THE FORTUNIST

52. Lay

“The Twin Mountains is halved between its two earrings.”

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Feng does not look like the once vibrant heir to House Lemohn. His face is haggard and sunken in, a dirty horrible smell also emits from him— the scent of decaying blood. His usually twinkly eyes are dull and the badlighting from a sky full of stars but no moon makes him look like a ghost that wandered from the Tai Forest.

Ciara's eyes automatically soften after fully taking Feng in. Even Lay cannot hide his own expression of mortification. "My, you are a wreck," Ciara says, her voice barely above a whisper.

Feng gives the duo a sickening smile, his teeth are surprisingly white. "If I had said it was me, you wouldn't come."

"You are the one who sent that note, not Denpo." Ciara scowls at the realisation. Lay might be able to guess what she is thinking. Of course she would come. This was the man that had sent them on a daring adventure to the palace and back.

Feng nudges his head at Lay. "Why is he here?"

"He's my champion," Ciara retorts. Lay moves even closer to offer her the assurance of his presence as Ciara tells Feng that whatever  he has to say he can say.

Feng chuckles. "You might regret that."

"I won't," Ciara says confidently, head proudly held high.

"Very well," Feng shrugs, "thugs are coming for your commoner girlfriend Lay. They will take her where no one will see and hide her in a shady prison. There, they will ask her to summon the Fortunist."

Ciara is frightfully calm. "You sent me that other message then. The one with the ants."

"I assume you ignored it."

"We didn't," Lay cuts in brusquely, "we understood what your message entailed."

"You understood?" Feng scoffs in annoyance. "Then why are the both of you still here? Do you think winning the tournament will cause the Fortunist to save you? You don't need the Fortunist through winning a tournament, you are a gifted summoner Ciara Mulden did you know? Seeing as you are quiet you must have, your boyfriend must have too. But wait, I'm not stupid. You are the banea. The very one that promised to summon the Fortunist for this year's winner."

"You look sick Feng, I think you should…"

"Shut up." Feng looks furious, "he should have taken you."

Ciara shoots Lay an alarmed look as he slips to her front. He cannot begin to imagine what Feng must have gone through in Xihan's hands.

"How did you escape?" Lay asks with a level tone.

Feng ignores him, moving towards the practice weapons forte. He pulls out two practice swords and tosses one at Ciara. "Fight me."

"I can't."

"You can't or you won't? Don't you dare take that sword Lay. My business is not with you. Maybe your shoes can fit after all. Maybe you just need a bit more polishing but why should you let her take the credit? What makes you think she deserves it?"

"Don't worry Lay," Ciara tells him, "I can handle him." She slips into fighting stance. "One question though Feng, what's the point of this fight?"

"Win," Feng answers, "and I'll let your champion proceed to finals. Lose and I'll fight your champion. If he loses as well, I'll take his place in the finals."

"Champion," Ciara says softly, "please officiate."

Soon the fight begins.

Feng attacks with no hesitation but Ciara takes advantage of his apparent weakness and immediately pushes him back on the defensive.