Wu Hao watched the darkness swirl around him in the training area and sensed the presences there, feeling the unique scents of their qi gather themselves as they made their last preparations. A little further he felt a muted, tranquil feeling, the old well of Wang Hangsheng's qi.

  He hadn't felt it before, but now that he knew the man, he knew what to look for. The tranquility had messed with him, when everything else seemed to be in motion, but now he realized that it was just an illusion. It wasn't quiet at all, the movement was just hidden away.

  It helped that Wang Hangsheng was probably announcing his presence to Wu Hao deliberately, he figured. After a moment more, it vanished again, the snake's head withdrawing back underneath the water. He faded slightly from Wu Hao's senses.

  Taking a breath, Wu Hao spoke into the empty-looking night air.

  "Shan Kong," Wu Hao said, voice loud. "Zhu Yelin. Li Yanqing. Come out. Let's end this."

  He saw sudden spikes of hesitation in the three boys' qis, surprise mingling with that hesitation to form something not unlike regret for something they had yet to do. But then there was a firming, a reaffirmation, as hate spiked within Shan kong's sea of qi.

  Good. If Wu Hao didn't kill anyone tonight, he might have still wound up killing himself in an effort not to go mad.

  The first thing that emerged from the darkness this time wasn't the face of Shan Kong, but instead the glint of his saber. Like the last time he'd lived this night, there was an angry red scar on the boy's hand that swirled up the rest of his arm, scuttling behind his sleeve.

  That had been Wu Hao's work. This time it wouldn't just be scars, though.

  Behind Shan Kong, Zhu Yelin leapt down from where he'd been hiding atop the roof, and Li Yanqing rushed forward in a swirl of qi. He pushed a hand out to the side, summoning some more, and pushed it out towards the lanterns, the same way he had last time.

  "Yes," Shan Kong said, lowering his profile slightly and pointing the tip of his saber directly at Wu Hao. "Let's end this."

  The lanterns around the square began to ignite, one by one. Wu Hao seized the moment as the qi ran from one lantern to another to rip one of the knives from his belt.

  Shoving qi down his wrist until the muscles there bulged with the effort, Wu Hao threw the first of his knives, then drew his hand back for another throw before he'd even seen if the first had landed. There was a faint cry of surprise - not pain, unfortunately - and then the characteristic snap and grinding, aching buzzing of Shan Kong activating his technique.

  "Deep Ocean Devil Art," Shan Kong spoke, his tone unwavering. "Wave Cutter!"

  His saber lashed out. Wu Hao let his second knife fly, aiming for the dead center of Shan Kong's forehead, and then threw himself to the side, dodging past the vertical wave of qi that might've taken his arm off had he stayed. He rolled, turned, ripped his saber from its sheathe, and poured qi into it.

  Wu Hao's qi responded eagerly to the command for a Tempest Slash, the same way it had earlier tonight when carving the knives. It burst into Wu Hao's saber with an almost bloody glee, and the sound of its buzzing sounded like the roar of a tiger in his ears.

  He charged forward and met Shan Kong blade-to-blade, the sound of two qi-enhanced sabers clashing directly ringing out into the arena. Wu Hao could feel the impact of his own saber being forced to a sudden stop, but equally he could see the qi swirling around Shan Kong's sword, could see it surging further into Shan Kong's saber as the other boy was forced to pull it forward to not buckle.

  Qi-teeth crashed into the metal of Wu Hao's saber, met with the roaring of furious winds. Neither cancelled the other out and each bit into metal deeply, leaving scores of tiny imprints and cracks all along both blades.

  Locked deep in that struggle, Wu Hao's instincts screamed at him, and he let his saber fall back abruptly, feeling it be pushed back to his own chest even as he forced qi to his feet and leapt up, turning in mid-air as he tumbled and landed again.

  Zhu Yelin's sword might have bitten deeply into his side, if he hadn't dodged that. There was a thick red line across Zhu Yelin's eyebrow that bled heavily, dripping blood into his eyes.

  A flare of qi next to Wu Hao sent him into another whirling block, smashing away Li Yanqing's attempt to cut into him with a lot more ease. He fired himself away, feet skidding back over the stone as he flew, gaining distance.

  Wu Hao took another deep breath, felt qi running through every meridian in his body, and made the final adjustments to his plan.

  The mistake he'd made last time was to take out the weakest of the three first. Now he'd try it the other way around.

  Again he felt the stone fly under him as he rushed forward, saber held into the first stance of the Storm-Cutting Saber Art as he ran. He didn't rush at his full speed now, though, instead taking more cautious steps in a zig-zagging pattern, trying to keep all three of them in his sights.

  Shan Kong activated the Wave Cutter again, this time with a note of resolve in his voice. When they'd clashed earlier, he must have gained some confidence.

  Wu Hao cut the flow of qi to his own saber, the buzzing giving a final few spasms and then dying out as the qi ran out. Then, still running, he wove qi agin, forcing it into a slightly different shape.

  The Wave Cutter would smash into him, unless he blocked, or dodged, or tried to evade it some other way.

  Fine.

  The bandit's saber lashed out with another Tempest Slash, its tip flashing out into a perfect arc that whistled past Shan Kong's unprotected throat and then further still, cutting deep.

  Blood flew. Wu Hao's saber reached the apex of its flight, and then the Wave Cutter smashed into him.

  It tore at him. Although maybe it was more accurate to say it bit into him, teeth leaving wounds on his arm and the rest of his skin. Wu Hao staggered back, feeling a sudden onset of weakness as more blood flew, but equally abruptly as it'd arrived the Wave Cutter vanished into nothingness.

  One step removed from each other, their sabers flashed. But they were both limited by the fact that they could only use one technique at a time, and Shan Kong kept having to fall back, breaths coming shallower and shallower until finally he was forced to acknowledge that his breaths had stopped coming altogether.

  Wu Hao raised his head.

  Shan Kong watched blood run down his throat, a waterfall spouting from the wound he'd received earlier, eyes wide and face paling. His hands flew to his neck and he tried to say something, but then Wu Hao sprinted forward and kicked him, jumping in his haste to put an end to it, and the other boy was thrown back like a child's doll that had become a chore to play with.

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  He smashed into a lantern with a loud crack, his hands moved slightly like he was reaching upwards for something that simply wasn't there, and then went quiet and limp.

  There was a final whisper that leaked from his lips - Wu Hao faintly understood something like "Father" and "Why" - and then Shan Kong died. Qi blossomed up from his corpse immediately, leeching up into the air like the last embers of a fire had just gone out. The light of the lantern flickered, sputtered, and died.

  Silence hung in the square for a moment, broken only by Wu Hao's quiet gasps for breath. It felt like he was the only one who could still breathe, because the other two didn't seem capable. Even Wang Hangsheng, sitting there in the distance, momentarily stirred.

  The anchor that Shi Huyin had left reared itself up like a snake, detaching itself from Shan Kong's carcass as its untethered end rose up on the cloud of dying qi. Then it lunged for Wu Hao.

  He'd been waiting for it, though, and batted it aside with a single qi-enhanced hand. It stuck to the back of his hand but then he pulled hard, and the thin thread tore free before it could pull on his emotions But at least he was free of that attachment, at least.

  The thread fluttered down onto the ground like a physical thing, before it too began to fade into nothingness. It dissolved into embers and then was gone.

  "You killed him," Zhu Yelin said, eyes wide. "You -"

  Typical, Wu Hao thought to himself. The same line again. At least it'd given him a bit of time to take a breath.

  Wu Hao surged forwards as he detonated the qi that he'd been storing in his feet and blasting himself forwards. With a twist of his arm, drops of his blood flicked out like arrows, splashing onto Li Yanqing.

  The other boy flinched back like Wu Hao had thrown a hidden weapon, but the blood was utterly harmless, and when he opened his eyes again, he'd have seen Wu Hao already arrive in front of Zhu Yelin.

  "One down," Wu Hao whispered into the boy's ear, who stiffened even as his saber rose into a block. It slowed fractionally, just enough that Wu Hao's saber could carve a deep groove into Zhu Yelin's chest.

  Zhu Yelin roared something and kicked Wu Hao back, with Wu Hao borrowing the force of the blow to throw himself back and up, soaring through the air. In the distance he saw Li Yanqing, clearly hesitating over running or not.

  Wu Hao made the decision for him. His hands ripped at his belt, fumbling with the first knife that he found and nearly cutting himself as he tore it free.

  "Run," Li Yanqing stammered. "Run!"

  Qi charged through the knife, and Wu Hao spent precious seconds lining up his target as Li Yanqing began to turn away from Wu Hao, panic in his eyes.

  The knife took him in the chest and detonated, showering his hands and his skin with debris and metal shrapnel and the hate that Wu Hao had imbued into every single one of the patterns. Li Yanqing's arms were forced apart by the blast, flying to his sides, and he spun before falling down.

  Dead. Another strand of qi rose.

  Wu Hao turned, and immediately blasted off again, ankles screaming in protest at the sudden turns and stops he'd forced them into, but he was damned if he let himself get caught again.

  Pain was good, though. Meant he wasn't dead yet.

  Zhu Yelin paled but set his feet.

  "Murderer!" he screamed, finally finding his voice. "You're insane!"

  Wu Hao smashed into him like a comet, saber whirling into another of the Storm-Cutting Saber Art's techniques. Zhu Yelin forced his entire being into attempting to block it, but Wu Hao hadn't put any qi into it and simply bounced off.

  Then he activated the Tempest Slash for a third time.

  He turned, pivoting on a single foot, both hands and every muscle in his body pushing with everything he had to try and cut through Zhu Yelin's guard. The metal shrieked against Zhu Yelin's saber as they collided and then began to bite gigantic cracks into the metal.

  "No!" Zhu Yelin screamed. Both of his hands were pushing hard, trying to keep the saber's tip from piercing his chest. "No, please!"

  Wu Hao withdrew a hand from the saber, and in moments more he was overpowered by Zhu Yelin, whose eyes had gained a feverish cast. With a feral shout, Zhu Yelin's qi swirled forwards in a haze, the scent of blood washing into Wu Hao's senses as Zhu Yelin threw his final blow.

  "Bloodbound Blade Art - "

  Then Wu Hao's fourth knife, snatched from his belt with a single hand, was thrust straight into Zhu Yelin's chin, destroying the soft skin there and lancing so deep that even with his qi-enhanced strength Wu Hao couldn't break past all of the bones in its way.

  Zhu Yelin gargled something as his last words and then the scent of blood faded, turning from something supernatural to something wholly natural. Wu Hao pushed the other boy back and retreated, trying to ignore the wet sound of the knife sliding out of Zhu Yelin's flesh. The thread of Shi Huyin's qi coiled outwards but struck out at nothing and fell back down, dissolving into nothingness like the others had.

  Wu Hao stared, and he felt - he felt nothing, he reminded himself. He could feel all he wanted later. Now he needed to hold onto his anger. Anger made him productive, moreso than the hollow feeling that now nestled in his chest.

  That had been disappointing, though. For all that he'd lived up to this moment, this seemed oddly... lacking.

  Wang Hangsheng's qi stirred once more, blurred and was then gone. His emotions had been impossible to read, but Wu Hao thought he might have detected a faint hint of emotion, there. Respect, perhaps.

  That was not what he had wanted Wang Hangsheng to feel. He had wanted fear.

  The knife clattered from numb fingers. He stared down at the three bodies.

  Yeah, Wu Hao thought. That had been too easy. Maybe it'd been that he knew what they'd been planning, maybe it'd been that he'd attacked the strongest first, but he didn't feel victorious or strong. They'd just felt weak.

  Compared to the people he'd have to actually face off against, they'd barely been more than a warmup.

  Then he sighed, rolled up the sleeves of his robe, and started dragging them away to where he'd planned on storing the bodies. He had to get the hell out of here quickly before Shan Guoxi showed up.