The Dark Horse
An omake not about Fan Yu, for a change...
This time, it is focused on a largely forgotten and never much liked character, with my interpretation of her, for what it is worth. I seem to have a weak spot for all those non fan-favorites.
The Dark Horse:
A slight dark-haired girl, slowly approaching the cusp of womanhood, panted slowly as she leaned on a massive steel warhammer, exhausted by her daily practice with one of her clan's traditional weapons. Her sombre and sensible working clothes, nevertheless of expert make and quality as expected for a noble's attire, were irrevocably stained by her efforts, mud and sweat clinging to them stubbornly.
She carefully considered her fearsome weapon. She was not fully used to it, yet, as she had always felt more comfortable using the easier-to-wield guai she had practiced with since she was little. However, her trusty guai were entirely insufficient in the domain of reach, and so she adapted. She experimented, and finally decided to pick up one of the hammers that her father and uncles favored.
Wielding such a large weapon had been unfamiliar to her beyond the basics, which was utterly unacceptable, so she fanatically strived to change that, day by day, each painful exercise by exercise, in order to unlock the full potential it offered in battle.
The warhammer in question was a grand-looking steel monstrosity with a silvery sheen, forged with the aid of one of her Family's spirits and imbued with a core of a terrifying mountain beast, its head almost completely covered in serrated edges. Its sheer mass was such that it should have taken two fully grown male adults, used to harsh physical labor, to even lift it, let alone to meaningfully wield it.
Of course, two mortal fully-grown male adults.
And she was anything but mortal.
The slim girl noisily exhaled as she straightened her back, shaking her head free of her musings and picked up the warhammer once more with just her right hand, swinging it idly in a lazy circle, a feat of strength impressive even for a silver physique cultivator such as her, as she put her mind to the next step of her training.
With a slight frown, she opened her empty left-hand gently, fingers slightly bent and pressed together, almost as if to hold something delicate in it.
'Breathe in. Breathe out.'
Slowly, patiently, she gathered her qi in the palm of her left hand, with the look of absolute concentration etching itself on her face, making her brows furrow heavily and her jaw tighten, her mouth arranged into the faintest unconscious pout, painting an image which some would call cute or even pretty.
If any dared to do so to her face, anyway.
The young lady in question would have considered such compliments mocking in any case. She was a proud descendent of mountain crushers and demon slayers, not some delicate flower that needed to be sheltered and pampered, her meagre cultivation just a decoration like everything else about her.
Bit by bit, the qi she gathered patiently in her hand started swirling steadily, almost like a heartbeat of some vast arcane mechanism, the energy in it seeming to possess a strange form of a life of its own, and in its unchanging inexorable spinning, if one bothered to listen very closely, could be heard the rumbling of avalanches, screeching of distant winds and dissonant clanking of dozen different metals.
Her eyes narrowed, the normally composed girl gnashed her teeth due to sheer effort involved, as the qi slowly stopped swirling and started growing and solidifying in a large, bright grey orb, hovering above her hand, its resemblance reminding the girl of nothing more than an overly large leaden sling-bullet.
With a mighty heave, the young cultivator threw the shining orb far away, aiming at the distant rock formations, its flight largely unremarkable and oddly silent.
That is, until the grey orb impacted the massive boulder resting a little apart from the others, and the gargantuan, moss-covered boulder promptly falling apart from within, its vast mass almost disappearing, leaving only a vast collection of small, jagged pieces hanging in the air for a split second before promptly scattering explosively in a vast shockwave, slashing and rending everything around them in a perfect circle of a fifty meters.
"It still takes too long!" muttered the dark-haired noble angrily to herself, striking the ground at her feet with the silvery warhammer due to a lapse in her ordinarily iron control of her emotions, the weapon's head buried deeply in the soil from the sheer force created by the frustration of its wielder.
"Shatter-shot" as her paternal uncle called it, or rather the beginning technique of her Family's signature set of Arts, "Primordial Hammer of the Mountain's End", was a ranged qi projectile designed to affect a large area, combining several different effects in order to not only shatter the armored target of choice, hence its nickname by her uncle, but to damage and hopefully destroy anything in its vicinity. Useful for slippery and nimble foes, difficult to pin down.
Of course, useful if she ever managed to shorten its invocation to the necessary timeframe of a moment or two.
'I need to do better. Be better.' thought Hong Lin sourly as she slumped tiredly by her weapon, flicking idly one of her pale red bangs. Other than her mother and elder bother, nobody dared to call them pink in her presence.
'My hair is getting longer. I will have to start arranging it differently.' the noble from the imperial heartlands let herself ponder the odd idle thought, as she prepared to enter the meditative trance once more, third time this day.
Her time was running out. The Tournament was in just twelve weeks, and she was still not strong enough for it and the opponents awaiting her there.
She barely slept or ate, her social activities were all dedicated to furthering her cultivation, her deep anger, hurt and hatred providing ample fuel for the otherwise hellish pace she set for herself.
She had even begged, cajoled and even promised favors owed to various cousins for any pointers about arts they would offer and asked her elders for any additional resources and weapons that she could, which they grudgingly and miserly gave, as was their way.
She hunted, gathered and obsessively searched for trials and hidden treasure troves of the Sect, trading her spoils for sect points, exotic pills, unusual talismans and formations.
She swallowed her pride and requested tutoring from the Inner Sect students, looking for any edge that she could, even beyond those of her Family's potent arts.
For despite all of this, she was still running out of time.
All her efforts, and she had only just recently arrived to the latter stages of Yellow, with the very peak of Silver stage reached just the day before. It wasn't enough. Nothing other than Green and Bronze would suffice, could suffice.
Not with the enemies standing in her way.
The Tournament was the last chance for her plans, and her vengeance, to come to fruition.
'No. The Tournament is my only chance.'
Her enemies and her despicable fiancée were under the protection of the formidable Cai Renxiang and her faction, who was entirely too powerful and influential to ignore.
'That wretch Huang Da had chosen his allies well.'
The thoughts of her fiancee made her blood boil. Her hurt and sorrow at his actions had long since turned to anger and disgust. Never the less, her hands were tied.
She could not afford to antagonize what was essentially the ruler of the Outer Sect nor would any overt actions against Huang Da be looked upon kindly by her clan in any case, and as such, Hong Lin had to wait for the tournament, for the opportunity and the justification it would bring, to regain honor taken from her.
To punish Huang Da for his despicable behaviour. To put the gutter rat, Ling Qi, and all the other of Da's little fallow strumpets in their place. To prove her mettle to the Sect and to her Family by smiting all the challengers before her, and to forge her destiny.
She had been indolent in her efforts the first few months in the sect, and she had paid the dire price. Those lesser than her had used that opportunity to catch up with her.
Only in her darkest moments would she confront her terrible fear that they had maybe completely surpassed her, with no hope of catching up.
She refused to give in to despair. She would not accept notion of mediocrity gently and bow down meekly to faith. She would give her all, and she would succeed.
She would grow stronger and faster. She would advance further in her cultivation than anyone expected. She would refine her family arts. She would prepare her counters and cover her weaknesses. And they would never see her coming.
No matter, the pain, the sweat or the tears needed, Hong Lin will grow strong, and she will crush those in her way under her heel.
Her future demanded it.
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@yrsillar My humble contribution to the quest playerbase, to pass the time.
This time, it is focused on a largely forgotten and never much liked character, with my interpretation of her, for what it is worth. I seem to have a weak spot for all those non fan-favorites.
The Dark Horse:
A slight dark-haired girl, slowly approaching the cusp of womanhood, panted slowly as she leaned on a massive steel warhammer, exhausted by her daily practice with one of her clan's traditional weapons. Her sombre and sensible working clothes, nevertheless of expert make and quality as expected for a noble's attire, were irrevocably stained by her efforts, mud and sweat clinging to them stubbornly.
She carefully considered her fearsome weapon. She was not fully used to it, yet, as she had always felt more comfortable using the easier-to-wield guai she had practiced with since she was little. However, her trusty guai were entirely insufficient in the domain of reach, and so she adapted. She experimented, and finally decided to pick up one of the hammers that her father and uncles favored.
Wielding such a large weapon had been unfamiliar to her beyond the basics, which was utterly unacceptable, so she fanatically strived to change that, day by day, each painful exercise by exercise, in order to unlock the full potential it offered in battle.
The warhammer in question was a grand-looking steel monstrosity with a silvery sheen, forged with the aid of one of her Family's spirits and imbued with a core of a terrifying mountain beast, its head almost completely covered in serrated edges. Its sheer mass was such that it should have taken two fully grown male adults, used to harsh physical labor, to even lift it, let alone to meaningfully wield it.
Of course, two mortal fully-grown male adults.
And she was anything but mortal.
The slim girl noisily exhaled as she straightened her back, shaking her head free of her musings and picked up the warhammer once more with just her right hand, swinging it idly in a lazy circle, a feat of strength impressive even for a silver physique cultivator such as her, as she put her mind to the next step of her training.
With a slight frown, she opened her empty left-hand gently, fingers slightly bent and pressed together, almost as if to hold something delicate in it.
'Breathe in. Breathe out.'
Slowly, patiently, she gathered her qi in the palm of her left hand, with the look of absolute concentration etching itself on her face, making her brows furrow heavily and her jaw tighten, her mouth arranged into the faintest unconscious pout, painting an image which some would call cute or even pretty.
If any dared to do so to her face, anyway.
The young lady in question would have considered such compliments mocking in any case. She was a proud descendent of mountain crushers and demon slayers, not some delicate flower that needed to be sheltered and pampered, her meagre cultivation just a decoration like everything else about her.
Bit by bit, the qi she gathered patiently in her hand started swirling steadily, almost like a heartbeat of some vast arcane mechanism, the energy in it seeming to possess a strange form of a life of its own, and in its unchanging inexorable spinning, if one bothered to listen very closely, could be heard the rumbling of avalanches, screeching of distant winds and dissonant clanking of dozen different metals.
Her eyes narrowed, the normally composed girl gnashed her teeth due to sheer effort involved, as the qi slowly stopped swirling and started growing and solidifying in a large, bright grey orb, hovering above her hand, its resemblance reminding the girl of nothing more than an overly large leaden sling-bullet.
With a mighty heave, the young cultivator threw the shining orb far away, aiming at the distant rock formations, its flight largely unremarkable and oddly silent.
That is, until the grey orb impacted the massive boulder resting a little apart from the others, and the gargantuan, moss-covered boulder promptly falling apart from within, its vast mass almost disappearing, leaving only a vast collection of small, jagged pieces hanging in the air for a split second before promptly scattering explosively in a vast shockwave, slashing and rending everything around them in a perfect circle of a fifty meters.
"It still takes too long!" muttered the dark-haired noble angrily to herself, striking the ground at her feet with the silvery warhammer due to a lapse in her ordinarily iron control of her emotions, the weapon's head buried deeply in the soil from the sheer force created by the frustration of its wielder.
"Shatter-shot" as her paternal uncle called it, or rather the beginning technique of her Family's signature set of Arts, "Primordial Hammer of the Mountain's End", was a ranged qi projectile designed to affect a large area, combining several different effects in order to not only shatter the armored target of choice, hence its nickname by her uncle, but to damage and hopefully destroy anything in its vicinity. Useful for slippery and nimble foes, difficult to pin down.
Of course, useful if she ever managed to shorten its invocation to the necessary timeframe of a moment or two.
'I need to do better. Be better.' thought Hong Lin sourly as she slumped tiredly by her weapon, flicking idly one of her pale red bangs. Other than her mother and elder bother, nobody dared to call them pink in her presence.
'My hair is getting longer. I will have to start arranging it differently.' the noble from the imperial heartlands let herself ponder the odd idle thought, as she prepared to enter the meditative trance once more, third time this day.
Her time was running out. The Tournament was in just twelve weeks, and she was still not strong enough for it and the opponents awaiting her there.
She barely slept or ate, her social activities were all dedicated to furthering her cultivation, her deep anger, hurt and hatred providing ample fuel for the otherwise hellish pace she set for herself.
She had even begged, cajoled and even promised favors owed to various cousins for any pointers about arts they would offer and asked her elders for any additional resources and weapons that she could, which they grudgingly and miserly gave, as was their way.
She hunted, gathered and obsessively searched for trials and hidden treasure troves of the Sect, trading her spoils for sect points, exotic pills, unusual talismans and formations.
She swallowed her pride and requested tutoring from the Inner Sect students, looking for any edge that she could, even beyond those of her Family's potent arts.
For despite all of this, she was still running out of time.
All her efforts, and she had only just recently arrived to the latter stages of Yellow, with the very peak of Silver stage reached just the day before. It wasn't enough. Nothing other than Green and Bronze would suffice, could suffice.
Not with the enemies standing in her way.
The Tournament was the last chance for her plans, and her vengeance, to come to fruition.
'No. The Tournament is my only chance.'
Her enemies and her despicable fiancée were under the protection of the formidable Cai Renxiang and her faction, who was entirely too powerful and influential to ignore.
'That wretch Huang Da had chosen his allies well.'
The thoughts of her fiancee made her blood boil. Her hurt and sorrow at his actions had long since turned to anger and disgust. Never the less, her hands were tied.
She could not afford to antagonize what was essentially the ruler of the Outer Sect nor would any overt actions against Huang Da be looked upon kindly by her clan in any case, and as such, Hong Lin had to wait for the tournament, for the opportunity and the justification it would bring, to regain honor taken from her.
To punish Huang Da for his despicable behaviour. To put the gutter rat, Ling Qi, and all the other of Da's little fallow strumpets in their place. To prove her mettle to the Sect and to her Family by smiting all the challengers before her, and to forge her destiny.
She had been indolent in her efforts the first few months in the sect, and she had paid the dire price. Those lesser than her had used that opportunity to catch up with her.
Only in her darkest moments would she confront her terrible fear that they had maybe completely surpassed her, with no hope of catching up.
She refused to give in to despair. She would not accept notion of mediocrity gently and bow down meekly to faith. She would give her all, and she would succeed.
She would grow stronger and faster. She would advance further in her cultivation than anyone expected. She would refine her family arts. She would prepare her counters and cover her weaknesses. And they would never see her coming.
No matter, the pain, the sweat or the tears needed, Hong Lin will grow strong, and she will crush those in her way under her heel.
Her future demanded it.
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@yrsillar My humble contribution to the quest playerbase, to pass the time.
