Savage Divinity

As he made his way through the Bekhai camp, Binesi experienced a rush of nostalgia as the atmosphere reminded him of the forests back home, a familiar yet foreboding landscape where danger hid in every shadow.

Being in similar lines of work, he was on good terms with the Khishigs and even sparred or trained with them on occasion, for most saw it as a point of pride that one of Nian Zu’s Famed Fifty hailed from the Saint’s Tribulations Mountains. Today however, even those friendliest of faces bore more than a hint of suspicion, for one of their own had come under attack. Not just anyone either, but their scrappy little hero turned Legate, Falling Rain, which meant that regardless of how they personally felt about the boy, their pride had been trampled and spat on. Someone drew blades on the boy and tried to take his life, and the Khishigs intended to pay this debt back in kind, blood for blood with heavy interest for daring to not give face. Every last Warrior here was either a skilled hunter, trained guard, grizzled veteran, or just a cold-blooded killer eager for action, and they all watched Binesi’s passing closely to ensure no trouble would ensue. Aside from the posted sentries, not a single Khishig stood to stop or question him, but their attention sat heavily on Binesi’s shoulders like an arrow nocked and pointed at his throat, an unsettling, invisible pressure pressing down on him from all directions which set a trickle of cold sweat tracing down his back.

All this wasn’t merely for the sake of simple pride of course. The boy’s growing reputation had finally taken firm root in the soil of his homelands, and the denizens of the Saint’s Tribulations Mountains were now proud to call Falling Rain one of their own. There was a time when his reception was mixed at best, due to a wide variety of factors including his origin. How could the Bekhai take pride in the accomplishments of one of their own when they had so little to do with his upbringing? Though they were happy for his talents, it was difficult not to resent him for stealing attention away from the boys and girls born and raised in the mountains all their lives. Binesi remembered how disgruntled his people had been when word spread that the Bekhai had been invited to the Society Contests, as public sentiment agreed that the invitation should’ve belonged to all the villages of the Saint’s Tribulations Mountains, and not just the Bekhai alone. Even stranger was how the little foundling bore the brunt of the criticism despite the invitation mentioning him by name, because while Mila was a proven talent and Yan and Huushal earned their place in the Contests by defeating their peers, they saw Rain receive a spot in the party without effort and resented him for it. That was the way of simple mountain folk, an insular, prideful bunch who would grumble and groan regardless of the facts, because their people were the best of people, since they were the only people they knew.

Binesi himself had thought the same until he joined the army proper, where he came into contact with the young dragons of the Empire and realized that the Heavens were far higher than he once thought. Immovable Binesi, they called him, a strong Warrior who set the standard for excellence, as anyone who could defeat him was surely destined for greatness. A purposely humiliating reputation engineered by a smear campaign funded by the Society, but he eventually came to terms with his limits and the moniker no longer seemed so terrible.

Another reason for young Rain’s less than beloved reputation was due to simple caution. When Baatar first returned with a foundling in tow, word of the child’s harrowing state of health spread fast, a boy so beaten and malnourished it was a miracle he still drew breath. Even hearing it described set the heart to aching, but much as others sympathized with the poor boy’s plight, the people of the mountains were a pragmatic bunch and believed it would be best to send this tortured soul into the warm embrace of the Mother before the Father’s foul lies took hold of his soul from within. Then, pity turned to envy when others learned that the foundling not only had the privilege of being the Bloody Wolf’s first Disciple, he was also being trained by the respected and venerated Herald of the Storms, Chief Provost Akanai. This was a woman who single-handedly brought all the villages together under one banner and organized the Khishigs to not only defend the lands and exempt them all from Imperial taxes, but also to the betterment of all the villages both large and small.

Binesi grew up hearing tales of Akanai’s valour, tales his grandfather heard from his grandfather and ones Binesi shared with his grandchildren, Mani, Matchi, and Ayas. Martial Warriors were once worshipped and revered in the Saint’s Tribulations Mountains, for their strength was the sole reason any of the villages existed at all. The forests and mountains were home to many a murderous beast, and countless villagers were lost to their bellies year after year, but all that changed once Akanai returned home from her tour of duty. With her husband at her side, she visited every Warrior of every village to speak of her intent, but only a few cared to join what they believed was a thankless pursuit, which wasn’t too far from the truth. Undeterred by the lacklustre support, Akanai set to work with as few as a dozen Warriors at her side, her loyal Khishigs who worked day and night to clear the mountains of threats. They hunted beasts and slaughtered bandits, gathered herbs and freed slaves, and most importantly, they shared their bounty with the villages involved, a scant three to begin with.

Things continued in this manner for some months until the Khishigs uncovered signs of a Defiled incursion. A small one from the looks of things, but even a few dozen Defiled were a force to be reckoned with in the rugged terrain. At least two remote and isolated villages had already been lost to the Enemy, with all the inhabitants murdered and eaten, but this tragedy would eventually turn out to be the crowning glory of the Khishigs. Bearing proof of the Defiled presence in hand, Akanai finally convinced the other Martial Warriors to join her cause and uproot the Enemy within their lands without having to inform the Empire and risking a purge of their homes and people. The battle was a one-sided slaughter and entirely lacking in suspense as Akanai led the Warriors of the mountains to an overwhelming victory, but it showed just what the people of the Saint’s Tribulations mountains could accomplish under one banner.

In the span of her admittedly long lifetime, Akanai had done what others had once believed impossible, taken the ruling class of Warriors and turned them into a workforce of guardians and caretakers rather than rulers and overlords. The Khishigs provided food, medicine, security, and more for what most would consider a pittance, but they did so out of pride for their homeland and love of their people. Under the Chief Provost’s watchful eye, any abuse of power was quickly punished because Akanai believed that Martial Warriors were given their strength in order to nurture and protect rather than rule and dominate, a thin line to walk that she managed well. Most villages were still managed by Martial Warriors, but with benevolent guidelines set down by Akanai herself, rather than relying on the mercy of the strongest individual around. Even those who refused to join were unable to hold onto their fiefdoms, as villagers flocked to the safety and prosperity of the villages under the Khishig banners. It took less than a year for Akanai to gather five thousand Khishigs to her side, and less than a decade to bring the entire Saints Tribulations Mountains under her protection, a task she upheld to this very day without interfering with the day to day operation of the villages she guarded.

For this and more, Akanai was beloved by all the peoples of the mountains, their benevolent protector from on high. Many a village Speaker had brought their most talented youths over to display their skills in hopes of catching her eye, while countless hot-headed Warriors set her as their goal to overcome and surpass, but for four centuries, she held her place as the Number One Warrior of the Saint’s Tribulations Mountains, and now she’d shown strength enough to contend against the formidable and fearsome traitor General, Bai Qi. Even without that last notch on her belt, it was easy to see why others might resent the foundling Rain for the attentions their beloved hero paid him, and not even becoming Legate of the outer provinces was enough to resolve this underlying indignation.

But now, that foundling had more than proven himself worthy of not only their respect, but their love and adoration both. It seemed obvious in hindsight, but it took the better part of two years for Binesi to realize one simple truth, and only because his beloved wife Asane wrote him a letter calling him a mule-headed fool. He’d written several letters complaining about the boy, and she responded with a scathing rebuke for complaining so much about ‘the Legate’s noble spirit’, one ‘worthy of his Grand Mentor’. Truly a matter of seeing things more clearly from afar, for despite seeing the boy’s effort bear fruit firsthand, Binesi never connected the boy’s efforts to what the Chief Provost had accomplished.

The boy’s schools and orphanages were laudable, but many grumbled about how such facilities would be more welcome back home, except they already enjoyed the lessons from Khishigs and Speakers alike. So too was the sentiment regarding his book of inventions, which earned him wealth enough to beggar even the richest of northern merchants, but the people of the mountains saw no benefit from it at all. Mostly because they didn’t need it, as the Khishigs provided more than enough to enrich them, but the grass was always greener in another man’s fields. The Districts were a different enough beast that Binesi never even considered how similar they were to the various villages of the mountains, self-contained homesteads that were wholly reliant on others for safety and succour, though young Rain focused more on efficiency and productivity at the expense of fostering a sense of community and cooperation.

What Akanai had done for the Saint’s Tribulation Mountains, young Rain now sought to do for the Empire at large, and it was difficult not to love him for it.

Even more shameful was how the boy had taken on this arduous task with only minimal assistance from his people, or even informing them of his lofty goals. Now that his aspirations had been made clear, the Khishigs were raring to rise up in support, perhaps to prove that this foundling was surely one of their own, or perhaps to be a part of a cause that would have lasting effect on many generations to come. The creation of the Khishigs made it so that the people of the mountains no longer had to rely on the Empire, a fact which they took pride in, but it also made them prejudiced against outsiders since it set themselves apart from the Empire at large. Unlike most from his village, Binesi loved the Empire with all his heart, but that didn’t mean he didn’t think it could be improved, and now young Rain had taken on this thankless job and his efforts shamed them all.

Now, this earnest and intrepid rising dragon had come under attack from Imperial agents, and these devoted Warriors sensed blood in the waters, which meant that anyone and everyone could be a threat to their young hero, even Binesi himself. Never mind that he was one of them, a proud mountain man like the rest of them, or how he’d been sent here by Colonel General Nian Zu as a show of support, alongside nine of the famed fifty should the boy have need of their assistance. The Khishigs cared not for facts and would remain vigilant against all outsiders, even one of their own who served elsewhere. This was a new sort of sentiment that was unfamiliar to him, as many Khishigs were former soldiers themselves, or used the training provided to jump start a military career. Today however, their cold stares contained more than a hint of disdain and disappointment, not quite like one would view a traitor, but not too far from it either.

It was the same way the Death Corps Guards viewed Binesi, and he saw in them an even hotter fire burning for Falling Rain. If Colonel General Nian Zu’s suspicions were true, which these days were Marshal Yuzhen’s suspicions and generally correct, the Death Corps late arrival to the conflict was suspicious at best. Upon seeing the rage and intensity lingering behind their maddened stares, Binesi believed it, but he also believed they had no choice in the matter, as Death Corps were unable to follow their hearts. These were Warriors who would gladly fight and die for Falling Rain, and their ire was raised because they had been denied the opportunity, meaning there were Imperial politics in play that even Marshal Yuzhen was unaware of, hence why Binesi was here to investigate.

A fact which didn’t go unnoticed by young Rain, who was much sharper than he appeared, his youthful and almost goofy exterior hiding an exceedingly perceptive and intelligent mind. Sitting on the grass with legs spread and back hunched, his actions were wholly unbefitting of his lofty status, yet matched his informal and nonchalant mannerisms so well. The young Legate held a giant laughing bird in his lap, one laid out on its back and enjoying having his beak, neck, and belly stroked, and the smile on the boy’s face spoke volumes to his love of animals, or at least the cute ones. Turning in response to a Sending, the Legate’s face lit up in a smile as his Death Corps Guards parted aside, having received his orders in similar fashion. “Binesi! Good to see you again. How have you been?”

This was one of the boy’s greatest charms and most glaring flaws depending on who was speaking, his complete and utter indifference towards protocol and decorum. Even the Colonel General was not so lax when greeting his Famed Fifty, but young Rain treated Binesi like an old friend or favoured uncle, and he could not help but respond in kind. “Better than you, boy. Hear you were attacked in the city proper and came to see if my comrades and I could be of service.” Being a dyed in the wool soldier, Binesi didn’t forget to salute and bow, nor did he dare speak too informally, since this was the Legate after all, one whose strength and record of service was more than deserving of respect. The boy’s skills were nigh unfathomable now, having displayed abilities above and beyond what most Peak Experts could compare to, and while his foundation was still lacking, his public spars showed marked improvements with each and every passing day. The first time he took to the stage against Gerel, he was soundly trounced from start to finish, but now, he could at least put up a decent fight for a few exchanges. An impressive accomplishment considering even Binesi was wary of the Demon Reaper, and not just for his impressive skills in combat, but that was a matter for another day.

“I’d be a fool to turn down Immovable Binesi and his esteemed comrades of the Famed Fifty.” Finally deigning to stand and observe the formalities, the young Legate passed his bird over to Yan and strode over to greet them, shaking hands and thanking each of them for coming, as if they were honoured guests rather than borrowed guards. “You’re all familiar with Naaran here?” Rain said, as the grizzled old man emerged from Concealment behind his ward, one who served as the boy’s guard, warden, and even executioner if necessary. “He’s been gracious enough to coordinate everything with regards to my safety, so he’ll work out a schedule for everyone involved. Kuang Biao, could you go speak to my mother about arranging accommodations for our guests? Thank you.”

Though only one Death Corps guard was mentioned, the others also withdrew from the immediate area as well, and Binesi would’ve been a fool not to see their shame and reluctance. They knew they were being kept at arm’s length after the attack and they resented it even as much as they understood the reasons why, as the boy motioned for Binesi to remain behind while his comrades left with the Death Corps Guards. “So it’s true then?” Binesi asked, once he felt the Sound Barrier spring up around them. “Publicly, there isn’t much information going around, but the Colonel General tells me the attackers were...” Imperial Scions, but he couldn’t even bring himself to say it out loud.

“From the lands of the rising sun,” Rain responded, offering a wry smile for his clever turn of phrase. Perhaps the boy wasn’t as uncultured as he liked to appear, though he couldn’t fake his indifference towards the arts and theatre. Binesi still couldn’t tell the story of Rain’s trip to the opera without bursting into laughter, what with the boy legitimately falling asleep the moment the performance began, only to burst into applause after being rudely awoken by his consort, long minutes after the performance ended. It could not have gone better if he’d planned it, and knowing the boy, Binesi would put even odds on things going one way or the other, though the boy maintained his ignorance of the opera and that all his reactions had been genuine and off the cuff. A fact which only made it all the more impressive considering how neatly he handled the situation, first by playing the fool then turning tables around on his opponent in a dazzling match of wits that left the Ishin boy bleeding from a thousand metaphorical cuts. Then, to top it all off, young Rain sauntered onto stage with a shattered Core and showed off his profound understanding of the Forms, taking up his opponent’s twin weapons and performing the same movements to perfection while exposing the Painted Dancer’s strengths and weaknesses for all to hear.

Looking back on it now, that was the day young Rain won Binesi over, for he showed that he was truly a dragon among men, one who was destined to make a glorious return to the Martial Path.

Of course, the boy’s miraculous recovery and meteoric rise happened much faster than expected, not just due to his own talents, but also thanks to the support of the Medical Saint and his body tempering baths, a boon Binesi himself had experienced firsthand. He’d only just finished his round of treatments a few days ago, and he now felt stronger and faster than ever before. It wasn’t anything too significant, only a minor increase in physical ability, but he could feel his latent capabilities had risen and the pinnacle no longer so far out of reach. For years, he’d set the standard for greatness, a Martial Warrior famed not for defeating geniuses and dragons, but for standing firmly against them without being one himself, but now, he believed he might one day break through that unseen barrier and achieve greatness himself.

An opportunity which had been given to him by young Rain himself, who remembered him when doling out the exceedingly limited and secretive Medicinal treatments. There were other Warriors more deserving than Binesi, but few who were more trustworthy, or at least that’s what Baatar claimed his son said while waiting for the rest of their group to finish their treatments.

“If that’s the case,” Binesi began, resisting the urge to glance at the Death Corps Guards all around them, “Why not remove the Death Corps and replace them with more reliable protectors?”

“I can’t.” Shrugging off the embrace of a juvenile bear who was already taller than he was, young Rain patted his large pet as it pressed itself against him, which made for a strange sight. The bear should’ve easily shifted the boy aside, but he held firm against the furry mass pressed up against him with little to no effort at all. The other bear was even larger, and as it brushed past Binesi to join in on the fun, he sensed the strength and weight of the creature was formidable indeed, but young Rain played with them like they were little puppies. “Like it or not, the Death Corps are a symbol of my authority,” Rain said, lifting the larger bear with barely a grunt and tossing it through the air, only for the beast to land lightly and roll around before running back for another go. Not a difficult feat, throwing a bear like that, but even Binesi would have to put in a little effort to lift the bear without hurting it, something young Rain did effortlessly. “If I stop using the Death Corps as my guards, then everyone and their mother will know something is up. I can’t let it become known that I am at odds with the Imperial Clan, else I’ll lose the support of the people, not to mention having to deal with all the opportunistic nobles seeking to curry favour with their Imperial overlords by having me killed.”

The boy’s dismissive tone showed just how little he cared for the Imperial Clan, a sentiment many in the Saint’s Tribulations Mountains shared, including Binesi himself. They guarded their own lands and provided for themselves, so why did they need to respect an Emperor who only ever demanded coin and fealty for nothing in return? “I understand the political considerations,” Binesi began, knowing the boy valued others sharing their opinions, “But the danger the Death Corps pose cannot be ignored. What is stopping someone from ordering them to kill you outright?”

“Their Oaths.” Face pinched in bitter distaste, the young Legate shook his head and sighed. “Remember that whole fiasco with Yang Jixing? The Death Corps are forbidden from harming an Imperial Scion, a status which cannot be taken away with anything short of an Imperial Decree. Even someone with an Imperial Sigil speaking with the Emperor’s voice cannot consign an Imperial Scion to the status of common citizen, as it’s actually seen as one of the worst punishments the Emperor can hand out, as even the Death Corps are technically still Scions.” Binesi couldn’t help but roll his eyes alongside Rain, and they shared a small smile of amusement once it was done. “Anyways,” the young Legate continued, “I asked Kuang Biao, Luo-Luo, and Liu Xuande to clarify a few things about the Death Corps Oaths, so they can be trusted to some extent. Only an Imperial Scion of high peerage can interfere with their duties, and only by giving them orders that fall within a strict set of boundaries to avoid triggering their Oaths. Orders to stand idly by or let an assassin by without warning would fail since my safety is their first prerogative, but an order to close their eyes and ears while counting to a hundred would be enough to delay a Death Corps Guard’s ability to respond to any attacks. They’d still be obligated to stop anyone they notice, but mere suspicion is not enough to override a direct order.”

“And this makes you feel secure enough to put your life in their hands?”

“Yes.” Shrugging again, Rain glanced at his distant guards with pity in his eyes. “They’ve sworn loyalty to the wrong master, and they’ve no free agency anymore, but they’re Warriors still. They’ll fight and die to defend me, which is all I can ask of them. Naaran will fill you in on the other measures in place, and I have a few more tricks up my sleeve I have yet to reveal.” A mischievous grin crept across his face, one so impish and delightful Binesi might’ve mistaken the young Legate for a naughty prankster rather than the highest ranking official of the outer provinces. “Believe me, it is not pride or arrogance when I tell you that my life was in no danger from those assassins. I could’ve killed them all if I wanted to, but I was hoping to take at least one alive to interrogate.”

The woman no doubt, whose fetching likeness had long since made the rounds in certain circles alongside the location of where the assassination attempt took place, a mid-class brothel that many of Binesi’s soldiers knew well. Even with three wives and a concubine, the boy’s wandering eyes led him to find soft grass in other fields, but then again, Marshal Yuzhen let slip that Rain had been accompanied by his wife Yan, who drew the first portrait of the female assassin. Youngsters today were so wicked in their ways, but every great man had his flaws, and young Rain’s were more or less harmless for the most part. Difficult and frustrating to work with, but nothing so terrible in light of the dark vices so many Martial Warriors of the Empire shared. A brothel visit with the wife was almost tame by comparison, but still foolhardy for someone in young Rain’s position, except Binesi could not bring himself to say anything about it. How was he even supposed to phrase it? “If you fancy dipping your wick in new candle wax, perhaps you should request a special delivery rather than going out to the factory.”

... Actually not so terrible a euphemism, but Binesi’s pride would not allow it. Besides, the boy’s father would most certainly put him in his place, or if not, then the Chief Provost herself.

“So what are your plans going forward?” Unsure why he’d been asked to stay behind, Binesi asked, “Have you any need for the Colonel General’s assistance?”

“No, no, ten Peak Experts is more than enough. Overkill in fact,” Rain replied. If so, then Binesi would feel better if he sent half back to the Colonel General, who had far fewer loyal Peak Experts to call upon than Falling Rain. Hardly seemed fair given Nian Zu’s storied history and accomplishments, but such was life. People respected the Hero of the North and appreciated his efforts, but few cared enough to pledge their lives to him, not when they could earn more fame or fortune working for almost anyone else.

That being said, it was best to get this out of the way first before asking the young Legate for help on Nian Zu’s behalf. “If so, then why did you ask to speak with me?”

“I wanted to hear your personal opinion on something.” Gesturing back towards his yurt, Rain led Binesi inside where a pot of hot tea was already waiting, prepared by the lovely and lively Mei Lin who smiled ever so brightly in greeting. The girl didn’t stay long and left with all the pets in tow, leaving Binesi and young Rain to drink their tea and have their meeting in peaceful solitude. Adhering only to the barest hint of formality, the boy mitigated his rushed rudeness by pouring Binesi a cup of tea himself, though he only used one hand to do so before gently sliding the cup across the table in the same manner. At least he meant well. “You know the purpose of this expedition, I presume?” Rain asked, before his hand even left the cup much less Binesi had time to drink from it. “I’d like to hear your thoughts on the matter. Honest opinions only, and I won’t hold any of it against you.”

“It’s bold,” Binesi began, only to catch Rain’s wry smile and correct himself. “It’s... ambitious. Perhaps too ambitious. With the Imperial fleet and enough Runic Cannons, it’s possible to create a bulwark all along the coast and perhaps even make good headway inland, but the barren deserts of the Western Province are nothing to sneeze at. I’ve heard tales of experienced natives losing their way amidst those sandy dunes, wandering about in circles until their dying breath without ever knowing how close to salvation they were. The wind shifts the sands and can change the landscape in a matter of minutes, and even with locals to guide us, it’s been close to two years since they’ve seen the lay of the land, much less travelled through them.”

“But that’s not all, is it?” Raising an eyebrow in expectant question, Rain said, “Pull no punches. I’m a big boy. I can take it.”

“It’s a noble endeavour you’ve taken up,” Binesi began, still uncomfortable with being too blunt with the boy, especially in light of some of the things he’d said or thought before. “But...”

“But?”

With a heavy sigh, Binesi dropped all pretension and drained his cup in one gulp. “But I wonder if the goal will be worth the cost, assuming there is even a chance for success.” Contrary to expectations, the boy offered a half-smile and gestured for Binesi to carry on, meaning this was not the first time he’d heard this argument. “We march in, retake the province, clear it of all Defiled... and then what? We move soldiers to the broken Western Wall? Repair that? Resettle the province, the same way you resettled the new Border Wall, except at significant cost to the other three provinces? All while spending years, maybe decades running around to stamp out the inevitable Defiled outbreaks that pop up and praying a larger insurrection doesn’t reveal itself, or worse, spill out into Central? The sheer cost alone is staggering to consider, and the gains hardly seem worth it. The Western Province’s primary trade goods are precious metals, gemstones, and salt, but we can live without the first two and have alternative sources for the last.” Shrugging as he offered a silent prayer to the lost souls of the West, Binesi shook his head and concluded, “Hate to say it, but... hardly seems worth it.”

“Seems like a popular sentiment.” Drumming his fingers across the table, the young Legate sat in distracted thought. “You didn’t say anything about the purge.”

“...Does anything need to be said?” Binesi took part in one purge before, and had no desire to experience another, especially on the level of an entire province. “It needs to be done, but I can’t say I’m looking forward to it. I understand the logic though, going in and culling the population before they turn against us, but forgive me if I say I’m not looking forward to it.”

“And what if I said there would be no purge?”

So shocked by the seemingly innocuous statement, it took Binesi long seconds to process it, at which point he finally recoiled in horror. “You cannot,” he said, eyes wide in terror, unable to believe the boy would even entertain such a dangerous notion. “It would be the doom of us all. I understand you have a merciful heart, but to spare millions bearing the Defiled taint is simply foolish to the extreme. No matter what measures you take, I wager the taint will have spread far and wide through the outer provinces within a single year, and it would take a decade at most before widespread rebellion ensued, ones which will make Sanshu look like a walk in the park.”

“So even you don’t have that much faith in me, eh?” Though said in a joking manner, Rain’s disappointment showed through. “I suppose it only gets worse the further removed from me it gets. My people tell me there’s a growing sentiment of unrest spreading through the lower ranks. Any confirmation on that?”

And how. “The soldiers are... anxious about what you’ve set out to accomplish, but they’ll fight the Enemy to their last breath.” The Northerners would at least, though there was bound to be a few bad eggs in the bunch. “They won’t like it, and they’ll never stop complaining about it, but they’ll follow orders to the letter.” Whether their Officers would do the same was a different story, because even though Falling Rain was beloved by the North, the gratitude of the masses was short-lived and easily shifted.

The young Legate asked some more questions, mostly with regards to morale and the general disposition of the Northern soldiers, and eventually dismissed Binesi without revealing his true thoughts. Knowing the boy, he had a different angle in mind that no one could see, but despite Nian Zu’s reservations regarding the Western offensive, Baatar had long since convinced the Colonel General that this was the right move to make. How that was possible was beyond Binesi’s comprehension, but he was a soldier to the core and would follow his commander’s orders without hesitation, because Nian Zu, and yes, even Falling Rain, had earned that level of respect.

Five days passed without incident as Binesi settled in to guard the young Legate, who went about his days in a mundane fashion. He woke up early, tired and drained from the three wives he shared his bed with each and every night, his prodigious appetite a sure sentence to an early grave if he didn’t rein himself in soon. In the mornings, he trained and sparred, and in the afternoons, he trained some more, save for the hour or two he set aside each day to play with his pets. Sometimes he brought them to the Azure Sea, and other times he stayed in camp and rolled around with them in the grass, but as soon as he was done playing, he’d go right back to training. It wasn’t just Demonstrating the Forms or sparring either, as there were times when he’d sit down to meditate and practice his Chi skills, only to open his eyes and try them out in the physical world to varying effect. Despite having spent such a short time watching him, Binesi was impressed with the boy’s speedy progress along the Martial Dao, and he could see several skills that would come in handy on the battlefield, as young Rain was nothing if not practical.

Aside from training and playing, he made time to visit his friends, allies, and even political rivals, and several times, he sat down to question them in the same manner he’d questioned Binesi. The answers were always similar in nature, that this was a risky gambit with little to no rewards, yet even Commander General Shuai Jiao had agreed to the expedition and committed significant forces from South and Central to see it through. With so many soldiers and officers involved, the chances of sending Falling Rain out as a sacrificial goat were slim to none, as this massive army was more akin to a herd of healthy working cattle, a loss which would devastate the Empire for decades to come.

And then, the day of departure arrived as the sun rose over the horizon, and Falling Rain showed no signs of calling things off. The army gathered on the fields of SuiHua, standing at attention in formation as far as the eye could see, their tents packed and gear readied to travel west to reclaim a province. Ships and sails aplenty sat ready and waiting in the bay, not just lined up along the docks, but also beached up and down the coast to await their passengers. In an unprecedented move that made no waves whatsoever, young Rain appointed his merchant friend Cao Cuo to the newfangled rank of Quartermaster General, which gave the man the power over any and all matters with regards to supplies and transportation for the Imperial Army. Ordinarily, the higher ranking Officers would’ve kicked up a fuss regarding so lofty an appointment, especially one given to a ‘mere’ commoner, but the mousy man’s first act as Quartermaster General was to unveil his plans which would allow this massive army to embark and depart for the west in less than a single day, complete with itemized lists for every General and Field Officer outlining their personal manifests.

A feat which was far more impressive than it sounded, but any commander worth their salt understood the value of a good quartermaster and the pains of an incompetent one, so they quickly banded together to quash any and all disputes regarding the now beloved Cao Cuo’s appointment.

As such, the soldiers were all ready and waiting when the Legate appeared, Cloud-Stepping up to the top of his own bannerpole where he stood over his hare-profile banner and looked out over his army. “Good morning to you all,” he began, looking regal and at ease atop his lofty perch, dressed in his golden armour and adorned with his Spiritual Weapons. A bit too gaudy for Binesi’s tastes, but the boy wore it well, and more importantly, had proven time and time again that he could fight regardless of the silly aesthetics that so many of the Empire expected from a man of his station. “Today marks an important day in the Empire’s history, and an important day in our War against the Enemy. As some of you might have already guessed, today, we set out for the Western Province, where we will drive the Defiled out of our lands and back to whence they came.”

A small smattering of applause followed this declaration, but the suppressed sighs and discomforted shifting spoke volumes to the mood, something the young Legate was obviously prepared for. He offered no smiles or apologies however, and instead attacked the problem head on as he was wont to do. “Many of you have doubts,” he began, scanning the crowd as he looked down from above, yet somehow making it feel like he was addressing them all as equals and partners, rather than as soldiers and pawns. “I share those doubts, for how could I not? I am only human, and the task before us is staggering indeed. Humanity has struggled against the Enemy since time immemorial, and the Father’s minions are formidable foes to overcome even in the best of circumstances. This campaign will be far from it, as for the first time in living memory, we will be taking the fight to them, because never before have they achieved so much in a single lifetime.”

Pausing to let his words sink in, the Legate continued, “Think about what I just said. Never before has the Enemy achieved so much in a single lifetime. Our lifetime. Under our watch, the Defiled gathered in numbers greater than ever before to wage coordinated war against the Empire. Under our watch, the Defiled broke through into the West and took the entire province for their own. Under our watch, millions of our fellow compatriots suffer under the Defiled boot, enslaved and tormented to produce weapons which are used against us, including the so-called Chosen of Heaven, who now have amassed in numbers so great their very existence threatens the remaining outer provinces. Such is our failing, one we all share, but today, we set out to make things right.”

A terrible speech for raising morale, but the boy was not yet done, and Binesi’s stomach sank as young Rain continued to list out the Empire’s failures. “Since the start of this incursion, we have lost countless civilians, tens of thousands of soldiers, hundreds of Peak Experts, Two Colonel Generals, and one province.” Shaking his head, the Legate’s fist curled into a ball as his outrage washed over everyone present and set them to trembling in barely restrained fury. “The dead are gone and cannot be brought back, but the living can still be saved. Millions of good people are suffering under the boot of the Enemy, with countless dying each and every day, or worse, giving in to their fear, their anger, their hatred, and whatever lies the Father whispers into their ears, and I will not stand idly by when I possess the strength and means to do something about it.”

If the Legate expected sympathy and support, he would be sorely disappointed, but luckily, Binesi saw that he’d prepared himself well. “Many of you believe the western survivors are a lost cause, that we march to end their suffering through steel and fire and will leave naught but blood and ashes in our wake. You are wrong. So long as I draw breath, there will be no massed purge of the Western people, for my sword was not forged to spill the blood of innocents, nor were my skills honed to use against the children of the Mother Above.”

The silence was so sudden and oppressive that Binesi didn’t dare draw breath, for the weight of the Legate’s statement hit every listener like a hammer to the gut. The boy insinuated as much, but Binesi couldn’t believe that he would dare go through with it, especially in so open a manner. What would he do if the Disciplinary Corps insisted? Or even the Emperor Himself? “I say again,” the Legate began, raising his voice even more as his righteous indignation spread like a wave in the bay. “We march not to purge the people of the West, but to release them from their captors and help them back to their feet. There will be those who we cannot save and must put to the sword, but so long as there is room for doubt, then I will see to it that the people of the West are given the chance to overcome the trials and tribulations they endured at the hands of the Enemy.”

A chorus of outrage and disbelief rose up to greet him, and the young Legate let it continue for a long minute before raising his hands for silence, but even in so short a time, there were countless sound arguments made that defined his actions as madness, or worse. “I’ve not come to this decision lightly,” Rain said, speaking over the last few remaining grumbles before they finally died out. “But, and I say this with all the respect in my heart, I believethat every single one of you who believes that my actions will doom the Empire, are vastly overestimating the Enemy’s strength.”

Resisting the urge to palm his face, Binesi stood by and watched as Rain wrestled for control of the crowd, right up until his Aura swept out once more in a wave of oppressive authority. That was a new trick, one Binesi had never seen the boy use, and to say it was effective would be a massive understatement. Hardened Warriors froze in place at the mere touch of his oppressive Aura, one that disappeared as quickly as it arrived. Picking up as if he’d never been interrupted at all, he continued, “The general sentiment is that once an individual has caught the Father’s foul attentions, then they are lost to us forever, but you give Him too much credit. If He had this power over us, then humanity would have long since lost the War, for he could just steal away our greatest talents and turn them against us. The Traitor Bai Qi has succumbed to His lies, but this is the exception, not the rule. How many other Legends of the Empire have fallen from on high? Hardly any, and I will tell you why.” Leaning forward, the Legate drew a deep breath and said, “Because the Father. Is. Impotent.”

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Wordplay. At a time like this. And the boy seriously expected people to laugh?

Recovering from the awkward pause, the boy cleared his throat and continued, “Just as there must be Balance in all things, the Mother and Father themselves must strike a Balance. This we all know. If one acts too overtly, so too will the other, and thus, the Father Himself is no foe to be wary of. If He wants our souls, then He can only send His foul minions to claim it, to tempt and deceive us into accepting His will. The Defiled torture and torment their prisoners so that they might lose hope, for only then will they be desperate enough to accept the Father’s lies. The people of the West still live, and where there is life, there is hope still yet. Some have taken up arms against us, but they are the minority, with ten slaughtered for every one turned at best, and I believe that most will never give in to the Father’s demands, not even with their dying breath.” Glancing around, he added, “Whether that dying breath arrives at the end of an Imperial Sword, or after a long and fruitful life following this brief period of darkness.”

Smacking his fist against his chest, Falling Rain stood tall and proud as he declared, “Just as the people of the West suffered, so too did I suffer as a twelve year old boy enslaved by the traitors of the Canston Trading Group. Not only was I a slave, I was also tortured and tormented every day and night in a directed effort to turn me Defiled for their own nefarious purposes. Six months I endured, and for many years after, I suffered the aftereffects of my time there, and even now, I still bear those scars on my body, mind, and soul. They whipped and beat me, flayed my skin and tore my nails off, worked me like a dog and fed me worse. As the youngest and smallest one there, I suffered the worst treatment of all of them, for even my fellow slaves disdained me. I filled baskets with ore until my arms no longer worked, and then I’d pick them up with my feet and mouth to avoid getting beaten, but they’d beat me anyways for working too slowly.”

Stopping to catch his breath, it was clear to everyone in the audience that the Legate was uncomfortable sharing all this, but somehow, Binesi respected the boy even more for it. It wasn’t easy to speak of one’s weakness, for others would surely scorn it, but Rain shared it regardless. “And yet,” he continued once he’d recovered, speaking softly without need for emphasis, “I. Endured. I did not break, nor did any of my fellow slaves break in the time I was there. A bunch of ignorant slaves, and the Father could not break us, not even with His foul minions giving it their all, so why should we fear Him so? This is why I still have hope for the people of the West, because I believe in the indefatigable human spirit. I believe the Father is not so fearsome a foe, but a ghost who cannot touch us for fear of the Mother Above. I believe the people of the West are not beyond saving, because I believe humanity is stronger than the Enemy. We are outnumbered, but better armed, better prepared, and for once, united in purpose against them. Warriors of the North, South, and Central, I call upon you to join me in my crusade to free the West. Take up your arms, brothers and sisters of the Empire, and let us drive the Defiled out of our lands once and for all. Rise up, children of Heaven, and together, let us free our siblings from their chains of bondage and bring them back into the light of the Mother. The Father has no hold over the hearts of stalwart men and women, not when they have the support of their fellow countrymen to rely on, and together, we will overcome the trials and tribulations before us to emerge stronger than ever before!”

A cheer rose up, a small one at first, but then it rose in volume as others joined in, their faith in their Legate so unshakable that even these wild claims were believed. To his surprise, Binesi found that his voice had joined in without him even knowing it, for he was another such fool who believed.

The people of the Empire were the true Chosen of Heaven, and they would see themselves through this trial and tribulation like any other. The Father? Pei. What did they have to fear from him? Divine though He might be, this was a world for mortals, and it was mortals who would rule it.

So say the Legate Falling Rain, and so the soldiers here all believed, because how could they not believe the Mother's Chosen Son?

Chapter Meme