Savage Divinity

Blood burning at the prospect of righteous slaughter, Alsantset wanted nothing more than to join the battle unfolding before her, but even though she’d long grown weary of waiting, the situation dictated she continue to wait, so wait she did.

Ever since she learned of the First Imperial Grand Conference, she’d done nothing but wait. While little Rain fought on the floating stage and defeated his peers in front of the greatest audience the Empire had ever seen, she sat idle on the sidelines and cheered him on. When he was poisoned, she held her children close and waited while Papa cut open little Rain’s belly so the Medical Saint could treat the affliction. When he rode out to the front lines, she wanted to follow along in secret to protect him, but Papa refused to allow it because he worried she would coddle him, so again, she sat and waited while praying Dagen and the others could keep her little brother safe.

They couldn’t. They failed, and now little Rain was broken, because all she’d done was wait.

No longer. Her mind had been made up the moment the Justicar announced little Rain’s sentence, so she immediately left the banquet to call in every favour and beg every friend for help. She’d already pestered many in hopes they’d join Rain’s retinue, but aside from Maral, Gansun, and Charok’s drinking buddies, no one else wanted to play ‘wet-nurse’ for a ‘glory hungry foundling’, no matter how much she begged and pleaded. To her great surprise, things played out differently this time around, because once word spread of what the Justicars had done, Alsantset was inundated with volunteers looking to join her retinue. Not only would they be under her command instead of her little brother’s, but Yang Jixing’s blatant disrespect touched upon the People’s bottom line and ignited a fire within their hearts. Though little Rain’s parentage and reclusive habits made many wary of befriending him, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that the blood of the People flowed through his veins, and when it came down to it, the People would fight to protect their own.

Having not grown up among them, little Rain didn’t understand or appreciate the close ties which held the People together, so he never truly valued his place among them. He was grateful and it showed, but from the first day he arrived in the mountains, he saw himself as an outsider and because of this, the others treated him as such, but when it came right down to it, he was one of theirs, and they would not allow an outsider to run roughshod over him without a fight. As such, Alsantset’s problem wasn’t gathering enough Sentinels to fill her five-thousand man retinue, but rather having too many to choose from. Few things could unite a community faster than an external threat.

It also helped that many Sentinels already suspected they were being unfairly targeted by Disciplinary Corps during festive new year celebrations, handed out fines, citations, and punishments for minor transgressions which would otherwise be overlooked. Now, their actions made it clear they were targeting the People as a whole, infuriating any and all who’d been affected. Soon, the Empire would see firsthand how well the People could fight, but alas, she had no choice but to wait once again, this time for Lieutenant Colonel Mitsue Watanabe to give permission to join the battle.

So bothersome, this political nonsense, but little Rain insisted on playing by their rules. Better to trust in the strength of the People and meet whatever challenges awaited them head on, but she would listen to her brother and the Colonel General for now.

The minutes ticked by and the conflict raged on while Alsantset awaited her messenger's return, watching and studying as a soldier always should. In all his time spent on the front lines, little Rain only ever encountered Western Defiled, easily identified by their bared, sun-dried chests and human-leather head-wraps, but in the months since his injury, the conflict had scaled to heights never before seen. A more familiar brand of savages had made their way to Sinuji, the pale, rawboned Defiled she fought so often in the north. Clad in thick furs and padded leathers despite the warm Central winters, the colour of their skin and their manner of dress wasn’t all that set them apart from their Western counterparts, but also their style of battle. From what she gathered, the Western Defiled favoured dual-wielding short swords or katars to unleash flurries of fast, piercing attacks, but the Northern Defiled were a more straightforward bunch, preferring to swing their large, two-handed weapons in sweeping attacks which were rather hit or miss. A difference in ideologies between precision and power, one made necessary due to the differences in terrain and available resources, since Northern Defiled could hardly rely on precision while living in a land of near-eternal darkness, while the scorching hot native climate of the Western Defiled did not allow for extended bouts of strenuous activity, hence their preference to end fights fast.

Unfortunately for the Imperial defenders of Sinuji, the Northern Defiled were far more effective at assaulting defended positions than their Western counterparts simply because there was no room on the walls to dodge. Their cleaving attacks clearing the way, the Defiled stormed the fort walls with reckless fervour where soldiers of the Empire died trading blows with the surging tide of Defiled. The death toll grew exponentially as time wore on and the defenders grew tired, their arms heavy and lungs burning as they stood firm in the face of death, but brave and courageous they might be, grit and fortitude only went so far. All it took was one breach in the line, one gap into which the Defiled could gain a foothold on the wall, and the outer wall would be overrun in spectacular fashion.

And overrun it was, its staunch defenders slaughtered to the last after a quarter hour of fighting. Two inner walls still stood between the Defiled and ultimate victory, not to mention the open killing ground awaiting them in the fort’s courtyard, but even if Sinuji held today, the price would be dire indeed. If they didn’t hold, and it looked like they wouldn’t since Lieutenant Colonel Watanabe had yet to adjust his tactics or even ready his reserves, these Northern Defiled would hold the abhorrent honour of being the first to bring down a border fort. Seeing how there was little she could do to help from where she sat, Scrying on the battle was both a waste of Chi and self-inflicted mental abuse, but Alsantset could not bring herself to stop, for there was a good chance that none of these valiant soldiers would live to tell tales of their heroics, so the responsibility fell to her to bear witness and spread word of their sacrifice.

“Hmph.” Arriving at her side unnoticed, Nian Zu’s scornful grunt spoke volumes to his discontent. “How can Juichi be so talented, yet his kinsman so lacking? This Mitsue Watanabe is an untried fool, frozen with indecision when he must chop nails and sever iron.” Raising his voice, the grizzled veteran infused his words with Chi to be heard by the soldiers in Sinuji. “This is Colonel General Nian Zu of the North, taking temporary command over Sinuji and all military forces within. Obey my orders or face Military Punishment.”

Leaping into the sky, the Hero of the Wall set off for the fort at top speed while uttering orders in rapid fire sequence. With his cadre of fifty Peak Experts accompanying him, he made for a noble and gallant sight which filled Alsantset with awe and reverence. A faction with even ten Peak Experts to command was a force to be reckoned with, yet Nian Zu had fifty such warriors he trusted enough to bring along on this treacherous expedition, which meant he was confident none of those soldiers at his side would ever betray him to Imperial influences. Justified or not, his confidence spoke volumes to his character, and Alsantset looked forward to seeing this Living Legend in action.

Her orders soon arrived through Sending, so Alsantset readied to ride out, but not without hesitation. Though it would shame her to stand by and watch while citizens of the Empire were slaughtered by the Defiled, she’d come here to keep little Rain safe, because she didn’t trust the Death Corps assigned to him by the Legate. Loyal slave soldiers they might be, but their loyalties lay with the Imperial Clan rather than little Rain. Since recent events had shown his Imperial title held no weight with other Imperials, why would the Death Corps be any different?

Unfortunately, her foolish little brother didn’t see things the same way and trusted his Death Corps far more than he should. Had she not ignored his arguments and come along, then he would’ve been fine leaving his life in the hands of these nameless strangers, and Nian Zu’s speedy exit already showed where his priorities lay. Besides, the Colonel General had only come along in a supervisory position, here to oversee Rain’s punishment and ensure there was no foul play so ‘justice’ could be served, so if he simply took over as Rain’s commanding officer, he would be accused of nepotism and interfering with the Disciplinary Corps. A farce is what this all was, because favouritism was rampant in the Imperial Army, yet the Disciplinary Corps looked the other way more often than not.

Thankfully, little Rain was no longer the same shy recluse who preferred practice over play and begged leave to stay home every time there was a festival. In less than three years, he went from a Sentinel without rank to a Second Grade Warrant Officer, with hundreds of loyal soldiers willing to fight at his side, and most even willing to die for him. Led by Junior Brother Rustram, these former soldiers, bandits, and vagrants of the North had demanded Alsantset lead them to protect their beloved commander and comrades, and faced with such fervent devotion, she could not bring herself to refuse them. Though not the strongest soldiers available to her, she could rest easy knowing they guarded her precious little brother, because she knew they would die to the last to keep him safe.

Well, not the last. The Protectorate were mostly here to defend the Guardian Turtle, and a good number of former bandits were liable to cut and run if the situation grew dire, but Alsantset could count on the majority of them to stay true.

Probably.

Not that it mattered with the Royal Guardian turned Death Corps soldier Kuang Biao standing at little Rain’s side, as even the best of Alsantset’s Sentinels would find it difficult to keep Rain alive should the Peak Expert turn hostile.

...When did she become infected by her little brother’s pessimism? Shaking off her grave concerns, she left his life in the hands of Lin-Lin’s capable hidden protectors and rode off at the head of four thousand or so Sentinels and the remnants of little Rain’s quin-mounted contingent. Having divested themselves of everything except weapons, water, and ammunition, they made good time over the flat fields of Sinuji, the quins’ paws pounding away at the dirt while Alsantset led them around the flank of the Defiled horde. So engrossed in battle, the Enemy didn’t notice the quins until they were almost within bow-range, at which point it was already too late. Heedless of their deaths quickly approaching, a large force of Defiled broke off to engage Alsantset’s Sentinels, at least five thousand strong and growing as more of the blood-crazed maniacs noticed her presence.

Good. The more the merrier, and she only worried too few would follow...

Bow and quiver in hand, she commanded Suret continue north at a steady jog and hopped to her feet atop the quin’s back. Without need for an order, her Sentinels all followed suit, many eager for the first taste of warfare in the Central province. Spotting a number of little Rain’s soldiers trying to copy them with varying degrees of success, she spared their pride and ordered, “Bows only!” Their crossbows lacked the range of the Sentinel bows, and she would rather not start the battle with some fool falling off and breaking his neck. All but one of little Rain’s soldiers returned to their seats, a dark-skinned cutthroat named Ravil who flashed an impertinent grin when he noticed her attention. Since the man’s stance seemed stable enough and she knew he was a fair shot, she left him be and nocked an arrow to her bow. “Loose at will!”

There were few things as satisfying as unleashing the first volley against the Enemy. The whistle of arrows cut through the battle cries and thundering boots, and for a handful of precious seconds, the beautiful shriek was the only sound in the world. What followed next was almost as satisfying, the hiss of steel and wood piercing through flesh and bone setting Alsantset’s scalp to tingling as the symphony of screams responded to their barrage. The lucky ones died or passed out before they hit the ground, where the living were promptly trampled to death by the passing of their eager comrades. Hard to say which caused more deaths, Sentinel arrows or Defiled boots, but she was happy either way.

Before the first wave of arrows hit, Alsantset sent three more following in their wake, never slowing while making ever so minor adjustments to her aim as the Defiled drew closer and closer to her lines. When only three-hundred metres separated them, she dropped down to Suret’s back and bellowed, “Withdraw!” Her quin picked up the pace and led the Defiled infantry on a merry chase north of Sinuji, and Alsantset continued to loose arrows whenever she could, though she was careful not to overwork herself and kept an eye on the less experienced Sentinels around her. Seeing Ravil plucking away at his bow without a care for conserving his strength, she Sent, “Slow down soldier. With only your upper body strength to draw your bow, you will quickly exhaust yourself if you continue at this pace, and we still have a long battle to fight.”

“Thanks for the advice, Major,” Ravil Sent back, turning around to bask in her surprise. One of eight surviving former soldiers from Sanshu, the dusky archer had come a long way since his time in the army, a raw recruit with little to no potential now a dangerous Martial Warrior in his own right, one forged in the fires of war and bloodshed.

Perhaps this visit to the front lines wouldn’t be so terrible after all. At least Alsantset could finally hone her Martial skills on the field of battle once again, having grown out of practice thanks to her peaceful home life. She loved her children to bits and would never regret settling down to raise them, but there were times where her half-tiger instincts drove her to the brink of madness demanding she go out and survey her territory to protect it from rivals. Utter absurdity considering she had no need for vast swathes of territory to sustain herself or her family, but those instincts would never go away, not if Papa was any indication, unable to sit still for more than a season before riding out in search of a fight.

As much as he loved his family, Papa’s first love would always be battle, and the rest of them had come to accept it, but Alsantset swore long ago that she would not follow in his footsteps, not in this. She was a mother, a wife, a sister, and a daughter first, and soldiering would always come second to family.

Though weary from a long day of travel, roosequin endurance was more than a match for the Defiled legs and lungs, meaning that without cavalry of their own, they were left to the mercy of Alsantset’s Sentinels. After twenty minutes of chasing, the pack of pursuing Defiled had grown thin and tired so she slung her bow across her back, took up her spear, and sounded the charge, crashing headlong into the fray to slaughter her foes. Hardly a satisfactory battle, killing exhausted Defiled who were already panting from exertion, but the brief clash was still enough to set her blood to singing, and exceedingly effective to boot. The foul stench of death was soon all she could smell, and if she were to guess, her four thousand riders had likely killed four times their number in Defiled with bow and spear, while distracting close to thrice that from the walls of fort Sinuji. In doing so, they saved untold Imperial lives by alleviating the pressure on the beleaguered defenders while the foolish Enemy infantry ran after her Sentinels and the survivors walked back.

Not bad, but the hunt had only just begun. Checking Suret to make sure she could still go on, Alsantset walked the quins for ten minutes before trotting back to the battlefield, where she repeated the same tactic with similar results. Since the melee combat was entirely without suspense, she arranged it so that a different batch of riders led the charge each time, so that everyone would have a chance to claim a kill in their first battle on the front lines. Of course, she herself led from the front every time, which was simply a perk of rank; If the others didn’t like it, then they could attain rank for themselves and face public scrutiny like she did.

There were plenty who could do so of course, since she was hardly the strongest warrior present, outclassed by many outstanding talents of several generations, most of whom cared little for rank or recognition. Tenjin and Tursinai’s strength needed no explanation, and Jochi and Argat were formidable foes when they weren’t playing the fool, which accounted for the warriors in her generation. Then there was the ever cheerful Dagen, always smiling these days after his marriage to Bulat’s mother, Maira, and a capable warrior strong enough to match her, if not defeat her outright. Of course, there were also the former bannermen, fifteen in total, all here to protect the little foundling they’d brought home, led by Huushal’s mother and Mentor, the fearsome half-bear Ghurda.

The most pressure, however, came not from Alsantset’s seniors in the retinue, but from her juniors instead. From what little she saw, young Huu might soon be a close match, with his powerful blows and unyielding demeanour as he scythed through the Defiled uncontested. Then there were the two young talents who stood at the heart of this matter, Dastan and Sahb, both twenty-four years young and already Domain capable Experts. While she was confident she could defeat either one in a fair fight to the death, victory would not come easily or without cost since she had yet to Develop a Domain herself. Even if she had, she would still be considered young since she was still a few years shy of thirty five, but Dastan, Sahb, and her little brother were all monstrous talents the likes of which had never before been seen.

Oh, poor, sweet, Rain, if only they’d arrived even fifteen minutes sooner, then they might’ve spared him from this cruel twist of fate. The most talented Martial Warrior in ten-thousand years, now a cripple who could barely walk without aid...

After five repetitions of her simple bait and switch, this battle for Sinuji was all but won save for a few stragglers still holding out on the ramparts, so Alsantset Sent a request to stand down and received permission instantaneously. Having run the quins ragged for well over an hour now, she ordered her people off the animals and walked everyone back to Rain’s position, where she found him dug in with a small, but sturdy formation of Death Corps infantry backed by Protectorate longbows, mechanical crossbows, and the curious, but unwieldy cattle chariots. There were even a half-dozen portable catapults laid out and ready to launch, though Alsantset didn’t think they’d be of much use out here on the open field. Better if they were placed in a tower overlooking the fort defences, where they’d be free to rain death down upon the Defiled waiting to scale the walls.

“Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo.” Before she could even greet little Rain, the aged Abbot appeared before her with palms pressed together. “If it is permissible, this monk would like to give last rites to the dead.”

“No dead here, reverend,” she replied, her tone as warm and relaxed as could be. “A few scratches which the Healers will see to, but I am sure the soldiers in the fort will appreciate your efforts.” The ones still living, at least. The dead likely didn’t care too much about last rites anymore. Already Jigari and Abjiya were making their way through the ranks to tend to the wounded, though oddly enough, they saw to the injured quins first while their companions tended to the Sentinels. Rain had mentioned something about Panacea being used on animals, but this was her first time seeing it in person. While unable to make out what they were doing, she could tell by the quins’ warm reception that the Healing was working and they appreciated the gesture, which made Alsantset want to spend more time practising her little brother’s ‘easy’ Healing method, if only to keep Suret safe.

Even though Alsantset would never let the quin sleep in her bedroom like little Rain was wont to do, sweet Suret deserved to live a long and happy life, with plenty of adorable pups to raise and cuddle...

“This monk speaks not of Imperial dead,” the Abbot replied, his voice and expression equally deadpan. “This monk means to offer last rites to the Defiled dead.”

...Madness. Sheer madness. “Absolutely not. If the Imperial soldiers see you, there will be riots and bloodshed. See to the Imperial dead, monk, and if you must offer the Defiled last rites, then do so privately where none can see. If you cannot agree, then remove yourself from this retinue, for I will not ride with Defiled sympathizers.”

“Such anger, such sin.”

Not in the mood for a long-winded lecture, Alsantset fixed the Abbot with her best glare and his mouth snapped shut, because while prayers and rites were fine for monks, the Mother helped those who helped themselves, and there was no one around to help the Abbot. Pleased by his pragmatism, she sauntered over to her brother’s side and accepted the damp towel he had ready for her. Just by accepting the towel, she felt more refreshed and unburdened, pleased by the man he grown into in the years since they’d first met. A thoughtful boy who loved his family and never asked for anything, but she’d rather he be a little more selfish at times, especially since he would rather run off and die than ask the People to fight for him, an altruistic, charitable soul too good for this world.

No matter. Crippled or not, Alsantset intended to see him live a long and happy life, the same as Suret. If not, then she would either die keeping him safe, or die avenging his death, because if he should fall thanks to Yang Jixing’s schemes, then she would hold not only the Prime Minister and the Yang Family culpable, but the Imperial Clan as a whole. The People fought for the Empire because they counted themselves a part of it, but should the Empire reject them, then so be it. If Falling Rain were to die at the hands of the Imperial Clan, then as their figurehead, the Emperor would follow soon after, even if Alsantset had to work with the reviled Enemy to do it.

Chapter Meme