Mountains of Gold

There weren't always dragons in the Valley.

An annoyed grunt broke the silence which hung over them, and Liè Fèng found himself unconsciously tightening the bindings wrapped around his callused fists. To his side, the young monk spared him a brief glance and an enigmatic smile, before returning his attention to placing one foot before the other in endless repetition. The noonday sun glinted brightly off his companion’s shaved head.

Behind them trailed a procession of over a dozen horses, adorned in nothing but the ropes being used to guide them along. Each one of the magnificent animals would be a treasure to any of the local farmers, and so many in one place was a gift worthy of an emperor.

Or a god.

The ill-needed reminder of their purpose only darkened the older man’s mood. If the world were just, those peaceful days would soon return; before the serpentine beasts of scale and fire had descended upon this once peaceful valley of farming villages and minor feudal lords.

“You look upset, Master Mountain Splitter,” stated the young monk, smiling once more.

The aging martial artist offered another annoyed grunt in reply. “I left that title behind long ago. I am nothing more than a simple teacher these days.”

His companion nodded amiably; his hands tucked deeply within the sleeves of his robes. Even through the bulky robes, Liè Fèng could hear the soft clacking of prayer beads being run through the young man’s hidden fingers; the uneven and hasty sounds betrayed the nervousness of the otherwise stoic monk.

“All the more reason to thank you for accompanying me on my pilgrimage,” his companion offered with a bowed head. “I am certain the new God of the Valley will be beyond pleased with our humble offering.”

They both glanced back to the procession of horses behind them, their fine coats shimmering in the sunlight. Liè Fèng felt the weight of the bundled ropes that bound the animals to him, both the physical weight of it, as well as the weight pressing on his heart, and could only shake his head. What a colossal waste of life.

“If you are so certain this ‘god,’ as you call it, will be pleased,” he asked with a smug grin, “Then why ask me to accompany you, whatever my reputation may be?”

Unconsciously, he tugged at the long jacket covering his otherwise simple robes, his chest swelling as he flexed muscles trained across a lifetime. He quickly caught himself, as the horses began to pull at the reins, suddenly growing nervous at his mere presence.

He caught the monk staring at him for a moment, before the young priest shook his head, only to laugh weakly.

“Yes, well, as a wise philosopher once said: ‘One should always venerate the gods… but you would be a fool to trust them’.”

The honest words drew a bark of laughter from the once renowned martial artist. Reaching out, he clapped a hand to his companion’s shoulder, sending the slender acolyte stumbling a few steps.

“Practical, at least,” he admitted. He then glanced around, taking in the splendor of the region, stretching on in all directions. Sapphire blue skies laid across the emerald forests that blanketed the distant shoulders of the valley. And, at the heart of the valley, cradled at the very lowest point, Shuǐ Shén Lake; the vast body of water glittered like an ocean of the finest cut diamonds.

From their vantage, he could also see several villages, some only a few miles away.

It was impossible to miss the columns of smoke rising from some, but not that of simple cooking fires. Long, blackened streaks criss-crossed many of the settlements, their origin self-evident.

Taking in the sight, Liè Fèng’s gaze hardened, and the rope creaked loudly as his fists curled.

“These dragons are nothing beyond unthinking beasts.” He gestured furiously to the lake, where the so-called god had made its home. “And this Hé Lóng, as you have named it, is just the largest and cruelest of its ilk.”

He swung his arm wide, across the entirety of the Valley. “They do nothing but eat and destroy; wanton demons, not gods!”

The young monk spun on him as his voice rose, urgently shushing him. There had been a time, long ago, when Liè Fèng would have laid a man low for such disrespect… but the infamous Mountain Splitter died long ago, trading what little he had possessed for more than he ever could have hoped for.

Sighing weakly, he dipped his head in way of apology. No serpentine figures cut through the air presently, but who knew what could set off such unpredictable creatures.

He tugged at the reins; the horses once again spooked by his growing ire. The rest of their trip passed in silence; his companion looking too nervous to speak, and the old master not trusting himself to speak without anger. Trying to appease the beast that unleashed destruction upon his friends and neighbors? The very thought ran against the grain of the man he had come to be.

But if not him, hidden away in this forgotten valley, so far out on the fringes of the empire and so very distant from the Capital, then who else? Certainly not a certain foolish youth that he would never risk on such a fool’s errand.

And yet… if it worked… If they could tame the fury of the Great Dragon? Could they bring peace to the valley once more, and without the need to spill blood? …Well, no blood beyond that of these poor horses. Perhaps it was a fool’s errand, but if there was a chance he could save even a single life, then it would be worth it.

A quarter of a mile from the lake’s shore, the horses began to fight against the ropes. The noble beasts whinnied frantically, their eyes wide with terror. Yes, the instincts of these animals were keen. He could feel it himself, the oppressive weight hanging in the air. Even his unflappable companion seemed aware, a sheen of perspiration clinging to his shaved scalp.

Hating that he had to do so, Liè Fèng pulled on the heavy bundle or ropes that were lashed to the twelve great beasts of burden. As one, all twelve horses slid inexorably forward. Hooves kicked furiously into the soft soil, launching clumps of dirt and stone as great muscled flanks pulled against him with all their might. With scarcely any effort at all, he simply took another step, dragging the entire team along with him.

He watched, puzzled, as the Monk’s eyes nearly bulged from his skull as he watched the warrior pull his ‘offering to the gods.’ The aging martial artist had assumed the Monk had been aware of his reputation; why seek his aid otherwise?

“By all the gods…” his companion muttered under his breath. “I had heard the stories, but I had thought that was all they were.”

Liè Fèng rolled his eyes. The younger generation, far removed from the horrors of the war, were too sheltered. Ignoring the inane words of the monk, he continued the dire work of delivering the sacrifice. It broke his heart to watch the horses fight against him, lost fully in their terror, but if the choice was between them, or the people of the Valley…

The large animals dug deep furrows in the ground as he continued to drag them towards the lake.

The section of shore his young companion led them to looked unremarkable, at first glance, but there was no doubt in his mind that this was where they needed to be. Even he, survivor of countless battles and possessing an unwavering warrior’s spirit, could feel the malevolent presence that hung in the air, like a ghostly hand reaching into his chest to clench his heart.

The sounds of rushed prayers and the loud clacking of beads drew his attention back to the priest at his side. Eyes clenched shut and his robes soaked through with sweat, his lips fluttered like the wings of a hummingbird as he strove to combat dread with faith. Perhaps the martial artist underestimated the monk; to hold his ground at a time like this bespoke a bravery that few hardened soldiers could hope to match.

Liè Fèng waited patiently as his companion whispered his prayers. A seeming eternity later, the prayers slowed, then stopped. Finally, the monk lifted his chin, a resolute expression etched on his face.

“Great Hé Lóng!” the youth’s voice rang out with surprising force, echoing across the surface of the lake. The monk then dropped to his knees, raising his arms into the air. “I prostrate myself unto you in veneration! Please, accept this humble gift from the gathered Lords of this region!”

Silence lingered for a moment… Was the great beast still slumbering? Could it even hear the cried plea from the bottom of the lake? Perhaps-

The bundle of rope in his hands grew slack, and he turned to look in surprise as the herd of horses calmed as one. He felt it himself, an instant later, as the oppressive miasma hanging over them dissipated like dew in the morning sun. A calm settled over the entire lake. Beyond calm; the winds died, the waves stilled, the world itself seemed to draw in a breath in anticipation. The surface, now perfectly still, became like glass, allowing him to see clearly to the very bottom of the fathomless lake.

The tableau, a living painting of unearthly beauty, lasted for a single second, and then he saw it. Like a bolt of lightning racing from ground to sky, a flash of gold surged from the bottom of the lake. Before he could blink a geyser exploded, showering the entire beach with steaming water.

Hé Lóng. Greater than he had imagined, the colossal beast towered over them. Even still half submerged, the dragon’s shadow blotted out the sun as it loomed. Comparatively short arms, but still as thick as tree trunks, slammed to the beach; wickedly curving claws, shining and slender like a farmer’s scythe dug deeply into the soil. Majestic horns, twin spires of twisted gold, topped the beast’s mammoth head, as his long beard and whiskers nearly brushed the shore.

The eyes, though, glittered like twin topazes larger than a bull’s head. Beautiful, yet sharp, piercing and searching; these eyes saw all, more than any human could fathom. Liè Fèng could feel Hé Lóng’s gaze, as if it were placing his soul on a scale and taking his measure, even as they stood motionless.

The Great Dragon studied the scene for a long moment. A young man, now bowed penitent before it. An aging man, one arm held behind his back and his other holding a bundle of rope. And, finally, twelve horses of magnificent breeding. The horses stood still as statues and Liè Fèng had no idea if they were still calm, or simply too terrified to even run.

Unsure why, he found himself holding his breath. To disturb this moment almost felt like heresy… and to think he had mocked the idea of this new god of the valley.

The ground shook as the beast’s foot slammed to the ground, drawing it forward and out of the water. More of the dragon’s sinuous body was revealed as it strode forward with unhurried grace, its movements nearly poetry to the master martial artist’s eyes. Despite having a snakelike form, its body was still taller than three men standing on each other’s shoulders; and yet it moved as fluidly as the water it slept in. Torrents of lake water spilled from its glittering golden scales, like thousands of interlocking shields.

Unconsciously, he let out his held breath, as Hé Lóng passed between himself and the prostrated monk, arrowing directly towards their ‘offering’. As he had thought, great and powerful, for certain, but still a simple animal. Drawn to the most tempting prey available. Even for a beast of such legendary proportions, a feast of a dozen horses of finest pedigree should be enough to sate its hunger.

And with its hunger sated, perhaps it would cease to send its children to attack the nearby villages? Perhaps, in time, with a steady stream of livestock from across the empire, they could tame this great dragon entirely. True, it was a terrible beast, but the empire was vast, and could easily supply enough to keep these pernicious dragons happy and fat.

Far from ideal, but better than the alternatives of leaving them to ravage the land, or spend countless lives trying to drive them out completely.

Liè Fèng almost convinced himself of the justness of their actions, to the pragmatism of the monk’s solution. He had almost believed his own thoughts… until Hé Lóng lunged forward, its maw opening unimaginably wide and revealing jagged teeth longer than his arm. It snapped up the first horse whole, lifting the entire animal from the ground and tossing it high into the air before clamping its jaws on it once more.

The shower of blood and anguished cries of the damned horse shattered the false lull, merely the calm before the storm. Instantly, the remaining horses reared up as one, pulling with strength beyond simple muscle, nearly pulling the ropes from his hand. Liè Fèng’s heart echoed with theirs, outrage surging through him; fighting instinct and warrior’s spirit flared to life. Desire to strike this debased predator down coursed through his veins and the bundled ropes in his hands burst into a cloud of fine threads.

Instantly, Hé Lóng’s vast head swung in his direction, faster than sense would dictate such a behemoth should move. Damn! He had lost himself, and just as the horses before, the dragon sensed his killing intent, even though he had no real thought to attack. Topaz eyes burned with fury, and he knew that it was too late; there was no explaining his mind to a mere beast.

Resigning himself to fate, Liè Fèng, once known as Master Mountain Splitter, settled into a familiar stance, summoning the full force of his spirit for the first time in over a decade. The loose soil of the shore sunk down with a low ‘thud’ which reverberated across the surface of the lake, as if a great weight had been dropped where his feet touched sand.

“Flee!” he shouted at the monk, now scrabbling backwards, wildly kicking up patches of mud as he flailed away from the dragon between them. “Ride!”

That word seemed to pierce the wild panic that gripped the monk’s mind, and moving with speed borne of raw terror, he overtook one of the rearing horses and leapt upon its back.

The Great Dragon spun again, taking notice of the fleeing animals and their lone rider. Rearing back one of its tree sized arms, it lashed out at the fleeing monks back. Claws that would sever horse and rider like silk whistled through the air; and an explosion of earth blasted out as they struck home…

The dust settled a moment later, revealing Liè Fèng standing between the fleeing monk and the enraged dragon. Hands held out, the muscles of his arms chording like coiled steel, grasped the extended talons of the dragon’s outstretched hand. Impossibly, he played the immovable object to the unstoppable force of nature.

He gave thanks to the actual gods, as horse and rider rode away with all speed. His relief was short lived, as his feet began to cut deep trenches in the soft dirt, the dragon’s awesome might pushing him back even as he strove to plant himself like the roots of the mountain itself.

Hé Lóng’s long muzzle curled menacingly as a guttural growl rolled up its long throat. Instinct saved the old martial artist’s life as he threw himself back a second before its claws snapped closed with the sound of steel grating on steel.

And then the battle was joined. With bestial fury Hé Lóng lunged forward, fangs leading the charge. Liè Fèng did not back down, instead he lifted his foot, only to slam it to the ground. A burst of golden light burst out from where his foot impacted the loose soil, and wet sand and mud was scattered to the wind, revealing solid bedrock beneath. His strike was so heavy, an entire section of the ancient stone cracked with a sound like thunder, before the massive slab tilted madly, sinking beneath his foot, even as the far end swung up into the air, catching Hé Lóng right in its snarling face.

Thunder sounded again, as the great beast plowed through the outcropping of primal stone as if it were a child’s sandcastle.

He had less than a second to cross his arms before him before the dragon dipped its head and glimmering horns promising death slammed into him. His entire body was rocked, and he was sent hurtling through the air. He tumbled wildly, slamming through trees and rock outcroppings before he finally righted himself and dug in his heels. He skidded for another dozen yards before finally bringing himself to a stop.

Looking down his arms trembled from the impact, and the sleeves of his robes had been shredded. Lacerations covered his arms from the sharp ridges that covered the dragon’s vicious horns. Such power! Not since the ending of the war had he faced such unparalleled might. And, studying his opponent, over a hundred meters now separating them, he had no doubt what he had felt was only a fraction of its full potential.

Gritting his teeth, he tore off the bloodied rags that remained of his robe and focused him mind. Spirit, body, and mind, they needed to be as one, unified, or all was lost. He could not afford to let fear taint his thoughts.

Putting one foot before the next, he walked forward, then jogged, before breaking into a full sprint. Gouts of earth were blasted up from his passage as he surged forward faster than most men could see. Fist clenched tightly at his side, he closed the distance in the blink of an eye.

He ducked and twisted, sliding with a shower of earth and mud, beneath a slashing claw moving fast enough to crack the air. A second later, his legs kicked out with all their might, shattering the ground and launching him into the air faster than an arrow.

His fist slammed into Hé Lóng’s wide underbelly with a fury born from all the injustice this beast had unleased on the innocents of the Valley. A shockwave blasted outwards, sending waves rolling out across the surface of the lake. The mammoth, serpentine body of the dragon was lifted into the air as it began to fall backwards like a felled tree-

Except it did not fall back. Rather, Hé Lóng rose ever higher into the sky, coiling around itself with its long, sinuous body – of course he could fly – only for the serpentine dragon to suddenly uncoil itself, moving with inhuman speed. Liè Fèng couldn’t even follow, his vision filled with glittering gold as a tail, thicker than he was tall, cracked into him with the cutting force of a whip wielded by a god.

Everything went black for a seeming eternity, only to be replaced by frantically oscillating blues, one pale like the sky, the other dark like the ocean. The spray of water as he clipped the crest of a wave brought him back to his senses and let him know where he was. Skipping across the lake like a perfectly shaped stone, Liè Fèng twisted around to reorient himself again. His chest burned, and each breath was shorter than the last, but he paid the pain no mind.

Twin walls of water reached towards the heavens as he dug his heels into the lake’s surface to slow himself. Before he could fall beneath the waves, the aging master twisted about, and his legs blurred beneath him. This time he came around in a wide arc, leaving a frothing white wake behind as he ran across the surface of the water.

What a fool I am! What was he doing? He could not match strength with a beast such as this. But a beast was all it was. It was cunning, true, like a fox, but even the cleverest animal could be outmaneuvered. However, he dare not hold anything back. His last strike, mighty as it had been, hadn’t even scratched Hé Lóng’s impregnable hide.

An all or nothing gambit, then. The thought almost brought a smile to his face, drawing his mind back to a place far away and far in the past.

The Great Dragon soared to meet him, too impatient to wait for him to reach land. With a great swing of his arm, he lifted his hand before him and an unseen force carved into the lake itself, lifting a massive wave towards the sky. He didn’t even slow, sprinting at full speed up the newly created staircase, his feet moving too fast for the raging waters to catch him.

At the peak of the watery mountain, Liè Fèng flung himself into the air, soaring madly at the great serpent that hurtled towards him. Again, Hé Lóng curled up on himself, a massive coil of muscle and sinew, but when the tail lashed out at him again, he was able to reach out and lightly slap the scaled hide of the beast, pushing himself just above the deadly limb.

He hurtled into the dragon’s chest, but this time. with hands formed like steel spades, he stabbed his fingers between two of the golden scales. Taking an agonizing breath, he pulled back with the might he had forged through the darkest years of the war. Squealing like steel being twisted by a blacksmith, the scales cracked and bent, a jet of dark blood spraying out to stain his robes near black.

Hé Lóng gave a thunderous roar, then twisted and spun in the air, so fast that it nearly sent him flying, even with his hands buried deep into the monster’s flesh. His shoulders nearly popped out of their sockets as his body was sent bouncing back and forth from its wild struggles. Refusing to let go, he marshalled his strength and slammed his feet to the dragon’s chest, then used the leverage to pull even harder on the pair of scales, each over two feet in diameter, widening the gap and spraying more blood into the air.

Instincts sounded like a horn at the back of his mind, and he leapt away, releasing his grasp on the now twisted and shattered scales. He was too slow, as he felt agony surge up his leg. Refusing to acknowledge the pain, he looked down to see two of Hé Lóng’s scythe like claws piercing his leg, pinioning him in the air.

The Great Dragon ceased its frantic aerial roll, only to lift him slowly up until he was nearly eye level. The hatred in its topaz gaze was palpable, threatening to freeze his heart with terror. It was then, that he noticed Hé Lóng’s chest begin to glow, a bright cherry red. The glow grew brighter, rising from the beast’s chest and lighting up its long, serpentine neck. The aging warrior had no doubt what this display heralded.

Liè Fèng smiled, widely and with true sincerity. This battle reminded him of another, long ago; perhaps the most important fight of his entire life, and the echo of that fight almost made him laugh.

With a swing of arms, both trailing broad fans of golden light, his leg was snipped off at the knee, and he began to plummet. Away from Hé Lóng’s hideous face, and out of reach of his killing claws, Lie Fang fell to where he had split the beast’s armor wide open. His smile grew wider. What was a god to a man?

Reaching back, he focused the entirety of his fighting spirit into his right hand, a nimbus like a star flaring to life around his limb.

“Mountain Rending Strike!”

Moving faster than the eye could follow, his hand tore through the air, the hells themselves shrieking at its passage, and an arc of blinding golden light was birthed in the rupture he tore in the sky. The air rippled and howled as the guillotine of his soul descended on Hé Lóng. Even a god would be taught why he was named Mountain Splitter!

A spray of water and a flash of gold, moving to fast to follow, distracted him as his ultimate attack connected, and the world vanished into blinding white.

Still blind, he felt something slam into his side, then wrap around him with impossible strength. Even if he had his full strength, all of which he had poured into his last, desperate, attack, he would not have been able to break the grip now trapping him.

Slowly, blinking painfully, Liè Fèng’s vision returned to him. At first blurry, the world came back into focus, revealing a sight that shocked the old master to his core.

Hé Lóng released the pair of smaller dragons that had surged out of the water at the last second to throw themselves bodily before their master. The severed remains of the dead beasts - both had been over twenty feet in length before being halved - dropped down to vanish beneath the waves below.

Liè Fèng could only stare, dumbfounded. A long line scored the length of Hé Lóng’s body, from now ruined eye to tail, but the hole he had carved in the dragon's armor remained untouched. The most lethal attack he had ever devised, blunted at the last moment by the bodies of its kin. But - but such a defense… these were not the actions of mindless beasts!

He looked up to match Hé Lóng’s gaze; the Great Dragon pierced him with its remaining eye, but he now saw something that he had not before, something that had been hidden from him.

The mammoth beast’s muzzle curled into a vile mockery of a smile, and Liè Fèng felt true despair.

“You should be more wary who you call an ‘unthinking beast’.”

Hé Lóng opened its maw fully, and the sun itself spilled forth.

. o O o .

Jīn Shān snapped to wakefulness, pulled from her sleep with a gasp. The young woman stared at the unfamiliar ceiling above her; they had only arrived the day prior, after all, and the lavish room did not suit her simple tastes.

Sitting up slowly, the slender girl sleepily brushed long blonde hair out of her face. What was this feeling in her chest? And what had roused her? It wasn’t even light out, the only light coming from a few dimmed lamps at the far corners of the room.

Looking around, she found her vision drawn to the extravagant nightstand set beside the overstuffed bed her Mistress had planted her in. Confusion filled her as she looked at the odd sight. Still somewhat leaning against the lamp on the nightstand was her favorite hair comb, a simple wooden token that had been given to her years ago.

Except, the cherished memento had somehow snapped in half. It had likely been the sound of the wooden halves clattering to the nightstand that had awoken her in the first place.

Reaching out, her hands beginning to tremble for a reason she couldn’t understand, Jīn Shān picked up the two halves of the comb and held them to her chest. Against reason, something twisted in her chest, and she felt tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

“M…Master?”