Savage Divinity

“Thank you for your service.”

“The Mother guide your hand in battle.”

“Your bravery is an inspiration to us all.”

Cheeks sore from fake-smiling so much, I utter an endless stream of banal platitudes while shaking hands with reluctant soldiers returning from their duties, a twice-daily part of my efforts to Lay on Succ as many Tainted warriors as I can. Unfortunately, those most in need of a good Succ tend to avoid me at all costs, something I learned from hearing about Song’s experience with the Spectres, so all this glad-handing is hardly worth the effort. To make matters worse, my actions appear to be alienating those most sympathetic to my cause, as nine out of ten people who approach me are here to listen to the Abbot’s chants or say a prayer in front of Ping Ping, and my ‘pandering’ is getting in the way of their religious solace. They’re here to pray to the Guardian Turtle or seek benediction from a Holy Monk, and in their eyes, I’m an opportunistic cripple taking advantage of my connections to garner support against my political foes. No one likes to be used, and even the lowliest of Martial Warriors are a prideful bunch, for they are truly the one percent.

Truth be told, I’d love nothing more than to leave these people alone to go play with my floofs, but I don’t have a choice in the matter. To most Imperial citizens, Spectres are an unknown and unseen threat and nuisance to be endured or otherwise dealt with, but to me, they’re a resource to be harvested and turned into sweet Heavenly Energy. Were I still capable of Devouring, I’d lurk about the periphery and leave these soldiers in peace, but after getting hit by the nerf-hammer, my Succ range is touch only. Technically, I’m not even Devouring anymore, but rather the Spectres are willingly switching targets and latching onto me, as if I’m an upgrade to whatever poor soul they were previously stuck to. Even Ulfsaar, the most appealing target in my retinue, is no match for my siren’s song, and the Spectres who were previously squatting inside Ulfsaar’s body promptly uprooted their lives to move into my shattered Core.

It begs the question: if I’m so tempting a target, why aren’t the Spectres coming from afar and swarming me in droves? Why do I have to make skin contact with the Tainted before the Spectres become aware of my charms? It has to be skin contact too, I can’t pat someone on the back or tap them with a boot, which makes it awkward when I come across someone Tainted and wearing gloves, forcing me to slide a finger under their sleeve or touch their face. Ordinarily, this sort of embarrassing social interaction would have me running for the hills and contemplating if life was still worth living, but considering the stakes at hand, shame and humiliation are a small price to pay if I can mend my Core and regain my former vigour and well-being.

Of course, I’m probably still a long ways off from a cure considering I have no idea how I’m supposed to turn the Spectres into Heavenly Energy without access to Chi, but since they aren’t whispering murderous thoughts, I might as well gather as many as I can. Hope is great, but I’m tempering it with realistic expectations, because even if I can’t fix my Core, I can still keep soldiers from turning full Defiled. The Abbot is no longer convinced this is the best way to go about it, since Huu’s ancient multi-Grand Grand Mentor brought up a pretty good point about people needing to learn how to deal with the Spectres on their own, but the chatty Abbot is still mulling over his final decision as whether Succing Spectres is right or wrong, which leaves me free to do whatever I please.

And me, I choose to Succ. I’m sick of getting pricked by fur whenever I hug my floofs, so I’ll do anything to get better, even if I have to Succ every soldier in Sinuji one at a time.

...

I should stop calling it Succ.

As my fourth day in Sinuji comes to a close, I wave goodbye to the soldiers on the wall while Ping Ping waves with me, eliciting a chorus of smiles and returned greetings from her most die-hard fans. The big girl picked up the trick after seeing me praise all my other animals for doing the same, no doubt tempted by the prospect of treats and affection, of which she gets plenty of once we’re back in camp. Leaning against her smooth, leathery shoulder, I have my dinner beside her with Lin, Luo-Luo, Song, and Alsantset, as private an affair as we can manage here in the fort. There isn’t much of note for us to talk about, but it doesn’t matter since everyone present knows about my aversion to social interactions and love for silence and solitude. After a tasteless but nourishing dinner of soft jerky and hard bread, I keep everyone company for a little while longer before bidding them goodnight. Tasking Kuang Biao to take first shift of guard duty, I leave him outside my tent while I crawl inside with a lit lantern to do a bit of private reading, though there will be nothing enjoyable or relaxing about it. Before I left, I told myself to give Fung’s torturer/manservant his books back, but the allure of forbidden knowledge was too much to resist, so I packed Zhen Shi’s notes into a small chest and brought them along with me. Rather than keep them under lock and key, I also brought two dozen other ‘mislabelled’ books which were filled to the brim with pornographic drawings and literary erotica I’d collected over the years, though I admit most of it is fairly new. It’d be suspicious if I went to great efforts to hide a few books, so tucking a bunch of dirty drawings between the pages should be enough camouflage to hide the fact that I’m in possession of Zhen Shi’s notes, though I doubt anyone would ever get this far considering the book chest never leaves my tent which is always kept under strict guard.

I figured the best way to keep spies or assassins from sneaking in was to literally plant two guards out front to physically block the entrance. Concealment doesn’t make you invisible, it only makes it difficult for others to notice your presence, but even the lowliest of Martial Warriors will notice someone brushing against them. Add in the small confines of my tent which make it easy to check for Concealed Experts by waving my arms around and Kuang Biao’s presence outside, I’m as safe as I’ll ever be reading Zhen Shi’s notes in my tent.

Honestly, I wish I could burn the books and the monster who wrote them along with, but there’s still so much to learn...

Inside my tent, I find a pleasant surprise as Mama Bun, Blackjack, and surprise guest Tawny One are all huddled together for a post-bedtime grooming session. The golden-furred she-bun is rather attached to the tiny black hare, but without Pong Pong around to steal Mama Bun’s attentions, Blackjack gives Tawny One no kisses whatsoever while grooming his momma. Knowing she’s no match for her parent, Tawny One has resigned herself to simply sticking close to Blackjack’s side and watching with big, sad eyes, so I make it up to the poor heartbroken girl with plenty of hugs and kisses. Such a silly bunbun, Tawny One loves the attention and gently headbutts my chin for more kisses, but then she remembers why she’s here and panics until she spots Blackjack nestled in Mama Bun’s embrace, which then starts the cycle of heartbreak all over again.

So adorable...

While the floof cuddling is fun and therapeutic, there’s a reason I have yet to break out the books, and not just because I don’t want to. Kuang Biao has yet to give me the all clear, which means I’m still being watched through Scrying. Apparently he can sense it, which is supposed to be impossible, and I assume is a big part of why the Legate placed him in my Honour Guard, albeit with strict, second-hand instructions never to reveal Kuang Biao’s supposedly impossible skill. Still, useful as it is to know when I’m being scryed on, I think I was better off not knowing if I didn’t need to read Zhen Shi’s notes. Little did I know I’ve been living under constant scrutiny, with spies peering at my every move and interaction. They won’t even leave me alone during my morning constitutional, rendering the walls of my poop tent all but worthless, though to be fair, it’s better to have one Expert watching me poop from afar than it is to squat next to two strangers by the latrines.

Technically, I shouldn’t even have an Officer’s tent to poop in, but if the Disciplinary Corps takes issue with it, I’ll gladly suffer the consequences.

Bored of my affections, the bunbuns soon burrow into my cot to sleep, but my ever-present admirer has yet to give up, so I reach into my book chest and pull out a particularly lurid piece of literature, complete with pictures and diagrams to ensure the reader knows exactly what’s happening. Gotta say, the abundance of pornography is probably the best thing to come from my book of inventions, as the emergence of cheap paper has given rise to a burgeoning market as good-for-nothing fops and wastrels share their erotic conquests in pictorial and literary form. That said, I’m not actually reading since I’ve pretty much already memorized this novel, one the author claims is based entirely on truth but is so fanciful it’s undoubtedly fiction. I only brought it out because it gives me a plausible reason for bringing a lantern into my tent, allowing me to relax and unwind while waiting for my stalker to go away.

Ten minutes later, a brilliant idea comes to mind as I come across the author’s artwork, a depiction of his Concealed self peeping at a woman in the baths. Loosening my belt, I slip a hand under my robes in imitation of the image before me, and sure enough, Kuang Biao soon Sends the all clear. Pleased by my clever ruse, my joy is short-lived as I consider the price of failure, because if the Scryer was a pervert and stuck around to watch, I would’ve been forced to masturbate in front of a voyeur.

...That was too dangerous. Next time, think, then act.

Keeping the lewd literature on hand in case the Scrying resumes, I pick up where I last left off in Zhen Shi’s notes, scouring the neatly written words for any information I can glean, whether it be about my affliction or the writer himself. Now that I know Zhen Shi is the final boss, I’m hoping to get into his head and figure out his plans, though it’s hard to think like an eight-hundred year old monster in human flesh. What are his plans? His motivations? What might he do next? Difficult to say, but reading his notes was a Hail Mary play to start with, so why not hope for the impossible, twice?

The reading goes slowly, and I take frequent breaks to snuggle bunnies for the sake of my sanity. While time is pressing, I’m not quite feeling the crunch given how relaxed our trip has been thus far. While I was worried I’d be exposed to mortal danger multiple times a day, there have been no Defiled attacks to defend against aside from the one we stumbled into our first day here, and an utter lack of plots or assassination attempts to thwart. This is not at all what I’d expected, but a lot has changed during my absence from the front lines. Colonel Hongji stopped all patrols westward even before my injury, and has yet to reinstate them once more. With no small patrols to skirmish against and only forts like Sinuji’s to strike at, the Defiled are no longer willing to attack piecemeal and instead gather in numbers before making a concentrated strike. The frequency of attacks have declined in exchange for a drastic escalation in scale, so instead of ten to twenty thousand Defiled making raiding attacks several times a day, these roving tribal warbands meet up and work out a hierarchy before marching in force against their chosen targets, bringing anywhere from eighty to two-hundred and fifty thousand Defiled to attack every few days. Thus, while the lack of battle and bloodshed is nice and all, the longer this calm lasts, the greater their numbers will be when the time finally comes.

Or maybe they wised up and decided to go around the static Imperial defences. It’s cool, there are bigger, badder forts east of us, and the great Central Wall is mostly in place, so honestly, I would be delighted if the Defiled just left Sinuji to go after a bigger target. While comprised solely of infantry and lacking support from their well-armoured and well-equipped ‘Chosen’, a hundred-thousand Defiled are nothing to sneeze at considering Sinuji only has thirty thousand defenders. Even if the fort fended off the last attack without help from Hongji and Alsantset’s Sentinels, Sinuji is on track to be overrun within the month, because while the Defiled were defeated in every previous battle, it’s not like the Imperials slaughtered them to the last. Plenty of Defiled died, but more escaped to lick their wounds and fight another day, dragging away their dead and wounded for sustenance and entertainment while waiting for their numbers to swell once again.

Thankfully, Alsantset tore a big chunk out of their numbers a few days past, though not enough to matter in the long run. Her four-thousand probably killed ten times that in Defiled over the course of three hours, but that was only one-fifth of the attackers, or thereabouts. What’s more, the Defiled numbers will likely continue to swell even higher since they like to gather in droves when there’s a fight to be had, so it won’t be long before they come back bigger and stronger than before and eventually overrun Sinuji through sheer attrition. The worst part is this problem isn’t contained to Sinuji as the entire front line is under threat of attack, meaning the Imperials are spread thin defending a long, indefensible border. It’s not guaranteed the same horde will attack the same place again, because like I’ve said before, the Defiled are crazed and murderous, not stupid. There’s nothing wrong with seeking out a softer target, if only to sate their murderous urges while gathering more tribesmen before returning to try their hand at Sinuji once again.

Similar to the tide, the Defiled come and the Defiled go, but given the right conditions and directions, it’s possible for them to gather and form a massive tsunami of flesh and steel which would sweep through the Empire unchecked. I’m probably not the only one who’s figured this out, but there’s no doubt in my mind this is Zhen Shi’s ultimate goal, to hole up in the West while consolidating his strength and building up the infrastructure required to train and equip his ‘Chosen’, all in preparation for a massive, coordinated push into Central. In the meantime, he sends out these crazed, low-value tribesman to buy time and weaken Imperial defences, sacrificial lambs who run eagerly to the slaughter. This is why the tribesmen are so poorly equipped and lack mounts; beasts of burden are far more valuable than deranged, unruly berserkers, and while the losses are staggering, their deaths mean little in the long run.

Worst of all, the Empire is happy to turtle in and wait, even though it’s clear this delay benefits the Enemy more. Giving us time to build a giant wall is nice and all, but we’re struggling to feed and house so many Martial Warriors in one province, not to mention the fact that no one wants to talk about how the Enemy has access to mass-produced Runic armour, or how any and all newly-formed Demons retreat to the West, or a thousand other warning signs which all point to our inevitable doom and destruction. While quantity has a quality all its own, with the Western Province’s native population under his heel, Zhen Shi has access to a healthy pool of more qualified recruits than crazed Defiled tribesmen. While some would argue the Defiled would make for a better fighting force than recently turned Imperial citizens, something tells me this whole war is about Zhen Shi proving he was right. The Imperial Clan looked down on his methods and branded him a traitor because he wanted to study the process of Defilement and Demonification in hopes of raising the strength of commoners, so what better way to take vengeance than to destroy the Empire using the very knowledge he was exiled for?

Of course, this is all just conjecture on my part. I don’t actually know Zhen Shi aside from our brief meeting while he inhabited Gen and various Spectral whispers from over the years which I’ve since attributed to his influence. I’m assuming the psychopathic butcher who kept such meticulous notes regarding his systematic torture schemes might be a megalomaniac, but I could be wrong. His notes are so clinical and devoid of personality or emotion, it’s hard to get a read on the man behind the brush, utterly lacking any and all personal thoughts or opinions. There’s plenty of data, ideas, theoretical musings and observations, but he never directly mentions his results or findings. Not to say he never makes progress, but you need to read between the lines to understand the evolution of his methods and the reasoning behind the direction he takes in his subsequent experiments. Oftentimes he’ll pose a question for himself and never mark down the answer, but you can figure it out for yourself if you follow his thought process through his actions instead.

One example is a whole slew of experiments in his sixth book wherein he lobotomized his patients before torturing them because he found that removing a certain part of the brain lowered the subject’s ability to empathize with others. How he came about this knowledge was a horrific tale in its own right, but he theorized that his subjects resisted turning Defiled or Demon out of a misguided sense of morality, because if they were ever discovered, it would bring harm to their loved ones via Purge.

Say what you will about the ethics behind it, but the Purge makes for an effective deterrent, one used even as far as eight-hundred years ago without a Confessor or Shrike at the helm.

The important takeaway is that even though Zhen Shi never outright states his findings, you can infer from the lack of lobotomies performed on subsequent subjects that he concluded the procedure did not increase the chances of Defilement or Demonification. Fun reading it is not, but it’s another piece of the puzzle: Zhen Shi believes a lack of empathy is not conducive towards creating Defiled or Demons. Not what I expected, since I figured lack of empathy would be a requirement for murderous, torturing cannibals or worse, but it’s good to know.

Well... not good, but... useful? Sorta? Maybe? It’s food for thought. Terrible, disgusting food, but it’s all the food I’ve got. Figuratively speaking.

Just as I’m about to call it a night, I come across another of Zhen Shi’s hypotheses, which includes a new term I’ve never seen and don’t entirely understand.

...convulsions diminish in intensity until subject 1791 regains consciousness with startling vitality. Subject Heals wounds with masterful speed, efficiency, and familiarity, with no signs of distraction or concentration to be seen. Breaks restraints with ease, body swells in size, muscle and fat grown from nothing; Disquiet sensed, self, not subject, uneasy even though subject is commoner without Martial Training. Two Three extra limbs spout from subject’s shoulders, gout of flame burst from subj –

Since my notes are merely a copy of the originals, there’s a transcriber’s note here detailing the lack of clarity in the original copy, as if ‘written in haste’ and ‘bearing scorch marks’, as well as a distinct break in the writing. Only then does it continue.

Whilst working on Subject 1792, Subject 1791 Demonified, despite having been marked for termination and set aside to expire. Subject 1791 progressed from commoner to Peak Expert in a matter of seconds before Demonification, but after two hours of combat and consuming hundreds of kilograms in sustenance, failed to shatter the void. Could no longer continue experiment due to lacking beasts or villagers to use as sustenance, as well as risk of discovery from pursuers. At peak, strength of Demon exceeded expectations, all equipment unusable and stock lost. Gains outweigh losses, first success, many questions raised, but theory is sound and experiments must continue. Unable to retrieve Demon corpse, will require method to neutralize corrosive bodily fluids.

And thus ends entry 1792. 1793 starts up the same as every other entry, with the description and measurements of the poor unfortunate soul, and no mention of his previous experiment. It’s horrific to realize he tortured almost two thousand people before coming across his first Demon, but that’s not the important part. This is.

Subject 1791 progressed from commoner to Peak Expert in a matter of seconds before Demonification, but after two hours of combat and consuming hundreds of kilograms in sustenance to boost its strength, Demon showed no signs of shattering the void.

A single sentence, but one packed with useful information. To start with, in order for a host to become a demon, the host must be a Peak Expert, else Zhen Shi wouldn’t have bothered to specify it was the subject who progressed to Peak Expert, then only refer to it as a Demon. What this means is that Subject 1791, a thirty-three year old human commoner and mother of three, went through Core Creation, Aura Condensation, Natal Palace Formation, Domain Development, and whatever comes next to be considered a Peak Expert, all in a matter of seconds. I’ve seen firsthand how Spectres fuel the process of Demonification, so it’s safe to say that the Spectres prep the host’s body, so theoretically, if I could control the process and terminate it before going full Demon, I might be able to fix all my woes and reach Peak Expert status in a heartbeat.

The question is: do I dare even try? If I can’t control it and go full Demon, or even partial Demon like Gen did, it would be tantamount to admitting I’m Defiled and subjecting the People and all my friends to the Purge. A big risk to take on a process I know nothing about, so I put it aside as the worst idea I’ve ever had and review the other things I’ve learned. Eating flesh makes Demons stronger, which I kinda already guessed but now have corroboration, since Zhen Shi mentions it as if it were fact. Is this also why Defiled are so strong? Because they eat the flesh of other Defiled? Cannibalism = power? Please no. Last but not least, it seems like Shatter the Void is the step after Peak Expert, and possibly the last one before going full Divinity, or at the very least, strong enough to match an Ancestral Beast. Can Demons even reach Divinity levels of power? I didn’t think it was possible since Demons would hardly abide by the Treaty, and I just figured it couldn’t happen since a Divinity-level Demon could probably annihilate the Northern, Western, or Southern Wall with a wave of their hand, or whatever appendage they might have.

None of this idle musing is distracting me from the urge to immediately explore Demonification, but rather than fumble around in the dark, I take several deep breaths until the temptation is under control. Think, then act, remember? I don’t know enough to make an educated decision, but I bet the Abbot does. All I need to do is find him and ask a few innocuous questions like, ‘What do you know about Demonification?’, only with more subtlety...

A low, rumbling horn sounds out in the distance and I nearly jump to my feet, my low-ceiling tent saved only by the lack of strength in my legs to accomplish such a feat. The haunting note is a familiar one, a signal from the Defiled to sound the engagement. A challenge of sorts, army to army, and while the call came from far off in the distance, it won’t take the Defiled long to arrive.

Putting my book away, I fix my robes, bring my sleeping floofs out of the tent, and hand them off to an already waiting Song so she can bring them away to safety. Arriving in short order, Dastan and his doomed comrades appear before me, their eyes grim and spirits burning as they silently pledge to defend me with their lives, but I would much rather they didn’t. “Survive,” I command them, and that is all I trust myself to say, because shit just got real and I find myself too terrified to continue.

I can barely stand without help, but I’m expected to stand on the outer wall where the fighting is the bloodiest, with around twenty soldiers in total I can trust to watch my back.

Cool, cool, cool.

Yanno, now that I think about it, maybe Demonification isn’t so bad a choice after all. Beats dying, because like Akanai said, where there’s life, there’s hope.

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