Dragon's breath met Bark Skin and if they were both titular projections of the real thing, Arthur's trip through the Tower would have ended there and then. Luckily, one was more fanciful and descriptive than reality, the flames and heat emerging from Boss Fang's mouth nowhere near as hot as the - rumored - napalm-level flames that emerged from a Western dragon's mouth. The real thing might melt steel, but they were still Beginner Tower climbers.
His only could burn flesh and boil eyeballs.
For the unprotected, that is.
Arthur had swapped out his Bark Skin before arriving at the insistence of his people. Not that they had to push hard, even he seeing the advantage of keeping a defensive measure up on fast recall rather than his usual Refined Exploding Energy Dart. After all, he hadn't intended to start the fight, but the chances of his opponent doing so had always been high.
It was also why when the attack happened, beyond the initial stunned moment when everyone realised that it really was beginning, his opponents did not have much of a surprise advantage. In fact, thanks to Uswah and a few others who had snuck their way around the corners and who - liberally - applied their various rooting abilities to the cries of surprise and confusion of the Ghee Hin and their hanger-ons. He even saw a few fall over, knocking others into disarray as stored and readied attacks flew between each group.
All that, Arthur grasped as he kept rolling and threw his chair into the air, flipping it over and over again as he grasped it on the way down and tugged on it as he tumbled backwards. It bounced off the much bigger table, doing nothing to stop the furniture's trajectory and impact against Arthur's body.
It did have the advantage of slowing down Fang Chien for a brief moment though, as he smashed it aside.
Furniture splintered, parang that the man had kept sheathed out and coming down to Arthur. His own spear had been left behind, clattered on the ground as he released and flinched from the flames by instinct. Without a weapon, Arthur did the only thing that made sense.
He charged Fang Chien, bursting forwards to get under his opponent's grip. The blade and hilt and hand slammed into his shoulder, bringing a fresh burst of pain, but without proper leverage or angle, it could only clatter against smoking armour rather than cut.
At the same time, Arthur was weaving his Refined Energy Strike and the Imbued Strike - Yin Poison together, gripping his opponent around the chest as he tried to bring him to the ground. He might not enjoy grappling - it left his back all too open to being stabbed - but pushing the other away was the name of the game for now.
Chaos, as parang blade beat down on him. He felt his own hair and skin begin to crisp, his eyes watering and armour smoking further as Fang Chien triggered a flame aura. Much like Jan's, except much, much stronger. It burnt and licked at Arthur even as Fang Chien tried to get his strikes in the only open area vulnerable to him, the gap between helmet, gorget and armour.
Dull thuds that kicked and hurt, that made Arthur wince and drove him down again to his feet, his grip threatening to give way under the onslaught of the stronger opponent. His own Imbued Strike triggered, washing in and contesting the Yang aura, the flames and strength of his opponent.
Sapping them, a touch.
More punches, more strikes. More poison, seeping in, more flesh burning.
"Arthur!"
The shout forced Arthur to open his eyes, briefly. Spot the oncoming trouble and drop, letting the latest strike drive him all the way to the ground. Moments before the woman - Lin - was thrown into the pair of them. It bowled over Fang Chien, forced him to sprawl to the ground and scramble upwards, sinking the tip of the parang into a shoulder as he did so.
Lin cried out, gripping at the wound and nearly losing a finger as he yanked the blade out of her shoulder.
Arthur would have helped, but he had bigger problems to deal with. Namely, the massive Northern Chinese hired gun that was stalking over. Tall enough to have done well in American basketball, easily over six and a half feet tall, maybe even seven. It was hard to tell, he wasn't used to seeing people that tall in-person. Nevermind as he scrambled to his feet and the other came rushing over, bent a little, hands like oven mitts held out ready to grab.
"Big, sick!" Arthur muttered and released the newly formed Refined Exploding Energy Dart. He winced as the explosion caught his opponent in the face, made the other stagger back, bloody and a missing nose. He darted forward, barely escaping the blade that came tearing down his back in a Focused Strike - or maybe Penetrating Strike - that tore up his armor.
Dodged around big boy, grabbed his spear from the floor and then swing it around, tripping the slow-moving giant while pulling together another Refined Energy Dart.
And finally, finally ready to keep the battle going.
***
Fang Chien, falling backward as Arthur swung his spear. He used all parts of it, sharp head, haft, the body for blocking or his body. Pouring his Imbued Strike filled with Yin Energy down the spear, through his aura into his opponents. He was focused not on landing the attacks but keeping his opponent on the backfoot, allowing the seeping Yin energy to invade his opponent.
Twenty, thirty seconds of the battle, Arthur pushing his opponent into the middle of the scrum. Trying to get them into the middle of the fight. He utilized his Bark Skin to take attacks, allowing the bruises and cuts to accumulate which he ignored. Those that got in too close, he released the Refined Energy Dart, tearing through armour or bones or limbs.
Fang Chien, strong, powerful, and with his own techniques was on the backfoot. However, having released his flames just once more - and catching a number of his own companions in the untargeted attack - had fallen back on attempting to cut through Arthur's defense. Only Arthur's better armor and his opponent's focus on speed - a speed that was being drained by each moment's contact with the Yin poison - had allowed Arthur a chance.
A chance to push him back, all the way into his opponent's side where now the group was tangled, fighting one another, fighting Uswah and the other sneaks. Turned around, they compressed in a tight ball, a few even going so far as to give up and cast their weapons down.
They were winning, at least the battle within.
The problem, of course, was that the Ghee Hin were coming in from the outside as well. And from the sounds of it, that battle was doing worse.