ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!?

  Was he even in Liang, yet!? The last thing he wanted to do was meet one of this dimension’s Bonders! What were the odds!?

  He wasn't the only one in shock. The red-eyed woman's jaw dropped as she stared at him. He could feel the complete surprise ring throughout her soul and into his. It was far less angry than his own emotions, just completely gobsmacked to feel other things.

  It gave him a moment to get a good look at her. The combination of black hair and red eyes reminded him of a different woman of the Last World, but this one was far younger. She had black-feathered wings resting behind her. She wore a yellow top, short-sleeved no less, with black accents and embroidery and with a hole showing off the top of her cleavage. She also had shorts in the same color scheme leaving her thighs exposed above black boots that climbed above her knees. Fur… gauntlets(?) wrapped around her wrists.

  Ying felt the sting of temporal whiplash.

  Nothing the villagers or the nomads wore suggested modern. Not the clothes, not their equipment, not one hint of advanced technology. All of it traditional to suggest an older age.

  Yet, what his new Bonder wore fit no definition of traditional that he knew. The black belt that kept the outfit together came closest. Several blood-red feathers decorated it, while a hand scythe dangled from the belt. She held a new feather dripping with fresh blood in her left hand. In her right hand was another though bloody hand-scythe. Lastly, a bow and arrows hung from her wings.

  The winged woman behind the scythe wielder’s right barked a snide laugh as she stabbed her red eyes at Ying. “No dragon like I've ever seen! Strange scars too.”

  That line definitely suggested an older era. Three bullet scars lined up his right shoulder. A ring encircled his right wrist where his original hand had been cut off. A thin line cut below his ribcage. An old burn marked his lower left side, not of fire but of something hotter. All war scars as he could best tell from Adamah, his home dimension. The newest scar, three claws slicing through his pecs, was from the Last World, courtesy of a wolf monster. Does she not recognize any of them?

  The laugher was an albino. Long-white hair traveled down her back in a ponytail, secured by a black ribbon with more of those blood feathers as decoration. She also had thigh-high black boots with exposed skin between the boots and fur-lined, raven-colored shorts. Her t-shirt was also black with a chest hole near her neck. He was fairly sure it was made out of silk with various designs crossing over it. At least she wore some armor. A single, white breastplate.

  Her pinions were pure-white as they curled behind her. A bandana stretched around her forehead with white horses galloping across the black cloth. Finally a bow and a quiver of arrows rested in between her wings.

  Alarm bells started to sound as they tugged at his thoughts. A stronger form of deja vu tried to warn him about something, but he just couldn't hear it. Less so as he turned to the final woman.

  His jaw dropped.

  Dana!? Wait, I can think her name!?

  His niece of the Last World was standing there, right there! Same golden hair, golden wings, but red in place of blue eyes.

  Definitely not the same outfit though!

  In place of her flight suit, this Dana adorned herself in the black boots that united all three women. Shorts and short-sleeved top, all silk with embroidery and chest window. But her colors were red and black, in contrast to the blue of Last World Dana. She also wore an open-faced helmet, essentially a blackened iron cap on top of a fur hat with several blood-red feathers sticking out of the top. This Dana didn't wield a lance. Instead, she had a set of throwing spears on her back with one in her hands.

  She regarded Ying with a quiet sneer that felt wholly alien to the warm and sweet young woman he knew.

  “Ling!” The older woman called out. “Stop gawking and complete your task.”

  That shook the lead woman from her stupor. “Uh, right.” She pointed a scythe at him. The emotional shock faded from their bond. No surprise, only the most intense emotions were supposed to cross over. “By order of the Han Emperor, a tithe must be paid in fighting men, food, and treasure.” Her red eyes drifted down to his chest. “You will be conscripted to fight in the imperial army. Do not resist!” A bloodthirsty grin broke out on her face. “Or do. I'm good either way. Just to warn you, the Emperor suffers no defiance without blood.” She nodded to Junchi's groaning figure.

  …

  How can something go according to plan in such a twisted way?

  He left the irony behind as he took a good look at Junchi. The weathered rider had an old cloak wrapped around his midriff. From the amount of blood, Ying's instincts suggested that the man would probably live so long as he didn't lose any more blood. He turned back to Ling. He took one deep breath as he fought the urge to start a fight. He didn't know how compromised the Empire was, but wisdom insisted he start no fights with Han officials.

  Unless it happened to become necessary.

  “I will go with you to Luoyang, but I ask that you leave that,” he pointed to the gathered spoils. “Here. These people have treated me with respect, and I am worth far more than whatever you can take from them.”

  Voice even, no twitching. He thought he had done pretty well. He even felt a panic of uncertainty nestled in a wrap of anxiety, showing th-

  Wait, how had he felt that?

  Ling glanced back at the older woman. Who waved her hand dismissively. “He's no Champion, there's none out here. Idle boasts, nothing more.”

  The feeling of anxious uncertainty retreated, but he didn't like it. Ling didn’t look like she was having that big of a reaction. A new bond should only transfer someone’s most extreme emotional reactions and just the tip of that too. Either Ling was a very emotional person who was simultaneously good at concealing her emotions or…

  She brandished the hand scythe at him again. “You’re in no position to make demands! We will take what we want, and you will obey!”

  She's ignoring the bond, he noted. Why?

  An outburst popped off… from Esen. The elder raised his hand as he shouted, “Foolish girl! You stand before a Dragon and make arrogant demands! It is only by his mercy that you are alive!”

  She threw on a sneer before she reared up her scythe. “You already know the price of defiance.”

  The scythe swung toward his head as the old man cried out, “Divine One!”

  Scythe clashed against scythe. Ling's head snapped toward Ying. He couldn't stop himself from baring his teeth, his temper slipping through his fingers. “I said,” he growled. “Leave them alone.”

  Far from being intimidated, Ling grinned at him, bloodlust in her eyes. “You're such a fool.” She pressed down, inching the tip of her blade toward Esen's wide eyes.

  Ying's eyes narrowed. An outright growl marched out of his throat. The angle of their weapons worked against him, but he wasn't backing down. He shifted his left foot to better support the weight, angling him closer to the chieftain.

  The scythes halted a few inches from the elder's forehead. Then it was Ling's turn for her eyes to widen as she was forced back inch by inch. Her head snapped back to the older woman. “Mother! He's a Champion!”

  He felt the spike of surprise over their bond. This doesn't feel right.

  “Oh?” The matriarch curled her head as naked interest shone in her red eyes. “Perhaps he is worth something then.” She stepped forward as she drew her sword. “Too defiant though. Stand aside Ling. I'll have to break him.”

  He shoved Ling back a few paces. She shot him a glare as anger spiked on her side of the soul bond. It chafed at his weakening self-control. “I already told you that I am willing to go with you!”

  “Mother! I can do it!”

  “Sister,” Not-Goldana said. “Mother has given you an order.”

  A train started to pull out of the station in Ying's mind. A disturbing train as his eyes bounced between the two sisters. Goldana didn't have a sister in the Last World. The closest thing she had was-

  “But-!”

  The matriarch punched Ling in the face with enough force to send her stumbling back. Shame, embarrassment, rage, and anguish all rose within Ling as she held a hand to her face. She bared her teeth as she glared at her mother. Before slowly lowering her gaze as her anger burnt out into sullen humiliation, control barely winning out.

  Ying failed to match that mediocre level of self-control.

  An alarm sounded in his mind as too much of her emotions washed over into his soul. Frayed, his control broke as he snarled before lunging at the older woman. With a casual flick, her sword clanged against his war-scythe. She grinned at him as her arm buckled beneath his power. “Oh, you are strong. Last man who could push me back was Jian. Still.”

  She jabbed at his face with her free hand.

  It connected.

  He felt nothing but a vague sensation as crimson energy waved over him. She blinked, open shock showing up on her face for the first time. “Wha-?”

  He indulged himself. He swung the back end of his scythe into her face and grinned when the force sent her stumbling back. The sweet satisfaction of hitting an arrogant bitch proved too tempting.

  He cut loose.

  His technique was frenzied as he struck at her again and again. Only at the back of his mind did he note his strikes didn't draw blood. His war-scythe cut at her shoulder, stabbing around the breastplate. She grunted as the scythe's north point sank a few inches into her skin but no more before stabbing at his stomach. The sword point bounced off the Vitalis shield.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Her easygoing confidence vanished as she parried blade and haft. There were openings. How could he not have them given his sheer aggression? Yet, everytime she countered - sword to the chest, kick to the shin, etc- crimson absorbed the blow. Each attack cost her defense as he got a hit in return. His assault drove her backwards. They left the village behind as they rounded the pond. His spirit basked in the simple relief of hitting something as the Wuqi's aggressive energy pushed for more.

  She caught his scythe's head with her sword before pressing her free palm against her blade. They shoved at each other in mindless strength… before she pushed him a step back. In spite of all of their exertions, neither of them breathed hard as they glared at each other across their locked weapons. That cocky grin returned to her face as she pushed him another step back. “You fight like a dragon, but that's all.”

  His nostrils flared as he opened his mouth wide. A stream of fire splashed over his opponent's head.

  “Mother!” Cried out both daughters.

  The matriarch's white wings swung hard, flinging her a few inches into the air. She kicked him in the face as heels wings beat again to get her truly airborne. She scowled down at him as she sheathed her sword. “Cute trick, but you're not the only one who has mastered his element.” She pulled her bow off of her back.

  He scanned around him. Their fight had drifted into farmland next to the large pond. Hardy green did its best to survive this close to the desert and could spread if he wasn't careful. The only thing that wasn't a combustible launchpad was the-

  Crackle yanked his attention back to his foe. She had drawn an arrow… that seethed with lightning.

  He sprinted toward the pond.

  He heard, instead of felt, the lightning arrow hit his side. He wasn't sure how much longer the Vitalis shield would endure, but he doubted she would last much longer. Holding his weapon in one hand, he took a running leap toward the water. Three jets fired as he nearly hit the water's surface. Water boiled beneath him as fish scattered away. But, he pulled it off. He skimmed forward a bit before he lifted into the air.

  No second arrow hit him.

  When he oriented himself back toward her, he saw her mouth dangling open and her bow held loosely in her hand. She was shaking her head with bulging eyes. “It's not possible!”

  As satisfying as that was, he wanted more. He angled around her as he picked up speed, placing the desert behind her. She matched his orientation, however it was more reflex as she still didn't draw her bow. At the right moment, he charged.

  He didn't need to blast at her at full speed.

  He did grin when their collision echoed across the village with a clap.

  She squawked as they zipped past the village. She struggled against him for a few seconds before he drove her into the ground. Dirt sprayed around them as he used her body to gouge the desert. Until the ground brought them to a crackly stop. With his opponent half-buried in the earth, he pushed off of her before rearing back his war-scythe to finish her off.

  She looked up at him with gritted teeth and the faint hint of fear in her eyes. She blinked his swing with her bow, the wood holding against the metal without damage, as she struggled to get back on her feet. A small part of his mind whispered he should stop. That this was a good moment to offer a break.

  But the goddamned Wuqi never stopped drumming in his soul! The only relief he had found all day was in fighting! As miniscule as it was, he wanted, needed, more!

  He hammered at her, uncaring if she blocked most of it. Never minding that she managed to get back to standing during his frenzy. He barely heard her daughters land behind him.

  A drum thundered four rapid beats.

  From his opponent.

  He slowed as the very air became as thick as syrup, caught with his weapon stretched behind him. She roared as her body glowed with shifting, soft light. “Out of my way, worm!”

  He had all of a second to register the echo of power in her voice before she drew her bowstring. An arrow of pure lightning sizzled into existence, ready to fire. She released. The lightning arrow surged against his chest. The Vitalis shield.

  As before, he attacked.

  His war-scythe bounced off her glowing skin. “Wha-?”

  A second arrow hit him as she fired at point-blank range. She didn't stop firing as she delivered a continuous barrage. When his third attack hit fruitlessly against her bow, he switched to defense. Blocking arrows was a novelty he hadn't tried but had little choice. How is she doing this!? Where did this ability come from?

  He pulled his scythe center-mass. The lightning arrows flew like arrows instead of lightning bolts, giving him a small hope of blocking. He jerked his weapon up and down. He caught one arrow with his haft only to miss the other four. Abysmal, bit so long as the Vitalis shield held, he would be fi-

  Another cackling arrow slipped past his defense and struck against his chest. The overlay of crimson energy shattered and faded.

  SHIT!

  The matriarch ceased as she soared into the air with a single heat of her wings. She aimed her bow straight at the sky before loosing another arrow. The arrow flew high… before cometing back to the ground the size of a horse. He raised his war-scythe high in a block. She called me a Champion. Is that like a Sentinel?

  The block didn’t matter.

  The lightning bolt exploded upon him.

  His defensive energy held (another kind of Qi?), but it didn't protect him from what happened after. As little lightning bolts arced across his body, his muscles alternated between locking down and spasming. The pain, thankfully, was minimal.

  The danger, however, was not.

  Only his eyes moved at his express command as he did his best to look down. His neck refused, keeping his head aimed at the sky. He more heard than saw the woman drawing her sword before she rushed at him. Ice didn’t come forth since she didn’t plan on killing him, but a deeper fear shuddered at what being broken might entail. His mind raced for a solution.

  Was that Wuqi unleashed? Is it really as simple as-?

  “Hyah!” She swung at him.

  He grabbed the Wuqi bouncing around his soul and tried to copy what she did.

  Her sword slashed across his chest. His locked muscles kept him in place, no better than a training dummy.

  The Wuqi was eager, but it would not be unleashed without the right trigger. Words? Is that it? But what words!?

  A second slash. He could feel his shield Qi draining. She wasn't as powerful as Xiangu, but he could only take a couple of more hits.

  His jaw wouldn't open. Did that mean he couldn't release the Wuqi until he wasn't paralyzed? DO I REALLY HAVE TO SAY IT!?

  A third time her sword raked across him.

  He gave up. Hours of enduring misery, short on sleep, and furious at it all, he gave up trying to come up with the right word and the right plan and just do it!

  The sword came in again.

  Four drumbeats echoed out of his soul into the world around.

  His body returned to his control as all of reality seemed to slow down to his eyes. A faint glow illuminated his skin. And then he lost control of his body.

  It wasn’t another paralysis. More like a kind of autopilot. His hands snapped onto his war-scythe as he focused on his enemy. A look of abject panic bloomed on her face. Behind her, her daughters watched with bows drawn and aimed at him. Further behind them, on the edge of the tents, the village watched the duel from a safe distance.

  His hands shifted their grip to hold the tail end of his scythe. Then, his body swung.

  It was an obvious and theatrical strike. He’d have labeled it as a huge mistake since it left him wide open and a waste of energy. Except the matriarch could only ooze into a weak guard before his body struck.

  Metal rang out as weapons collided. Her sword eased away in slow motion as he completed the swing. His body wasted a second to shift momentum before delivering another blunt blow. Her sword was knocked away. A third swing struck against her body. It weirdly looked like his war-scythe phased through her body, and he couldn’t tell if that was because of the Wuqi or because of her defensive Qi.

  Yet, above it all, he felt his soul crying out in relief as the Wuqi drained itself into this assault. It was a brutish, blunt onslaught that felt more like he was swinging a bat than his war-scythe. Yet, it was effective. Step-by-step, he drove her back as he tore out chunks of her defense. He didn’t control his body per se, however he could point it in a direction. He sent her reeling back to her daughters. As the last dregs of the Wuqi spent itself, he realized what his body was doing.

  Reaping.

  With a final blow, he pushed her a pace away from her daughters.

  As the glow faded and control returned to him, he paused before dropping to his knees in front of them, his war-scythe slipping from his fingers. He’d like to think no one attacked him because he had eased off on aggression or maybe they were honorable enough to not attack an unarmed foe.

  He hoped it wasn’t because of the hysterical laugh shaking out of his chest.

  “HA HA HA HA HA! IT’S FINALLY OUT! HA HA HA HA!”

  The unnerved stares didn’t suggest they were concerned about honor. He struggled to care. After hours, his soul finally rested within his body. The sheer relief threatened tears. He scrunched up his face, split wide with a totally-sane-grin, as he suppressed them and just rode out the relief.

  It was only as the laughter petered out of him did the matriarch speak. Hands tight on her weapons, she demanded, “How did you do that? I’ve never met a Champion or Sentinel of Fire who could fly as though he had wings.”

  As his breathing slowed down, he climbed back up onto his feet. Halfway through, he nearly toppled over. His energy dropped like a rock. The last foe had been pushed aside by the situation, but sleep deprivation came stubbornly back to punch him in the head. He set his jaw and pushed back at it. As unpleasant as it was, he knew he could deal with worse. He focused on the matriarch with tired and determined eyes. Am I already breaking rules of what a Sentinel can do? Then what was the point of giving me a Sentinel name, Sim?

  He sucked in a deep breath. “I’m more than a Sentinel.”

  Ling scoffed. “You don’t actually claim to be a Dragon?”

  The matriarch turned and slapped Ling across the face. “Quiet girl! You speak out of place.”

  Maybe it was because he was tired. Maybe it was because he could feel another jolt of shame and hurt across the soul bond. In any case, he snapped, “Stop hitting her!”

  That drew the matriarch’s ire. “Do not presume to tell me how to treat my daughters. You are powerful, I can see that now. But you are not my superior.”

  I should leave it be. Family squabbles are not my business. His mouth ignored the thought. “I am. What would it take to prove it? Is the only way to beat you in a fight? Should we restart the duel?”

  Maybe he shouldn’t have said that last part a little too eagerly. She narrowed her eyes. “You are a rude one. Especially after I granted you a break that you did not ask for or deserve.”

  Oh, was he tempted to pull out the Vitalis. Smiting didn’t necessarily have to involve death, right? Reason held him back. Barely. Instead, it was trying to tug his attention back to Xiangu. Something she had said. Something that was attached to his pyrokinesis. …for the life of him, he couldn’t remember as he scowled at the matriarch. He held out a hand and a fireball erupted above his palm. “I'm not the one slapping family members.”

  All three women dropped their jaws. He could feel surprise and shock slap him from across the soul bond. Whatever smug satisfaction he felt at getting the better of the matriarch as his earlier unease finally coalesced into a cohesive realization.

  He wasn't feeling the top edge of an emotional transference like a new soul-bond. He endured something three times as powerful. His jaw joined theirs as things clicked into place, the fireball poofed out as his concentration flailed. No, no, No, NO! Why is it already a Level 3 Bond!? I only had two of those on the Last World! R- and…!?

  His eyes snapped to Not-Goldana. His niece on the Last World. Then his eyes jumped to Ling. The red eyes, the hair. The face was wrong, but he could see a different one now. One that fit the same build, one belonging to Goldana's closest friend.

  “Y-!?”

  His throat choked on the banned name, but his mind raced on, connecting people across universes. All of them related to him.

  Ling was this dimension’s version of his brother.

  Which means…

  His gaze focused on the matriarch as she brought herself under control. The red eyes, the hair once again clued him to who she was.

  R-. My uncle.