The Blue Mountain (The Forbidden List Book 2) Read Free

and Haung felt the breath explode from his lungs as he flew backwards.
    He landed on his back but let the force of the kick roll him over. Gathering his legs beneath him, he sprang back up to his feet, sweeping his sword round in a large circle, clearing the space around him. Haung resisted the urge to rub his bruised ribs. Instead he raced forward, Jian sword spinning circles to either side, picking up dust and small pebbles from the ground, flinging them towards the old man. As he closed in, he leapt, sword extended before him.
    The old warrior merely leant a little to one side and Haung’s sword passed him by. In retaliation, Haung took a punch to his solar plexus. He staggered past the old man and collapsed to his knees, attempting to catch his breath. Keeping some semblance of self-preservation, he let himself fall to the ground and rolled away, hoping to dodge the sword that he was sure was stabbing down at him.
    “Is this the best of the Jiin-Wei ?” The old man spat the question at him.
    Haung levered himself back to his feet and took another stance, a defensive one. “You haven’t beaten me yet.”
    “You think so?” The old man began running towards him, sword leading the way.
    Haung dipped his free hand into his belt pouch, pulled out a slip of paper which he threw into the air and shouted the word written upon it. The bolt of energy shot towards the old swordsman. Haung followed the bolt with another leap forward, his own sword reaching out and seeking the swordsman’s flesh.
    As he lunged, his eyes widened in shock as the old man, mid-step, twisted and turned, rolling underneath the energy bolt, and then sprung up and over Haung’s extended sword. Over Haung, in fact, who could do nothing to stop his forward motion. The old man’s foot caught the back of Haung’s head in a powerful kick which drove the younger man to the floor. Haung rolled again, tasting blood in mouth. There was a pounding pain in his head. Turning to face the old man, he raised his sword again.
    “Well,” the old man smiled a nasty, knowing, smile, “if we are cheating.” Throwing his sword high into the air, spinning end over end, the man put both wrists together, palms facing outwards the man shouted and pushed his hands forward.
    The force that hit Haung, picked him up and threw him across the tiled floor. His sword flew from his grasp to clatter on the stones. He bounced once, twice and fetched up against a stone wall. Through bleary eyes he saw the old man catch his falling sword and stalk forward, stopping on the way to pick up Haung’s sword. Haung tried to force himself upright, using the wall as a brace. He collapsed back, his legs and arms trembling with fatigue.
    “Your magic tricks are nice, but the whole paper and shout are a bit of a giveaway.” The old man knelt down in front of Haung and offered him his sword back. “You rely on them too much to get you out of trouble.”
    “Shifu, I can’t beat you without them,” Haung gasped.
    “Haung, you can’t beat me with them.” The old man shook his head. “Put the tricks to one side for a while. They might have their place, but you need to rely on your own skill first and foremost.”
    “You used magic too,” Haung accused him.
    “There are three forces in this world that you need to understand. The first is your Fang-Shi trained magic. It has its uses, but a trained opponent will have a counter in place, and it drains you of energy. Not much, I grant, but all that energy you have caught up and stored in those bits of paper is energy you can’t use in a fight. It also knocks your meridians out of balance.” Shifu slid his sword into its scabbard.
    “The second is the spirit. You have met a Wu or two, I understand. There are not as many as there used to be, according to the records. But they draw their energy from the spirit plane and share characteristics of their animal bonding. If you know the animal, you have an advantage. For most, to fight a Wu is