The Sorrowful Soul hit him through the swarm of cicadas. Shāng Bù Huàn felt it reverberate through his body, twisting his mind and heart into a knot. Even as many battles as he'd seen with dangerous swords, this one definitely was the worst. It was planting thoughts in his mind that weren't his own. They were dark and malicious thoughts he knew he would never have otherwise, but they felt like an uncontrollable urge. He felt like his body was shaking, the grip on his sword so tight that he thought his hand might bleed.

Desperate women with dangerous swords were indeed a bad combination.

Yīn Xiàtiān laughed shrilly, tapping the sonic sword on her shoulder as she observed her handiwork. "Well well well, the great sword hunter taken down by a single sword swipe! Why didn't I think of it sooner!" It was a brilliant plan. She could have Shāng carry out the battle while she regenerated her strength by focusing on the cicadas alone. That other musician chick was nearly down anyway, so she hardly would be a threat.

Làng Wū Yáo grit his teeth. This went from bad to worse fast. Handling the strain on his voice was one thing, facing off against his friend was another. He knew from the spar that Shāng was stronger, his qi mastery much more refined. And that was when Shāng was holding back.

Làng sprang to his feet, leaping away from the damaged land. He couldn't hear the sounds of Mù fighting beyond the cicadas anymore, but he had to focus on the new problem. Shāng's steps were uneasy and strained as he turned his attention to Làng, but there was something off.

There was no malice.

The Sorrowful Soul incited malice in whoever it struck, and Shāng didn't show signs of it. He was fighting against it, his steps staggered as he grasped his shoulder. His head was down, his long hair falling into his face. He gripped his wooden sword tightly with his other hand as he whipped it backwards into a battle stance, the qi knocking the shattered trees back towards the pathway.

Just how long could Shāng fight the effects before he truly turned against his new friend?

"I wonder what he really thinks of you, my dear Wū Yáo~" Yīn Xiàtiān taunted. "Does he wish to have your song for himself? Perhaps he despises you for the trouble you must attract with your voice. Are you willing to take that risk or will you kill him yourself?"

Làng tightened his grip on Líng Yá. In the short time he'd known Shāng, he knew that to not be true. He sensed the good in his companion, even if they had first fought as enemies. Shāng had said some harsh words after that, called him a supernatural blade much like the swords he sought to seal, and it was true. That's what Làng really was. But when he had said it, there was no malice behind his words, and he was happy when Làng had chosen to come out of the mountains and fight alongside them.

Shāng and Mù had helped Làng when he needed it the most, when his ear was assaulted by a cicada screaming loudly. Anyone else would've abandoned him and left him to die. Right now, they needed Làng's help in return.

Nothing Yīn said would convince him otherwise despite the qi slash now barrelling towards him. Làng knew how Shāng fought. He'd sparred with him in that mountain thicket. Right now, Shāng was absolutely restraining his movements.

But even restrained, Shāng's movements had such power behind them as he dashed forward, striking several times at Làng. Each time, the musician blocked the attack with the pipa.

Làng swung at him with a kick to try to force separation. Each time he could push Shāng backwards, but his friend was right back with another attack. Làng dodged the swipes, almost finding himself struck in the gut by an elbow just like he was in the forest. This one packed a lot more qi behind it than in the spar, and a strike could explode his insides.

Shāng was losing control.

Làng dodged another sword blast, leaping into the air. But even under the sword's influence, Shang was crafty in battle. He grasped the edges of Làng's robes and pulled him back to the ground.

Làng pushed him away, using his foot to create separation and fire off a few sonic blasts. "Wake up!" He had to find a way to awaken his friend. He still wasn't certain how the Sorrowful Soul affected someone or if Shāng actually could wake up, but he'd be damned if he didn't try. There had to be a way to reverse its effects, and right now, singing wasn't exactly an option. Shang wasn't affected by his supernatural voice.

"He's not letting up!" Líng Yá warned.

Like he hadn't noticed. Làng frowned as Shāng dashed forward once more. He struck several times, Làng blocking with the pipa each time. The strikes were sharp and Làng felt the qi shoot past him with each movement. Deflecting them was becoming harder and harder, each one threatening to crack Líng Yá at the seams. Làng shifted his stance, deflecting the next attack and swiping at Shāng's arm with the pipa, pushing him backwards.

Shāng skidded to a stop before leaping forward once again. He suddenly sheathed his sword, grasping Làng's collar tightly.

"Làng... get… get the sword..." Shāng's words were strained as he attempted to focus on Làng standing before him. His vision felt blurred, leaving him to blink far too often as he withdrew his sword once again and swung at the musician. His body felt like it was moving on its own.

It wasn't as though Shāng was giving him much opportunity to get the Sorrowful Soul. Làng dodged several more attacks, kicking Shāng's hand away to try to divert the swipes. Shāng's movements were strained and hesitant once again, keeping one hand on his sword and one hand on his shoulder.

That was it, wasn't it? He was manipulating his own qi to try to stave off the sword's effects.

Làng deflected the next attack by infusing Líng Yá with healing qi and driving the pipa sharply into Shāng's shoulder and throwing him several yards back. He knew it would hurt, but it was the best chance they had. Dropping Líng Yá, he transformed the pipa into sword form and leapt up into the sky. It was rare he used such techniques, especially after how much qi he'd already exerted with using his voice as a shield, but he knew this was a last resort. He twisted in the air, fire erupting around him like phoenix wings. "Firebird in the blue sky!" The attack swirled around him, frying any nearby cicadas that attempted to encroach on him.

"No no no!" Yīn screamed. "You were supposed to be crushed by the weight of your friend trying to murder you!"

"What a crappy plan!" Líng Yá jeered in sword form. "If you really knew either of them, you'd know it failed from the start!"

Làng had to agree. It was all resting on the idea that Shāng actually had malice in his soul. The sword had managed to coerce him, but Shāng still wasn't the malicious sort at all. He was even hesitant to kill evil people at times, something that Làng was certain would cause problems for them in the future.

Up in the air, Làng delivered several sonic slashes, the sound of his movements manifesting as a visible trail. They sliced right through the cicadas and Yīn's arm.

Feeling the sword's effects leave him, Shāng quickly dove for the sword, barely catching it before it disappeared into the ravine. He sighed in relief, gingerly rubbing at his shoulder. Làng certainly knew how to land a sharp hit when he meant it. Shāng was starting to wonder how much Làng was holding back in that thicket spar.

"I will not lose my songbird!" Yīn declared, raising the sonic sword over her head. She then sputtered, blood pouring down her chest. "A blade?" She stared shocked at her chest then back at Làng. He didn't deal the final blow, did he? It came from behind.

That musician girl. That damn interferer! Yīn turned, prepared to throw one last attack at her until she found another blade had been driven through her. He'd approached so quickly when she was distracted, driving his pipa blade right through her heart. "My…. my beautiful bard…."

Làng pried the sonic blade from her hand.

Yīn drew a hand along his face, tracing his soft features. "I'm glad I could hear your song one last time." With blood pouring from her wounds, she fell downward into the ravine, the wall of cicadas following and dispersing deep below.

Làng landed with the sonic sword in hand. He didn't feel sorry for her at all, and why should he? Her heart had been filled with so much evil and malice, it clouded her judgments. She had become obsessive and reckless, and that was the ultimate cause of her demise.

Mù landed next to Làng, peering down the ravine. "No one could've survived that. I suppose she died hearing you sing after all."

Làng wrinkled his nose. He didn't want to give her the pleasure, but in the end, she did actually get what she wanted.

Mù and Làng helped Shāng to his feet, the latter driving some more healing qi into Shāng's shoulder. The wound from the Sorrowful Soul healed, though Shāng still felt the sting of the pipa being driven into it.

"Let's get rid of these terrible swords, yes?" Mù suggested.

"Couldn't agree more." With a quick spell, Shāng brought forth the Index, rolling it out on the ground.

They set the two swords beside it. What trouble these two swords had caused across the southern border region. Crushed towns, inexplicable brawls, unbridled malice. Then there was the battle they just had that took nearly everything they had to win.

"Good riddance!" Líng Yá commented as Shāng drew the sonic sword into the brush, carefully dripping the ink onto the Index. "Though you have all these swords at your disposal! Why not use just one? That would've made the battle a hell of a lot easier!"

"What's to say if we started using them we wouldn't end up like Yīn Xiàtiān?" Shāng replied. "Would we fall to their lure? Become reliant upon them? Or would we be like the empire and use them for malice."

"You are not evil," Làng pointed out.

Shāng laughed as he pulled the Sorrowful Soul into the brush. "Sorcerous swords like this are dangerous. They can change a person, usually for the worst. If we started using them as tools, even for the good of Xī Yōu, we would be no better than the empire or the people who used you as a blade to empower themselves."

There were so many people who used him as a supernatural blade to gain things. Money, promotions, entertainment. It was always about them, leaving nothing for Làng himself in the end. "This blade knows much better now," Làng asserted, referring to himself.

"And we're full glad of it," Shāng agreed, rolling up the scroll. Finally, both swords were sealed and two fewer swords in the hands of the true villains of Xī Yōu. He flicked the scroll away, peering at Làng, who smiled but also looked a bit flustered.

"You're gonna make this guy blush with words like that!" Líng Yá insisted, a statement quickly confirmed by Làng shutting him up.

...

Author's musings

I like to think that Shang really has 0 evil in his body. Lang looked really suprised when he saw Shang's face for the first time, like he realized this instantly with his sense of good and evil. I don't think even a sword can change Shang's true nature, much to Yin's disappointment. He's honestly just a big sarcastic goober.