Savage Divinity

From the day he first arrived in Sinuji, Mitsue Hideo never once left his room, not even to wander the bustling barrack halls much less step out into the courtyard. Father had long since disappeared, no doubt resting in a spacious Officer’s tent with all the luxuries which came with it, while Hideo languished forgotten in the cramped confines of his windowless billet with no one but his jailers to keep him company. Though he yearned to bask beneath the midday sun or feel the brisk winter air brush across his skin, his jailers would hear none of it and left him to suffer his solitude in silence. If they were Warriors from his family, he might have tried winning them over with stories of their shared past, but the four Peak Experts who’d accompanied Hideo and his father on the journey to Sinuji disappeared alongside Father, only to be replaced by many unfamiliar faces.

This meant Father had gone outside the family for help, a bad sign considering the grievous nature of Hideo’s crimes, the penalty of which would be severe and far-reaching. Even Mentor Juichi would be pulled down from his lofty heights if the Empire were to discover his Disciple had turned Defiled, and with no less than two Domain Capable Experts keeping him company at any given time, Hideo could tell the jailers were growing suspicious. Father had undoubtedly done his best to hide their identities, but as one of the most prominent youths of Central, a leading member of the Hwarang, and the successor to a Living Legend, it would be strange if his jailers didn’t recognize him at first glance. Though his jailers were formidable warriors and lions among men, Hideo still gave himself even odds if he should try to fight his way out, but he was certain any attempt would be tantamount to suicide since there was probably a Peak Expert watching him from the shadows.

One no doubt tasked to kill Hideo and his jailers if he should reveal his tainted condition, for how else was Father supposed to keep the family from being implicated in Hideo’s crimes?

Days went by and he passed the long hours in quiet meditation while trying to forget the crimes of his past, but every time he laid his head down and closed his eyes to rest, Eri-Hime would be there waiting for him, her smile bright and eyes dull while the blood pooled beneath her severed neck. She was exactly as he’d left her, sitting atop his tea table while he devoured her carcass, stripping flesh from bone with his bare hands and gnashing teeth. The abominable memory appalled him and filled him with self-loathing, but at the same time, he couldn’t get the savoury, aromatic taste out of his mind and yearned to dine on human flesh again, a chain of thought which usually ended with him emptying the contents of his belly into the chamber pot. Oh how he prayed and begged the Mother for aid and absolution, for the strength to resist the Father’s whispered lies and for Her guidance to bring him back into the light, but She didn’t deign to answer.

But Eri-Hime did.

Haunted by the memory of her ghastly grimace, he couldn’t quite remember when she started speaking to him again. She’d appeared before him back home, a delusion to help maintain what little sanity he had left, but now that the veil had been parted and the truth set free, she made no effort to dance around the subject of her death. “Big Brother Hideo,” her disembodied head would croon, using the same lyrical lilt she had in life whenever she wanted something from him. “Are you really going to sit here and let all the soldiers gush about how Dastan Zhandos killed a Demon? You should go out to the battlefield and remind everyone who the real Number One Talent really is: Mitsue Hideo, successor to the Obsidian Shadow and master of the Mountain Collapsing Stomp, a peerless young Talent the likes of which the Empire has never seen.”

“Big Brother Hideo, you heard it too right? Falling Rain was injured while defending the battlements, but not by the Defiled. The stupid savage hurt himself pulling someone to safety. Such a disgraceful Imperial Consort, if Eri-Hime were married to him, she would kill herself in shame.”

“Big Brother Hideo, aren’t you bored of sitting around? Eri-Hime is bored. You should talk to Uncle Hiroshi and tell him you’re all better now. He loves you so much and he’ll believe you if you demonstrate Purity, and Eri-Hime is positive Big Brother Hideo can do it.”

“Big Brother Hideo, if you sit around like a statue, people will think there’s something wrong with you. Why don’t you ask for brush and parchment to practice calligraphy with? Eri-Hime loves watching you work.”

“Big Brother Hideo, that sneaky savage is meeting with Healers now, probably trying to drum up support for his cause. You should warn Uncle Hiroshi, or maybe slip word to Uncle Watanabe. If Falling Rain dies, then the Mitsue family can only benefit.”

No matter how she pestered him, Hideo never responded, for to do so would be to acknowledge her existence, and he still couldn’t face her. Not yet, not after the horrors he’d committed, and perhaps not ever again, but she was as persistent in death as she was in life, if not more. “Seek calm and walk the razor’s edge,” she’d tell him, time and time again, repeating the mantra until the words were forever etched into memory. “You still have a part to play.”

Though imprisoned within his room, it was still a normal barracks quarters where the walls were not built with security or privacy in mind, so it didn’t take much effort to overhear snippets of conversation going on outside. As far as he could tell, the Defiled had attacked the fort on the day after he arrived, and again five days later to no effect. The second attack had been little more than an afterthought, with the Defiled horde measuring no more than sixty-thousand strong and only outnumbering the Imperial forces by a pitiful two-to-one ratio. A suicidal temper tantrum at best, the attack was doomed before it began, and again, the soldiers spoke quietly of how Dastan Zhandos and his traitorous comrades had emerged unscathed, fighting for five hours alone and unaided until the Defiled surge dwindled to a mere trickle and they were finally called to stand down. Hideo cared little for the exploits of slaves, for no matter how strong he might become, Dastan would forever remain at the bottom rung of society, a warrior doomed to fight until he could fight no more to make up for his crimes against the Empire.

Or at least, he didn’t care until he overheard some base-born soldiers joking about how Mitsue Hideo had been bested by a slave.

Fools one and all, Hideo only lost because they fought their match upon a floating platform instead of solid ground. Had he not been afraid of ruining the platform and possibly sinking the stage and ruining the First Imperial Grand Conference, Hideo would have crushed Dastan into a pulp with a single Mountain Collapsing Stomp, defeating the fool slave as easily as turning his hand. Not that those idiot soldiers understood, too weak to properly understand the benefits a Domain brings, for back then, Dastan Zhandos had yet to Develop his while Hideo had been well on the way towards mastering its use. Even now, he was confident he could beat Dastan with ease, so in a fit of rage, he tried to storm out his room to first teach those idle soldiers a lesson before rendering that traitorous slave into a pulp.

And for his efforts to escape and reclaim his former glory, Hideo was granted a savage beating at the hands of his jailers. He remembered little of the fight, but he remembered one moment with startling clarity, at the tail end of their bout. Gazing up at his assailants, he found it strange that he would see fear in their eyes while he laid flat on his back, injured and defeated, but he would never forget how they looked at him, as if seeing a monster for the very first time.

Then the world went dark and Hideo passed out, but when he woke again, the jailers were gone and Father sat at his side, studying him with an unreadable expression. When Hideo moved to sit up, he found he’d been strapped to the cot with heavy steel chains, one for each limb and two more encircling his chest and hips. Instead of asking to be released, he simply sank back down into his cot and stared back at his father, searching the familiar face for any sign of love, affection, or even concern to no avail. Seconds turned into minutes as father and son traded stares in silence, and in the end, it was Father who broke first. “Why?”

The single word contained more unspoken pain and grief than Hideo ever imagined was possible, and it took him a moment to recover and understand what Father was referring to. “I overhead the soldiers outside mocking me, so I wanted to go out and show them what a true Hero of the Empire looks like.” Flat and without passion, Hideo’s lie wasn’t even convincing to him, and even less so to Father, but it was the only answer he had to give. Why had he really tried to escape? The battle was over, the soldiers back in the barracks, so if Hideo had stepped outside to fight, his opponents wouldn’t have been Defiled tribesman, but Imperial soldiers. If he’d succeeded in overpowering his jailers and started a brawl or if their scuffle had been overheard by the soldiers outside, there was a good chance they would have all been charged with a multitude of crimes, most of which could see him hanged or otherwise executed.

So what Father was really asking was if Hideo wanted to die, and in truth, he wasn’t entirely sure of the answer.

Without another word, Father strode out the room only to be replaced by four new jailers who cautiously unchained Hideo from his cot, but all he could focus on was how the door slammed shut without a sound. Once freed, he simply sat up, looked directly at each of the jailers, and asked, “Has this room been encased in a Sound Barrier this entire time?”

Obviously reluctant to speak, the four unfamiliar faces traded glances before something finally convinced one of them to respond. “Yes, little lord. We are not responsible for maintaining the Sound Barrier, but to this one’s knowledge, it has been in place since you arrived.”

While the other jailers cautioned the speaker to silence, Hideo sat and pondered the implications. A perpetual Sound Barrier, one which had yet to go down since Hideo’s arrival in Sinuji. If that was true, then where were all the voices coming from?

Slumping in place, he cradled his head and stared at his feet, but try as he might, he couldn’t block the deluge of whispers from reaching his ears, the most prominent of which belonged to Eri-Hime. Paying no heed to anything else, he devoted all his efforts to ignoring the voices to little or no success, but he continued to try regardless. Without the sun or moon, he marked the passing of time using meals eaten, three every day followed by a long, restless night’s sleep as he struggled to drown out the chatter, fighting to shut them out and become the master of his emotions once more, to cast aside his hatred and revulsion to find solace in Balance. No matter what he did or how hard he struggled, it forever remained just out of reach, taunting him with its soothing calm while the raging storm buffeted him from all sides, drowning him in a torrent of truths mixed in lies, the Father’s foul machinations seeking to turn Hideo wholly to his cause. All the while, Eri-Hime continued to natter away, a constant reminder of his horrific crime of murdering the sweet fairy who loved him, and he just knew that her terrified screams would stay with him until the day he died.

A day he both yearned for and dreaded, for he knew it was not the Mother’s warm embrace which awaited him, but the Father’s Maw.

The more he tried to forget what happened, the clearer his memories became, and before he knew it, he was trapped in his mind and reliving the abominable experience hour after arduous hour. He saw her childish glee as he rushed over to greet her and watched it melt away into panicked terror as he rent flesh from bone with hand and tooth, then he watched it again and again and again. Each time he prayed for a different result, begged his past self not to do it, pleaded with Eri-Hime to run away, but nothing he did could ever change what he’d done, nor could he escape the sins of his past.

Horrified as he was, he soon grew detached and disinterested after countless viewings, for he accepted the truth laid out before him. He, Mitsue Hideo, was a monster, one who did not deserve forgiveness and needed to pay for his crimes, crimes he now understood were beyond redemption. Worst of all, he began to benefit from watching his heinous crime, picking up details he’d forgotten in a haze of bloodlust and inhumanity. Most notable was how he’d thrown up a Sound Barrier as his arms wrapped around Eri-Hime’s slim body, a conscious effort to keep her screams from being heard and a sure sign of premeditation if he’d ever seen one, but that wasn’t the most important part. Hideo didn’t know how to put up a Sound Barrier, at least not consciously, and because of this, Father believed Eri had died quickly and without pain, when nothing could be farther from the truth.

If Father had known how she suffered, he would’ve killed Hideo the moment he discovered them.

Overwhelmed by guilt, Hideo devoted his efforts towards mastering the ability to put up a Sound Barrier, and several meals later when he finally succeeded, he turned to the disembodied Eri-Hime and blurted out, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to hurt you, but I wasn’t myself, I couldn’t stop myself... You were so beautiful, so enchanting, so delectable... I’m sorry, Eri-Hime, I’m so, so, sorry...”

No matter how he tried to explain away his actions or how heartfelt the apology, he still couldn’t find the solace he so desperately needed. When his throat grew hoarse and body fatigued, he laid back down in his cot while Eri-Hime laid down beside him, her smile sweet as ever as she nuzzled him close. So real he could almost feel her breath on his skin and nonexistent arms around his shoulders, he trembled as she whispered, “It’s okay Big Brother Hideo, everything will be okay. Even if Uncle Hiroshi hates you now, Eri-Hime will love you forever and always. We’re together now, united as man and wife.”

He wished the first part of her statement was true, but there was no proof things would ever be okay again, and as much as he wished to deny the latter half of her statement, the truth would not change just because he desired it. They became one in body when he devoured her flesh, and now it seemed like they would be of one mind as well.

“Poor, sweet hubby. You already let Eri-Hime into your body, now let her into your mind. Stop resisting, and she will give you the strength and fame you so desire. Let her take away your pain and guide you along the Martial Path, for she has become one with the Heavens, and thus can lead you to greatness.”

On some base level, he knew what he was doing was wrong, knew that he didn’t deserve her forgiveness, knew that it wasn’t even Eri-Hime herself offering it, but he also desperately longed for an end to the guilt and suffering. Half-sobbing and half-sighing, he nodded his head and forced the words past the lump in his throat. “Yes. Help me. Please, Mother in Heaven, help me.”

For a moment, he worried he saw a malevolent gleam in Eri-Hime’s eyes, a mixture of pleasure and dissatisfaction that existed for only a fraction of a moment, and then it was gone, replaced by his sweet Eri-Hime’s smile, as pure and innocent as ever. “Come,” she said, as she pulled him into the depths of his consciousness to traverse through the void. A second stretched into eternity as time and space became meaningless concepts, but then they arrived at the familiar landscape of his Natal Palace, the lofty peaks of Wutai Mountain, a famous landmark where many a Martial Warrior came to visit. Its highest point stood just over three-thousand metres tall, not the highest mountain by any means, but this was not always so. According to legends, Wutai Mountain had once stood more than twice it’s current height, but a visiting Divinity felt that the towering peaks obscured his view of the beautiful surroundings, so he soared high into the Heavens, brought his foot crashing down upon the mountain, and flattened it to it’s current height with but a single stomp.

Whether true or not, Hideo had visited the flat, spacious peak almost daily during his training, for his familial home lay at the base of the mountain. Not only that, but it was here where Mentor Juichi found Insight and completed his Mountain Collapsing Stomp and here where Du Min Gyu Awakened to the Blessing of Divine Wind. Wutai Mountain was featured in countless success stories, including Hideo’s own, for while others chose to use a plain and straightforward framework for their Natal Palace, he memorized the various paths and trails up, down, and around the mountain before modelling his Natal Palace after it, a monumental undertaking which set him back by an entire year, but yielded significant returns in strength, for few could claim to have a Natal Palace as large and complex as an entire mountain.

One fact which lent credence to the legend was how the peak was not only flat as a plain, but also almost perfectly circular and still wide enough to house hundreds of visitors every day. At the centre of the peak was a small stone dais, often used by visiting Martial Warriors while they gave lectures or pointers to the masses, either in a bid to raise their fame or perhaps garner goodwill. Hideo had recreated it in his Natal Palace and claimed it as his throne, so he took a seat and surveyed his inner realm with a careful eye, tracing every familiar shadow, crack, and crevice to ease his troubled mind.

How long since he last visited? Weeks? Months? It felt so good to be back...

When he came to his senses, he found Eri-Hime nestled in his lap, whole and healthy as she had been in life. Beaming from ear to ear, she rested her dainty head on his shoulder and snuggled into his embrace with a soft sigh, and Hideo’s guilt and troubles melted away at the sight of her contented expression. The past didn’t matter anymore, for they were together now, just like she’d always wanted.

His mind unburdened and guilt resolved, Hideo shut away his doubts and resumed his journey along the Martial Path, only this time he had Eri-Hime to guide him along. Together, they uncovered hidden gems he’d overlooked on his way to the Peak and fixed the flaws in his fundamental skills, for Heaven’s secrets were no barrier to sweet Eri-Hime’s inquisitive mind. A simple, innocuous question could lead Hideo down a path of Insight and observation, and with her help, he unravelled the mysteries which seemed so far out of reach only a year before, yet now were as simple as reaching out his hand to take them.

The first thing he learned was how to Listen, to slip his Domain past the Sound Barrier erected by his jailers and use it like a cup pressed against a wall to eavesdrop on the soldiers around him. Eri-Hime had a knack for uncovering information, but Hideo had always liked to see and hear things for himself. The Defiled attacks were lessening in both strength and frequency, and Falling Rain’s traitors all still breathed, though from what he could gather, the Healers were unanimously recommending the unit be taken off active duty and given time to rest and recuperate, lest these elite slave soldiers die needlessly before their time. Uncle Watanabe would not allow it of course, and luckily, Colonel Hongji had indefinitely delayed his return to Sinuji and all but abandoned Falling Rain to his fate.

No, Falling Rain asked Hongji to stay away? Nonsense. Only a fool would keep his allies away in this desperate time of need.

The next skill Hideo learned was Scrying, though Father and everyone else called it Watching instead. Regardless of what he called it, this was far more complicated than Listening, for it involved not only stretching his Domain out into the world, but actually severing a portion away to leave there and reflect what was happening outside. Time and meditation would eventually bring his Domain back to full strength, but a single use of Scrying would degrade over time, and if used too often, could leave him diminished and vulnerable. Worse, he couldn’t Listen and Scry at the same time, for it required more skill than he possessed, but even then, he used these two skills as often as he dared to spy on Falling Rain. He watched the scrawny runt have tea with Nian Zu, chat amicably with Taiyi ZhuShen, greet the rank and file with a fawning grin, smirk hatefully while being bathed by the beautiful Zheng Luo, and worst of all, pleasuring himself whenever the mood struck him at all hours of the day.

Hideo quickly learned to avoid Scrying Rain in his tent and turned his attention to others in the runt’s camp. It soon became apparent that Zheng Luo wasn’t favoured by Rain, for not only did she bathe him while fully clothed and standing at arms length, they also slept separately and spoke sparingly at best. A beautiful flower planted in dogshit aptly described their relationship, for he cared more about his lurid novels and the honey-skinned, half-hare mongrel by his side instead of the divine beauty, Zheng Luo. Then again, it quickly became apparent why this was so, for the half-hare possessed the same delightful charm as Eri-Hime, a vibrant, joyful spirit who took great delight in life and never let a moment pass without appreciation.

Mei Lin, he learned her name was, a captivating young lady who charmed Hideo from start to finish. How... unfair! What right did Falling Rain have to monopolize them both?

Then Hideo stumbled across the copper-skinned cat-girl during her morning spars, whom he noticed only because he saw Dastan Zhandos, Tam Taewoong, and a half-dozen other notable Officers greeting her cordially as she arrived and patiently queuing for their chance to face her. Cold and aloof, this Li Song dispatched each and every one of her challengers with graceful ease, her blade reminiscent of a calligrapher’s brush dancing across the canvass. Yet another top-notch beauty always at Falling Rain’s side, Sinuji was rife with rumours which claimed she was Akanai’s daughter and therefore Falling Rain’s betrothed, which made little sense since Hideo had heard the Lieutenant General’s daughter was supposedly a fetching, red-haired beauty with a blazing temper to match, not a frigid brunette with consummate saber skills and an uncrackable stony facade.

Strength. Hideo needed more strength, then he would stride into Falling Rain’s camp and force the scrawny savage to watch while he defiled his women. He would conquer them and make them his, become one with each of them as he had with Eri-Hime and bring them with him on his journey towards the Peak of the Martial Path.

How many days had passed since he arrived in Sinuji, he could not say, but when the time came, he demanded his jailers send for his father. Arriving with more white hairs and wrinkles than Hideo remembered him having, his father looked down at him with an impassive glare, a stern mask meant to hide the fear and hope lurking deep within his heart. “What do you want?” Father asked, his tone wary and posture stiff.

“I want us to be Father and Son once more.” Coming to his feet, Hideo stood tall and channelled the Energy of the Heavens into his body, churning the Chi within his Core as fast as it would move. Demonstrating Purity, the Empire called it, but it was utter nonsense, Hideo saw this now, yet Father, no, Mitsue Hiroshi did not.

The man who Hideo once called father visibly sagged with relief before his arms shot out to embrace him. “Good,” Hiroshi said, clutching Hideo close and stroking his hair. “Good. After so many weeks, so many months, my son has returned, and all is well.”

On Eri-Hime’s suggestion, Hideo squeezed out a tear before burying his face in Hiroshi’s chest. “Yes father,” he lied, “All is well.”

And just in time too, for it would not be long before the Imperial scouts discovered the massive Defiled Army headed their way. Even without this act, Hideo would soon be freed from this prison, but that would not do, for Falling Rain and Dastan Zhandos were marked to die by his hands.

Chapter Meme