kill me, so be it. I’ll just let them come and kill me. Master doesn’t want me anymore and has expelled me from the Huashan School. So what? I’ll simply wander about alone by myself.”

At that thought, he couldn’t help but feeling righteous ardor surging up his throat, making him thirsty. All he wanted to do now was to drink a few dozens of strong liquor, and the thoughts about life, death, school or faction were all cast behind his back. At the instant, even Yue Lingshan, the one he had always borne in mind constantly, seemed to have become a complete stranger. Getting back onto his feet, he knelt down in front of Fang-Zheng and Fang-Sheng and then kowtowed respectfully. Believing that he had made up his mind to join the Shaolin School, Fang-Zheng and Fang-Sheng both revealed a smiling face.

“Since I am not even wanted by my own Master, I am too shamed to join another school. I can’t thank the two Great Masters enough for your great kindness and mercy. Please accept my farewell,” Linghu Chong stood up and declared in a loud voice.

Fang-Zheng was astounded, having not expected this young man to show no fear of death.

“Young hero, this matter concerns your life and death. Please don’t be swayed by personal feelings,” Fang-Sheng persuaded sincerely.

But Linghu Chong only replied with a burst of laughter. Turning on his heels, he walked out of the room. With his chest filled with grievance, his steps became unexpectedly nimble, and he went out of the Shaolin Temple in big strides.

As soon as he stepped out of the temple, feeling of desolation welled up in his heart. Looking up into the sky he laughed, thinking, “All the orthodox members consider me a vital enemy, while all the heretical members want to kill me. Linghu Chong most likely won’t even make it to the end of the day. I’d like to see who would be the one taking away my life.”

He checked his pockets. There was no money in his pocket, no sword by his waistband, and even the short zither given to him as a present by Ying-Ying was nowhere to be seen. It wouldn’t have been overstating to say that by then he owned nothing in this world and had not a concern any anything whatsoever.

He began walking down Mount Songshan. At the time of dusk, he was already far from the Shaolin Temple. The walk exhausted him and also made him feel very hungry.

“Where should I go about finding something to eat?” he thought to himself.

Suddenly, sounds of footsteps thumped as seven or eight men ran toward him in quick steps from the west. All of them were dressed up in tight robes, their weapons tying to their backs.

“If you want to kill me, it’s better that you attack now, so as to save me the trouble of looking for food. Even if I eat my fill I am going to get killed anyway. Why hold the candle to the sun?” Linghu Chong thought to himself.

Stopping at the middle of the road, he stood, arms akimbo, and shouted, “Linghu Chong is right here! Go ahead! Come and kill me!”

But quite to his surprise, when these men ran by him, they simply cast a quick glance at him before making a detour around him.

“This man is a retard,” one man muttered.

“Right! We’d better not let unnecessary incidents delay the more important matter,” another man answered.

“It’ll be terrible if we let him get away,” a third man said.

Only moments later, the group of men had run into the distance.

“Turns out that they are after somebody else,” Linghu Chong thought to himself.

Just when the sounds of footsteps from those men finally died down, sounds of hoof beats suddenly rose from the west, and soon five horses galloped by him like a gust of wind. After the horses had dashed out another one hundred feet or so, one of the horses turned around all of a sudden. The rider was a middle-aged woman.

“Excuse me, mister, you didn’t happen to see an old man in a white robe, did you? He is quite thin and tall, and also carries a scimitar by his waist,” she asked.

“No, I didn’t.” Linghu Chong shook his head.

Without another word, the woman turned the horse around and raced after the other four riders.

“Well, it seems that they are pursuing an old man in a white robe. I don’t have anything to do, anyway. I might as well just go watch the fun,” Linghu Chong thought to himself, and at that thought, he began walking toward the east.

He walked for about half an hour when another group of men, over a dozen of them, caught up with him in a small trot and then went past him.

“Howdy, bro, did you happen to see an old man in a white robe? He is quite thin and tall and has a scimitar by his waist,” a man in his fifties turned his head back and asked.

“No, I didn’t,” Linghu Chong answered.

After another while, when he arrived at a fork in the road, sounds of horse bells[4] rose from the northwest corner as three horses dashed along the road at high speed. All three riders were young men in their twenties.

“Hey, I’ve got a question! Have you seen a…?” the leading rider waved his horsewhip in the air and asked.

“…a thin, tall, old man in a white robe with a scimitar by his waist, right?” Linghu Chong finished the sentence for him.

“That’s right! You know where he is?” all looking utterly joyful, the three asked in unison.

“Sorry, I have not seen him,” Linghu Chong said with a sigh.

The leading rider’s temper hit the roof. “God damn it! Are you making fun of me? If you haven’t seen him, how could you have described him?” he bellowed.

“Why couldn’t I know the description before actually seeing him?” Linghu Chong grinned.

The leading young man raised the horsewhip in his hand and was about to whip it at Linghu Chong’s head when another young man’s voice rose.

“Second brother, don’t complicate things. Let’s get back to the chase, hurry!”

The young man holding the horsewhip let out a disgruntled snort as he waved the whip and hit the air then rode off together with the other two.

“Why are all these people going after an old man in a white robe. What did he do?” Linghu Chong thought to himself. “To follow them and watch the fun will certainly be entertaining, but if they realize that I am Linghu Chong, I bet they would kill me on the spot.” At that thought, feeling of fear started stewing in his chest, but then he thought better of it. “At this stage, both the orthodox schools and the heretic schools want me dead. Dodging about might enable me to eke out a miserable life for a few more days, but eventually, I’ll still have to face my bitter end, the final deathblow. What good is it to live a few more days of a life filled with dread? I’d rather accept the circumstances with good will and see who I’ll lose my life to.”

Having made up his mind, he walked on following the dust kicked up by the three horses right away. Later, several more groups of people went pass him in the same direction and all asked him about the “thin, tall, old man in a white robe with a scimitar by his waist.”

“All of these different groups of people are chasing after the old man in white robe. None of them knows where he is yet all of them are following the same direction. That is so strange!” Linghu Chong thought.

He walked on for another mile or so, crossing through a wood of pine trees, when suddenly a vast wilderness and a dense mass of people appeared in front of his eyes. There were at least six or seven hundred people in the crowd, but the wilderness was so large that the six or seven hundred people in the middle appeared to have only occupied a tiny spot of it. A straight, broad road led directly to the large crowd, so Linghu Chong simply walked forward along the road, and as he walked closer, the scene became clearer.

In the middle of the crowd stood a small pavilion, the kind used as a wayside shelter for travelers to take a rest in. The build of the pavilion appeared simple and crude. The large crowd of people surrounded the pavilion in a circle yet kept a good distance from it, dozens of feet or so, and nobody closed in on it. After walking another one hundred feet closer, Linghu Chong finally saw him. An old man in a white robe sat in the middle of the pavilion all by himself, drinking wine next to a small table. Whether he had a scimitar by his waist, Linghu Chong could not tell from the distance. Even though he was sitting down, he still looked as tall as a person in average height standing up.

Feeling of reverence swelled up in Linghu Chong’s heart. Surrounded by so many enemies, the old man was still able to drink his wine in such a calm and unhurried manner. Among all the heroes Linghu Chong had seen or heard of throughout his life, rarely had one displayed such exceptional heroic spirit. He slowly walked forward and shouldered his way into the crowd. Everyone in the crowd stared at the old man in white robe with fixed eyes and no one paid the slightest attention to Linghu Chong.

Linghu Chong took a good look at the old man. He had a thin face. A bush of sparse, gray beard, long enough to reach his chest, fluttered under his chin in the breeze. Holding the wine cup in his hand, he gazed at the distance where the horizon met with the blue sky without casting even a glance at the crowd surrounding him. He carried a pack on his back, but there was no scimitar by his waist. Turned out that he didn’t even have a weapon with him. Linghu Chong had no idea about the old man’s name or origin, nor any clue why so many fellow martial people would come after him, nor whether the man was good or evil. He simply admired the heroic spirit the old man had put on display, the self-assurance he had shown as though he was just drink by himself alone and there was no one else even present. And unconsciously, the feeling of mutual sympathy as a fellow sufferer also swelled up in his heart and consumed him. Taking big strides forward, he spoke loudly.

“Hello there, Senior Master. Don’t you feel lonely drinking all by yourself? Let me be your accompany and drink with you.” Walking straight into the pavilion, Linghu Chong cupped his hands toward the old man in greeting and then sat down by the table.

The old man turned his head around and shot a sharp side-glance toward Linghu Chong. What met his eyes was a weaponless and sick-faced young man he had never met before. He let out a snort as a slight look of surprise flashed by his face but did not answer.

Linghu Chong picked up the wine kettle and filled the wine cup in front of the old man before filling a wine cup for himself.

“Cheers!” he raised his cup and toasted. Emptying the content of the wine cup down his throat in a swift swing, he drank it up in one gulp. The wine turned out to be very strong liquor; not only did he feel as though his mouth had just been cut with sharp knives as soon as the wine was poured in, he felt as though his entire stomach was on fire now. “Excellent wine!” he praised in a loud voice.

“Hey idiot! Get out! We are here to fight old Xiang to death. Don’t be a hindrance,” a big fellow outside the pavilion bawled in a husky voice.

“I am only drinking together with Senior Master Xiang. How did I become a hindrance for you?” Linghu Chong replied with a grin.

He filled his cup and then poured the wine into his mouth once again.

“Excellent wine!” he said with a thumb up.

“Move aside, chap, if you don’t want to die for nothing. We have Chief Dongfang’s order to capture renegade Xiang Wentian. If anyone wants to make trouble or interfere, he is guaranteed a horrible death,” a chilling voice rose from the left side.

Linghu Chong cast a glance at the origin of the voice then caught sight of a thin, short man with a white face. The man was dressed in a black robe with a yellow band around his waist. There were two or three hundred people standing next to him all dressed in black robes, but their waistbands were in all kinds of different colors. Linghu Chong suddenly remembered: when he had met Elder Qu Yang of the Demon’s Cult outside of the town of Hengshan, Qu was also dressed in the same kind of black robe, and he could vaguely remember that Qu also had a yellow band around his waist. The thin man said that he was following Chief Dongfang’s order to capture a renegade then of course these people are all cult members of the Demon’s Cult. Could this thin man have been an elder of the Demon’s Cult as well?

Filling his cup with wine, he drank it up a third time. “Excellent wine!” he praised and then said to the old man in white robe, Xiang Wentian, “Senior Master Xiang, I’ve drunk three cups of your wine. Many thanks! Many thanks!”

“That chap is the expelled apprentice of the Huashan School, Linghu Chong!” someone suddenly shouted out loud from the east end.

Linghu Chong cast a glance toward the direction of the voice and immediately recognized the man who had spoken out: it was Hou Renxiong, the apprentice of the Qingcheng School. Since he paid more attention to the crowd with this glance, he also realized that among the people standing next to Hou Renxiong, many were also members of the Five Mountains Sword Alliance.

“Linghu Chong,” a Taoist Priest spoke in a loud and clear voice, “your Master said that you have taken up with evildoers, and he certainly said it right. This demon Xiang Wentian’s murderous hands are both covered with blood of chivalry members of the orthodox schools. What are you doing staying together with him? If you don’t get lost right now, we’ll chop you into bits and pieces.”

“Are you an Uncle-Master of the Taishan School? I have never met this Senior Master Xiang before in my entire life. I’ve only stepped out because I saw the hundreds of you surrounding a man who was all by himself. What is that? And when did the Five Mountains Sword Alliance decided to collaborate with the Demon’s Cult? Aren’t you afraid to become the laughing stocks of all the heroes under Heaven taking on Senior Master Xiang, a single man, with the combined force of both the orthodox and the heretic schools?” Linghu Chong replied.

“When did we ever collaborate with the Demon’s Cult? The Demon’s Cult is here to capture a renegade of their cult; we are here to avenge for friends who have died under the devil’s murderous hands. They do their thing and we do our thing. There’s no relevance whatsoever!” the Taoist Priest rebuffed furiously.

“Good, good! As long as you fight him one on one, I’ll just sit here, drink my wine and watch the fun,” Linghu Chong said.

“Who the hell do you think you are? Everybody, let’s kill this chap before we get even with that devil Xiang,” Hou Renxiong yelled.

“There would be no need to trouble so many people just to kill Linghu Chong, a single man. Brother Hou, you can just come and do it yourself,” Linghu Chong said with a grin.

Hou Renxiong knew very well that his own Kung Fu skills were inferior to that of Linghu Chong’s learning from his past experience with Linghu Chong in the wine house when Linghu Chong had sent him rolling down the stairs with a single kick and certainly dared not to challenge Linghu Chong all by himself. But he had no idea that the Linghu Chong now was far from the Linghu Chong then and had lost all his internal strengths. The others in the group seemed to have great scruples about Xiang Wentian’s Kung Fu skills and none was bold enough to charge into the pavilion.

“Xiang Wentian, when things have come down to this extent, you’d better go see the chief with us and ask for pardon from his Highness. There’s still a chance that his Highness might spare your life. You are a great man in our cult. Would you rather see flesh and blood flying in all directions when we fight to death so the outsiders can laugh their heads off?” the thin man from the Demon’s Cult shouted.

Xiang Wentian only answered with a snort and gave a sip to the wine in his cup. As he raised his cup, something clanked, and that was when Linghu Chong noticed the iron shackles chained around his two wrists in astonishment.

“So he just escaped from his prison and hasn’t even removed the shackles around his wrists,” Linghu Chong thought to himself as compassion swelled up in his heart. “This man is unable to defend himself. Why don’t I help him fend off the attacks for a little while and just give away my life here in this muddled fight?”

At that thought, he stood up, arms akimbo, and said loudly, “How can Senior Master Xiang fight you with his hands tied up in iron chains? Since I drank three cups of his great wine, I guess it will have to be my duty to give him a hand in his defense. Anyone who wants to lay a finger on Senior Master Xiang will have to kill Linghu Chong first.”

Seeing how Linghu Chong had come forward for him for no apparent reason in such a lunatic manner, Xiang Wentian was taken by complete surprise. “Hey boy, why do you help me?” he asked in a whisper.

“Upon seeing injustice, draw one’s sword to set right a wrong,” Linghu Chong replied.

“Where’s your knife then?” Xiang Wentian asked.

“Oh, I use a sword. Too bad I don’t have one,” Linghu Chong replied.

“How are your skills in the sword art? Aren’t you from the Huashan School? Then I am afraid your skills in the sword art won’t be anything exceptional.”

“Nothing exceptional. Besides, I have very severe injuries and have lost all my internal strengths. That only makes the matter worse!” Linghu Chong grinned.

“Man, you are an oddball. Did you know that? Fine, I’ll go get a sword for you,” Xiang Wentian replied.

A white shadow suddenly flashed in front of everybody’s eyes as Xiang Wentian charged toward the crowd. Instantly, reflections from various blades twinkled as over a dozen weapons struck toward him. But Xiang Wentian unexpectedly accelerated sideways and pounced on the Taoist Priest from the Taishan School. The Taoist Priest thrust his sword forward at once. With an agile sway, Xiang Wentian dodged the thrust and stepped behind the Priest’s back. He quickly threw his left elbow backward, which struck the middle of the Taoist Priest’s back in a loud thud. Waving his two arms slightly immediately after, he caught the Taoist Priest’s long sword with the iron chain, and with a swift push to the ground using his left foot, he had leapt back into the pavilion. The entire series of moves were executed in such lightning fast speed. The many fighters of the orthodox schools had the intension of intercepting him but simply had the time for the reaction. One man was the fastest to react and chased after Xiang Wentian instantly. At the time Xiang Wentian had returned to the pavilion, he was only several feet from the pavilion. Raising the broadsword in his hand, he swung the blade at Xiang Wentian’s back. But it was as if Xiang Wentian had eyes on his back; without even looking back, he threw a back kick with his left foot, which struck right in the man’s solar plexus, sending him flying in the air in a painful cry. The man had put all his strength into the fierce swing of his blade and had no way of retracting the force in time. With a heavy thud, the knife followed through its course and cut off the man’s own right leg. Meanwhile, the Taoist Priest from the Taishan School swayed a few times and then collapsed to the ground, blood gushing out continuously from his mouth.

Thunderous cheers exploded among the Demon’s Cult crowd. “That’s some handsome skills, Right Counselor Xiang!” dozens of excited voices shouted in unison.

Xiang Wentian let out a slight grin and clenched his fist in greetings toward the crowd of the Demon’s Cult members, acknowledging the loud cheers. The iron chain tied around his wrists clanked loudly. With a swing of his arm, Xiang Wentian threw the sword toward the table, and with a clatter, the sword tip cut into the table.

“Here you go!” he said.

Linghu Chong felt admiration growing inside him. “This man dares to outface so many first-class masters. Turned out he truly has extraordinary skills,” he thought inwardly. But he didn’t reach out for the sword.

“Senior Master Xiang possesses such superior Kung Fu skills. There is really no need for me to make a fool of myself. Goodbye,” he said, clenching his fist in greetings.

Before Xiang Wentian had a chance to reply, cold flashes from naked blades flickered as three long swords shot toward the pavilion – three apprentices of the Qingcheng School, Hou Renxiong among them, had launched their attacks. All three long swords were aimed at Linghu Chong: one pointed at the middle of his back while the other two pointed at his lower back. The tips of all three swords were less than a foot from Linghu Chong.

“Linghu Chong, on your knees!” Hou Renxiong bellowed. After the shout, he pushed his long sword forward and the sword tip touched Linghu Chong’s skin.

“Linghu Chong is a man of high virtues. Even though death is my destiny today, there’s no way I’ll let myself die from these despicable Qingcheng people’s swords,” Linghu Chong thought to himself.

At the moment, he was completely enveloped by the forces from the three swords. If he tried to turn around, then instantly, one sword would penetrate his chest and the two other swords would cut into his lower abdomen. So he immediately let out a few loud laughs.

“Fine, I’ll be on my knees!” he replied.

Bending his right knee slightly, Linghu Chong quickly retrieved the long sword on the table and gave it a swift swing behind his back. Instantaneously, the three hands of the Qingcheng apprentices were cut off from their wrists and fell to the ground together with their three long swords. Their faces turning completely pale, the three Qingcheng apprentices couldn’t even believe their eyes. Only freezing there for a moment from panic, they finally remembered to leap back. One of the Qingcheng apprentice among the three was only about eighteen or nineteen years of age and instantly broke into a loud cry from the excruciating pain.

“Brother, it was you who wanted to kill me first!” Linghu Chong sighed.

“Excellent sword art!” Xiang Wentian cheered. But then he said, “The strength is too weak. Terrible inner strength!”

“It’s not terrible inner strength; there’s no inner strength at all,” Linghu Chong replied with a grin.

Suddenly Xiang Wentian let out a loud shout, then dense clanking sounds from the iron chain followed – two men in black robes had leapt into the pavilion and launched a full out attack at him. One wielded a pair of wrought iron maces while the other one held a pair of iron plates in his hands – both men used weapons of the ultra heavy type. Sparks flew in all directions as the four pieces of weaponry clashed with Xiang Wentian’s iron chain. Xiang Wentian dodged a few times in an attempt to get behind the man with iron maces, but the man put up a good defense line with his two maces, shielding all his vital points around his body. Having his two hands tied up in the iron chain, Xiang Wentian obviously had lost quite some agility and speed.

More berating shouts rose exploded from within the crowd of the Demon’s Cult members as another two men charged into the pavilion. Both of these two used octagonal copper hammers as their weapons and both smashed their hammers downwardly at Xiang Wentian again and again. As soon as the two with four hammers joined the fight, the man wielding a pair of wrought iron maces immediately turned from defense to offense. Xiang Wentian ducked and darted within the limited space; even though his movements were utterly clever and nimble, he still could not injure any one of his opponents. Every time when there was a crack for Xiang Wentian to take use of, as soon as he tried to exploit it and attacked one with his iron chain, the other three would throw themselves on him like mad men with no regard of their own safety. Such fighting techniques were as fierce as it could be.

After they have exchanged a dozen or so moves, the leader of the Demon’s Cult crowd shouted, “Eight spears, charge, all together!”

At that command, long spears in their tight grips, eight men in black robes rushed into the pavilion from all four directions. North, south, east and west, two long spears in each direction, all aimed at Xiang Wentian.

“Little friend, you’d better get out of here!” Xiang Wentian shouted at Linghu Chong. Before his voice even died out, the eight long spears had stabbed toward him all at once; in the meantime, the four copper hammers pounded toward his chest and stomach, the two iron maces swept toward his shinbones, and the two iron plates smashed toward his face – all vicious moves in all directions. At the moment, the twelve first-class fighters of the Demon’s Cult had spared neither effort nor mercy; apparently every one of them knew too well that fighting Xiang Wentian was the most dangerous thing in the entire world, and any second longer the fight lasted would only translate to another step closer to the gate of hell.

“How shameless!” seeing the many people attacking Xiang Wentian so ruthlessly and the chance for Xiang Wentian to come through with this getting slimmer by the second, Linghu Chong bawled.

All of a sudden, Xiang Wentian spun his body in tremendous speed, and the iron chain around his wrists swung up and clanked loudly as it collided with the many weapons. His body almost looked like a peg-top, spinning so rapidly that all everyone could see was a white blurry shadow. Two loud clanks exploded when his iron chain collided with the two iron plates, sending them flying out of the pavilion through the top, leaving two big holes in the ceiling. By then, Xiang Wentian didn’t even bother looking at the moves of his opponents and simply spin faster and faster, knocking the eight long spears away from him.

“Slow down your attack and let him exhaust himself!” the Demon Cult leader ordered.

“Yes!” the eight spear-wielding men answered all together and then each took two steps back, waiting for the chance of another full out attack when Xiang Wentian would show cracks in his defense shield from any slight exhaustion.

Among the watching audiences, the ones who had a little bit of experience could all tell that Xiang Wentian would not spin like this for very long no matter how extraordinary his Kung Fu skills were. Continue fighting like this, Xiang Wentian would only end up exhausting all his strength and wait for capture with tied hands.

Xiang Wentian broke into loud laughter. Suddenly, he squatted slightly and struck out with the iron chain. The end of the iron chain hit one of the men wielding copper hammers right in the waist. The man cried out loud in pain, and the copper hammer in his left hand swung back toward himself and smashed his own head. The eight spearmen thrust their spears out in unison, attacking all around Xiang Wentian’s body. Xiang Wentian swung his iron chain and knocked two spears out of the way, while the other six spears stabbed toward the right side of his rib cage as though agreed upon beforehand. At the instant, even if Xiang Wentian could dodge the first spear, he would not be able to dodge the second one, or even if Xiang Wentian could manage to dodge the second spear, there was no way for him to dodge the third one, much less when there were a total of six spears thrust at him at the same time.

Watching by the side, Linghu Chong saw the simultaneous stabs from the six spears and knew that Xiang Wentian had no chance of dodging them. Before he knew it, he was seized by a sudden impulse and remembered the fourth stance of the Dugu Nine Swords, Spear-breaking Stance. The extremely critical situation did not allow him to think any further; with a cold flash, he thrust out his long sword. A loud clank echoed as the eight spears fell to the floor. There were eight spears falling down to the floor, yet there was only one clank, as though the eight spears had fallen to the floor at the exactly moment. Since the move from Linghu Chong was aimed at eight different wrists, of course it could not hit eight wrists at the exact instant, but the thrust was so fast that it almost felt as though the thrust prodded all eight wrists simultaneously.

Once the sword moves started, Linghu Chong simply followed the flow and launched the fifth move, Mace-breaking Stance. The name “Mace-breaking Stance” was a general title and contained many variations of techniques. It can be used to counter short handled weapons ranging from steel club, iron mace, acupoint-sealing peg, judge’s-pens, crutches, Emei sting, dagger, war axe, iron plate, octagonal hammer, and iron awl. After a few quick flashes, the two iron maces and the two copper hammers also fell to the floor. Out of the total of twelve Demon’s Cult members charging into the pavilion, except one that had been killed by Xiang Wentian and one whose iron plates had been knocked out of his grips, the rest ten men all took a prod on their wrists and dropped their weapons. After a cry in panic, the eleven men ran back to their own crowd in a fluster while the crowd of orthodox school members couldn’t help but cheer loudly.

“Excellent sword art!”

“The sword art of the Huashan School has really widened our views!”

The Demon Cult leader gave another command and a group of five charged into the pavilion at once – a middle-aged woman wielding two long knives came running directly toward Linghu Chong and the other four men began attacking Xiang Wentian in a circle. The woman’s knife moves were extremely speedy. She had one knife in defense and one knife in quick offense. When the left knife was attacking, she would use the right knife to defend, and vise versa, when the right knife was attacking, she would use the left knife to defend. So by using both knives, every move was attacking the enemy while every move was also defending herself. The defense was tight and secure while the attack was vivid and through. Linghu Chong couldn’t see the moves clearly and had to take four steps back in a row. Then he heard loud swooshing sounds. It looked as though someone was attacking Xiang Wentian with a flexible weapon. While busying himself in dodging the chops