Savage Divinity

The ebb and flow of battle lines portrayed a tale of strife and sacrifice, but one Song had no part in.

Idle and anxious as the conflict raged on around her, she stood by Erdene with one hand holding her drawn sabre while running the other through Princess’s thick, bristling fur. Tucked inside her shoulder bag which lay slung across the quin’s back, the weasel-bear poked her head out from the flaps, turning this way and that as she emitted rumbling growls of threat and warning. Ferocious though she might appear, Song knew the sweet girl would much rather avoid confrontation wherever possible, but being a slow, near-sighted creature of formidable fang and muscle, fleeing would always be an option of last resort. Affected by Princess’s audible trepidation, the other animals were also on edge, huddled together on the wagon in search of safety and comfort as they trembled in fear. Not Mama Bun though, who stood perched on her hind legs peering out at the battlefield, a watchful protector ready to defend her family with her life.

Not that Song expected much from the foolishly courageous bicorn rabbit. No, she was more concerned with making sure Mama Bun stayed in the wagon instead of hopping off to go commit suicide by headbutting a Defiled Chosen in the shin. At least the baby bunnies were all more level-headed, all hiding their faces in Aurie’s fur or burrowing under the bears’ bellies, save for sweet George who was flopped on his side and fast asleep. The laughing birds were also being well-behaved, with Roc, Yipi, and a few others standing vigil on the wagon sides, while the others roosted on and around the other animals. The birds were a clever bunch, frightened by the din of battle yet smart enough not to fly off into the sky, where they would undoubtedly be struck down by the constant deluge of stones, bolts, and arrows arcing overhead and sailing towards the Defiled horde.

This was Song’s fault for bringing the pet wagon so close to Rain’s carriage without thinking things through. True, she was Oath-Sworn to remain within five kilometres of his person, but she could easily have stayed behind the Irregulars and still had plenty of room to work with. Then again, the laughing birds preferred roosting atop the carriage which meant they would’ve been left on their own for the duration of battle, but Roc was an able guardian who appeared undaunted by the death and bloodshed, his feathers only lightly ruffled as he watched the carnage unfold with startling calm. Perhaps it was because he’d seen battles before, or perhaps it was simply instinct as the leader of his flock, but the other laughing birds took their cues from his calm presence and behaved themselves while keeping to the confines of the wagon, a feat Song would have once believed impossible.

The bears and wildcats were not faring as well, their quivering bodies and plaintive stares paining Song more gravely than any weapon ever could, especially poor Jimjam kneading away at Baloo’s shoulder. She desperately wished she could bring the animals away to safety and solace, but both were in short supply here on the fields of Central. This engagement might well be the greatest battle the Empire had seen in centuries, though from the sounds of things, that title might not remain theirs for long as conflicts broke out at Castle Wulin and along the coast of the Azure Sea. Still, with more than half-a-million Imperial soldiers facing off against Mother knows how many Defiled, this was shaping up into a battle for the ages, one which would be studied in depth by budding Officers for years to come.

Song was curious to know the details herself. If the Imperial forces were outnumbered by less than five to one, then she would consider that a blessing. One to ten was considered the golden ratio, to have one Imperial soldier for every ten Defiled to ensure victory, but that was when defending a well-fortified position, which this was not, and against typical Defiled, which the Chosen were far from. This type of engagement was rarely seen even in the annals of history, a sprawling, open field battle between two massive, well-equipped forces. Rebellions were common enough, but for an entire army to turn against the Empire was almost unheard of, save for a dozen or so times since the Empire’s founding. What’s more, in every one of those examples, the rebellion began with the seizure of a critically important location, whether it be a city, fortress, treasury, or what have you, all of which were typically well fortified. There were not many commanders foolish enough to abandon their fortified positions in order to do battle against an equally powerful enemy force, which meant the examples Song had to draw from were few and far between.

Even the smaller scale skirmishes fought in this manner couldn’t hold a light to this grand battle. Those usually read like a series of carefully calculated movements, like pieces on a chessboard shifting into position for one, grand, climatic attack. Officer One leads his retinue to hold the centre, while Officers Two and Three break through the flanks. Officer Four falters and falls, but Soldier One rallies his comrades and holds out long enough for Officers Five and Six to arrive and save the day. It all seemed so cut and dry, detailing every major event and variable as if it all added up on a balance sheet of cause and effect.

In a battle of this size, however, there was nothing but chaos and bloodshed, two factions locked in bitter combat, with no mercy given and none asked for. Try as she might to make sense of the situation, Song was unsure if the Imperials were winning, losing, or holding firm. To make matters worse, she had not been called upon to join the fray, and instead was relegated to permanent pet duty by her immediate commander Kuang Biao. The taciturn Peak Expert never once came to her to ask if she would care to fight, and simply left her to her own devices, treating her as mere luggage to guard and protect rather than a fellow soldier to fight alongside.

As proof of this, the former Royal Guardian assigned her eight protectors, Yellow One through Eight respectively, but not the same Yellow One through Eight Song was familiar with and previously fought beside. Ever since Rain rose to the Office of Legate, the Death Corps soldiers serving under him all had their ranks reshuffled and names reassigned, much to her dismay. The former Yellow One was now Wood Ninety-Eight, and Song only knew this because she went looking for the gruff and humourless woman when preparing to ride out for Castle JiangHu. Unfortunately, Kuang Biao rejected Song’s request to have her old retinue of Death Corps with her, stating that Wood Ninety-Eight was too weak to properly protect her, as if she were some sort of fragile maiden who needed to be coddled and cared for. Perhaps that was exactly how the former Royal Guardian saw her though, since Song’s strength counted as a mere drop in the bucket when measuring both armies as a whole. In fact, her presence might be lowering the overall strength of the Imperial forces, considering this new Yellow One was likely a Peak Expert, and Song suspected Yellow Two through Eight were the same. The depths of the Imperial Clan seemed more unfathomable than ever, but at least they were united against the Enemy.

In short, Song was a detriment to the cause, a burden to be guarded, and both the Bekhai and the Empire would be better off without her.

Never before had she felt so small and insignificant when faced with the prospect of battle, utterly helpless and forced to watched as Warriors of the Empire fought, bled, and died. Lives were spent like raindrops in a thunderstorm, yet nothing changed in her eyes, the Imperial forces holding firm while the Defiled marched ever forward to engage. Off on the right flank, Mama led five-thousand Khishigs including Sister Mila to deliver death from afar, and Sister-in-Law Sarnai did the same with Niece Alsantset on the left, all while Aunty Ghurda sat in reserve, watching and waiting for the opportune moment to strike. At some point, Yan disappeared into the chaotic mess which was the left flank, and emerged sometime later covered in blood and sweat, yet still the Imperial and Defiled lines remained locked in place, with neither side gaining or losing ground to any significant degree. Mister Rustram made two trips into the battle to reinforce flagging sections, but both times he withdrew as soon as matters stabilized so he could keep his reserves well rested.

Better men and women gave their lives in defence of the Empire, while Song stood idle. She could do more to help, should do more, but instead, she did nothing.

All across the battlefield, dying screams and roars of defiance intermingled into a single, steady stream of indecipherable sound. Tired soldiers withdrew and were replaced by fresh reserves, while dead Defiled were trampled over by new ones eager to take their place. In less than half an hour, the mound of bodies grew so high, Brigadier Hongji ordered his soldiers to shift back because the Enemy Defiled were leaping off heaped piles of corpses and launching aerial assaults that were equally fatal to attacker and defender alike. One for one trades were a net loss for the Empire, and this movement marked the first break in the near constant waves of bolts falling down upon the Defiled as the Irregulars faltered and stumbled in place, milling about in confusion from such a simple manoeuvre. It took long seconds for their leaders to sort everything out, long seconds Gongsun Qi took full advantage of to try and surround the partially isolated Death Corps contingent. Having anticipated this reaction, Mama’s Khishigs charged into the rear of the Defiled mob and drew their attention away from the beleaguered centre, relieving enough pressure to allow the Death Corps to fight their way free and fall back into line with their allies once the Irregulars were finally out of their way.

In retrospect, keeping Rain between the Death Corps and Irregulars might not have been the best idea. If, Heavens forbid, the Death Corps line were to crumble apart, Rain, Song, and all the sweet pets would be caught between the Enemy and a panicked horde of commoners, which boded poorly for their chances of survival. Glancing over to the empty area where she suspected his carriage might be, Song idly wondered if Rain was being himself and standing on the battlefield without a care for his safety, or if the mysterious Guard Leader had finally managed to reign him in and keep him locked inside the carriage. Song personally hoped for the latter, since it meant Lin-Lin, Ping Ping, Blackjack, and the red panda would be relatively safe, or rather as safe as their current circumstances would allow.

Forcing herself to relax her grip, Song rested her sabre’s tip in the dirt and flexed her fingers just to get the blood flowing once more, before doing the same with the rest of her rigid muscles. Restlessness and anxiety was making her tense, tension she could ill afford if she should have need to do battle. It didn’t look likely, but things could change in an instant, or so the history books would have Song believe. There was also the ever present risk of Wraiths or Peak Experts roaming the battlefield in search of easy prey, and while Song was being kept hidden under a veil of Concealment, this was exactly the sort of target the Enemy assassins would be searching for.

Granted, they’d likely be disappointed to find a slave girl and a wagon full of pets, but on the bright side, at least Song’s presence might draw attention away from other, more important Imperial targets. That was really the most she could hope for, as she was unable to affect the battle’s outcome in any other manner. That was the harsh truth of it all, her progress along the Martial Path proceeding along far too slowly in comparison to her peers. Yan was fast becoming a beloved leader of soldiers, having blossomed into an able commander since her first foray on the front lines and earning a reputation as a formidable combatant on the field of battle. The Blessing of Wind allowed her to kill Chosen with near impunity as her ranged Wind Blades slipped through the gaps in their Runic armour and claimed their lives with ease. Then there was Zian and Tam Taewoong, who were equally matched in time spent upon the front lines since the First Imperial Grand Conference. Both had progressed by leaps and bounds in the time since, and both were expected to become Peak Experts given time, with whispers of Zian following in his father’s footsteps to achieve this penultimate breakthrough before forty, if not earlier. Why that might be, Song wasn’t entirely sure, but she did know that the measure of a Peak Expert wasn’t solely strength of arm, but rather was weighted more heavily towards the utilization of External Chi.

Domain. That was the next milestone along Song’s Martial Path, the final step before tackling the hurdle of Peak Expert, and while Mama was pleased with her progress, Song was far from satisfied. Everyone around her was improving by leaps and bounds, while she moved forward one small step at a time, and though it might be asking too much of the Heavens, she too wanted to be of use to Mama. Even from this great distance, Song could make out Sister Mila’s position on the battlefield, her unique weapon Paragon flashing in the afternoon light as it whipped out and scythed through any Defiled who drew close. During Mama’s timed charge, Sister Mila must have scored at least two dozen kills in a matter of seconds, if not more, while only Sister Tursinai had any chance of measuring up. This meant Sister Mila’s performance on the field of battle was a match for Sister Tursinai, a stand-out genius a decade her senior who was only outmatched by Gerel, a once-in-a-thousand years talent who became a Peak Expert at thirty three.

Meanwhile, Song was comparable to a run-of-the-mill Captain or Senior Captain level talent. Not terrible, but not particularly outstanding either, with little to no prospects for the future.

Lips puckering at the errant thought, she took a deep breath and sought Balance to centre her thoughts. It was easy to see why so many Martial Warriors grew frustrated and lost motivation, since they were in no way compelled to work hard. That was how Song felt now, and she almost wished Rain would order her to train just so motivation would no longer factor in. Things were so much easier when she’d been a mere slave with no prospects. Back then, her only goal in life was to follow Teacher Du’s lessons and progress along the Martial Path, nothing more, nothing less. There was security in such simplicity, a sense of freedom from responsibility, but now that she was Li Song, daughter of Akanai and Husolt, she was free to do whatever she pleased, yet constrained by expectations to live up to. Mama and Papa loved Song regardless of whether or not she continued progressing along the Martial Path, but as Mama’s daughter and Disciple, Song didn’t want to shame her by becoming a lacklustre Martial Warrior. The problem was, she couldn’t even begin to imagine how to proceed from here, for she had seen firsthand the vast difference between herself and Kyung, not to mention the vast, insurmountable chasm between herself and Teacher Du.

Out there on the field of battle, Du Min Gyu slaughtered Demons and Peak Experts with laughable ease. On the surface, his actions didn’t look overly complex or awe-inspiring, but the thought process behind each and every decision made Song’s head spin with confusion. A simple twist of the wrist brought his sabre in a curving arc, one which blocked three strikes and claimed two lives. An unremarkable side step moved him in position to avoid a counterattack and aim a thrust towards an unsuspecting foe. Languidly raising his arm ever so slightly moved his weapon in perfect position to block or attack, defending and threatening all at once and leaving his foe frozen with indecision before the sabre claimed his life. Simple, yet brilliant decisions combined with powerful and unexpected movements, these were the core tenants of Teacher Du’s strength. With this alone, he would stand out from the masses, but add in his superb grasp of battlefield positioning and the Blessing of Wind, and Song was certain she could never match up.

Never. Even if she worked day and night without food or sleep, no amount of hard work could ever make up for lacking talent.

But as Mama would say, one step at a time. Teacher Du’s skills were honed from a lifetime of experience, with almost half his life spent embroiled in bitter conflict, and the bulk of the rest spent studying the Martial Path. Song was still young yet, and she had plenty of time to follow in his footsteps, but Mama was adamant she ‘find her own Path’, whatever that meant.

Frustrated from going around in circles, Song put aside her personal woes and focused on the battle before her. The Death Corps were a wonder to behold in action, their matching dark armour and standard issue halberds giving off the impression of a staunch, unending legion of Warriors, but the same could be said of the Enemy Defiled, clad in their striking Runic armour and uniforms. The difference, however, lay in how each side fought, for while the so-called Chosen looked like disciplined Imperials, the majority fought like crazed Defiled. Against standard Imperial soldiers, this proved troublesome, as even their mundane brigantine armour proved highly effective at warding off even the sharpest and sturdiest of steel weapons. Combined with the reckless, relentless aggression of the Defiled, this made these former Imperials a formidable foe, but in front of the iron discipline and steel full-plate of the Death Corps, the Chosen fell like wheat before the scythe.

It all came down to coordination, in that the Defiled had none to speak of, a failing the Death Corps took full advantage of. Standing shoulder to shoulder in tight formation, the dark-armoured slave soldiers all fought in similar stances, with left hand and left foot forward, and right hand and right foot back. To attack, they generally either thrust forward using both hands, swung upwards with both hands like wielding a shield, or released their left hand to deliver a longer, less inhibited thrust while taking a step forward with the right foot. The trick to their effectiveness was simple to the extreme, in that no two adjacent Death Corps would ever both swing or step forward at the same time, so that the attacker remained well defended by the comrades to either side. The Defiled, on the other hand, knew how to march and stand together in closed ranks, but once battle was joined, all semblance of discipline went out the window. Despite wielding decently long spears which would allow them to use the same tactics as the Death Corps, the Defiled Chosen used a wider array of different attacks. The reckless ones charged in to deliver a killing thrust, but most of the time, these attacks were either parried, blocked, or stopped by armour, leaving the attacker within range for a short thrust to the face, neck, groin, or leg, the four easiest vulnerable areas for the Death Corps to target. Any other attack was often even less effective, like those Defiled who swung their spears like staves or halberds, leaving them isolated from their allies and unsupported when their attack was blocked by one Death Corps guard while a second one down the line delivered a killing blow. No matter how the Enemy attacked, it often boiled down to a fight between a single Defiled Chosen against two, three, or even more Death Corps guards working in concert.

Rain talked about this style of fighting more than once, and everyone had dismissed his ideas as mad, but only because he suggested it as a means to train and raise an army of commoners. Now that she’d seen his idea in action, Song had to admit it was frightening to see how effective this sort of coordinated efficiency could be, not to mention how daunting it would be to face them. Despite taking on the bulk of the pressure due to their forward position, the Death Corps were holding out with minimal difficulty while the ‘solid’ left flank was struggling to hold firm, because although they were supporting one another in along the line, the imperial soldiers under Yobi-no’s command for the most part were fighting an endless series of one against one fights. That was how warfare was done in the Empire, how it’d been for as long as anyone could remember, or so Song believed, but apparently, the Imperial Clan had always known better.

Small wonder the Death Corps were so renowned despite what Song saw as only above-average individual strength. Should she ever be matched against them, as few as three standard guards might be enough to overwhelm her, and even if she lucked out and defeated all three of her foes, it would still be a hard fought fight, with plenty more Death Corps to go through on the field of battle.

“Li-Li. Li-Li! Over here Li-Li!” Glancing left, then right, the left again, Song finally found Lin-Lin, peering out of the carriage window less than ten meters away. “Come here please.” Striding over with a stiff gait, Song brought Erdene and Princess with her, as well as Yellow One through Four who refused to leave her side. Puffing her cheeks in adorable frustration, Lin-Lin motioned for Song to step up to the window and look inside. Though wary of her mischief, Song figured even Lin-Lin wouldn’t pull pranks in the middle of battle and did as she asked, only to immediately see why the half-hare was being so circumspect.

Because much like sweet, simple George, Rain had somehow fallen fast asleep while battle raged on around him, his head resting against the carriage wall and arms wrapped tight around Ping Ping, who greeted Song with a pleased squeak and burst of Loving Aura tinged with mild concern.

“It happened just before we stopped to fight,” Lin-Lin explained, petulant and frustrated to the extreme. No surprise there, as that was over an hour ago, which spoke volumes to her commendable restraint. Normally, the restless half-hare couldn’t sit still for five minutes without complaining of boredom, so to wait in the confines of this carriage for an entire hour with only Guard Leader to talk to was utterly remarkable. Uncharacteristically abashed of her actions, Lin-Lin glowered ever so slightly at Rain and pouted. “So, um, Li-Li... can we trade places? I was gonna stay with hubby the whole time and keep him safe but... it’s really boring ya? So maybe you could look after him for a bit, and I’ll look after the animals. Is that okay?”

Considering Lin-Lin also had a quiver of arrows slung across her shoulder and a longbow in hand, Song suspected she would do more than just ‘look after’ the animals, though at least sweet Blackjack was being carried in a pouch instead of perched between her ears, where any errant movements could send him flying off. Still, there was no harm trading places for a while, and at least then Lin-Lin could contribute to the battle effort, which was more than Song could do standing around outside. Nodding in agreement, she sheathed her sabre and lifted Princess off Erdene’s back while Lin-Lin and the veiled Guard Leader filed out, then headed inside to sit with Rain and Ping Ping. Pausing at the door, she looked to Yellow One and tilted her head in question. Discerning her meaning, Yellow One offered a small shake of her head and the ghost of a smile, expressing her belief that Song and Rain would be better protected if she remained outside with the rest of the guards. Why she felt the need to smile as well, Song couldn’t say, but she inwardly shrugged and closed the carriage door behind her, encasing the interior in gloomy shadows and leaving her sitting alone next to Princess, Rain, and Ping Ping.

The red panda too, who was currently hiding inside a cushioned box attached to Rain’s wrist. Leaning over him and Ping Ping to lift the lid, Song peeked inside and earned herself an adorable growl from the darling, scowling beast, a single paw slowly raising as if daring her to reach in. Resisting the urge to poke his nose, she dropped in some dried fruit, closed the lid, and sat back with a soft sigh, glad to be off her feet for a bit. Out of sight and out of mind, the tension melted from Song’s frame as she sank into the cushioned seats and let Princess out of her purse, but the irritable weasel-bear hunkered in place and stared out at the battle she could no longer see. Patting the growling grouch to soothe her nerves, Song smiled as a concerned Ping Ping shimmied out of Rain’s embrace to snuggle with Princess instead, pulsing her Loving Aura while nuzzling her chin against dense, prickly back fur. It was sweet of her to try and comfort Princess, but the weasel-bear was having none of it, still rumbling at the perceived threat to warn it away, and Song wondered if she’d erred in bringing the pets along. War was a human concept, one animals might well never truly understand, and truth be told, Song didn’t entirely understand it either.

Conflict was necessary, but all out war? Against other Imperials, war could eventually end in surrender, but there could never be peace with the Enemy. They simply wouldn’t allow it, for the Defiled were drawn to death and driven towards destruction. Such was the cost of Imbalance, of giving into emotion and believing the Father’s foul lies. Perhaps that was why animals never turned Defiled, because they were not creatures of emotion, but instinct. This wasn’t to say that animals were incapable of emotion, as Ping Ping was living proof otherwise, only that animals never gave in to emotion, because their instincts for continued survival would always supersede whatever lies the Father’s foul servants might whisper.

Which raised an interesting question. It was well known that while animals never turned Defiled, they were capable of becoming Demons. This meant there was a line which delineated a marked difference between Defiled and Demon, but where did that line lie? When Guan Suo died, Rain feared Ping Ping would turn into a Demon, so perhaps that was the answer, where emotion overruled instinct. A traumatic experience was required to overturn the scales of Balance, which Song supposed she already knew, but now she understood why. Becoming a Demon was akin to ultimate surrender, accepting death without the courage to follow through. That was why Song was never in danger of Defilement or Demonization, because if she had the means to go against her Oaths and end her own life, she would have done so without hesitation.

All the more fool her, for then she would have missed out on this wonderful life she now lived. Stroking sweet Ping Ping’s leathery head, Song smiled fondly at the turtle’s satisfied expression as Princess’s growls slowly diminished in volume and intensity. Eventually, the weasel-bear seemed to forget why she was so concerned and looked to Song with a confused, yet hopeful expression, wondering if this Loving Aura was emanating from her, rather than the strange, overly friendly turtled pressed up against her. Rather than try to explain, Song simply hugged Princess and Ping Ping together, to which the latter responded with another pulse of Loving Aura, while the former merely huffed a small sigh.

Despite the warm atmosphere inside the carriage, the battle continued raging outside, and soon, Song’s thoughts returned to her personal inadequacies. Sister Mila, Junior Brother Fung, Senior Sister Alsantset, Yan, Huushal, Lu Jia Zian, Tam Taewoong, and so many others, each and every one of them was out there making a name for themselves, while Song sat in ultimate safety with up to eight Peak Experts responsible for keeping her alive. More if you counted Rain’s unseen guardians, of which there were too many to count, though she should try regardless. Naaran wasn’t here, nor were any of the Bekhai, since they were all with Mama out in the field. Rain’s mute guards were somewhere close by, though where, no one could really say. They were a strange bunch, zealous and loyal to a fault. So concerned with Rain’s well being, they trusted no one else to keep him safe, and thus always had at least two Concealed guards around him at all times. Kuang Biao also took his duties seriously, and while he hadn’t shared what arrangements he’d made to safeguard Rain, if he tasked eight Peak Experts to watch Song, then there were probably two or three times that stationed around Rain. Granted, she wasn’t sure if all her guards were Peak Experts, or if there were enough Peak Experts in the Death Corps to spare so many at once, but...

but...

Why was she so concerned with Rain’s guard detail? Strange.

Stirring in his sleep, Rain’s slack expression twisted in concern, his arms instinctively wrapping around himself as if to ward off the cold. Song wasn’t the only one to notice, as both Ping Ping and Princess turned to take in his reaction, but while the latter paid him no mind and returned to cuddle Song some more, Ping Ping ambled over and tried to squeezed herself back into his embrace. Alas, his arms remained locked tight and all she could do was watch as his expression twisted in fear and concern while muttering unintelligible syllables, odd sounds which flowed together and sounded like proper words, but in a language Song had never heard. According to Sister Mila and Yan, he did this often during nightmares, but they both found it endearing for some reason and gave it no further thought. Personally, Song thought it made him look and sound foolish, but far be it for her to judge Sister Mila for her strange taste in men.

Still, if he was having nightmares, then perhaps Song should do something to help. Lifting Princess’s bulk off the seat, she shifted them both over until Rain’s arm was resting against the weasel-bear’s fur, which she didn’t much like, but accepted after Song tickled her chin. It didn’t help Rain in the least though, so Song reached over with her free hand and patted his shoulder ever so gently.

Only for the carriage to lurch as the horses bolted away.

Steadying Rain to keep him from falling out of his seat, Song released Princess to grab the hilt of her sabre, but rather than draw it in a reverse grip and risk impaling herself while going over an unexpected bump, she readied to give her life to protect Rain, Princess, and Ping Ping should the need demand it. “Stay in the carriage.” Yellow One’s Sending arrived just in time, but it did little to assuage Song’s fears as she added, “Guard the Legate.”

A clash of steel emanating from far too close accentuated the danger they were all in, and Song briefly regretted allowing Lin-Lin to run free. Strong as these Death Corps might be, there was no doubt in Song’s mind that Guard Leader was stronger, for there were few Martial Warriors who could dive into a living shark and explode it from the inside, and most who could wouldn’t even think to try it. Princess’s growls were back in full force, and even sweet Ping Ping seemed distressed by their current situation, her plaintive squeaks sending a spear of sorrow to pierce through Song’s frail heart. There was no time to comfort the animals though, for the carriage doors burst open to reveal the toothy grin of a grey-skinned Wraith. Anyone who could get past so many Peak Expert guards had to be a Peak Expert himself, or perhaps this was one of those half-step Divinity Wraiths like those who brought Shen ZhenWu low. Either way, Song was clearly outmatched and should just accept her fate.

Even as the dissonant thought rang through her mind, Song’s sabre emerged from its sheath to strike at the Wraith, but her backhanded grip slowed her down so much, even Tate could’ve blocked the attack. However, before her sabre even left the sheath, the Wraith disappeared from the doorway in a spray of water. Beak open and eyes narrowed, Ping Ping sat perched atop Rain’s legs and watched the carriage door swing and slam shut before snapping her jaws shut with an audible click, though she remained vigilant even after the carriage slowed and the danger had passed.

“I’m coming in.” Startled by the Sending, Song almost reacted too slowly to stop Ping Ping from firing a Water Ball at Yellow One, but luckily the sweet girl recognized the guard’s armoured form. Squeaking in warning as Song’s hand reached over to cover her open beak, the Divine Turtle only relaxed when she saw Yellow One stopped outside. “We must move the Legate,” Yellow One Sent, warily watching Ping Ping but unwilling to back away. “The carriage is too easily found by those who know how to look.”

Which made perfect sense to Song. A large carriage required significantly more effort to Conceal than a few individuals since the carriage was larger in size, which meant it required a larger Domain to cover it. Unless Yellow One and her comrades knew how to Conceal themselves from probing Domains, then the Enemy Wraiths only needed to attack the largest target to find the Legate, whereas they could split up into groups and force the assassins to guess at which Concealed bunch was hiding the Legate. Putting away her sabre, Song hurriedly helped Princess into her bag before lifting the comatose Rain into her arms and bringing him out of the carriage.

“Is the Legate injured?”

Genuine concern tinged Yellow One’s Sending, but Song shook her head. “Sleeping.” Seeing the questioning look, she merely shrugged in reply, also unsure how he could sleep through all this excitement. This clearly wasn’t natural, but there was no time to think. The clamour of battle struck her like a hammer as she exited the carriage, but she grit her teeth and checked her surroundings. As expected, there were many more hidden Experts about than before, mostly more Death Corps and a handful of Khishigs, but four of the armoured guards were bleeding heavily and unable to stand. “Have two of your people get those four to the Healers.” Before Yellow One could argue, she added, “They’re of no use to the Legate dead. We have more than enough guards to protect him.”

As if the Heavens meant to prove her wrong, the area exploded into chaos as more Wraiths emerged from Concealment, their twin blades dripping with insidious poison and dark eyes radiating sadistic glee. Yellow One reacted first, her halberd sweeping out to smash the closest Wraith aside, and Song was unable to follow the rest of the exchange. In the blink of an eye, three more friendly guards were down, including one of Rain’s previously unrevealed fanatics. Belatedly opening wide, Ping Ping’s summoned Water Ball faded back into obscurity as the sweet but slow turtle tried to understand what just took place. Divine Beast she might be, but Ping Ping was inexperienced and untrained in the ways of war and conflict, a sheltered creature who lived in relative safety for centuries, if not millennia. She lacked both the hunter’s alacrity and the ever-vigilance of prey, which meant she let her guard down far too easily and reacted much too late, but that wasn’t her fault. Ping Ping was a sweet innocent, and if Song had her way, the Divine Turtle would remain so, because she was too kind and pure to be marred by this ugly, tainted world.

Better to burn this whole world down and rebuild atop the ashes.

“We must move.” Rather than waiting for a response, Yellow One grabbed Song by the arm and pulled her along beside her, while another Death Corps Guard, Yellow Three it looked like, took his place on Song’s other side. Rain’s own guards fell in beside them, and a glance back showed that the Bekhai Healers had already arrived to tend to the wounded. Song prayed they would all keep their lives, but it was a vain hope, as she was fairly certain several of those guards had already been dead by the time she laid eyes on them. Honouring the dead would have to wait however, as they came under attack a third time, and this time, Song noticed that none of the guards expected it. Each and every one of them were caught by surprise, and as she thought back to the previous attack, it’d happened there as well. The Wraiths appeared and then the guards reacted, but that shouldn’t be the case. Assuming they were all under Concealment, at least one of the Wraiths would’ve had to reveal themselves while sweeping the area with their Domain. That was how anti-Concealment measures worked, unless one knew how to Conceal the touch of their Domain.

Which meant... these Wraiths were far more competent than any Wraiths they’d ever encountered before, their familiarity with Concealment allowing them to even Conceal the touch of their Domains...

A brief but intense clash ensued, but after a full second passed, the only Wraith still standing was summarily dispatched by Ping Ping’s Water Ball. No, not dispatched, merely knocked off his feet, but a flying dagger to the heart finished the fallen Defiled off. Scowling as he appeared in plain sight and retrieved his Spiritual Knife, Healer Tokta confirmed Song’s suspicions with a frustrated snarl. “Concealment does us no good. Let us move in strength instead.” Eight more Bekhai guards appeared from thin air, and a dozen more of Rain’s fanatics, though Song suspected there were still more in hiding. Frog-marching Song away, this cadre of Peak Experts escorted Rain behind the Irregulars to safety with no further incident. Some of them must have still been Concealed, because none of the commoners spotted Rain’s comatose form and panicked, though more than one gave their eclectic group a curious stare.

Since no one asked to take him, Song held onto Rain, even after he wrapped his arms around her neck and snuggled peacefully into her shoulder. How he could still sleep was a mystery for the ages, but she would be sure to ask him another time. She only hoped Lin-Lin and the pets were all safe, but as if summoned by the mere thought of her, the half-hare appeared atop Erdene with Coto and Gatai’s wagon in tow, and all the pets accounted for. “Sorry Li-Li,” Lin-Lin whispered, mournfully eyeing the wounded guards, some who only just succumbed to the insidious Wraith poison coursing through their veins. “I got a little carried away and stepped too far away.”

It was hardly her fault the Wraiths attacked, and Song said as much, but Lin-Lin would not be consoled. Instead, she draped herself across Song’s back with arms also wrapped around her neck, softly sighing as she watched her beloved hubby sleep. At least her quiver was almost entirely empty now, with only one arrow left to her after contributing to the battle effort, and Rain was still alive and unharmed, though more than a few had given their lives to make this so. There were a few muttered conversations between the Khishig guards, discussion on how the Wraiths kept finding Rain’s Concealed group without revealing their presence, but aside from sharing Song’s unfounded theory that these Wraiths were simply stronger than any others they’d ever encountered, there were no other working explanations.

Just as Song was about to ask about Wraiths and why they were different from regular Defiled, the din of battle died down for the first time in hours. No, rather, her ears were deafened by a single, booming clash, one so loud it felt like her eardrums had popped and the world gone silent. As her hearing slowly recovered, she saw the guards all staring off into the distance and followed their gaze to the right flank, where Mister Rustram’s forces were still holding the line with help from Mama, Sister Mila, and five-thousand Sentinels.

At first, Song didn’t see what they were all looking at, but then a flash of movement caught her attention, and her breath caught in her throat. For there, up in the skies above the swarming melee, Song spotted Mama’s distinct, blonde bun and silver axe-lance trading blows with Gongsun Qi and his oversized Green Dragon Crescent Blade.

The ground shook with every clash of their blades, and Mama moved too quickly for Song to register it, but the Prince of Barbarity was another story. There he was, Cloud-Stepping across the sky, moving faster than any human had any right to, yet in an almost languid, lazy manner. Each time he waved his weapon, Mama disappeared from sight, and it took several seconds and countless exchanges for Song to realize it was because Mama was being violently hurled away every time their weapons connected. Gongsun Qi was dashing about not to dodge Mama’s attacks, but to chase her down after launching her away.

The two opposing commanders were clashing head to head, and Mama was clearly losing. To Song, this was almost unthinkable, but she could hardly deny the truth before her eyes.

“Hmph. So noisy.” Before Song even thought to stop her, Lin-Lin hopped down to the ground, unshouldered her bow, and nocked her last arrow in one, smooth motion. Lifting her left foot high off the ground until her toes pointed at the skies, she aimed the arrow straight up and used the full weight of her body to draw the bow into a full arc. At the same time, her foot descended back down to stomp the ground while she sighted the arrow and loosed whilst still in motion. The bow swung out in her grip like an open door while the arrow flew off into the horizon, and Gongsun Qi plummeted from the skies, but not before Song spotted a feathered arrow protruding from his raised forearm.

Not a kill shot, but on target all the same, and Mama was quick to take advantage.

“Ah! Not fair!” Stamping her foot again in an adorable fit of pique, Lin-Lin pointed at Gongsun Qi while Song and the Death Corps stared at her in open disbelief. “He blocked my arrow! It was gonna hit him in the neck, ya?”

Despite listing off all the Martial Warriors Song expected to be outdone by, Lin-Lin name never crossed her mind. Glancing at the now empty quiver, she wondered how many of the half-hare’s targets were Peak Experts, men and women who trained for decades only to die without knowing why. For better or for worse, once word of this spread to the Empire at large, there was one thing Song knew for certain: no one would dare look down on marksmanship anymore, not once they learned a young girl not even twenty years of age almost brought down the Lord of Martial Peace himself.

Chapter Meme