Xiào Kuáng Juàn had barely barked the order for attack as he drew his sword. He knew full well that Shāng Bù Huàn and his little posse wouldn't go without a fight. But the musician. Làng Wū Yáo was another story. Xiào had practically pushed Làng's face into the dirt as he stepped on him to gain his very high position. It was hardly a challenge at the time, the musician barely with a will of his own.

But this one standing before him, the red-clad musician with a talking pipa. This Làng was disappointingly different. He'd become stubborn, no doubt after being kidnapped by that villain Shāng. The Sword-plundering Nemesis must've put some ideas into the pushover bard's head and turned him against the empire in a fruitless hunt for sorcerous swords that didn't belong to them.

Claiming that reward for himself would be more difficult than he'd hoped.

Làng would need to be beaten into submission again, then the princess would have her songbird and Xiào would have a massive reward.

Shāng glanced at the Hunting Fox who hadn't taken his eyes off Làng once. Normally it was Shāng himself that took all the attention with his supposedly villainous reputation as the Sword-plundering Nemesis but today was different. That Fox truly wanted the reward for himself, didn't he?

He noticed Làng was returning the stare. Làng had been through a lot, constantly being used as a sharpened blade, and the Hunting Fox had used him to further his own position. Just thinking about how much Xiào had used Làng just ticked Shāng off. He could only imagine how much Làng himself was ticked off about it.

"We'll take care of the small fry." Shāng placed a hand on Làng's shoulder. "And leave the Fox to you."

Làng nodded as Shāng and Mù Tiān Mìng took opposite sides.

Shāng withdrew his sword, the force of his qi blasting leaves off the nearby tree. The imperials didn't flinch. They never did, set on their ways of serving the empire. Perhaps they didn't realize the evils of the empire. Perhaps it was just easier. It wasn't something he thought about much, though each life he slayed always weighed on him.

He glanced around. The civilians had fled for cover, leaving a clear open field for them to fight in. He'd rather avoid more civilian bodies piling up than already were with that sonic sword still floating around.

"Don't suppose you'd prefer dumplings over a fight, huh," Shāng said.

"Get him!" the imperials shouted.

Not that he honestly expected a different answer. He was still hungry, but food could come after a fight. A wide arching slash of his sword took the heads clean off the closest imperials. This would be an easy task had it not been the sheer number Xiào had taken with him. Turning his sword, he jammed it into the ground. The qi shockwave pushed them backwards and into the nearby pots along the walls.

On the opposite side, Mù pulled the strings of her guqin to fire off razor sonic attacks, slicing off several arms. A quick shift in her stance, she pulled the blade from the top of the guqin, jamming it between the ribs of the pair who attempted to attack her from behind.

Làng stood in between his two companions. Before him was Xiào along with a handful of imperials who hadn't split off to fight the other two.

Xiào snickered. "So they left you alone, hm?"

Làng didn't honor the remark with a verbal reply. He knew what they were doing and trusted them to back him up if he needed. He would do the same. In his battle with Shāng, he understood the man's fighting style much more clearly. He knew Mù's from the battle at the palace. He'd fought alongside both at the old master's house when the Index was first made. The more he stayed with them, the more he realized this as a truth. They had his back, and he had theirs.

The imperials approached swords drawn and swinging at him. The musician easily dodged each one, jamming a foot or the pipa into each one and sending them flying. They were no more a threat than the ones at the palace. Their numbers might be troubling but with the other two thinning them out, he focused on the Hunting Fox.

Làng pulled the pipa's strings, the sonic attacks singing out over the sounds of battle. Xiào used the soldiers as a shield, letting them take the brunt of the attack while he remained unharmed.

"What a slimy bastard!" Líng Yá remarked. Not that Làng would expect anything less from the Fox anyway. Xiào had no problem using the people around him, Làng himself included.

The musician had no hesitation about taking out the imperials, especially if that meant he could focus his attention on Xiào after them. They were meaningless soldiers with evil in their hearts. He dropped Líng Yá to the ground, a soundwave shooting out in all directions. It sliced the posters hanging on the wall behind him and shattered the leaves on the nearby bushes. The soldiers before him didn't fare much better.

Shāng recognized the sound, leaping upward and letting the soundwave handle the closest soldiers. Perhaps that spar with Làng did him some good with sounds. He landed back down, finding more soldiers had taken the fallen ones' places. He was starting to wonder where they all came from. Perhaps there were more soldiers here than ordinary civilians in this town.

Mù found the same result on her side. Xiào was certainly trying to overwhelm them. She turned, firing off several sonic blasts and slicing the soldiers that had broken away from her group with the intent on attacking Làng.

Làng sidestepped the flying bodies as he placed his hand on the top of the pipa.

"Líng Yá, transform!" The pipa turned into sword form as Làng took him to his hand.

The musician leapt forward, slashing downward and forcing Xiào to fight him directly. The Fox withdrew his serrated sword, blocking the attack. They exchanged several blows, the attacks pushing Xiào backward. The Fox knew what damage that sword could cause, particularly in the hands of someone who literally was a supernatural sword, so perhaps a different approach was necessary.

"That villain Shāng Bù Huàn truly has changed you for the worse," Xiào mocked Làng.

The musician scowled at the Fox. Shāng had in a sense changed him but not for the worse. He opened Làng's eyes to the possibility of doing something good with his voice and his supernatural abilities. Mù had told him the words that he needed to hear, that he wasn't just a blade but someone with a heart and soul. They helped him understand he could actually be something more than someone everyone else stepped on to further their own desires.

The Fox withdrew a blade from his robes as he grinned. Làng quickly drove his boot into Xiào, pushing him backwards as he forced a separation between them. Làng landed, driving his heel into the ground as he flung Líng Yá upward, transforming him back to pipa form. Catching Líng Yá, Làng pulled the strings and flung several sonic blasts at the Fox.

The blasts struck the Fox, throwing him backwards into a hut. He pushed himself out of the rubble, seething at how this bard had managed to counter him. And now his robe was ripped. Did he not realize how expensive it was to repair this? He would pay for those costs with the bounty on his songbird head.

Làng leapt forward, pipa in hand as he drove it towards the Fox. Xiào blocked with his sword, though the impact pushed the Fox back nearly into the broken hut again.

Làng heard the footsteps of soldiers behind him, their blades drawn with the intent of overwhelming him in battle. A blast of qi carrying a bamboo bench barreled behind the musician, taking them out easily.

"Do you truly think they're your friends, Làng Wū Yáo?" Xiào smirked. "They're protecting their blade, just so you can fight their battles for them."

"You're full of crap!" Líng Yá hissed as Làng attempted to drive the pipa forward.

"You were much better off with the princess," the Fox continued. "Meals, a place to perform, a roof always over your head. How could you willingly give that up in exchange for being a sword-stealing accomplice and vagabond!"

"Enough!" Làng didn't want to hear any more of this. He drove his heel into Xiào's chest, pushing him to the ground. Repeatedly he stomped on him until the Fox wasn't moving anymore. He wasn't dead, but he'd definitely wake up with a cracked rib or two. He could kill him right there, drive Líng Yá as a blade right through his heart, but he didn't. This man would cause them so many problems. Làng could just feel it.

He had the pipa held above the Hunting Fox, ready to slam the instrument down into his unconscious form, but instead he turned and fired off several sonic attacks, taking out several of the soldiers attempting to sneak up on Mù.

If he killed Xiào right here, he would be taking revenge for how much hell Xiào put him through. He'd be no better than the empire, and that was a path he did not want to take. Shāng and Mù once told him about the cycle of revenge and why they stole swords instead of giving them to the opposition. It was a cycle of death Làng didn't want to be entangled in with his own experiences. Instead Làng could use Líng Yá against more deserving targets, namely Yīn Xiàtiān and her destructive swords.

The remaining imperials soon fell, leaving a bloody battlefield in their wake. The civilians were cowering behind walls and huts, afraid that the group would turn against them as well.

"I definitely don't think the Hunting Fox will be bothering us for awhile," Shāng observed as he sheathed his sword. "That'll give us plenty of time to find Yīn Xiàtiān and seal those swords." He stared down at Xiào's battered, unmoving form. "Are you okay with just leaving him here like this?"

Làng nodded. While he hadn't killed Xiào, he had to admit it felt good to give the Hunting Fox a piece of his mind in the form of a boot jammed into his ribcage. Làng was his own blade and no one else's, not even the empire's. And right now, that blade decided there were more important matters at hand, particularly those destructive sorcerous swords and the assassin who had them in her possession.