Savage Divinity

Breathing easier in the wake of the Justicar’s departure, I quietly pledge to commit less crimes in the future, or at the very least, get better at hiding them.

It’s not like I’m out robbing and pillaging to my heart’s delight, but I do tend to skirt around the law whenever possible. The way I see it, if my enemies aren’t playing by the rules, then why should I? I figured it’d be easy to commit crimes in the Empire because there are no cameras or forensic investigations, but what I didn’t take into account was that the standard of proof required to convict is apparently incredibly low. If even the Justicars can’t be counted on to play fair and pass impartial judgments, then it’s only a matter of time before I’ll have no choice but to ask Mom and Dad to step in and flip the board. Not a prospect I look forward to considering there’s no turning back from open rebellion, but in light of Mom’s violent outburst earlier, it almost seems like she can’t wait to start slaughtering Imperials. While she’s calmed down and looking pleased as punch now, I’d rather not see the Bekhai dragged into a revolution over little old me. I have enough remorse as it is dealing with the death of my soldiers, and I don’t need to add thousands of Khishig deaths to my already overburdened conscience.

If we were closer to the Saint’s Tribulation Mountains or even just the Northern Province in general, I might be convinced to cut our losses and head home, but here on the border between West and Central, we’re sandwiched between the Imperials and Defiled. If we rebel, we’d have to fight our way out of the citadel, head two-hundred and fifty kilometers north to SuiHua, commandeer enough boats and supplies for fifteen-thousand Khishigs and their families, then break through a series of blockades which are already in place to stop Defiled naval forces from making their way deeper into the Empire, all before even setting foot in our home province. Powerful as the Bekhai are, I doubt we’d even make it to SuiHua given the sheer number of loyal Imperial soldiers around, and I’d hate to force my allies to pick a side.

Not that I expect it’d be a difficult decision. Talking about rebellion is one thing, but actually rebelling over such a stupid issue? Even BoShui might have second thoughts...

Despite the gravity of our situation, I can’t help but smile at Luo-Luo’s reaction to this whole endeavour, sitting slumped in her chair and taking deep breaths while Yan fans her face. So dramatic, but she tends to get like this when it comes to matters with Imperial Nobles, and she’s been utterly overwhelmed by this minor skirmish with the Disciplinary Corps. Squeezing her fingers to reassure her, I try not to think about how small my hands look next to hers and wrack my brain for something reassuring. “Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure this was all a bluff. Shock and awe, you know, scare me into submission by threatening to expose my crimes, but they probably won’t go through with it. I mean, it’s a terrible idea considering how many people it’ll offend, and a few crimes won’t completely tarnish my sterling reputation. Worst comes to worst, I’ll make a big public apology, pay the fines, and head off to the front lines, though I refuse to hand over my people.” I’ll probably have to smuggle them out or something. This would be so much easier if GangShu were here, because then I could lump all my former bandits into the Mother’s Militia and blame their crimes on him. He already took credit for their heroics before and during the battle of Sanshu, so this is just an extension of that.

“Pei.” No longer restrained by Alsantset and the Justicar’s presence, Mom’s pleasant mood dissipates as she smacks the dining table with a growl. “Absolutely not! You know as well as I that going to the front lines would mean your death, and I do not mean at the hands of the Defiled. I would sooner consign Heaven and Earth to the Father’s Maw than watch you go meekly to your doom.”

Both warmed and horrified by the statement, I let go of Luo-Luo and shuffle over to comfort Mom before her blood-pressure reaches critical levels. Kissing her on the cheek, I hug her tight and smile as she clings to my wrist, as if to ensure I won’t fly away. “Much as I appreciate the sentiment, I think a trip to the front lines wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Yes, my enemies might try to have me killed, but it won’t be so easy, especially since I think the Legate expected a trip to happen. Last we met, he spoke of offering assistance, and the next day, he sent Brother Biao to join my Honour Guard. We all thought this was meant to offend the Yangs, but what if the Legate knew Jixing would accuse me of these crimes?”

“Of course!” Recovering from her stupor, Luo-Luo bolts upright in her chair, her eyes lighting up in realization as she lays it all out for us to understand. “Had Lord Husband not pointed out the flaws in the Justicar’s judgment, then he would have been stripped of rank and sent to the front lines in less than an hour’s time, but he would still have his title and command of his Honour Guard. With a young and talented Peak Expert by his side, our enemies would have to think twice before sending someone to assassinate him, and even if Lord Husband were to be placed in an untenable position against the Defiled, Brother Biao could easily bring him away to safety. Thus, as long as Lord Husband lives, Yang Jixing must continue to commit resources to dealing with him, leaving Lord Husband’s Patron free to stir up discord amongst the people of the Empire and turn them against the Disciplinary Corps for forcing a crippled hero into such dire straits.”

“Yea…” I totally thought of all that. Not really. I got as far as, ‘Kuang Biao protects me’, which isn’t terrible. What Luo-Luo said makes sense though, and I can’t help but look down on Jixing for not seeing the obvious. Does he really think no one will blink twice if he orders a cripple into an active war-zone, or arrests soldiers for crimes they were absolved of? “Anyway, given this information, I don’t think it’d be the worst thing in the world if I paid a visit to the front lines. I could make a big fuss about how this wasn’t my choice while also showing everyone I’m beaten, but not defeated, you know? Plus, Ping Ping is pretty popular and I know there are plenty of soldiers and camp followers who like to stop by and offer a prayer, which will earn me some much needed goodwill.” The big girl doesn’t seem to particularly care for their piety, but she doesn’t mind it either. I wonder how people would react to learning there was an actual Divine Turtle hiding in Mama Bun’s floof…

“It’s dangerous,” Mom says, clearly unhappy with the idea but leaving the final decision in my hands, which given my history, seems like a terrible idea.

Even then, my mind is made up. “Less dangerous than the alternative.” I’m always leery about mentioning rebellion out loud, even here in the safety of our home where Mom says I can speak freely. I miss Sending. So much easier to criticize and complain when you don’t have to worry about anyone overhearing. “No point arguing about it now though. It’s possible the Justicars won’t even take away my rank now that I’ve pointed out how dumb Jixing’s plan is, but a voluntary trip could be used to show I’m being pressured. Honestly, I’m kinda disappointed in how incompetent he’s been so far. The Legate has plans within plans, while Jixing just throws tantrums. I expected more from an Imperial Scion.”

“A novel way of seeing things.” So quiet I’d almost forgotten he was here, Du Min Gyu gestures at his empty teacup and I head over to fill it. A little annoying considering I’m crippled and the teapot is right beside him, but he’s not purposely making things difficult, just not accustomed to pouring his own tea. Nodding in thanks, he sips his tea with a steady hand and steely gaze as he studies me closely. “Most people of the Empire would balk at even speaking ill of an Imperial Scion, much less outright defying one, to say nothing of the Justicars. You’ve a distinct lack of reverence few can match, one which allowed you to navigate through this trial in a unique manner even the sharpest political minds might not have considered. As for your disappointment… this Yang Jixing is a young man, I presume? One of high birth and accustomed to having his every whim fulfilled?” Seeing my nod, the old man shrugs. “Thus, while the plan might seem foolish from our perspective, Jixing likely sees the issues as insignificant and easily dealt with. Even if he should offend multiple powerful officials of the Empire and heap dirt upon the sterling reputation of the Disciplinary Corps, he is still an Imperial Scion of high standing, so who will make trouble for him? He’s likely more concerned about regaining lost face from your refusal, as his personal reputation will suffer once others learn he was rebuffed by a mere ‘savage’.” Smiling to show he means no offense, he sighs and shakes his head while flashing a wry smile at Yan. “Licentious though your betrothed may be, at least he’s proven himself steadfast. Contesting against an Imperial Scion to keep his Consort, the playwrights will work day and night to be the first to tell this tale.”

The statement earns me a gratified blush from Luo-Luo and a smile that’s not quite a smile from Yan as she wrestles with her jealousy. Mila had the same issue all last night during Yan’s welcome party, which leaves me worried for the future. Lin aside, the other ladies in my life aren’t exactly brimming with enthusiasm at the prospect of sharing me, but the only ideas I can come up with to convince them to get along read like a script from a bad budget porno. As fun as it would be to try and sex my wives into friendship and submission, I doubt I have the skills or stamina to do so, though Yan didn’t seem put off by it last night…

Dammit. I really owe the Legate big for his tofu pudding. I’ll still probably die on my wedding night with Mila, but at least I can handle normal sex...

“Luo-Luo, pick out some works of art to gift to the Legate, as belated thanks for his support.” And to show Jixing that if he sets the Justicars on me for looting, then he’s going to have to ask the Legate to hand over the ill-gotten goods. The little brat might not care about pissing off Marshals and Magistrates, but I doubt he’ll be so quick to move against Shen ZhenWu. In fact, it’s probably better if he does, because like Luo-Luo said, that’d give the Legate a reason to step in. “Are there any unrelated people in power I can drag into this too? We should send them gifts as well.” Get rid of as much stolen property as we can while simultaneously bringing unrelated people into this mess. I mean, I did the same thing when I first got back from Sanshu, but now it’s just a matter of increasing scale. “Also, do we have anything which is definitely not stolen, but we can arrange to look like it was stolen?” Seeing everyone’s questioning gaze, I shrug and explain, “I figured we could send Jixing a ‘stolen’ gift to make it seem like I’m taunting him. If he has enough restraint to swallow his anger, then all we’ve done is annoy him a bit, but if he takes the bait and sends the Justicars after me on erroneous charges, then he loses face again, maybe even enough to send him running home. Sounds good, right?”

“No.”

“Terrible idea.”

“Why poke the dragon?”

“Brilliant!” Mom, Alsantset, and Du Min Gyu all shoot my idea down at once, but Luo-Luo is positively glowing with admiration. So excited she doesn’t even notice the stares, she explains, “In conflict amongst Imperial Scions, the greatest loss comes not from death or defeat, but by being manipulated or deceived by one’s foes, and doubly so if it leads one to harm one’s self or one’s allies. Such was Lord Husband’s Patron’s intent in this conflict between Lord Husband and Yang Jixing, to sit back and watch the Prime Minister’s son kick an iron board, but Lord Husband’s level-headed reaction to the Justicar’s accusations may have ruined those schemes. Now Lord Husband can make it up to his Patron with a simple amendment to his plans. Instead of delivering the deceptive gift to Jixing, it would be better if we secretly gave it to Lord Husband’s Patron instead. Then, all we need do is quietly spread word of the ‘stolen’ art in our possession, and when Jixing makes his move against us, then he inadvertently moves against Shen ZhenWu, who will be more than happy to slap the little upstart down, provided we inform him of our plans in advance.”

“...What?”

Thankfully, I’m not the only one confused by Luo-Luo’s explanation, and even the politically savvy Du Min Gyu seems lost, but Luo-Luo assures us this is the optimal play. After hammering out the details, Luo-Luo rushes off to falsify documents and forge artwork, because apparently she knows how to do both. Despite my earlier pledge, I can think of a hundred different ways to use Luo-Luo’s art skills, none of which involve selling art, but in the interest of good behaviour, I banish those thoughts to the void. In truth, I file them away for when things get desperate, and make a mental note to find out if it’s actually illegal to forge another noble’s seal, and what the penalty for doing so would be. Let’s be real, forged documents would make my life so much easier when navigating the crooked world of merchants and caravans, not to mention how the wrong letter in the right hands could do a lot of damage.

Like say... What would happen if Rang Min were to find a love letter written by an ally and addressed to his wife?

...No, that’s too cruel. It’d probably get the wife killed. Same thing, but the love letter addressed to him?

...Awkward, but probably not too damaging. Whatever. I’ll think of something.

Wrapping up our eventful breakfast, everyone heads out to watch the twins Demonstrate the Forms, but I beg leave to go back to bed on account of tossing and turning all night. It’s not until I’m in front of my room that I realize what Yan’s blush, Alsantset’s knowing smile, and Du Min Gyu’s glare meant, and I mentally kick myself for my poor choice of words, but it’s too late to go back and explain now. Scurrying into my room before Du Min Gyu snaps out of his shock, I call out over my shoulder and say, “Brother Biao, if you could join me inside?”

This is the real reason I wanted to step away, so I could spare Kuang Biao’s dignity while I question him. Marching into my room without a word, the former Royal Guardian ignores my non-verbal suggestion to take a seat and stands before me at full attention, a tall, handsome man with broad shoulders and a slim waist. Svelte, rather than muscular, a corded whip of a man, though the heavy Death Corps plate armour can make anyone look bulky and imposing. I’ve been trying to show him I won’t treat him like a slave and encourage him to be himself, but the young Peak Expert has wholly embraced the Death Corps persona as if born to it, though he’s far less enthusiastic about my safety than the others. He even tried to convince me to call him by his new designation, Red One, but not only is this dehumanizing, it’s also needlessly confusing since I now have to relearn everyone else’s new numbers.

Seriously, I should just give the Death Corps soldiers names, but I don’t want to come up with three-hundred and sixty of them...

Since Kuang Biao is determined to stand and I’m not petty enough to order him to sit, I settle down in my walker and hammer out how to word my questions properly. I don’t want to straight up ask what he knows, because I don’t want to accidentally trigger any conflicting Oaths, an issue he informed me of the day he joined my Honour Guard. As a Death Corps soldier, he’s Oathsworn to obey my commands and answer my questions, but after swearing his Death Corps Oaths, Jixing also made him swear an additional one to never reveal any Yang family secrets. I figured those sorts of Oaths would be standard fare for Royal Guardians serving the Five Supreme Families, but demanding strict Oaths from non-slave subordinates is generally frowned upon for the same, traditional reason why Justicars don’t just drag Martial Warriors off and make them confess their crimes under Oath: because history has shown that Martial Warriors won’t stand for it.

Powerful, superhuman warriors don’t respond well to overbearing and restrictive demands. Who would’ve thunk it?

There’s a thin line between obedience and servitude, but one the Empire treads carefully, making sure to clearly delineate the difference between slave and free person even if the result isn’t all that different. Sure a peasant could defy orders from a powerful Martial Warrior, but it’s probably not the best idea to do so if the peasant wants to keep breathing. The same could be said of a former Number One Talent of the Empire and an Imperial Scion, but what can I say? I have issues with authority.

I always thought the general aversion to Oaths was because they hinder you from reaching the Martial Peak. You don’t see a lot of Oath-Sworn slaves reaching Peak Expert status, but apparently, it’s only rare and not unheard of. It’s possible I’m still right and Oaths do restrict progress along the Martial Path, but I’m not certain it’s entirely magical, as it could just be a matter of motivation. Why get stronger if you’re still going to be a slave? Regardless of the reasons, Oaths are a matter of last resort, reserved to prove innocence in the face of overwhelming evidence, rather than as an investigative tool, which is great for me because way too many people know my secrets.

Sadly, Jixing is better at covering his tracks, so if I ask Kuang Biao point blank about the little shit-stain’s plans, the former Royal Guardian will probably choke to death on his tongue. “Aside from the Defiled,” I say, triple checking for paradoxes as I go, “If I were to go to the front lines, what sort of threats do you think I might face?”

“Traitorous schemes to leave your troops under-equipped and unsupported, nefarious plots to order you into danger, and Imperial assassins masquerading as Wraiths.” The answer comes immediately, but no more is forthcoming.

“What about something like poison?”

“Unlikely.” Rationing his words like they’re precious jewels, Kuang Biao only explains once he can no longer ignore my raised eyebrow in good conscience. “Poison would raise too many questions, for it is not a tool the Enemy would use.”

Guess I won’t need a food taster then. Good thing too, because there is nothing more unappetizing than eating someone else’s leftovers, even if they’ve only taken a single bite. “If left with only my Honour Guard, how confident are you of keeping me alive?” Not only is he the strongest warrior amongst my Death Corps, Kuang Biao is also the only with proper training in battlefield tactics, which means if he thinks I’ve no chance of survival, then he’s probably right.

“One-hundred percent.”

What? So high? Well this might not be a terrible idea after all. “What about the rest of the Honour Guard? How many casualties might we expect?”

“One-hundred percent.”

...Well fuck. He’s confident he can keep me alive because he doesn’t intend to stick around and fight. “So if I go to the front lines, anyone I bring with me will die?”

“Undoubtedly.”

“...How can I change this?”

“This is beyond Great One’s ability.” This time, Kuang Biao doesn’t need prompting to continue, as if he enjoys telling me how it is. “Unless Great One knows a commander who is both virtuous to a fault and utterly without weakness, lacking in greed, past mistakes, dark secrets, or beloved friends and family who can be used against them, then the death of Great One’s honour guard is all but certain should he march off to the front lines.”

“What if I brought more allies? Like my friends and their retinues?”

“Then they might be the first to turn against you.” Shrugging at my surprise, Kuang Biao says, “Not all share your indifference towards Imperial authority, and those in power often have the most to lose. Even if your friends remain true, their soldiers may not, which means every soldier you see may be an assassin hiding in plain sight.” Softening at my disheartened expression, he adds, “It would be best if Great One remains in the Citadel regardless. This one has read the reports of Great One’s last battle, and it appears the Enemy places much value on your death, or at least this Emissary Gen does.”

“Yea, what can I say. People love to hate me.” I didn’t think going to the front lines would be such a big deal. I figured I’d head over to Sinuji with Ping Ping, say hi to Hongji and other old friends, smile at the crowd and maybe shake a few hands, then head on home where it’s safe and sound, but I suppose it won’t be so easy. I suppose I should cancel my travel plans, but depending on how Jixing reacts, I might not have a choice if he goes public with my crimes. I can argue my case, but I doubt I’ll win, which means bad times ahead. A shame the Tyrant’s research has stalled and Taduk’s been too busy to help, but no matter. Worst comes to worst, I can leave most of my retinue behind to minimize casualties, which still sucks, but is making the best of a bad situation.

After bidding Kuang Biao farewell, I sit in the gloomy darkness of my room and stare at the wall, where my crumbling Spiritual Weapons sit above the last few gourds of Chi Tea I’ve kept. Hoping things might be different this time around, I close my eyes, steady my breathing, and reach for Balance, but find only searing agony awaiting me in the darkness behind my eyelids. The Legate’s tofu pudding did a lot for my recovery, but my Core is as shattered as ever and the Void utterly out of reach. If I still had my strength, I might challenge Yang Jixing right here and now, but I’d be stupid to do so. Aside from the brief period of time when I supposedly became a Water-Wielding Peak Expert, even at my best, I’m probably no match for an Imperial Noble, especially one confident enough to antagonize the Legate, a man holding the title of Divine True Warrior. The Seneschal warned me that there were plenty of youths in the East who could readily defeat me, and I don’t doubt Jixing is one of them, not to mention the shadowy presence who put Ping Ping on her guard that first night we met him.

Being weak sucks donkey dick, but recovering isn’t enough. Even if I return my awesome-but-accidental water-wielding prowess, all I’ll be is another Peak Expert, not even a speed bump to the behemoth that is the Imperial Clan. Still, I can’t just give up because it won’t be easy, so instead of going back to bed, I pull out ink and a metal pen to write letters warning all my allies of Jixing’s threat, as well as another letter asking Broken Blade Pichai for an audience. This will be my third letter to him without a response, but until he outright refuses, I’ve no choice but to keep trying.

That said, I know better than to put all my eggs in one basket, so once all my letters are written and handed off to be delivered, I set to working on my last resort and lift the top of my table to reveal a hidden compartment underneath. Inside, there are eighteen books which could hold the secret to fixing my ruined body, but could also get me into a lot of trouble if anyone learns I have them in my possession. As much as I’d like to burn the books and never look back, this would be tantamount to burying my head in the sand and hoping things work out for the best, so I grab the first book, steel my nerves, and open it up to read.

I need to explore every option I have, no matter how unsavoury it might be.

Experiment one. Subject is male, seventeen years old, peasant of common birth and below average build, measuring at...

...sixty hours in and still no sign of progress. Resorting to more extreme measures. Note: procure multiple test subjects at once to limit downtime in case of subject death.

...heart still beating even with chest cavity open. Will expire without Healing to sustain subject. Taxing and inefficient. Reduce effort required by physically gagging next subject to eliminate distracting screams.

Test subject expired, no signs of physical change in moments before death. Note: arrange separate room for future experiments, or devise more sanitary methods of inducing pain and trauma.

Disgusted as I am by the book’s horrific and unhelpful contents, I continue reading in hopes of finding salvation. Today’s visit from the Justicar was only Jixing’s first move, and there will be a second and a third, if not from him, then from another like him. All this is happening because I’m no longer a promising young talent, but if I recover, then maybe things will go back to how they were before. I need to be strong again, and if I can’t reach Heaven in a single bound, then I’ll do it one step at a time, even if I have to start over from the beginning. I’ll get there eventually, with or without help. I believe it.

So long as I have enough time.

...

I wonder if I can convince Pong Pong that Jixing tastes like shrimp? His death should buy me a few months or so, right?

Chapter Meme