Tantra’s never seen the slums before, and with how things are going, she never fucking will.

  There’s an organized front blocking the path to the godsforsaken place, The Dreaming Lotus and The Forest Of Vines wasting so many disciples while simultaneously assaulting the slums. Apparently a proper defense by the peasantry is something cultivators find offensive, and seek to correct in the best way they know how, gratuitous violence. Still, the gangs and whoever they’ve co-opted into the effort have put in a valiant effort, only losing a few blocks in the fighting, and killing plenty of cultivators in the process.

  She would know, she’s been watching from this conveniently placed pagoda for the past week, and is actually kind of impressed. She’s always heard that numbers trump cultivation, but she hasn’t really seen proof of that until this graced her eyes. For every cultivator there are dozens of peasants ready to bear down on them, and with most that’s more than enough considering they aren’t past purification, the outliers being rushed by an absolute mob when they show themselves.

  Tantra’s almost convinced that the sects would lose if the entirety of Ralth rained down upon them, almost. Still, watching a cultivator fall to pitchforks is kind of surreal, and slightly grounding. She’s not the only one watching of course, it’s not like Synthia and her got this fancy little structure to themselves, but they’re looking more out of a need to ignore their continuously dwindling supplies using a morbid form of entertainment.

  A few fights have broken out, a few people thrown to the streets, they learned real quick not to try that shit with her or Synthia when Tantra gave a few…educational beatings. She doesn’t feel good about it, and in other circumstances she would have just left, but this spot is perfect for scouting out openings.

  She refuses to approach that mess without a plan, and so far that plan has been to keep watching, how productive. She’s starting to debate on using her soul Qi to just breeze through with Synthia on her back but…something tells her that’s a bad idea.

  It’s not that she’s following the advice of dream-Rakan, she genuinely doesn’t think that’s a good idea, could attract the kind of attention she doesn’t want. But otherwise her only option is to stay in this pagoda just…waiting, and that’s a bad idea all on its own.

  She doesn’t know how much more time she has before the peasants piece together her identity, and she has no interest in killing them to keep quiet, so Tantra has decided that if she doesn’t see an opening then they’re at least moving.

  Hopefully somewhere with better food.

  “Hey…what are they doing?” a peasant points down to the streets below where dozens of green clad disciples are gathering around the pagoda’s base. Their leader is a man carrying an odachi over his shoulder, but she can’t make much out of his features from here other than his jet-black hair.

  “Tantra kin-killer!” the man shouts, and Tantra’s blood freezes, “we know you're in there! Come out, so that we may converse as proper cultivators should.”

  Tantra turns to Synthia, who’s looking at the woman with a grim expression Tantra doesn’t much care for. A lot of the surrounding peasants whisper to each other, look around in shock at the man's declaration, and their eyes land on Tantra’s scars and Synthia’s face.

  Tantra summons her kanabō, infuses her lungs with Qi, and growls.

  The peasants back off in fear and Tantra goes to block Synthia from any of their reach.

  “Do not try anything,” she warns, mind racing with possibilities, “I won’t hesitate to end you”

  “Of course honourable one,” an elderly man shakes, “none of us would dare”

  “Good,”

  Tantra’s mind churns with possibilities on how these cultivators could possibly know she was here. Did one of the peasants report them? Just as she was musing about how they’ve stayed here for too long, fucking fantastic, this must some kind joke from the heavens.

  Fuck.

  FUCK.

  Tantra grinds her teeth in frustration as the man below keeps talking, every second spent here is a second wasted but she doesn’t know any way out. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck-

  A gentle hand rests on her shoulders.

  “It’s over Tantra,” Synthia says somberly, “let them kill me, and maybe you’ll survive.”

  “Fuck you and fuck that,” Tantra growls, “I just need to find us a way out”

  “And then what? We are hunted like dogs through the streets? This isn’t like the stories, there isn’t a happy ending to this, if I go at least one of us will survive.”

  Damn her and damn sensible logic.

  Does Tantra care?

  No, she doesn’t.

  Her mind churns and churns and-

  An idea pops into her head.

  Not a smart idea, but it’s all she’s got and they don’t have forever.

  Tantra whips around, de-manifesting her weapon and bullying Synthia onto her shoulder as the noblewoman yelps, then she vaults over the pagoda’s railing and onto the roofs, she pushes Qi into her legs and jumps.

  Ceramic tiles break as they go flying, Synthia’s screaming an ear piercing ambiance to the madness. Eventually they reach the peak of their arc and start to fall, stunned observers watching all the while. Tantra, not willing to make the same mistake twice, layers her legs with Qi as she pushes her intent and forms the scales technique.

  Now, falling is both fast and slow.

  Fast because, well, gravity.

  Its insistence on being followed has always been a sore spot for cultivators.

  Slow because there’s a not insignificant part of her brain screaming as it tries to process the stupidity of jumping fifteen stories.

  But, well, did she really have a choice?

  Wood shatters as she breaks through the roof of some poor peasants home and slams into the ground with a loud bang as her spine and muscles groan at the abuse.

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  Tough shit, she boosts her legs, and shoulders through a wooden wall, sending splinters flying as she enters a small alley, turns, and then runs.

  -

  These streets aren’t empty, far from it, which makes Tantra’s mad dash a mild inconvenience to the cultivators trying to kill each other. She pumps her legs and heart full of Qi, as much as she can maintain, pushing her intention to increase her speed. That last bit hasn’t done much, she hasn’t really practiced boosting techniques besides her own modification, which she now realizes was definitely a mistake she will not be repeating.

  She can think about that once she gets to safety.

  She has plenty of Qi, could probably keep this going for hours if her body was tempered enough. Unfortunately, it is not, meaning she has at best half an hour before her legs turn to jelly, and she isn’t going to gamble their lives to see if any of those chucklefucks behind her can last longer.

  So.

  Planning.

  She has one, it’s just the one she doesn’t want to do, but Tantra doesn’t have much of a choice now does she?

  She ducks under a greatsword and keeps running.

  No, she doesn’t, so she puts the potential consequences out of her mind as she runs directly towards a raging battlefield of pinks and greens. Yup, she’s going with her earlier plan, they’re either getting into the slums or they’re going to die, and Tantra is determined on the former.

  Tantra pulls soul Qi into her heart, and she feels the vascular systems of so many people.

  It’s…it’s so beautiful, like an array of gems, each just as precious as the last.

  Instantly she becomes a blur to her pursuers, she weaves around the chaos with little to no grace, but still managing to avoid getting struck with any weapons. A few eyes turn her way, the ones that can follow her movements and the ones she does not want the attention of.

  One.

  She jumps, as the crowd in front of her is too dense for her to pass through, her caliga lands on the head of a cultivator as she starts using each of them as stepping stones for her escape, giving multiple concussions along the way.

  Two.

  She hits the ground and-

  Ducks, a gigantic sword cleaves through multiple cultivators, pink and green, as a woman in green robes prepares another strike.

  Fuck.

  Tantra can’t afford a fight, especially not against someone who can follow her movements, but she can’t afford to show her back to this woman either.

  So she compromises.

  She throws Synthia high into the air, (the noblewomans been screaming somewhere around the time they collided with the two armies) and manifests her club, swinging it at the woman's knee.

  The woman grins and checks the fucking kanabō, Tantra almost blinks in suprise but she doesn’t have the time obviously, closing her eyes for even a moment is a death sentence. The woman slams her foot against the ground and brings down her blade, and Tantra dodges, leaving the thing to dig into the ground.

  Three,

  Tantra brings her club down on the woman's fingers, getting a grimace, but she doesn’t let go of her massive sword. What is a blade like that even called?

  Doesn’t matter.

  The woman lifts her blade and does another horizontal slash.

  Tantra, having seen what his monster did to the ground, chooses once again to dodge, then swings her kanabō at the woman's temple, which she just ducks under and brings her blade down in a diagonal slash.

  Tantra barely dodges this one, but then the woman does something tremendously stupid.

  She twirls.

  Tantra takes advantage instantly and collides her kanabō with the back of her head.

  Four,

  The woman staggers, and Tantra doesn’t let up, continuously crashing her kanabō into her body, actually making her bleed at some point, what an accomplishment.

  Then she de-manifests her weapon and catches Synthia before she hits the ground.

  Five,

  She pushes more soul Qi into her heart and jumps, creating a small crater from the sheer force and thoroughly ruining her footwear, she arcs through the air slow, and she looks over her shoulder to see the massive sword lady cutting a swath through the crowds trying to get to her, but it’s too late.

  A total of two seconds pass before they hit the ground and Tantra dashes into the slums.

  -

  Including the few extra seconds Tantra boosted at the end, she pumped about eleven seconds worth of Qi into her bloodstream. That apparently was enough to knock her entirely unconscious and, according to her new understanding, give her a heart attack. She probably should have tested how much her body can handle before dedicating so much time to gathering soul Qi, but more Qi is always a good thing so she just metaphorically shrugs and moves on with it.

  Metaphorically because she literally can’t move.

  Just staring at an unfamiliar roof as she breathes in and out slow, fuck she’s going to have to get her foundations much farther if she wants any chance against people like that sword lady, despite her…questionable display of skill.

  Who the fuck twirls in a fight?

  “Idiots mostly,” says a familiar voice to her right as a damp cloth is placed on her forehead, “Is that what was happening while I was careening through the air? Sounds entertaining at least.”

  “Did I say that out loud?” Tantra says as she moves her eyes to spot a…surprisingly put together Synthia.

  Huh, she was kinda looking forward to teasing the noblewoman, she did a lot of screaming, and a bit of crying.

  Tantra doesn’t really know if she should, considering the strange look Synthia’s giving her.

  “What, is there something on my face?”

  “Why?” Synthia asks instead of answering.

  “Why what?”

  “Why do what you did? you would have been fine if you simply left me.”

  Tantra has just enough were withdrawn to roll her eyes, “I’m your guard idiot”

  “One who isn’t being paid,” she points out.

  “Yeah, I’ll just put it on your tab if you care so much.”

  “That’s not the point,” Synthia sighs, “you would have been fine, you’ve already done plenty, there was no need to do more, so why risk yourself?”

  “This line of questioning is kinda insulting, we’re both whole and hale, do my reasons really matter in the end?”

  “Yes,”

  “You’re doing this because I can’t move aren’t you?”

  “Yes,”

  “Fucking shark of a noblewoman,” Tantra grumbles, which actually gets a slight chuckle from Synthia, but the slight tremor of her hands doesn’t escape Tantra.

  She doesn’t know how long it’s been, but clearly not that long if the woman’s still experiencing the aftereffects of panic, Tantra’s eyes soften slightly.

  “Why’d you drag me here?” Tantra says, “you could have left me just as well.”

  “That’s different and you know it.”

  “Is it? At the end of the day neither wants to abandon the other, do I really need some deep philosophical reason?”

  “No, but you are a logical woman, so I expect a logical reason.”

  “I have a perfectly logical reason, I don’t want to see my friends die, not if I can do something about it.”

  “Even if it kills you?”

  “Even if it kills me.”

  Synthia blinks, scrunches her brow, then sighs.

  “I assume that means getting you to promise to prioritise yourself if the situation gets hopeless wouldn’t be feasible.”

  “Yep,” Tantra chirps.

  Synthia gives her a soft smile, “Truly, the cultivators' ways have rotted your brain.”

  “In all the best ways I hope,” Tantra smiles back.

  “Well, you’re not a murderous sociopath, so perhaps that holds some truth”

  Tantra laughs a little at that alongside Synthia.