Chapter 13: The Five-Petaled Orchid vs The Five-Spanning Plum
"The Five-Petaled Orchid?" Even upon hearing the name, most of the crowd remained bewildered. After all, it was a legend long lost to time, a tale so ancient that few even remembered its existence. And now, before their very eyes, the myth had returned to life, materializing as reality.
"Those young lads are in big trouble now," the elder sighed heavily. "I wonder if they know how to counter it. It won't be easy…"
The six masked figures in black robes flinched upon hearing the elder reveal their formation and instinctively quickened their movements. The pressure bearing down on the five trapped within the formation, already as heavy as Mount Lishan, instantly multiplied twofold, threefold. Their legs began to buckle, blood trickled from the corners of their mouths, and the ground beneath them sank.
The middle-aged man leading the black-clad group grew increasingly uneasy. No one had ever lasted this long within their formation. These opponents were indeed formidable. He shot a glance at his comrades, and they began chanting faster, their words blurring into a rapid murmur.
"Ugh!" Lief was the first to falter, coughing up blood as he was on the verge of collapse.
A strand of black hair drifted by, coiling around his waist, holding him upright and preventing him from falling. Manning's expression had shifted from panic to a calm, knowing smile. "The Five-Petaled Orchid, is it? Well, that makes it easier."
He began moving gracefully, his every step fluid and elegant, drawing the attention of many young women in the audience. His light-blue robes fluttered as he danced through the battlefield, his silken hair flowing like a living thing. Not a single member of the Fensa team could lay a finger on him; instead, he slipped past them like a fish through water. He had now broken free of his own encirclement and made his way toward Cain.
"Close your eyes. Step three paces to the left, one upward, then two to the left again."
Cain, struggling to breathe, followed Manning's instructions with the last bit of clarity he could muster. As he moved, the searing heat of the flames faded away, and he found he could breathe once more.
Lief, unconscious, was being dragged along by Manning's hair, his body moving despite himself. After a few steps, the pain from the weapons assaulting him began to diminish, and he slowly regained consciousness.
Even though the spectators didn't know exactly what was happening, they could see that the tide of the battle was turning. The five members of the Fensa team were growing increasingly frantic, no longer as composed as they had been at the start. Meanwhile, the Queen's team was gradually escaping their predicament, regaining their strength.
"Look, look! The plum blossom is forming!" The seemingly nonsensical exclamation echoed the sentiments of the entire crowd. As Manning, Cain, and Lief moved with increasing precision and grace, a faint outline of a three-spanning plum blossom began to bloom in the arena, serene and elegant.
The elder stroked his beard in admiration. "Remarkable, truly remarkable. To witness such legendary martial techniques here… these youngsters are extraordinary! This is worth writing down." He pulled out a notebook and began to scribble furiously.
"Lancaster! Lancaster, focus! Do exactly as I say! Step one pace to the right and upward, then two to the left, and three downward."
Lancaster followed Manning's directions, and the raging waves before him slowly receded. The familiar sight of the arena reappeared before his eyes. The plum blossom expanded to four petals.
"But it's a cruel move," the elder sighed softly, lifting his head. "Pity that young lad…"
Just as Lancaster was about to take the final step, he glanced back. Thackeray was kneeling on one knee, his body riddled with wounds, blood pooling beneath him.
Thackeray, who had been holding on with great difficulty, suddenly felt an overwhelming surge of pressure. The sand beneath his feet shifted, threatening to pull him under, while the sun above scorched mercilessly, and the howling wind blew sand into his face. He couldn't move; the more he struggled, the deeper he sank. The quicksand swirled faster and faster, and he finally surrendered to its pull, allowing it to drag him into the abyss.
At the last moment, just before he was completely swallowed, he opened his eyes and saw Lancaster's anxious gaze through the haze. Has Lancaster escaped? That's good enough. It doesn't matter what happens to me now. He tried to muster a smile, but his strength failed him, and darkness consumed him.
Lancaster said nothing. He simply stepped back, casting a sharp, icy glance at Manning. Manning, in turn, used his hair to lift Thackeray and pull him from the formation. The four-spanning plum blossom bloomed into five petals the moment Thackeray was pulled out—but the last petal was stained with blood.
"Ah, it's all tied to fate. The Five-Petaled Orchid and the Five-Spanning Plum…" The elder sighed deeply once more.
In the distant past, before the current era, there was a brilliant young man. He became famous in his youth, unrivaled in both martial skill and cunning. But there was one flaw—he fell in love with a woman who could never be his, his sister-in-law. The love he bore was too painful, so painful that his eyes were forever clouded with bitterness, the bitterness of unrequited love. Yet he never said a word; her happiness was his happiness. But his elder brother misunderstood. The young man fought to his last breath to prove his innocence, saving his brother with one arm and his sister-in-law with his life. And then, with no regrets, he closed his eyes for the final time.
The Five-Petaled Orchid was his ultimate technique. Once unleashed, it could be as large or small as necessary, and no matter how many enemies he faced, they would all fall. But when faced with his Five-Spanning Plum, it became a fatal move, a death sentence. His love for her was so deep, so intense, and so bitter, that he wished only to die by her hand.
After his death, she finally understood his heart, though there was nothing she could do to return his love. So she modified the technique, originally a solo skill, to be executed by five people. They could escape the formation, but only by sacrificing one. The bloodstained petal of the plum blossom was her tribute to him.
His name was Liu Suifeng. Hers was Zhao Shirong.
Though the legend had scattered like leaves in the wind, the technique was still passed down.
As the elder reflected on the tragic tale, the situation on the battlefield shifted once more. The Fensa team no longer paid any attention to the four who had escaped the formation. Instead, they focused their attacks on Lancaster. Though Manning and the others had broken free, they were too exhausted to recover their strength quickly, leaving them helpless as they watched Lancaster fight alone.
"You cowards!" Lief couldn't help but shout.
Every blow from the Fensa team was aimed at Lancaster's left arm, the very place that had yet to heal from his battle with Daniel, where his injury was most severe. The pain in Lancaster's elbow was unbearable, as though it would shatter at any moment. His arm grew too heavy to lift, too weak to hold his sword.
Clang. His sword fell to the ground.
Completely drained, Lancaster sank to the ground, watching the five swords descend upon him with a faint smile.