None of the participants wanted to pair with her, as per usual, which means she’s going to have to suffer through this alone.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Again.
Ah well,
She’s used to it.
Tantra doesn’t know who was the first to move, someone far to her right, starting a brawl of a dozen or so cultivators as the rest of the arena watches with rapt attention. The person to her right is watching a little too closely, seemingly distracted.
A bold mistake, but a mistake nonetheless.
Tantra sends a thread of Qi to her heart, boosting it just a little, and swings her club at a speed that belies the amount of Qi she used. She can hear the satisfying crunch of the woman's knee as she screams. Now, if there’s one thing cultivators hate, it would be someone who strikes the distracted, which makes it a wonderful way to gather opponents!
As if to answer her prayers, a guandao cuts through the air making its way to her neck.
Tantra sidesteps the blow, letting the blade dig into the sand, she lets out a smile as she prepares to strike back at the woman, but is interrupted when a chain whip wraps around her arm and pulls it taut, she grunts as she loses her opening and-
A blade, going to strike her throat, she can barely hear it, even with her enhanced senses, but it's there.
She does the only thing she can with the time she has and raises her free arm, letting the jian cut through muscle and sinew and dig into bone. Her arm screams with agony as Tantra grits her teeth and pushes more Qi into her heart, flexing her arm to trap the jian as she whips it out of the man's grasp, she manifests her bone jian she got back in Barakan and cuts at the man drawing a line of-
A spear runs her through the back and bursts through the other side, dangerously close to her heart. Tantra grits her teeth as she is overwhelmed by pain, she isn’t even given a chance to collect herself as the man twists and pulls out the weapon.
Fuck, she thinks, I need to get rid of this fucking chain.
She pours more Qi into her heart and the world expands, she’s inundated with the sounds of clashing metal and cheering supplicants, can feel her wounds much more intimately than before, can smell the blood and mingling mint, and can see every inch of the guandao arcing down to split her skull.
Tantra dashes out of the way, towards the chain wielder.
He seems surprised by her speed because he’s not prepared for her when she decapitates him with her blade.
His body disappears with a puff of smoke, sent off to the healers for them to do what their name entails. The healers here are miles ahead of those at her sect, able to reattach limbs and in this case, a head.
But she doesn’t have time to contemplate that.
She de-manifests her bone jian and dashes out of the way of a hammer as it crashes into the sand, sending grains flying through the air.
“Tantra!” A man bellows with mirth, “let’s fight!”
“Fuck you Korthal, I’m dealing with some shit right now.”
As though to emphasise her point a jian cuts into her shoulder, stopping at bone. She hisses and and hastily ducks as a hammer barrels its way towards her skull, missing her and crunching through mister jian in a way that makes Tantra wince with sympathy.
She’s been on the receiving end of that more than once.
“That’s okay!” Korthal laughs, “we can fuck them silly than beat each other to death after!”
“Sure,” Tantra compromises, “just watch where you're swinging.”
Korthal lets out a happy squeal that might have been cute if it didn’t come from a behemoth, Tantra lets a slight smirk plaster itself on her face as Korthal rushes towards miss guandao, she has no idea the pain she’s in for.
The sound of sandals scuffing sand recenters her to her current predicament, twisting out of the way of a spear and swinging her kanabō at his wrist, breaking it as the spear wielder lets out a grunt.
He doesn’t let go of the spear, instead slashing it across Tantra’s torso, letting a line of blood mark her as the jian wielder regains his bearings and charges back into the fray. Dealing with two is much easier than dealing with four, especially since these chumps don’t seem to be in possession of any techniques at least none that she can see.
Her club comes down in an overhead that jian dodges, whipping out his blade to mark her arm again. Tantra sidesteps a spear thrust and swings for jian again, this time infusing the Qi in her blood with motion.
They still manage to dodge.
Tantra grits her teeth as she dashes away before the spear can run her through, creating distance to collect her thoughts. The arena is still filled with cultivators, but at least half have been sent to the healers by this point, and it’s been perhaps a minute. That’s just the way it is, cultivators can move fast so despite their durability the fights tend to end fast too, especially in the lower tiers that Tantra’s fighting in.
That’s okay, the arena goers still have plenty of free for alls, duels, and beasts to delight in before the day is over. Plenty of blood to go around, and she’s taking too long spilling hers. Emphasised by the axe that splits her skull before she can even react.
What?
Tantra’s vision goes strange, colors melding with sound melding with smells melding with everything. Something is dislodged from her skull, and all her senses scream at her as another thing of danger comes for her head.
She blinks at the spearpoint as it slowly makes its way for her eye.
Hmmm…spears.
Pointy things, Kisrin likes them, and Kisrin’s a pretty cool dude.
Generally a bad idea to let it go through your eye.
Tantra pushes the most Qi into her heart and the world stops. Well, not really, but it might as well from her perspective. You see, enhancing your senses to the degree Tantra just did doesn’t really slow down anything, but it enhances reaction time, processing power, and instinct to a degree where the difference doesn't really matter.
Funny, normally so much information would break her concentration.
The harmony between senses seems to be softening the blow.
She should jot that down for later.
After she shits on these fools.
It isn’t an instant, it is less than an instant, and the spear wielder's head pops like a melon, ah melons, she could go for some of those right now. Very juicy, very delicious and somewhat nutritious? She doesn’t know, not something she studied, but it sounds right.
Or does it.
Hmmmm…later, she’ll think about that later.
She’ll think? Is she thinking? She thinks she’s thinking, would be weird if she wasn’t with all the noise in her head, or is that the arena? Probably the arena, but that’s okay, she knows just how to reduce the noise!
Her kanabō crashes into mister jian’s torso, and Tantra can hear the squelch as ribs pierce through his heart, he disappears of course, can’t let him die! Not a very good business model to let your main attractions actually die, and Tantra knows all about business.
Like the current unfinished business she has with Miss Axe lady.
“You fucked up my head,” Tantra slurs, “that’s rude.”
Miss Axe just stares dumbfounded as mist from both her little allies flies to the sky, the look on her face is pretty funny, so Tantra can’t help but giggle.
“How?” The woman says, “how did you do that?”
“Oh you know,” Tantra replies, “just a technique, I'm pushing Qi into my heart! Well, that’s not everything but you're rude so you don’t get to know, anyway, I’m gonna pop your head now, okay?”
The woman raises her shield, fully on guard-
Tantra is behind her and does exactly what she said she would do.
Damn all this blood is fucking with her vibe.
Tantra looks around, Korath seems to be done with his opponent, and is smiling wide at Tantra, Tantra smiles back and rushes the man.
-
“That was idiotic,” Synthia chides, “we agreed you wouldn’t do anything dramatic!”
“Hey, I got an axe to the brain, I wasn’t exactly thinking straight,”
“One wonders if you were thinking at all,”
“Funny that’s actually one of the-”
“I don’t care.”
Tantra chuckles, “c’mon, don’t be like that, all the nobles will shit their pants when they see me now!”
“Not when you get your ass handed to you in the higher brackets,” Ezra says, “I assume you can’t maintain that kind of boosting when you're thinking straight?”
Tantra scratches her cheek, “no, not really, too much sensory information, and the second I let go I’ll be sent straight to the healers.”
Ezra nods, “So we’re going to have to work on that if we want you to stand any chance next time around.”
Tantra sighs, “okay, but it’s going to take a while.”
Synthia shrugs, “We can postpone your next showing for a few months.”
Both Ezra and Tantra give Synthia incredulous looks.
“What?”
“Sometimes I forget you know nothing about cultivation,” Tantra muses, “if it only took a few months for me to be capable of the display we just witnessed on command, then immortals would be capable of leveling countries.”
“Well, excuse me,” Synthia says, “I’m busy trying to manage important things, like navigating my fathers death.”
“Fair,” Tantra shrugs, “but you’ve had years to get some understanding of how cultivation works.”
“I don’t care for it,”
“I’m sure,” Tantra rolls her eyes.
