#we're all playing in the same sandbox and having a blast trying to figure out what it all means

[atamascolily]

My favorite example of Narrativium in Thunderbolt Fantasy is when Juan Can Yun manages to navigate his way through the Labyrinth of Darkness without the macguffin the party spent several episodes trying to acquire because he marked a path on the way in. Every time I get to that point, I mutter "this is utter bullshit" and every time I'm won over because it just works and lets us move on to the next thing rather than getting bogged down in details. Ditto for the Spirit Veins in the trees, which turn up once and never again--it's so awesome and convenient, it automatically bypasses any objections my brain might raise. (Or as the Madoka Magica meme goes, "It's magic, bitch, I don't have to explain shit".) Truly inspiring.

Like Lian Qi, I think Xie Ying Luo is Doomed by the Narrative, in the sense that there is no way for her to win from the moment of her introduction. She chooses pride over expediency by trying to kill Shang instead of running off with the Index, as Shang himself notes. That's the moment it all goes to hell in a handbasket for her; the rest is one long slide to rock bottom via Ironically Appropriate means. And when she tries to get up again, the narrative crushes her like a bug.

Does that mean she shouldn't have tried, though? I don't know if it's that simple. Xiao Kuang Juan died as he lived--trying to cozen up to someone to get them to do the dirty work for him--and it did not save him in the end. Ditto for Lou Zhen Jie, who ultimately got a happy ending (for him, anyway--Lou Zhen Jie heaven is Zhao Jun Lin hell. It's a very efficient system). Thunderbolt Fantasy is a harsh world for NPCs and villains and side characters alike--I'm still impressed that Wan Jun Po's men managed to survive Season 3 given the mass casualties in Season 2. The determining factor seems to be whether any given character is more valuable to the narrative alive or dead, but that's not necessarily information the characters themselves have access to.

Re: "Xie Ying Luo Lives" AUs, I 100% agree, and the only reason I haven't written something like that myself is because it so wildly diverges from the narrative it stops being a Thunderbolt Fantasy story and starts being something else instead! I did write an AU that played with what her fate might be had she lived in a different way, as well an AU in which she revisits her choices in the afterlife, but I have not yet figured out the right approach for the kind of story you describe, though it haunts me.

This question of fighting fate/the narrative (in a story, is there really any difference?) is a central preoccupation of many of Urobuchi's works, but it meshes especially well with budaixi conventions and genre tropes. Puella Magi Madoka Magica also has its share of theatrical elements and magical girl archetypes, but I agree that the character poems explicitly make this textual in a way that I rarely encounter in other media.

That said, while Urobuchi has a deep love for and knowledge of, budaixi conventions, Thunderbolt Fantasy appears to play with them in interesting ways. This can be seen in the presentation of the character poems, which do not necessarily appear when a character is introduced, but when their true self is revealed. Thus, Juan Can Yun's poem only appears when he chooses pride over expediency and Dan Fei over Shou Yun Xiao; Lin Xue Ya's when his duplicity is exposed; and Shang Bu Huan's at the very end of Season 1. Before that, we can watch them in action, but we don't truly grasp who they are because we are missing important pieces. Traditional conventions are simultaneously maintained, yet fluid.

That said, I agree that Xie Ying Luo and Lang Wu Yao appear to challenge this particular convention by "growing beyond" the worldviews implied in their poems. Xie Ying Luo's is "solved" by erasing her from the narrative (sob!) while Lang Wu Yao's fate is more open.

Based on what Urobuchi has said in interviews, Lang's personality is not "fixed" in the same way that Shang or Lin's is; he has not yet discovered his purpose in life. I think for Lang the ultimate key to maturity is the realization that good and evil are not as different as he originally assumed, and that on some level (either literal or metaphorical) humans and demons are fundamentally the same. This show being what it is, my bet is literal, but that's something S4 will likely address.

We see a similar version of this with Juan Can Yun and Lin Xue Ya in S3, actually:

Of course, Lin's entire character poem is all about how truth and lies are two sides of the same coin, so he would say that, wouldn't he... but Lin is generally right about these kinds of things; as far as I can tell, he always tells the truth, albeit from "a certain point of view". "Things that seem like they're different turn out to be the same" is a running theme of Thunderbolt Fantasy in general, so I feel reasonably confident in predicting it will be true for Lang's situation as well. He will fix the disharmony within himself and gain power and freedom (from his father, if nothing else) as a result; it will re-affirm his character poem instead of changing it because the dichotomy that was causing the discord is resolved. "I accept the good and the bad, the human and demonic, and they are not separate" feels like the only possible answer to the paradox he's confronted with.

I think Lang's arc will end better than Xie Ying Luo's, if only because he is a protagonist, and I don't think his story is ultimately a tragedy, though it has no shortage of tragic elements. Even though Thunderbolt Fantasy is not a romance, Lang Wu Yao strikes me as a romantic hero in a coming-of-age story, even if his love interest has been mostly sidelined thus far. Given that his arc in Bewitching Melody was about seizing control of his own fate, I think he will continue to build upon this framework in the future.

Or to put it a different way, I think Lang will survive by virtue of genre expectations.... the question being "which genre and is it the one we thought we were watching?" Are the characters passive victims of the story/narrative (i.e., fate) or can they create it and/or shift the audience's perceptions of it? Does the tail wag the dog or vice versa? Will our expectations be borne out or will they be subverted in a satisfying manner instead?

We'll find out, but my money's on Shang ultimately being right because he's the hero and all (in keeping with genre expectations, of course). Lin Xue Ya will also be right, because life is tricky like that, and because he and Shang, like light and dark or truth and lies, are two halves of a whole, which is why the story began with them coming together and I think it will end with them departing together on a new adventure. But there is a great opportunity for meta-narrative awesomeness--simultaneously adhering to genre conventions yet challenging them--and I can't wait to see how it all shakes out.

I like that you mention "ethos", because the Crunchyroll translation has Lin Xue Ya use that word when he's discussing the kind of things he likes to steal--to understand who that person is so thoroughly that he can take from them the thing that gives their life intrinsic meaning. Of course, it keeps backfiring on him, either because he doesn't truly understand them in the first place, or because his victims decide to get back at him where it hurts, but so much of Lin's power comes from being genre-savvy; as a storyteller in-universe, he knows narrative cues when he sees them, to the point of being able to tap into them for his own purposes (i.e., the Nendoroid phone). The ending of Bewitching Melody of the West where he breaks the fourth wall with information he should not have access to at that point in time gets me every single time, because it's just so damn meta, and raises some fascinating questions about who and what he really is. Out of everyone in the cast, Lin Xue Ya is the one most aware of the power of narrative, and how it is stronger than any sword, and this is a huge part of what makes him so effective and compelling.

But to build on your last statement, I would say that while audience expectations and authorial skill are indeed more powerful than weapons and warriors, the most powerful force in Thunderbolt Fantasy is ultimately the author's love for their characters, their world, and the story that they're telling, from which everything else arises.

Some Thoughts on Power Levels in Thunderbolt Fantasy

@jafndaegur got me thinking about this, so strap in because this is a long one!

tl;dr: Narrative casuality is linear for characters and the audience, and non-linear for writers and analysts; power levels in Thunderbolt Fantasy are a perfect illustration of this, thanks for coming to my TED talk.

Fight scenes are a major component of Thunderbolt Fantasy, but who wins and who loses is determined less by the absolute power levels of the respective parties, but by the needs of the narrative. There's a tendency to think of it as the other way around because that's how it initially appears to us as viewers--we see the outcome and think one caused the other. However, this is an illusion caused by the way we experience media. From a structural and compositional standpoint, the reverse is true--the story dictates the outcome, not the other way around.

For an example, let's look at Lian Qi's ill-fated fight against Sha Wu Sheng in Season 1. On the surface, it looks like Wu Sheng is considerably stronger, since he was able to kill Lian Qi in one blow. However, consider that Lian Qi's death is required for the story to work--if he survived and Wu Sheng didn't, it would be a different story entirely! This isn't what is usually meant by the phrase "doomed by the narrative," but in this case, it's an accurate description of the situation--there is no power level Lian Qi could possibly possess that would save him from Wu Sheng, since Wu Sheng's presence is required for the story as it stands to work.

Lian Qi's narrative role is to serve as a sacrificial lamb for Wu Sheng--that's his one (1) job and he's very good at it. We know that Wu Sheng is powerful, because he was able to effortlessly destroy a man of considerable skill and power whom Lin Xue Ya had just spoken highly of in the preceding scene. Saying that this means that Wu Sheng is thus a stronger fighter may be true, but it's not particularly interesting as an isolated factoid; what matters is what the fight reveals about the characters (that Wu Sheng is ruthless and determined) and how it advances and serves the story (gets him the Soul Echo Flute and a chance to reunite with Lin Xue Ya).

In other words, strength/power is correlated with victory, but correlation is not causation, even though we tend to interpret it as such because we experience narratives linearly, where cause comes before effect.

The other important thing to consider is that characters in Thunderbolt Fantasy are not simply discrete individuals--they also represent specific moral or philosophical positions. When they clash, the "strength" of the character has as much to do with the strength of this position as it does their physical prowess. This is true for most if not all of Gen Urobuchi's works, but it's more explicitly textual in Thunderbolt Fantasy, because in-universe, the character's "sword" is viewed as an extension of the self; it is primarily through conflict that this self becomes fully revealed.

Perhaps the best example of this is Lin Xue Ya's fight with Mie Tian Hai, in which the latter is fighting to preserve his philosophy that strength through the sword can only be attained a certain way. His physical defeat and the shattering of that worldview occur simultaneously; furthermore, his identity is so wrapped up in this particular point that he immediately kills himself in response.

[As an aside: Mie Tian Hai's suicide out of spite is foreshadowed by Can Xiong doing the same thing in the first episode when Shang Bu Huan defeats him. Can Xiong is not merely a loyal subordinate; he is enacting the teachings embodied by his master. Say whatever else you will about Mie Tian Hai, at least he isn't a hypocrite--he practices exactly what he preaches. There's a reason I refer to the Xuan Gui Zong as a "death cult"!!]

Taken together, these two factors--narrative purpose and philosophical position--provide a useful framework to make sense of conflict, and thus power levels, in Thunderbolt Fantasy. Here are a few examples:

-Shang Bu Huan vs. Lang Wu Yao in Bewitching Melody of the West -- Shang is older and more experienced than Lang in many respects, so it makes sense that he would win out here. However, what settles his victory isn't his physical skill, it's his moral clarity and sense of purpose; he knows who he is and that his cause is righteous.

Meanwhile, Lang is powerful, with martial arts from his unique upbringing combined with the magic of his innate heritage, but he is also confused and morally compromised through his allegiance to the corrupt Xi You imperial court, which ultimately gives Shang the upper hand. Note that this fight ends when Shang directly calls out Lang's ideas of good and evil, and Lang loses the will to continue; his doubts and uncertainty make it impossible for him to win. The climax of the movie is Lang coming to an emotional realization and gaining a corresponding power-up/magical boy transformation to go with it. Changing his philosophy increased his strength, not the other way around!

As Season 2 demonstrates, Lang's narrow-minded focus on good and evil have not changed by the end of Bewitching Melody, he's just altered the definitions so that Shang is now one of the good guys, and taken agency over his decisions instead of being a mindless tool for anyone else. This rigidness will continue to hold him back until he adopts a broader and more mature philosophy. This is especially important, because the Huo Shi Ming Huang fight in S3 demonstrates vividly that Lang's powers are fueled by his emotions; when unchanneled, he is capable of incredible destruction. (There's so much about that scene that is wonderful from an analytical standpoint, but my favorite part is Ling Ya muttering, "Oh, buddy, no" [paraphrase] right before all hell breaks loose; Ling Ya, as Lang's self-appointed mouthpiece, knows what's up.)

-Speaking of Huo Shi Ming Huang, the flashback in S3x06 is one of the few times we've ever seen Shang on the back foot. Not coincidentally, this fight is also characterized by Shang's hesitation and doubts as to the best course of action, which create a cascade of consequences leading to a Bad Ending of Mu Tian Ming's blindness and Shang's subsequent departure from Xi You. I've written elsewhere about how this outcome is also narratively determined in advance by the events of Season 1, which were written first even though they occur later in-universe, to the point where there's an entire mini-arc devoted to showing just how necessary this particular loss was; for better or worse, the entire story of Thunderbolt Fantasy rests on it.

-Xie Ying Luo vs. Shang Bu Huan in S2x09, "The Path of the Strong" - Up to this point, Xie Ying Luo's fighting style has been the opposite of the standard wuxia code of honor--she uses illusions and poisons and takes hostages rather than fight one-on-one. As Lin Xue Ya wryly points out in 2x04, this is the best way of dealing with a powerhouse like Shang Bu Huan (he even says it would be how he'd take Shang down!!!) but it's strongly implied that Xie Ying Luo relies on these methods because she doubts her own strength. [How much of this is due to misogyny is unclear, but there's no question it's a factor; Ba Wang Yu's character in S4 suggests she has taken the opposite approach to the same systemic forces with her emphasis on physical strength.] Xie's arc is characterized by her uncertainty and doubts, which send her on an increasing downward spiral (exposure to Di Kong's nihilism does not help!); even wielding Seven Blasphemous Deaths isn't enough to overcome it. However, after freeing herself from the demonic sword's thrall, Xie Ying Luo makes the unexpected decision to fight Shang one on one with her sword, something she has spent the entire show up to this point avoiding.

This makes no goddamn sense from a tactical perspective, but it's not about tactics or even victory. On a practical level, Xie Ying Luo is saving face--she knows she can't win, but if Shang defeats her and takes Seven Blasphemous Deaths, she can at least say that she didn't completely abandon her duties. She may have lost the fight, but she retains her honor, even if it means she can never return to Huo Shi Ming Huang's service.

Shang recognizes this, which is why he is so gracious to her after her defeat--he respects the courage it took to show up in the first place, and encourages her to redefine what it means to be strong in the first place. Again, we return to the idea that true strength isn't physical prowess, but moral clarity and certainty, which Shang possesses in abundance--and is also willing to pass along to others. Season 2 goes to a lot of effort to demonstrate Shang's mercy and compassion are strengths, not weaknesses, and this scene is further evidence of this.

Shang also believes that fate is not fixed and that people are capable of growing and changing if they choose to do so, which again gives him power over those like Sha Wu Sheng and Lou Zhen Jie, who believe themselves to be instruments of inevitability. (This is also what makes Shang Bu Huan endlessly surprising and therefore interesting and entertaining to Lin Xue Ya, but that's a whole 'nother story.) Unfortunately, Xie Ying Luo is tragically murdered by the very weapon she gave up (and by a man she trusted!!) and never gets to fully realize this, but she tries, damn it, even if it wasn't enough to save her in the end. This is one reason why Lang Wu Yao buries her even though they were enemies, because on some level he recognizes and honors that attempt, despite the fact he wasn't there to witness exactly what transpired.

I should also point out that while moral strength is a source of power, it's not the be-all, end-all--one reason why Lou Zhen Jie is so terrifying is because he no longer doubts. His logic and reasoning might be unsound, but he is so single-mindedly focused on his goal that he can plow through any obstacle single-handedly (pun intended). This is also what makes him such a great foil to Shang Bu Huan on multiple levels; Lou Zhen Jie is what would happen if Shang were evil/misguided/less ethical than he actually was. This is why Shang fighting alone can match Lou Zhen Jie but cannot win without something else to tip the scales.

Here's a fight that's interesting precisely because it didn't happen: Lin Xue Ya vs. Sha Wu Sheng. One reason why Lin Xue Ya refuses to fight Sha Wu Sheng at any point in Season 1 is that it would require Lin to reveal himself openly and intimately in a way he has no desire to do. Furthermore, it would also clash with the needs of the story, i.e., the big reveal of Lin's abilities in the final episode. Lin is so confident in his own abilities that he has no need to "prove" himself by fighting; just as his narrative foil Shang has no need to "prove" his own strength by picking stupid fights and does everything he can to avoid them. The primary difference between the two is that Lin spares his enemies so he can savor their suffering, while Shang spares his enemies so they can do better in the future.

This is why Shang repeatedly and emphatically insists that he and Lin have nothing in common--he sees the commonalities but the differences repel him even more because of it. Note that Shang indirectly critiques Lin's approach when he tells Xie Ying Luo that a truly strong person can spare someone's life and not have them come after him in revenge.... in essence, arguing that Lin's whole approach is fundamentally misguided. (This is also the second time he's done this in conversation with Xie Ying Luo; the first time was in 2x01 when he unfavorably compared her technique to Lin's. For someone who claims to want nothing to do with this guy, he sure thinks about him a lot!) Shang also has no intention of killing Lou Zhen Jie in the climax of S2; all he wants is to take Seven Blasphemous Deaths away from him.

[This leads to fascinating questions like "How will Shang deal with Huo Shi Ming Huang?" and "Can the guy who believes in the supremacy of fate and seeks to become Fate itself ever break free of it?" which I think we'll see in the final movie, so TBD.]

I'll also note that there is a tendency in modern storytelling to have power as the limiting factor for characters, whereas myths and epics give their characters free reign to do whatever they want, and as a story about archetypal characters with superhuman abilities, I think Thunderbolt Fantasy leans more towards the latter in many respects. Characters have exactly enough power to do what narratively needs to get done, no more and no less, so in that sense, it's a very efficient system.

I'll stop here because this is very long and rambling and I think I've demonstrated my point: for something so seemingly obvious and matter of fact, "strength" and "power" in Thunderbolt Fantasy, let alone comparing that of one character to another, is far more challenging than it appears on the surface, and contingent upon both the character's moral stance and the larger narrative of which they are a part. It's both deeper and far more interesting than "Character X is stronger than Character Y" (even if character X is stronger than character Y!).

[uncleasriel]

via @atamascolily

#thunderbolt fantasy#wuxia fantasy puppet epic#tbf meta#conversations like this are why I love fandom so much#we're all playing in the same sandbox and having a blast trying to figure out what it all means#deep thoughts about puppets

I m SO flattered by your words! I do like to over-analyze media, and seeing someone take my prolix natter and making something robusts from it really makes me smile.

Doomed By The Narrative is the perfect phrase here, since absolutely the case for anyone who is not Lin, Sheng or Lang. Xie, who doesn't choose pride over expediency is ultimately at odds with the narrative itself. We, the audience, are here to see the characters live their ethos to the fullest, and test it - failing to live up to it means "you just won't be that interesting if we keep you around anymore". Characters, for all their likeability, are ingredients and tools the Urobuchi uses to tell the story. If all the juicy bits are used up when a season ends - no point in keeping the empty rinds around, yeah?

The timing of the poems is such a crucial thing here. That distinction - revealing them at the most interesting moment to reveal them - is a nice shift from tradition in away that suits the serial nature of TV quite well. Juan Can Yun's reveal is a key moment for him, and it cements his relationship as the Young Lover over the Young Apprentice, and paved the way for his relationship with Dan Fei to bring them together - the loving but bickering married couple, with Dan Fei as the serious and stern wife, with Juan Can Yun as the amorous, idiot husband. The moment of pursuing the ethos is transformative, turning a punchy shounen lead into a comic relief wife guy - still an archetypal role, but one not limited by strict boundaries.

Lang Wu Yao's growth is especially guaranteed since character design is basically Urbobuchi buttering up his voice actor and the performer of the show's themesong with a super sepcial OC. ;) Snark aside, though, I like that angle of ideological & ethical flexibility- of Lang not being so rigidly defined by his own definitions. By being able to re-interpet his ethos in ways that harmonize with his world rather than conflict against it, Lang is able to achieve character development. I still think he works best as a romantic hero (beautiful, talented, traumatic childhood, being torn between an evil woman and a good one), but one who can leverage his role into being proactive in his life, instead of reactive. $5 says it culiminates in him usurping the throne of Abelizpher through demon law and a refusal to let himself being walked over once he figures his shit out.

As an aside: your discussion in Lang Wu Yao's growth and his views on good & evil, especially through the lens of demons vs humans, tickles me. II find it especially delightful in East Asian media how creatures that are fundamentally devils/demons are shown to be much more human-like than I'm used to in Western fantastic traditions. The cultural Christianity I was steeped in held demons to be a fundamentally different order, incapable of anything like personal relationships and teleologically oriented towards inflicting misery. Seeing a character like Xing Hai be politically loyal to the invading faction that wants to do war, but she personally has no quibbles with individual humans (beyond Lin Xue Ya, but then again, so does everyone) . I rather like how the femme fatale demoness is actually pushed around by both her sister, her sister's awful boyfriend, the Divine Swarm,Lin Xue Ya - and I get the strong impression that she'd much rather be left alone to play with her corpses in peace. In a similar, fanficcy way to my Xie Ying Loa musings, I sometimes wonder if she might defect to humanity if she ever had a good enough motivation to do so. It's a bit of an ask to necessarily have her be morally decent and upstanding and penitent, but having Lang see that humans and demons are similar - and not turn that into an edgy take - could stand much to see someone from the Hell Realms who just can't catch a break and flip off the institutions the come from.

Having gotten my Fanfic impulse out,I think I want to return to Lin Xue Ya and his dangerous level of genre savviness. I think he's something of Urobuchi's author avatar, in a way - he's someone who's frightfully aware of the narratives people tell themselves to get through the world, and using that to play them how he desires. It's very much how an artists work their craft ("All storytellers are liars," as Tanith Lee teaches us). Seeing Lin break the fourth wall IS him screwing with us, as it's Urobuchi doing the same.

I do like that this doesn't make him necessarily infalliable - we've seen him misjudge several people and the kinds of stories they told themselves - and there is a bit of hypocrisy undergirding his conceit that he understands everyone in this show better than they themselves do. I think Lin just might truly be flummoxed and vulnerable to any true soul. Someone who understands their role in the story, and how they fit into it, and openly embraces their desires and misgivings and still does the right thing anyway is just the kind of fool who can overcome someone as cynically conceited as Lin.

You're absolutely correct in your final paragraph, especially: Urbobuchi loves this bonkers little budaixi, and you can tell that he's frolicking as he plays with a centuries-old theatrical convention and gets to play without the same franchise demands that something like Kamen Rider or Fate compels him to uphold. it's Urobuchi's world, and everyone - audience, characters, and production staff - are along for the ride. And I for one couldn't be happier

Some Thoughts on Power Levels in Thunderbolt Fantasy

@jafndaegur got me thinking about this, so strap in because this is a long one!

tl;dr: Narrative casuality is linear for characters and the audience, and non-linear for writers and analysts; power levels in Thunderbolt Fantasy are a perfect illustration of this, thanks for coming to my TED talk.

Fight scenes are a major component of Thunderbolt Fantasy, but who wins and who loses is determined less by the absolute power levels of the respective parties, but by the needs of the narrative. There's a tendency to think of it as the other way around because that's how it initially appears to us as viewers--we see the outcome and think one caused the other. However, this is an illusion caused by the way we experience media. From a structural and compositional standpoint, the reverse is true--the story dictates the outcome, not the other way around.

For an example, let's look at Lian Qi's ill-fated fight against Sha Wu Sheng in Season 1. On the surface, it looks like Wu Sheng is considerably stronger, since he was able to kill Lian Qi in one blow. However, consider that Lian Qi's death is required for the story to work--if he survived and Wu Sheng didn't, it would be a different story entirely! This isn't what is usually meant by the phrase "doomed by the narrative," but in this case, it's an accurate description of the situation--there is no power level Lian Qi could possibly possess that would save him from Wu Sheng, since Wu Sheng's presence is required for the story as it stands to work.

Lian Qi's narrative role is to serve as a sacrificial lamb for Wu Sheng--that's his one (1) job and he's very good at it. We know that Wu Sheng is powerful, because he was able to effortlessly destroy a man of considerable skill and power whom Lin Xue Ya had just spoken highly of in the preceding scene. Saying that this means that Wu Sheng is thus a stronger fighter may be true, but it's not particularly interesting as an isolated factoid; what matters is what the fight reveals about the characters (that Wu Sheng is ruthless and determined) and how it advances and serves the story (gets him the Soul Echo Flute and a chance to reunite with Lin Xue Ya).

In other words, strength/power is correlated with victory, but correlation is not causation, even though we tend to interpret it as such because we experience narratives linearly, where cause comes before effect.

The other important thing to consider is that characters in Thunderbolt Fantasy are not simply discrete individuals--they also represent specific moral or philosophical positions. When they clash, the "strength" of the character has as much to do with the strength of this position as it does their physical prowess. This is true for most if not all of Gen Urobuchi's works, but it's more explicitly textual in Thunderbolt Fantasy, because in-universe, the character's "sword" is viewed as an extension of the self; it is primarily through conflict that this self becomes fully revealed.

Perhaps the best example of this is Lin Xue Ya's fight with Mie Tian Hai, in which the latter is fighting to preserve his philosophy that strength through the sword can only be attained a certain way. His physical defeat and the shattering of that worldview occur simultaneously; furthermore, his identity is so wrapped up in this particular point that he immediately kills himself in response.

[As an aside: Mie Tian Hai's suicide out of spite is foreshadowed by Can Xiong doing the same thing in the first episode when Shang Bu Huan defeats him. Can Xiong is not merely a loyal subordinate; he is enacting the teachings embodied by his master. Say whatever else you will about Mie Tian Hai, at least he isn't a hypocrite--he practices exactly what he preaches. There's a reason I refer to the Xuan Gui Zong as a "death cult"!!]

Taken together, these two factors--narrative purpose and philosophical position--provide a useful framework to make sense of conflict, and thus power levels, in Thunderbolt Fantasy. Here are a few examples:

-Shang Bu Huan vs. Lang Wu Yao in Bewitching Melody of the West -- Shang is older and more experienced than Lang in many respects, so it makes sense that he would win out here. However, what settles his victory isn't his physical skill, it's his moral clarity and sense of purpose; he knows who he is and that his cause is righteous.

Meanwhile, Lang is powerful, with martial arts from his unique upbringing combined with the magic of his innate heritage, but he is also confused and morally compromised through his allegiance to the corrupt Xi You imperial court, which ultimately gives Shang the upper hand. Note that this fight ends when Shang directly calls out Lang's ideas of good and evil, and Lang loses the will to continue; his doubts and uncertainty make it impossible for him to win. The climax of the movie is Lang coming to an emotional realization and gaining a corresponding power-up/magical boy transformation to go with it. Changing his philosophy increased his strength, not the other way around!

As Season 2 demonstrates, Lang's narrow-minded focus on good and evil have not changed by the end of Bewitching Melody, he's just altered the definitions so that Shang is now one of the good guys, and taken agency over his decisions instead of being a mindless tool for anyone else. This rigidness will continue to hold him back until he adopts a broader and more mature philosophy. This is especially important, because the Huo Shi Ming Huang fight in S3 demonstrates vividly that Lang's powers are fueled by his emotions; when unchanneled, he is capable of incredible destruction. (There's so much about that scene that is wonderful from an analytical standpoint, but my favorite part is Ling Ya muttering, "Oh, buddy, no" [paraphrase] right before all hell breaks loose; Ling Ya, as Lang's self-appointed mouthpiece, knows what's up.)

-Speaking of Huo Shi Ming Huang, the flashback in S3x06 is one of the few times we've ever seen Shang on the back foot. Not coincidentally, this fight is also characterized by Shang's hesitation and doubts as to the best course of action, which create a cascade of consequences leading to a Bad Ending of Mu Tian Ming's blindness and Shang's subsequent departure from Xi You. I've written elsewhere about how this outcome is also narratively determined in advance by the events of Season 1, which were written first even though they occur later in-universe, to the point where there's an entire mini-arc devoted to showing just how necessary this particular loss was; for better or worse, the entire story of Thunderbolt Fantasy rests on it.

-Xie Ying Luo vs. Shang Bu Huan in S2x09, "The Path of the Strong" - Up to this point, Xie Ying Luo's fighting style has been the opposite of the standard wuxia code of honor--she uses illusions and poisons and takes hostages rather than fight one-on-one. As Lin Xue Ya wryly points out in 2x04, this is the best way of dealing with a powerhouse like Shang Bu Huan (he even says it would be how he'd take Shang down!!!) but it's strongly implied that Xie Ying Luo relies on these methods because she doubts her own strength. [How much of this is due to misogyny is unclear, but there's no question it's a factor; Ba Wang Yu's character in S4 suggests she has taken the opposite approach to the same systemic forces with her emphasis on physical strength.] Xie's arc is characterized by her uncertainty and doubts, which send her on an increasing downward spiral (exposure to Di Kong's nihilism does not help!); even wielding Seven Blasphemous Deaths isn't enough to overcome it. However, after freeing herself from the demonic sword's thrall, Xie Ying Luo makes the unexpected decision to fight Shang one on one with her sword, something she has spent the entire show up to this point avoiding.

This makes no goddamn sense from a tactical perspective, but it's not about tactics or even victory. On a practical level, Xie Ying Luo is saving face--she knows she can't win, but if Shang defeats her and takes Seven Blasphemous Deaths, she can at least say that she didn't completely abandon her duties. She may have lost the fight, but she retains her honor, even if it means she can never return to Huo Shi Ming Huang's service.

Shang recognizes this, which is why he is so gracious to her after her defeat--he respects the courage it took to show up in the first place, and encourages her to redefine what it means to be strong in the first place. Again, we return to the idea that true strength isn't physical prowess, but moral clarity and certainty, which Shang possesses in abundance--and is also willing to pass along to others. Season 2 goes to a lot of effort to demonstrate Shang's mercy and compassion are strengths, not weaknesses, and this scene is further evidence of this.

Shang also believes that fate is not fixed and that people are capable of growing and changing if they choose to do so, which again gives him power over those like Sha Wu Sheng and Lou Zhen Jie, who believe themselves to be instruments of inevitability. (This is also what makes Shang Bu Huan endlessly surprising and therefore interesting and entertaining to Lin Xue Ya, but that's a whole 'nother story.) Unfortunately, Xie Ying Luo is tragically murdered by the very weapon she gave up (and by a man she trusted!!) and never gets to fully realize this, but she tries, damn it, even if it wasn't enough to save her in the end. This is one reason why Lang Wu Yao buries her even though they were enemies, because on some level he recognizes and honors that attempt, despite the fact he wasn't there to witness exactly what transpired.

I should also point out that while moral strength is a source of power, it's not the be-all, end-all--one reason why Lou Zhen Jie is so terrifying is because he no longer doubts. His logic and reasoning might be unsound, but he is so single-mindedly focused on his goal that he can plow through any obstacle single-handedly (pun intended). This is also what makes him such a great foil to Shang Bu Huan on multiple levels; Lou Zhen Jie is what would happen if Shang were evil/misguided/less ethical than he actually was. This is why Shang fighting alone can match Lou Zhen Jie but cannot win without something else to tip the scales.

Here's a fight that's interesting precisely because it didn't happen: Lin Xue Ya vs. Sha Wu Sheng. One reason why Lin Xue Ya refuses to fight Sha Wu Sheng at any point in Season 1 is that it would require Lin to reveal himself openly and intimately in a way he has no desire to do. Furthermore, it would also clash with the needs of the story, i.e., the big reveal of Lin's abilities in the final episode. Lin is so confident in his own abilities that he has no need to "prove" himself by fighting; just as his narrative foil Shang has no need to "prove" his own strength by picking stupid fights and does everything he can to avoid them. The primary difference between the two is that Lin spares his enemies so he can savor their suffering, while Shang spares his enemies so they can do better in the future.

This is why Shang repeatedly and emphatically insists that he and Lin have nothing in common--he sees the commonalities but the differences repel him even more because of it. Note that Shang indirectly critiques Lin's approach when he tells Xie Ying Luo that a truly strong person can spare someone's life and not have them come after him in revenge.... in essence, arguing that Lin's whole approach is fundamentally misguided. (This is also the second time he's done this in conversation with Xie Ying Luo; the first time was in 2x01 when he unfavorably compared her technique to Lin's. For someone who claims to want nothing to do with this guy, he sure thinks about him a lot!) Shang also has no intention of killing Lou Zhen Jie in the climax of S2; all he wants is to take Seven Blasphemous Deaths away from him.

[This leads to fascinating questions like "How will Shang deal with Huo Shi Ming Huang?" and "Can the guy who believes in the supremacy of fate and seeks to become Fate itself ever break free of it?" which I think we'll see in the final movie, so TBD.]

I'll also note that there is a tendency in modern storytelling to have power as the limiting factor for characters, whereas myths and epics give their characters free reign to do whatever they want, and as a story about archetypal characters with superhuman abilities, I think Thunderbolt Fantasy leans more towards the latter in many respects. Characters have exactly enough power to do what narratively needs to get done, no more and no less, so in that sense, it's a very efficient system.

I'll stop here because this is very long and rambling and I think I've demonstrated my point: for something so seemingly obvious and matter of fact, "strength" and "power" in Thunderbolt Fantasy, let alone comparing that of one character to another, is far more challenging than it appears on the surface, and contingent upon both the character's moral stance and the larger narrative of which they are a part. It's both deeper and far more interesting than "Character X is stronger than Character Y" (even if character X is stronger than character Y!).