Savage Divinity

Born and raised in Central’s Nan Ping, Yo Shi-Woo was undoubtedly biased towards his home province, but even he had to admit the Northerners knew how to make an entrance.

Riding at the head of the ten-thousand soldier convoy was the highest ranking officer in the Northern Imperial Army, Situ Nian Zu. A hundred-years-old and a hero amongst heroes, the grizzled veteran made for an impressive sight in his ebony armour, with its gold trim and his flowing cloak accentuating his heroic figure. Seated atop his obsidian horse, the Living Legend gazed out at the crowd from beneath his open-faced helm, so stern and austere it quieted their cheers, for this was a man who fought not for honour and glory, but for duty itself.

Trailing almost twenty meters behind Nian Zu were the soldiers of the North themselves. There were no blaring horns or beating drums, no marching chants or proclaiming heralds as a Colonel General from Central might employ, only a single man sitting atop his behemoth horse, followed by the stomping cadence of thousands of boots marching in lockstep through the gates. Much like their commander, these warriors were clad in dark armour and darker cloaks, all of which lent an air of menace and foreboding to these formidable foreign soldiers. The colours were not chosen for this reason, but because the burnished steel armour so favoured by the warriors of Central would be all but impossible to pick out amidst the blinding snow so commonly seen in the North, and cloaks were necessary to keep the soldiers warm and alive, but this didn’t take away from the impressive display before them.

Practicality over appearance, a chilling fact which rang true in every facet of these Northerner’s demeanour.

Not a single soldier was out of place amidst their ranks, and such flawless coordination came about from either practice or experience. In this case, it was clearly the latter, as these men and women were veterans one and all, warriors who cut their teeth defending the Northern Wall from Defiled invasions, and now they were here to defend Central with brutal efficiency. From Shi-Woo’s place atop the platform, built to welcome these Northern heroes, he saw that the gathered crowd was both intimidated and relieved. Intimidated because Nian Zu was a formidable man of almost peerless power, a career soldier and Peak Expert who struck a blow against an Enemy Divinity and lived to tell the tale. Relieved because if they found this man and his elite veterans intimidating, then think how the Defiled must feel when facing them on the field of battle.

A display of bold determination, plain and simple, and Shi-Woo quietly applauded Nian Zu’s efforts. It was easy to see why so many decorated officers called him the North’s Shuai Jiao, for they were two men cut from the same cloth. Honourable and ethical, some would say, stubborn and intractable to others, but however one framed it, they were both men of principle. Unlike Shuai Jiao, however, Nian Zu was finally dipping his toe into politics, having thrown the full weight of his support behind the Bekhai, and today’s entrance had been tailor-made to show it.

Still, it was easy to see that the Colonel General was a complete novice at politics, but then again, everyone who was anyone had known this for years. Riding in the centre of his soldiers were Nian Zu’s Famed Fifty, his honour guard of Peak Experts of humble descent, all arranged to escort Nian Zu’s guests to the banquet. Next to the Colonel General’s bold entrance, the overabundance of guards made his guests look timid in comparison, but politically, this was merely a minor blunder compared to their actual identities. Shi-Woo knew most of these young warriors by name and reputation, but this would be his first time meeting any of them in person, so he took the time to study them as they rode up to greet him, or rather, to greet his older brother, Yo Jeong-Hun, Central’s Marshal and host of Sinuji’s celebratory banquet.

Closest behind Nian Zu and riding in the centre of his peers was Situ Jia Zian, a fellow clansman and outcast with much in common with the Colonel General himself. A fitting parallel, to have these two black sheep riding so close together, and with the younger Situ Clansman poised as the leader of his peers to boot, but name, circumstances, and positioning aside, the two men were nothing alike. As the Mother’s Chosen Warriors, all Martial Warriors were handsome or beautiful to some degree, but where Nian Zu was a rugged, masculine warrior with broad shoulders and a barrel chest, Jia Zian was a slim and dainty pretty boy who fit right in with those worthless fops so commonly found throughout Central’s brothels and gambling dens. To make matters worse, where Nian Zu’s colours were black and gold, Jia Zian was dressed in teal, silver, and white. From the flowing mane on his tasselled helm to the shiny boots adorning his feet, and even his pure white stallion armoured in burnished steel barding, young Zian could not have done more to highlight the differences between himself and the Living Legend.

A pompous decision which did him no favours, for the former young patriarch of the Situ Clan had long since been painted as a debauched popinjay who deserved to be displaced as heir to the Clan. Likely all untrue, but the common people were a foolish bunch, more willing to believe bar-room stories than evidence laid out before their eyes...

It physically pained Shi-Woo to see this missed opportunity in action, for it would have taken almost no effort at all to paint young Zian in Nian Zu’s colours and hold him up as a prospective successor, but now the chance was lost, as first impressions were hard to change. Half the Citadel’s population had turned out to receive the Northern Delegation, lined up on the streets and rooftops between here and Nian Zu’s quarters in the heart of the Citadel, and every one of them would bear witness to the glaring disparity between Situ Nian Zu, a man who fought tooth and nail to reach his current staggering heights, and Situ Jia Zian, who was the very picture of an entitled dandy literally and figuratively riding on the Colonel General’s coat-tails.

Nothing could be further from the truth, of course, for young Zian was a fearsome duellist and able commander in his own right, but the huddled masses cared not for facts or information and made snap judgments based on appearance alone. Were this not the case, Nian Zu would have never become the man he was today, for his manly appearance alone was enough to stamp out the early ‘rumours’ of his ‘deviant sexual preferences’. In the eyes of the public, Nian Zu was far too heroic and masculine to prefer the company of men, as if that somehow made a difference, causing any and all attempts to spread the truth and ruin his reputation to fall hopelessly flat.

Amusingly enough, despite young Zian’s sordid history of lecherous delights, there were rumours floating about that Falling Rain conquered him not only on the sparring stage, but in the bedroom as well, a tale spread by tittering young women and jealous young men alike. Such was life and politics, where appearances mattered more than facts.

Laughable as all this might be, Zian’s image alone was enough for Shi-Woo to write him off as a lost cause, especially with the gallant and heroic looking Han BoShui riding beside him, sporting his signature tiger pauldrons in reference to his old reputation as the Paper Tiger of the Han Clan. Where Zian had fallen from his pedestal to follow in Nian Zu’s footsteps as an outcast, BoShui persevered and overcame his failings to become the Young Patriarch in truth, and now he had the full support of his Clan behind him. Unfortunately, this meant less now than it would have a year ago, because the Society of Heaven and Earth was no longer the united powerhouse it once was. A large part of this was due to BoShui himself, because by supporting him, the Han Clan was also indirectly supporting the Bekhai, which led to fracturing amongst the unified forces of the Society. Many still remembered the shameful loss of face dealt to them by the Bekhai and Falling Rain in particular, which made many of the Han Clan’s allies shift their allegiance to the Situ Clan instead, the only remaining powerhouse amongst the Society who still stood against the Bekhai.

Internal politics aside, Han BoShui was the living embodiment of nobility itself, a stately young man whose mere presence exuded power and authority. A shame that he spent so much of his time extolling Falling Rain’s virtues, much like those lackeys found so commonly hanging around disreputable fops. Young BoShui truly admired Falling Rain and wanted to share his admiration with the masses, but it would have been better if he’d kept silent and let his actions speak for him instead. Had he done so, then the people of the Empire would see him stand by Falling Rain and think, “Perhaps there’s more to the Bekhai savage than we thought.” Instead, they heard him sing his ridiculous praises and wondered, “What hold does the Bekhai savage have over poor, heroic BoShui?”

The next guest on Nian Zu’s list was almost entirely unknown, but between his half-wolf heritage and roosequin mount, any fool could see that the young man was of Bekhai origins. Huushal was the boy’s name, accompanied by his mother and Mentor Ghurda, whose recent exploits in Sinuji had garnered her some small amount of fame. More importantly, young Huushal’s heritage marked him as Major General Baatar’s half-brother by blood, unless the improbable had taken place and the Saint’s Tribulations Mountains housed not one, but two Ancestral Wolves. As such, the boy’s presence showed Nian Zu’s dedication to his Bekhai allies, bringing yet another of their young warriors with him to this most exclusive of banquets, one with close ties to his second-in-command. More importantly, young Huushal was an imposing man in his own right, almost shoulder to shoulder with the gargantuan BoShui despite riding a compact roosequin instead of a behemoth warhorse. With his pale, porcelain skin, bright, silver hair, and yellow, wolfish eyes, young Huushal made for an exotic sight, which had many a young maiden fluttering their lashes at the handsome, hulking young warrior, and a stark contrast to the slight and slim Falling Rain.

Thus far, one could argue that these young men were not Nian Zu’s guests at all, and that they were only invited out of respect for their elders, namely disgraced Lieutenant General Situ Jia Yang, Major General Han BoHai, and Baatar, all of whom worked closely with the Colonel General. Were it not for the remaining four guests, this argument might hold merit, but it was clear Nian Zu had purposely picked a group of promising young heroes to accompany him to the banquet, all of whom were affiliated with the Bekhai in some way, shape or form.

Such as Nian Zu’s fourth guest, Lin Ji Yeon, formerly Situ Ji Yeon, who at one point had been betrothed to current Situ Clan heir, Gulong. That all changed when Ji Yeon’s brother left her to die on the front lines, supposedly under Gulong’s orders no less, and their plot would have succeeded if not for Falling Rain’s intervention. A masterful counterstroke bringing her along, for not only was her adoptive father and maternal uncle, Lin Xiang Gu, a rich and powerful merchant with deep pockets and widespread influence worth courting for allegiance, the girl served as a living reminder of what the Situ Clan’s allies should expect from the overbearing Rang Min, to be used and cast aside once a better offer came along. Not only this, but Lin Ji Yeon’s presence was a weapon in and of itself, because even though her story would amount to nothing if brought before a Justicar, it would see Gulong and Rang Min crucified in the court of opinion and shamed before all their peers, allies, and the public in general, for there were few things more shameful than leaving one’s woman to die.

Yet thus far, Ji Yeon had kept her silence, which meant Rang Min would have to tread lightly, and perhaps even keep young Gulong away from the banquet entirely. A brilliant move on Nian Zu’s part, no doubt suggested to him by the devious Northern Marshal, Shing Yuzhen.

Which made Nian Zu’s last two guests all the more surprising. Whereas the other eight guests consisted of promising young warriors accompanied by prominent and powerful individuals, the last two were... unexceptional, to put it generously. Keeping to the theme of young heroes associated with the Bekhai, Nian Zu invited Tong Da Fung along to the banquet, to be accompanied by his manservant, Fu Zhu Li. Truly a disgrace, bringing a manservant into this banquet, for there were wealthy nobles and decorated Major Generals who failed to make the guest list, but nobles were an eccentric bunch, and Tong Da Fung was no exception. Worse, there was no merit in bringing the boy with them, unless it was a request from his Mentor and leader of the Bekhai, Akanai. Fung’s military record was worse than non-existent, as it started and ended with a minor role in the battle of Sanshu, where he was promptly defeated by the traitor Dastan and subsequently removed from battle before even entering the city. Considering the circumstances, Fung’s disgraceful defeat could easily be overlooked if not for his contemptible behaviour during the First Imperial Grand Banquet, where not only did he spend all his time flirting with every eligible young lady in sight, but he also actively avoided sparring with other young warriors of renown. Instead, he ‘randomly’ selected one challenge to answer every day, the bare minimum required not to be considered a coward, and then promptly defeated his opponents without mercy.

A foolish, brazen child of luxury, this Tong Da Fung. How could he not see that most of those challenges had been arranged by the fathers of the same young ladies he courted? Undisputed heirs to Magisterial offices were few and far between, so all he needed to do was accept the challenge and fight. Regardless of whether he won or lost, Fung would have undoubtedly been invited back to the family manor to ‘smooth things over’, but the boy couldn’t even do that much. To make matters worse, he fought the famed Ryo Geom-Chi to a draw in an impromptu restaurant duel on the same day he arrived in Nan Ping, which proved he was skilled enough to challenge the current members of the Hwarang. So why then, did he behave in such a dishonourable manner?

Truly a foolish, hedonistic young master, this one, though Shi-Woo could hardly point fingers, for his sons had been just as bad until this past year...

All in all, Nian Zu’s guests presented something of a quandary, but Shi-Woo could do nothing before speaking with Falling Rain, so he greeted Nian Zu and his guests cordially. Marshal Yuzhen arrived soon after, but she was merely a side dish, for everyone gathered was waiting for the true star of today’s show, who soon arrived in spectacular fashion. Three striking carriages of golden wood lead the way, surrounded by hundreds of marching Death Corps guards and noble Imperial cavalry, with savage Khishig outriders following soon after. It was both familiar and exotic, inspiring and intimidating, and when those luxurious carriages came to a halt, Falling Rain scrambled out with almost undue haste to lead his family up the steps, where they joined Marshal Yuzhen and Colonel General Nian Zu.

Only for Falling Rain to immediately break custom by greeting Shi-Woo with a bright smile. “Long time no see, Uncle Yo!”

Despite the gross breach of protocol taking place before his eyes, Shi-Woo couldn’t refrain from swelling with pride as he greeted young Falling Rain intimately in return. “Too long, too long,” he intoned as he took the boy by the shoulders and turned him this way and that to inspect, all the while ignoring the displeased mutters emitting from the prissy nobles behind him. “Forgive your uncle for not visiting more often, but I knew the rumours of your poor health were grossly exaggerated.”

They hadn’t been, but the past was the past and easily rewritten, for the Falling Rain standing before him now was as hale and healthy as could be. In dire need of fattening perhaps, but alert and able-bodied, and that was what mattered for now, not only to the peasants and soldiers watching from the crowd, but also the fence-sitting nobles gathered on stage behind him.

“Think nothing of it, Uncle Yo, you’re a busy man with many responsibilities,” Falling Rain replied, playing the game well as he ignored everyone else and dragged Shi-Woo over to meet the other Bekhai. “Come, let me introduce you to my family. Believe it or not, this lovely young lady here is not my sister, but rather my mother, Sarnai...”

By all rights, Shi-Woo should have insisted they greet his brother first, as Jeong-Hun was Central’s Marshal while Shi-Woo himself was merely a business associate, but Big Brother seemed mildly amused by the boy’s antics while many of the nobles behind him looked positively green with envy and regret. Shi-Woo could read their thoughts from their expressions, for they’d all heard tales of the Yo Family’s recent windfalls, most of which could be attributed to their close association with Falling Rain.

Not to say it’d been nothing but calm waters and gentle winds, but the benefits far outweighed the costs, which was all that mattered to most greedy merchants, Shi-Woo himself included. Let the others stew in the jealousy a little while longer, for they too could see the Bekhai carriages sitting in the plaza below, neatly surrounded by the iconic Death Corps Guards which made the scene look that much more Imperial. Already, Shi-Woo could hear their internal abacuses click-clacking away as the gathered merchants calculated the cost of each exquisite vehicle and the staggering profits they stood to earn if they could broker a deal with the Bekhai to sell them. Zhengui rosewood was forbidden to any but the Supreme Families, but this golden wood was a close approximation, and the affluent families of Central loved nothing more than to emulate their Imperial masters. Were Falling Rain to bring just one of these carriages to auction, it would no doubt sell at outrageous price as the nobles of Central beggared themselves in a bidding war over the right to own this first ‘Imperial’ carriage.

Ah, the boy was just full of pleasant surprises today, and Shi-Woo once again thanked his lucky star for guiding him to where he stood today.

Since Falling Rain arrived with the two most influential individuals of the Northern province, Big Brother Jeong-Hun had arranged for a suitable welcoming party to come greet them. Not only was he here himself, as a sign of respect to his Northern counterpart, he also brought representatives from all his closest allies along with him, not to mention the aforementioned fence-sitters who had yet to choose a side. A good thing too, because while officially, they were all here to receive Colonel General Nian Zu and Northern Marshal Yuzhen, in truth, they were all here to gain the measure of Falling Rain and the Bekhai, and the boy had not disappointed.

Truth be told, even Shi-Woo himself could hardly believe this was the same Falling Rain he’d met in Nan Ping just over a year ago. Dressed as he was in his fine silken shirt and dark-leather armour, one could easily mistake him for a novice soldier of middling wealth who had yet to see action, rather than the hard-bitten veteran he’d since grown into. With his cheery, bright-eyed smile and goofy menagerie of pets, it was hard to believe that he was the preeminent talent of his generation, a man who fought and beat back a million-strong army of Defiled in utter defiance of the odds. There he stood before the welcoming crowd, the wealthy elites of Central, and a multitude of spies to demonstrate his good health, vast wealth, and touching sincerity as he introduced Shi-Woo to his beloved family.

The boy gave the Yo family much face in doing so, and his mother gave face to the rest of the gathered individuals by loudly scolding him for neglecting them. Between her fierce disapproval and his sheepish embarrassment, the exchange seemed so natural and believable it must have been rehearsed a thousand times. A masterful maneuver, and Big Brother went along with it, laughing off Rain’s subsequent apology and attributing it to the ‘excitement of youth’. Since Central’s Marshal took no offence at the lapse in manners, how could anyone else dare to voice their displeasure? And thus, this ‘gaffe’ was quickly swept under the rug and Big Brother was free to introduce his allies and carry on with all the planned pomp and pageantry.

Or he would be, if the hard-headed Nian Zu didn’t have the social graces of a drunken ox, interrupting after only the second introduction. “Esteemed gentlemen, it has been a long and tiring journey,” he said, with a feigned smile so faint it was barely visible, “And I am an old and tired man, so if we could table the introductions for another day? The sooner you show my soldiers to their billets, the sooner this old soldier can rest.”

“Of course, of course,” Big Brother replied, taking Nian Zu’s gruff demeanour in stride and abandoning all of his lavish plans. A lesser man might have taken offence and tried to convince the Colonel General to offer face, but this was why Jeong-Hun was Central’s Marshal while Shi-Woo didn’t even merit the rank of Lieutenant Marshal. Then again, he preferred things this way, because merchants only needed to be diplomatic when there was something to be gained, so Shi-Woo didn’t begrudge his older brother for his accomplishments.

Having long since prepared for their arrival, Jeong-Hun brought Marshal Yuzhen and Colonel General Nian Zu away while his people led Nian Zu’s soldiers to their quarters in the heart of the Citadel. This left Shi-Woo free to bring Falling Rain away, for the boy’s status and circumstances warranted a more personal touch. They could hardly let him stay in a soldier’s billet, so Shi-Woo had purchased a manor just for this occasion, one large enough to fit his family and guards, yet small enough to easily secure without an entire army camped around them. There was still room enough for the Bekhai Khishigs to do just that, and a good thing too since one could never be too cautious when it came to the safety of an Imperial Scion, which Falling Rain technically was. There was even a pond just outside the manor large enough for the Divine Turtle to swim in, but only just barely, and she made herself right at home as soon as they arrived.

Leaving his mother and sister to oversee the defences and unload the inordinate number of carriages bearing personal belongings, Falling Rain extended an invitation for tea and snacks, which Shi-Woo graciously accepted. After spending an appropriate amount of time exchanging pleasantries and sipping tea in the dining room, Shi-Woo swallowed the last bite of his delicious pastry, wiped his lips clean, and folded his hands atop the table in silent assertion that they move on to business. The Imperial Servant caught on to Shi-Woo’s intention first, but before she could quietly remind him, Falling Rain picked up on it as well. “Kuang Biao,” he said, turning to the Death Corps Guard standing directly at his side. “If you could be so kind as to... well, step outside and not eavesdrop. Pass the word along to the rest of the Death Corps as well, please.”

Hardly subtle, but at least he knew not to trust the Death Corps without question anymore. They would guard him with their lives of course, but they were also liable to share any secrets they learned with any Imperial Noble who asked, which was why the Emperor bestowed Death Corps Guards to all his important Imperial Clansmen. Once the room was secured by a trusted Bekhai Khishig and Shi-Woo’s guard, Shou Yi, Falling Rain slid a stack of documents across the table, each one bearing the likeness of a man or woman and their respective weapons. “These people were all Martial Warriors,” he said, his tone cold with anger. “I would like to know who they worked for, and I would be deeply grateful for your help.”

Noting the past tense, Shi-Woo realized he was looking at portraits of the dead. “Easily done, so long as they were locals and you still have their weapons.” Even with Shi-Woo’s vast network of connections, he was powerless to identify Imperial Assassins, but if these Martial Warriors were Central-born, then they would have been trained and equipped here as well. There were only so many Divine Blacksmiths in Central, and even the secretive ones could be recognized through unique details in their work, meaning that it was only a matter of time before Shi-Woo could narrow down the faction which employed these Martial Warriors, if not identify the warriors themselves. “Trouble on the journey over?”

“Yes, but they didn’t attack me, not directly.” Clenching his fists, Rain took a deep breath and said, “I would have preferred it if they had, and even left an opening for my enemies to take advantage of, but I played my hand too early and then was left with no other option but to hide away in my carriage. Since they couldn’t get to me, these assassins went after Luo-Luo and almost killed Song in the process, so I mean to use their employer as an object lesson. I wanted to string their bodies up and leave them outside the Citadel to see who would come claim them, but I was told this would be... frowned upon.”

Repressing a shiver, Shi-Woo managed a faint smile in response to what he hoped was a joke in poor taste. Desecration of corpses was the domain of scavengers and Defiled, not quasi-Imperial Nobles like Falling Rain, but still, Shi-Woo felt the need to offer a warning. “Your anger is understandable, but this is hardly the time or place to wage warfare, in the shadows or otherwise.”

“True, but my enemies seem to disagree.” With a smile that left no doubt as to his bloodthirsty reputation, Falling Rain added, “I would still appreciate if you could find me those names, but don’t worry. I won’t act yet. Revenge is a dish best served cold, after all.”

A novel take on the more common idiom ‘When a nobleman takes revenge, ten years is not too late’. The boy had an interesting way of seeing things, and a penchant for doing the impossible, so Shi-Woo put aside his reservations and put the documents aside. “Very well. Now I must ask, are things well between you and the Colonel General?”

The boy didn’t answer immediately, but not because he was hiding anything, but because he was surprised by Shi-Woo’s question. “...As far as I know,” he finally replied. “Why do you ask?”

“Because his choice of guests raises certain concerns.” Even the Imperial Servant seemed confused, and Shi-Woo was glad he’d spoken to his son before coming here. Sung-Hoon was right, Rain and Zheng Luo were intelligent, but inexperienced, and they both knew it, so neither one would take offence at having their mistakes pointed out. A logical response, but alas, the world was filled with egotistical fools who never learned how to handle criticism or failure, so it was a good thing Falling Rain wasn’t one of them. “On the surface, there is nothing amiss with Nian Zu’s guest list,” Shi Woo began, “But one cannot help but think he is trying to replace you with someone less... impaired.”

Which was entirely the wrong message to send at such a delicate time, especially with Shi-Woo and Marshal Yuzhen working so desperately to have Falling Rain’s non-combat contributions recognized by the world at large. Wasted effort, now. He could hear the questions now. ‘If Living Legend Nian Zu is ready to cast Rain aside, then what hope of recovery could there possibly be?’ Hmph. Soldiers playing at politics was like giving swords to drunken children. A recipe for disaster. Better if Nian Zu left politics for the politicians, rather than blunder about like a bull in a porcelain shop...

Unfortunately, despite Shi-Woo’s warning, Falling Rain didn’t seem to mind. “Is that what he’s doing? Not a bad choice. Zian and BoShui are too old to be young talents, so Huushal is probably the best pick unless Nian Zu can convince Fung to work harder. Lack of motivation is what’s holding him back, so maybe this is a good thing.”

Shi-Woo wholeheartedly disagreed, but there was nothing to be gained from convincing Falling Rain that this was a disaster in the making. Besides, even if the Colonel General had erred or had ill designs, Rain wasn’t the sort of man to act without hard proof. He was ruthless to his enemies, but sincere to his friends, two reasons why Shi-Woo stood by his side for so long. Putting the politically inept Nian Zu out of mind, he moved on to other topics of importance, discussing the news of the citadel and specifics regarding what he should expect from his enemies, as well as how they should proceed from here. There was so much still to do and so little time to do it, for in three short days, the highest echelons of nobility in the outer provinces would gather here in the Central Citadel, ostensibly to celebrate the Imperial victory at Sinuji. In truth, most would be watching to see the Legate’s attitude towards ‘Imperial Consort’ Falling Rain and learn if the boy’s Imperial title was worth the parchment it was written on, for many had received concubines and offers of peerage for themselves.

There were new and exciting times ahead, and Shi-Woo prayed to the Mother Above that he’d backed the right horse, because if not, then the whole Yo family might be dragged down along with him.

Assuming they survived, of course.

Chapter Meme