An outsider's perspective.
"Something to eat?" The bandit with the silver fang frowned, pushing the girls off him. They whimpered and hastily crawled away. He ostentatiously placed a greasy paw on the hilt of the sword hanging at his belt. "Aren't you lost, by any chance?"
"I doubt it," replied the man who had burst into the establishment, releasing a predatory grin. "And why are you standing there? Run while you have the chance," he addressed the goat-girls and the elderly male cook with a grey beard peeking out from the kitchen door. They immediately glanced at the head jackal, who, after a pause, waved his hand at them, and the hostages, stumbling and pushing each other, rushed to the back door. It was interesting that the jackals didn't think to stop their captives, apparently not wanting to lose live toys in the heat of battle. "That's it, mutt, time to smash your ugly mugs!" roared the snow leopard, burning with the desire to test himself against a "renowned bandit" in battle, while enjoying his own strength.
Almost all the gang members immediately rose from their seats, knocking over chairs. Some looked nervously at the intruder, while others immediately drew their weapons, assuming inept stances and trying to intimidate Tai Lung. The air in the tavern grew even thicker.
"I see you're not the timid type, huh?" Sabo grimaced, sensibly assessing the appearance and reaction of the grinning guest who seemed not to even notice his dozen men. "Well, no matter, killing masters like you is my hobby!" the jackal continued, grinning bloodthirstily and rising from his seat. "I'll scrape the skin off your head and make myself a rice wine cup!"
"Cut to the chase, 'crazy hands'," the leopard interrupted the jackal, grinning even wider. "Can you only work with your tongue, or what?"
"Ha... My claws will be enough for you..." The jackal exhaled, lowering his head and dropping the scabbard with the sword to the floor with a clatter. "I changed my mind. Your shitty skull will be my chamber pot!" Hatred literally soaked every word of the bandit, who immediately lunged at the self-assured master who dared to insult him.
Sabo, nicknamed Metal Tooth, had also embarked on the path of a martial arts master in the past; his teacher accepted three students, and Sabo was the second of them, both in strength and age. Master Ha-Ku taught them much, but the path he offered his students did not appeal to them—the path of discipline, self-restraint, and protecting the weak.
One night, they simply killed their sleeping master and stepped onto the slippery slope. Each of the three students, having become sworn brothers after killing the teacher, created his own gang and began wreaking havoc for their own pleasure throughout China. Those following the path of Kung Fu had stood in Sabo's way three times already, but the jackal killed them without much trouble, thereby proving to himself that he was above this path, and sinking ever deeper into the abyss of self-deception about his own omnipotence.
The jackal bolted from his spot, turning into a blurred orange shadow. All his hatred poured into his signature strike—"Swift Jackal Bite," a move aiming claws straight at the leopard's throat. With this move, he had ended the fight with the last master who stood in his way.
Tai Lung merely smirked. He shifted slightly to the right and delivered a hearty kick to the jackal's rear.
Sabo's claws pierced empty air, whistling an inch from the leopard's neck. From the unexpected, lazy-looking kick, the jackal, who hadn't anticipated such a reaction, flew further and only miraculously kept his balance, braking right in front of the wall. The hum of dozens of bandits in the tavern ceased instantly.
"Pretty fast. But too... straightforward and primitive, doggy," Tai Lung stated calmly, turning to him.
"Die!" roared Sabo, his pride wounded once again.
He rushed into a new attack. This time it was a series—fast, erratic strikes aimed at the eyes, groin, and solar plexus. Dirty tricks he had learned on the high road, mixed with the remnants of Master Ha-Ku's teachings.
Tai Lung, however, seemed to dance. He didn't retreat; he met every attack: a light movement with the back of his hand deflected a strike, a short forearm block stopped a kick, a step forward, and now Sabo was hitting air, while Tai Lung's elbow softly but noticeably knocked under his ribs.
The jackal recoiled, gasping for air. Not painful, but... humiliating.
He failed to hit again!
"You..." Sabo wheezed, "Stop dodging!"
"Weak, doggy," the leopard's grin widened. "Your stance is broken, you lean forward too much when you strike with your right... And you, idiot, decided you dare dictate terms here? No chance."
It was true, and Sabo realized it. The three "masters" he had killed were weaklings who had just finished their training; this leopard simply used his own strength against him and was merely testing what the jackal was capable of, just like his teacher many years ago.
Fear began to erode the bandit leader's confidence. He rushed into battle again, but not as confidently. Sabo tried to feint with a kick simultaneously with a palm strike, but Tai Lung didn't even react to the feint. The leopard calmly waited for the jackal to be sure of a hit, and as soon as he put all his weight into the strike, the master delivered his own.
It wasn't a crushing blow; it was a short, precise palm thrust to the chest, but even so, it felt to Sabo as if a battering ram had hit him. He didn't just take a hit in a fight—he felt the daring master's fist knock all the air out of his chest, and a realization dawned in the jackal's head—even now, the leopard was holding back.
Breathing faltered. Sabo stumbled back. Tai Lung stepped after him.
A shoulder check, throwing him off balance.
A finger poke to the solar plexus.
A sweep.
Sabo crashed onto his back, raising a cloud of dust from the dirty floor. Dead silence hung in the tavern. The bandits, clutching swords, didn't move, watching their invincible leader helplessly flailing on the floor.
Tai Lung towered over him, arms crossed over his chest.
"Your 'claws will be enough,' huh?" the leopard quoted. "Show-off."
Rage, humiliation, and primal terror overwhelmed Sabo. He lost! Cleanly! In front of his entire gang. The jackal rolled back, his gaze frantically darting across the floor. And then he saw it! A couple of steps away, dropped in a fit of pride, lay his saber in its scabbard.
Victory at any cost!
Forgetting honor, words, the warrior's path, Sabo desperately lunged for the weapon. He slid across the dirty floor, his fingers clutching the hilt, and in the next moment, he was leaping to his feet, drawing the gleaming blade.
"Now you'll dance for me, bastard!" he squealed, pointing the tip at the leopard.
Tai Lung just sighed heavily, his smirk slowly sliding off his face, giving way to disappointment.
"You're a piece of shit, not a warrior," the man uttered, after which his golden eyes turned bright blue, and in the next moment, he was already standing in front of the robber who had raised his sword over his head, except... "It's a pity to even dirty my hands on you..." The snow leopard pronounced, watching blood spread from the hole in the bandit's chest.
The scene presented to the bandits sent them into shock—their leader stood with his sword raised overhead, while the unfamiliar master, covered in a blue haze, stood opposite, having driven his fist into the jackal's chest and ripped out his heart in one motion.
"H-how?" the jackal asked with his last strength, but his killer paid no attention.
"I expected at least something interesting, but got only a dropout and a pack of thick-headed jackals... You disappointed me, so say goodbye to your lives."
"What? Wait, we..." One of the bandits tried to negotiate, throwing his sword to the ground, but his head was immediately torn off by a palm strike.
For the next minute, to the screams of the bandits, they were deprived of life one by one...
POV Tai Lung
Honestly, even though I understood that this "very dangerous" bandit posed no actual threat to me, subconsciously I expected at least something! It turned out that even that "something" couldn't be expected from such trash; hell, the jackal moved like an ordinary student of the Jade Palace, and an extremely untalented one at that! He could have landed at least one hit, right? With his skills, he'd barely manage to defeat a couple of my rhino jailers!
Pfft, not an opponent, in short.
On the other hand, in canon, Po defeated Tai Lung simply by tanking all his attacks with fat, and then annihilating him with a skill obtained from unknown sources called the "Wuxi Finger Hold," Shifu's signature move, by the way.
I remember when he was still a member of the Furious Five and trained me, I personally witnessed a couple of times how this technique is performed, sending its victim to the Spirit Realm. It's a pity I couldn't master it—my Chi was raging too much back then. It was uncontrollable, furious, and the hold required precise control. I think things are better with that now, but mastering such a complex technique from childhood memories... No, I am certainly mighty, smelly, and hairy, but not to that extent!
Tsk...
In the end, due to disappointment, I snapped and simply slaughtered all the jackals. I fully admit that they have some stash in the forest, and while I don't give a damn about material values—I'll take what I need myself—it wouldn't hurt to finish off the jackals guarding this stash too, otherwise they'll sell the looted goods and use the proceeds to hire and arm a similar squad, and masters will have to clean the world of another group of idiots thinking that they definitely won't get caught.
I shook the blood off my claws. The smell of iron mixed with the stench of beer and sweat... And also, it seems, one of the jackals managed to shit himself... Disgusting.
Turning around, I stepped through the broken doorway, going out into the street.
The sun was already beginning to set, painting the grey houses in crimson tones. Very... symbolic, considering that I was covered from head to toe in jackal blood. It dripped from my claws, flowed down my arms, staining my pants which had already seen a lot.
The village street, which was empty before, was now completely deserted. The few who were outside—that same kid-goat who was still standing in the alley, and a couple of old men peeking out from behind shutters—saw me. The reaction was... predictable.
A woman looking out the window screamed and slammed the shutters; two men standing by the well simply turned to stone, and one of them even dropped a bucket, which rolled across the cobblestones with a deafening rattle. They looked at me not as a savior, but as a monster. To them, I was just... another thug who had dealt with a competitor. Apparently, masters are a rarity here...
In this dead silence, footsteps were heard. That same kid-goat ran out of the alley; he looked warily at the door and my blood-stained hands, but maintaining determination, he ran up to me, stopping a couple of meters away. His yellow slit-pupils were dilated as if from fear, but also from something else.
"Master..." he babbled, not taking his eyes off my bloody hands. "Did you... did you... handle... Sabo?"
It was evident the boy was afraid to hear a negative answer, although it was easy to understand what had happened in this place.
I nodded.
"Sabo Metal Tooth will bother no one anymore. Neither he nor his pack."
The silence became deafening. And then the boy... sobbed. He covered his face with his hands, and his thin shoulders shook. The kid was crying, but not from fear, but from relief.
"He... he... he took mom... he... thank you..." the boy muttered through tears.
I stood in a stupor. I could have patted his head again, but now... I was covered in blood and didn't want to dirty him. But his crying...
I sighed heavily and reached out. My palm, from which the blood hadn't yet dried, landed on the top of his head, between the small horns. The boy flinched but didn't pull away, only burying his face deeper into his hands.
"Hush. It's over," I growled, trying to make it sound soothing. It didn't come out very well, but it seemed to work.
And this small gesture changed everything. The frozen residents saw it: a huge, bloodied leopard who had just committed a massacre standing and... comforting a child. It broke the stupor; the fear on the villagers' faces was replaced by bewilderment, and then—by slow, timid realization. I wasn't a bandit taking another thug's loot; I was a master who had come to their aid.
People slowly, very slowly, began to come out of their houses. First the old men, then men with pitchforks and axes (useless weapons, but the gesture was right), then women. They gathered in the square, keeping their distance, but no longer hiding.
At that moment, a woman ran out of the crowd, and I recognized her—it was one of the goat-girls from the tavern, the one with the torn sleeve. She ran barefoot on the cobblestones, her eyes red from tears, but now there was panic of a different kind in them.
She ran up to the boy and grabbed him by the shoulders.
"Lin! I told you to hide!" she shook him, then shifted her gaze to me and recoiled, shielding her son with herself.
"Mom! He... he saved us! He killed Sabo!" the boy shouted, peeking out from behind her back.
The woman looked incredulously at her son, then at me. The girl took a step forward, bowing low.
"Master..." her voice trembled from what she had endured. "My husband is the elder... He... went to the city for reinforcements; did he send you?"
I see. So, this kid has an elder for a father.
I shook my head.
"I was just passing by and decided to help."
The woman paled. This wasn't the answer she expected. The crowd's reaction was the same—a murmur of disappointment and renewed fear.
"But... but how..." she whispered. "My husband, Chen... he is the strongest and fastest in the village, he had at least some authority in the eyes of the city lord... He left four days ago for Wei-Jin city to ask the lord for help, to bring a master to the village... But he hasn't been back for four days... We thought..."
She cut herself off.
"I got rid of four jackals on the road," I informed her coldly. "They were guarding the path, but I saw no one else there. I don't know if your husband is alive."
The woman covered her mouth with her hand. This news, though not good, gave a sliver of hope, because if there is no body, relatives will wait for a return even years later. She looked at me, then at the tavern I had come out of. The crowd behind her was silent, awaiting her decision; apparently, in the absence of the elder, his wife was in charge.
"Master..." she bowed again, firmer this time. "You saved us. You... you are covered in blood. Please, stay for the night. We cannot offer much; the bandits took almost everything... but we have an empty house. Old Li's house. It... stands empty."
I nodded in agreement. I hadn't come to the village for no reason—Vakhir's map was dated the year I was imprisoned; hardly much had changed, but terrain, like nature, is changeable. I wouldn't want to get lost because of an old map, and it's worth catching up on news during my imprisonment.
"I will stay for the night. In the morning, I will leave." The crowd exhaled in relief. I saw their fear: a savior is good, but I didn't look like a hero from legends—heroes don't have blood of slain enemies dripping from their hands, and a cape must flutter behind their backs. "But I need a few things," I continued, looking straight at the girl.
"Anything, Master!" she nodded hastily.
"First. I need a modern map. Preferably detailed."
"Yes, in my husband's study... I'll bring it."
"Second. Food."
"Yes, of course, we'll gath..."
"A lot of food," I interrupted her. "And preferably more meat."
"Y-yes, Master. We have meat, we raise goats, and our hunters will go into the forest today to..."
"No need," I stopped her. "One goat will be quite enough; don't bother so much."
"We have hunters, Master, and it's no burden to them, but I understand." The woman nodded.
"Good. And third." I looked around the crowd, still huddling together. "I need news. What is happening in the world, what happened in the last twenty years, who is Emperor now, what's with the Jade Palace."
They can easily guess who I am, but I didn't intend to hide. I plan to clear my name very soon, and it's worth starting to do so now.
The elder's wife nodded.
"We will tell you everything, Master. Come. I... I will bring you clean water and clothes."
I followed her to "Old Li's house," leaving behind the corpses of hyenas and frightened, but alive, goats.
And far, far away, on the highest peak of the Spire of a Thousand Spears, from where a view of the entire valley opened up, including the tiny dot of the village of Han-Ya, stood a figure.
"It seems this is the very village captured by bandits..." the girl said, peering into the distance. "Good, I hope I'm not too late..."