The Writing on the Wall
The shadows in the chamber gradually grow lighter as you wait, bleary from the lack of sleep; looking up, you can see the barest hint of light far off in the distance. You can see your surroundings without needing the moss now, but even then the only light that filters down from the top is weak and sickly, giving you little to work with. There appears to be a mesh of some sort in the way, but at any rate it is far too high for you to reach even with your qinggong.
Qilin awakens around what you conjecture to be midday, though the chamber is gloomy enough that you cannot be certain. She gives you a faint smile but otherwise remains uncharacteristically silent, too weak to even speak. Her fever has receded partially – as you check her wounds for signs of infection, you are pleased to see that they seem to be healing well. Still, you are no miracle healer: if you are to estimate how long it would take for her to recover fully, you think it would take the better part of a week.
By the time the light starts to recede again, you are feeling peckish. You hear a slight growl of a churning tummy. It is not yours; you turn to look at Qilin, who seems to be slightly ashamed. “I don’t have any food with me, unfortunately,” you say. “We are going to need to eat, though.” If you weaken and waste away down here from lack of food, escape is going to become near impossible. Qilin would also need to eat to regain her strength. Luckily, you are no stranger to living in the wilderness – your time spent in the jungles of Maniac Island have taught you a thing or two about gourmet eating.
You had heard rats moving around throughout the night; they should begin to start up their activity again soon. Holding still, you focus your senses outwards, relying on your ears and nose rather than your eye.
It does not take long for you to pick up the characteristic squeaking and scuttling. You wait quietly for one rather brave and curious rat to venture closer to you.
The moment it sets its paw within your range, you pounce. Bursting forward, you pin down the rat with one hand, trapping it underneath your palm. You scoop up the struggling rat, ignoring its furious squeaks, and with your other hand you wring its neck swiftly. The rat falls limp immediately, its legs twitching in the air. Drawing your dagger, you set about butchering it for its meat. The taste is bloody and raw, and not half as good as the animals you could find on Maniac Island, but it would do.
Qilin looks at you with apprehensive eyes as you dangle a piece of rat flesh in front of her. She shakes her head weakly. It seems that the choice of diet aside, she is still too weak to chew, and the rat meat is too stringy to swallow whole either. It looks like you would have to find a safer way. “Look,” you say to Qilin reluctantly, scratching your head, “It’s not like I want to do this, alright? I’m just taking care of a patient, that’s all. Don’t struggle.”
You pop the piece of rat into your mouth and chew it thoroughly, making sure to break it down properly. Then, you swiftly cup Qilin’s chin with one hand, stretching her mouth open, and cover her lips with your own before she can push you away. She tries to protest wordlessly as you push the pre-chewed food into her mouth with your tongue. It would be easier for her to swallow the food that way. As you draw back, she involuntarily gulps down the rat meat. Her face has turned a bright red and her eyes are closed as she breathes heavily. “I know you’re not happy about it,” you say apologetically, “but I’m going to have to do this until you get strong enough to eat by yourself.” She does not respond, turning her head away from your sight.
You decide to turn your attention to the bloody writing on the walls to occupy your time. They are divided into four parts – the first three segments appear to detail martial arts techniques, while the last is a testament of some kind. The techniques are recorded in the form of poetry… it would take you some time to understand and interpret them properly.
***
You pick one of the first three segments to begin deciphering:
A. The segment that begins: “In my youth my feet were as fast as lightning and as strong as thunder; therein lay my hope to rival the eight mountains.”
B. The segment that begins: “In my prime I became the unsurpassed Conqueror’s Spear; with spear in hand I pierced the heavens and split the mountains.”
C. The segment that begins: “In my dotage the dark took me; the swooping claws of the bats in their hunt leave their mark both on me and my foes.”
***
The last segment was a relatively straightforward account. As you read it, your heart felt ever more grim. It told you of the identity of the one who was imprisoned in this chamber, and likely the one who had seemed to bear so much grudge against the Emperor.
If you had been in his position, you think that you would likely feel the same.
As if on cue, you hear chains rattling the moment you finish reading the tale. You turn to look at the entrance of the chamber. The powerful madman is crouching there, half-hidden in the darkness, a body slung over his shoulder. From the clothes you identify the dead man as one of Gao Ying’s agents. He throws the body to the ground – to your disgust, it appears to have been partially eaten.
“Cold… dead flesh. That does not taste too good anymore? I like to eat them hot, warm. Warm… is better,” mutters the old man, his face swivelling in Qilin’s direction. You move carefully but quickly, putting yourself in between her and the madman. His mutilated face distorts as he senses your movement. You shiver slightly as you remember the old man’s tale, and whose blood he wrote it in. Steadying your feet against the ground, you take a stance, keeping yourself on guard. You can tell that he is strong… perhaps stronger than your master, even.
As expected, he attacks without warning, leaping at you with a hungry moan. As he whips his misshapen limbs around, the chains fly towards you. You realize now that they were not attached to anything: just extremely long. You take a quick hop, landing on the chains as they pass by and leaping off them. When you hit the ground, however, the old man is already there – he seems to be able to read your movements almost perfectly despite not having any eyes. Hoping to throw him off guard, you shout out his name. “General Yang Xue!”
The old man does respond; he slows down for a second. That is enough for you.
Twisting around, you lash out at his head with a well-timed Chuzhan Fist, launched with all of your strength.
At least, at the very least, you could drive him back, and keep Qilin safe for a while longer.
Before your fist can reach him, his chains wrap around your arm, immobilizing it with ease a bare inch away from his noseless face. With a cackle, the old man grabs your head with one hand and slams you into the ground hard enough to make you see stars. His spindly fingers close around your throat as he draws his head close – the stink of his fetid breath causes you to gag. Then, he sinks his teeth into your shoulder. You grit your teeth to avoid shouting out from the pain.
As you try to push him off, you realize that something is changing within you – the old general is attempting to devour not just your flesh, but your internal strength; his fingers are pressed down where several of your important meridian points should be, in an attempt to open the floodgates. As your qi slowly ebbs away from your body, flowing into his, you find yourself able to manipulate your inner strength again…
***
A. If he is trying to absorb your inner strength, you will try to absorb his. You attempt to counteract the flow of qi to the extent that his begins to flow into yours: due to Yuanshi Hundun’s primordial nature, it should be possible for you to learn how to consume his energy in return and attempt to make it yours.
B. If he wants your inner strength, he can take it: you unleash all of the energy you can muster, pouring it into the old man in an attempt to overload his meridians. Your proficiency at extending qi outside of your body will be tested and possibly pushed beyond its limits.