The last song of the ancestors

At the beginning of the 21st century, China embarked on a geo-economic integration project. With the Belt and Road Initiative, better known as the New Silk Roads, the socialist country with Chinese characteristics undertook a series of infrastructural and credit investments.

The Belt redesigned the old caravan routes with railroads, and the Road with an extensive maritime trade network. This created a series of economic corridors connected to the eastern giant. It won it support from the countries of the Global South and the plan to trade in national currencies, evading petrodollars and the economic sanctions imposed by the United States of America and its annexed institutions.

To strengthen ties between China and these countries, many businessmen working abroad were encouraged to marry local women, provided they were well situated. It was under these conditions that the marriage between Makena Wangari and Kuen Fo Hao-Yu, heir to one of his country's largest construction companies, became possible.

Makena was the daughter of a former Kenyan prime minister and was studying for a bachelor's degree in medicine at the University of Nairobi. Kuen was studying architecture. The two met accidentally and soon became closer.

The patriarch of the Hao-Yu family, Mr. Ya Zhi, only found out when Makena was pregnant. The relationship between the bell and the girl generated less fuss, what mattered was the feeling of loss of trust. Despite everything, the marriage was arranged.

The grandson's heir was named Njora Wangari Hao-Yu. At first, the paternal side of the family rejected the child. Years passed, Njora grew up and having a child in the house broke down the initial resistance. But it was through martial arts that the little one won his grandfather's heart.

It was through Njora's talent, discovered by chance, that Ya Zhi recognized the child as his legitimate heir. He taught him his family's secret fighting style. For someone like Njora Hao-Yu, used to the best of both worlds, the life of professional competition became tedious.

The Sino-Kenyan's fists suffered from the uncertainty of never having been tested in the fire of real combat. Only testing the limits of his abilities motivated him to be there.

As he climbed into the ring of the Grand Arena, facing Countess Bloody Mary, he felt that he would be facing an opponent equal to his abilities. The witch looked him up and down with disdain, she seemed disgusted. She crossed her arms, waved her fan and said:

"Please, my boy, decline this dance."

"I would never refuse to exchange a few steps with such a beautiful lady."

"Hunhunhun, unfortunately, I'm much taller than you."

"Well, don't you say to those who are too tall: 'Be careful, there's a big fall', ma'am?"

As she gave this answer, the veins and arteries under the Englishwoman's skin throbbed. Her skin, previously very pale, took on a flushed hue. Her eyes welled up with blood, as if she had a subconjunctival hemorrhage. She put her fan away and screamed in a guttural voice that bore no resemblance to the noblewoman's silky, cynical voice:

“O rex Azazel! Qui bibit meum sanguinem et tribuit mihi benedictiones tuas, ut plus effundatur sanguis in nomine tuo…”

Njora saw a huge shadow appear behind the woman. It was an aura of pure negativity in the shape of a strange creature. It was half human and half goat with huge horns on its head. No matter how hard she tried to take the initiative in the fight, that dark presence prevented her from moving.

The strange ritual had not been completed. She pulled a curved-bladed dagger from her corselet and slashed her palm, splinsh!

“Sanguinis Libels.”

An orgasmic expression appeared on his face. The bleeding dripped from his hand like an open tap. With a quick gesture of his cut hand, the blood took on a gelatinous consistency. Little by little, it solidified and took the shape of a crimson foil. The blade was light and stiff, ninety centimeters long and cupped. In all, it weighed five hundred grams.

"In gard, young man! I've given you the chance to stop embarrassing yourself in that ring."

"The use of a weapon will give you no advantage, madam. My style was forged to allow its practitioners to fight unarmed against anyone. It's the first…"

Swift as a gale, the countess approached Njora. She sought to strike his navel, but he only dodged the attack without fighting back. Bloody Mary turned her opaque eyes on him, and maintained her stocky pose.

"Madame, it is impolite to interrupt a speech."

"If the chatter is boring, it's good manners for someone to interrupt it straight away."

He tried a second time, to no avail. She struck once more, but the Sino-Kenyan kept retreating until he was close to the wall. Once again, the countess struck with her red foil, only succeeding in piercing the transparent wall. Njora dodged in profile and jumped backwards, avoiding all her opponent's blows.

"I thought there was going to be a fight, young man, not acrobatics show."

"Madame, it seems to me that this foil has an oblique blade."

This last provocation infuriated the countess. She made a perfect crossbow. It would have been indefensible if her opponent hadn't been more agile and flexible. In order not to miss another blow, the witch cheated. Her forearm twitched strangely, increasing the blood flow in her palm.

The foil, with its handle connected to her veins, extended at the last moment and struck her opponent's torso. The tip of the weapon hit his left hypochondrium.

"Score one for me."

Njora tried to contract her muscles. It was a technique developed by Chinese martial artists to prevent bleeding. She couldn't stop the bleeding.

"It's not possible!"

"You could have avoided that punishment, boy. Now, imagine, in my current state of rage, how many more ordeals I can offer you? It will be like a descent into the nine circles of hell."

"Madame, forgive me, I think I've seen what your witches can do. If you'll allow me, I'll abandon this test of skill and take this fight seriously."

As he did so, he unbuttoned the bloody hanfu and threw it away. His young body and bulging muscles drew gasps from the women in the Grand Arena.

He assumed a fighting stance and moved his fists transversely and horizontally. His outstretched fingers, close together and firm, showed that his fingers were more than members of his body, they were weapons. Without moving from his stance, with a petulant gesture of his hand, he invited the witch to make another attack.