Savage Divinity

Every second counted in a battle of attrition and every spear a welcome addition here in Meng Sha, but Mila was reluctant to join the fight until she was absolutely convinced Papa wasn’t going to charge headlong into the fight as soon as her back was turned.

While her fears might seem drastic to some, she knew her Papa was liable to do as he pleased, regardless of the consequences and repercussions. Li-Li was a sweet and trusting daughter who thought Papa was a saint who would do no wrong, but Mila knew better. He was a good man and a loving husband and father, but he was still a man. This meant he had his ‘manly’ pride, which for some reason meant he had to act out in the stupidest ways possible from time to time as a show of masculinity. Coming home drunk as a fish in a barrel of wine was one thing, but this was Papa’s life they were talking about, so Mila had to make sure he would behave. Having yet to wholly recover from his injuries, he was a prime target for the Enemy elites, and she could never live with herself if he died due to the wounds he took defending her.

That was the real reason Mila was so loath to join the fight, because she was afraid to put Papa in a position to risk his life again. He would do it in a heartbeat, trade his life for hers and call it a bargain well struck, a prospect which terrified Mila to no end. He thought it a heroic sacrifice, but it would be a nightmare come true for her, because she loved her Papa so and could never forgive herself if she was the cause of his death. He didn’t see things that way, so she had to make sure Papa would stay put, and she would do so by any means necessary. “If I hear about you taking part in the battle today,” she began, gazing up at him with the most threatening glare her tear-stained eyes would allow, “I’ll tell Mama what really happened to her prized Osmanthus tree.”

“Now now, let’s not be sayin’ anything yer gonna regret,” Papa whispered, his eyes going wide with panic as he leaned in and scanned the surroundings for eavesdroppers. “That was ages ago, ancient history even, so why dig all that up?”

“I’ll do it,” Mila replied, wishing she would stop crying so she could look him in the eyes and show him that she meant it. “And I’ll tell her about the hidden stash you keep under the floorboards of your forge too, and the flirty butcher who slips you fatty cuts of meat which you cook in the forge.”

“Flirty? Why I never. Little Chi is just a kind soul with a smile fer all her customers, one who understands that sometimes a man needs a little extra grease in his gullet.”

“Well, try me and we’ll let Mama be the judge of that.” Sniffling as she rubbed her eyes, Mila hiccuped and pushed Guai-Guai into Papa’s arms. “Here, hold him,” she said, smoothing out the red panda’s whiskers as he grunted in quiet protest. “He’s young and scared, so you need to keep him safe and away from all the noise and bloodshed. You can’t give him to anyone else either, because he’s shy and doesn’t like strangers.” He didn’t much like Papa either, seeing how he kept squirming about, but Mila wasn’t giving either of them much choice. “And don’t feed him any fruit or Spiritual Plants. He’s getting too fat and round from lying around all day.”

Sighing in defeat, Papa nodded like a chicken pecking grains and said, “Yes, yes, no fruit or Spiritual Plants. Just don’t tell yer Mama about the tree or fatty meats, yea?”

“So long as you stay put.” Doing her best to put on a brave face, Mila’s courage fled as she looked her tired, weary Papa in the eyes, and she threw herself into his embrace. “And stay safe, okay Papa?”

Wrapping her in a one armed hug, Papa squeezed her tight and just held her close for several seconds without speaking. Taking a deep breath before breaking the silence, he rumbled, “Sorry fer scarin’ ye lass. I just figured ye’d handle it fine and well, seein’ how at ease ye are with yer Mama fightin’ all the time.”

“But that’s Mama,” Mila whispered in reply, burying her face in Papa’s shoulder. “She’s the Chief Provost with all the heroic war stories. You’re Papa, the blacksmith who stays home to drink and play chess. You’re not supposed to go out and risk your life, especially not to save mine.”

“That’s where yer wrong, girlie.” Lifting her chin so she was looking him in the eye, Papa smiled and said, “It’s every father’s job to do everything they can to keep their daughters safe and sound.” Holding up a hand to forestall her arguments, he continued, “I know, I know. I’ll stay here where it’s safe and sound, don’t ye worry about a thing. You just be careful out there. Shield up and spear ready, got it?”

“Got it Papa.” Glancing over at her sleeping husband, Mila knew she’d wasted enough time as it was already, and yet she couldn’t help but wander over to bid him farewell. Both arms were resting on his belly and strapped down with padded restraints to keep them from flopping about, and it was the same with his feet, knees, shoulders, and head. A ridiculous sight to be sure, and yet all she could see was her handsome husband resting from his ordeals as she slipped her hand into his. Sweet Lin-Lin was right there with him, kneeling on the docks with her head resting on his chest as if trying to catch up on some much needed sleep, even though she’d been napping even more than usual of late. Mila thought it might be because she missed Rain more than she let on, but Lin-Lin hardly seemed put off when she was awake, and in fact seemed more lively and spirited than ever.

Coming to as Mila knelt down beside her, Lin-Lin hid a dainty yawn in Rain’s chest before flashing her charming smile, as sweet and innocent as always. “Hi Mi-Mi,” she chimed, without lifting her head from Rain’s chest, blinking sleepily until the sounds of battle pierced through the haze of lethargy and brought her back to reality. Furrowing her brow in concern, Lin-Lin sat up and absently gathered Tawny One into her arms, the sweet rabbit forlorn over having been separated from Blackjack nestled in between Lin-Lin’s ears. “Are you leaving to go fight?”

Mila nodded, and had nothing else to add, so she fell silent and leaned onto her best friend in search of solace and comfort. For several long seconds, Lin-Lin merely cuddled in close, and the two of them absently acknowledged the animals coming over to greet them. The bears, wildcats, and rabbits were all gathered in close, scared by the unfamiliar chaos and scent of blood in air, so Mila did her best to reassure them. There were a few exceptions who didn’t need any comforting, like Mama Bun, who was snoring fitfully at Rain’s side with her head pressed under his chin, or Blackjack perched between Lin-Lin’s ears as always. Then there was Rakky, seated proudly on the docks with an indifferent air as he watched the proceedings, though his lashing tail gave away his concern and agitation. Lastly was sweet and dutiful Ping Ping standing stoic guard over the rest, placing her body between the Defiled and her furry friends in what Rain liked to call ‘Siege mode’. Legs posted, neck stretched, and beak open while scanning her surroundings for threats, ready to fire off a water ball at a moment’s notice. Sweet and affable though she might be, Ping Ping knew how to defend herself against would-be hunters and assailants, but it pained Mila to think about how the gentle girl might’ve come by this hard-learned lesson.

Stretching over to pat her head, Mila whispered, “Don’t you worry about a thing, Ping Ping. Papa and the others will keep you safe.” So long as he didn’t go out looking for trouble at least, but Mila could hardly blame him for fighting if trouble came looking for him.

As she moved to stand and leave for battle, Mila felt a tug at her sleeve and turned to find Lin-Lin looking more sombre and serious than ever before seen. “...Do you have to go?” the sweet girl asked, and for a moment, Mila was at a loss for words. Though Lin-Lin was far from ignorant and knew well the dangers of war, she’d never shown any sign of fear or concern beyond the usual. It was almost as if she simply assumed the people she loved would always return unharmed, and truth be told, Mila had been the same way regarding Mama until just recently. Though she knew there was always a chance Mama might not return from battle, it’d always seemed like such a remote possibility that it wasn’t worth worrying about, like an inevitable earthquake or forest fire that might not come for years, decades, or even centuries later.

Except now, in light of Papa’s near death at the hands of the Exile Half-Demon, Mila had no choice but to accept that the death of her parents was a very real possibility, the very thought of which left her frozen with fear. It seemed like sweet Lin-Lin was facing those same fears, perhaps because Rain still had yet to wake. Reaching over to hug her sister-wife close, Mila held Lin-Lin tight and said, “Yes. I need to go.” And it was the truth, because she realized she was looking for an excuse to stay and keep an eye on Papa, because she was terrified he’d up and die if she ever took her eyes off him. There was also the fact that Papa wouldn’t send her away if he didn’t truly think her help was needed, which meant the situation was dire indeed, all of which needn’t be said because Lin-Lin already knew the answer before even asking her question.

“Okay Mi-Mi,” the half-hare replied, so wistful Mila wanted to stay just to cheer her up. Glancing around, she asked, “Did Yan-Yan and Li-Li leave too?” Mila nodded, though she was rather concerned given how this meant Lin-Lin had been sleeping the entire time, but this was a discussion which could wait, while the battle would not. Huffing a small sigh, Lin-Lin puffed her cheeks and hugged Mila tight before whispering, “Just remember. If things get too scary or difficult, all you need to do is survive. There will always be taller shoulders ready to hold up the Heavens, so don’t be too proud to run, ya?”

Smiling because she didn’t really have any answer, Mila simply nodded and hugged Lin-Lin back. The poor girl was so strong, having kept her chin up and spirits high all this time, but who knew how much of it was an act to conceal her inner struggles? They would talk more when she returned, but for now, Mila had to focus on the battle ahead, so she soon broke off the hug and bid Lin-Lin farewell. Finally ready to join the fight, she turned to Papa and asked, “So where do you think I should go?”

Unable to Scry on the battle herself, Mila only had a passing understanding of how the battle was playing out. There was no point trying to contact the commander, one OuYang Min Jun, since Papa’s last attempt to make contact with the command cadre had resulted in a personal Sending from the commander himself, asking if Papa had an army of Peak Experts hiding in the wings. After Papa told him the truth, that most of the People’s Peak Experts were in Shi Bei alongside the bulk of the Northern forces, Commander Min Jun cut off all communication and ignored any further Sendings. The man seemed woefully unqualified to hold Meng Sha, but Mama, Baatar, Rain, and Nian Zu had all been absent from harbour fort when the decision was made and didn’t know just how inept the old codger truly was. Then again, Mila didn’t figure it out until a week after returning to Meng Sha and seeing just how sloppy the shift changes and schedules were being handled, but she thought little of it given the circumstances at the time. The Enemy was going all out with their efforts to retake Shi Bei and Mama needed all the support she could get, so it didn’t seem prudent to send word asking her to dispatch someone useful to guard Meng Sha. Then again, Commander Min Jun couldn’t be faulted for wanting to know about all the troops at his disposal, and his silence might well stem from arrogance and an unwillingness to share his plans with a civilian. That being said, from what Mila could see, he wasn’t doing much commanding at all, but there also wasn’t much which needed doing. The Enemy was attacking in full force on all fronts, so the only thing the Imperial Army could do was throw everything they had into the fight and pray their defences were enough to weather the storm.

“You should go where you’ll shine the brightest, lass.” Pointing at the southern front bordering the Azure Sea, Papa directed Mila’s attention to where the fighting was hottest. Although the fighting on top of the battlements was populated by armoured elites of the Mataram Clan, their disciplined assault paled in comparison to the unending waves of tribal Defiled surging in from both sides. The fortifications in Meng Sha were oddly designed, in that there were really only three sides to the fort with the back of the ‘fort’ left completely open and exposed, but the walls extended far enough into the water that one couldn’t simply stroll around the defences with impunity. That being said, the tribal Defiled cared nothing for the turbulent waves threatening to pull them down into the sea’s dark embrace or the hungry carnivorous creatures lurking within. Drunk in a haze of fury and bloodlust, they charged into the water with no regard for their personal safety and pressed on despite taking massive casualties from the Irregulars stationed upon the sea walls, the ships guarding the harbour, and inside the fortress itself. Even from so great a distance, Mila could see the Defiled dying in droves to the storm of bolts raining down on them from overhead, to say nothing of those lost to the sea itself, yet still they pushed on without fear. Less than a tenth of those attempting to swim around the sea wall were able to make it around to dry land, yet even that much was enough to sorely test the soldiers stationed there to defend the Irregulars.

Mila took in all this and more as she rode Zabu towards the battle with her escorts in tow, though she had no idea who they were. Unlike Tenjin and Tursinai who behaved more like friends and comrades, Yaruq treated her duty with the utmost gravity and preferred guarding from the shadows instead. There were benefits and downsides to both approaches, but Mila wasn’t one to tell Yaruq how to go about her business, even if she missed having Tursinai’s bright and cheery company. She wasn’t even sure if the silly woman was here by her side or off guarding Li-Li instead, but regardless of who her protectors might be, it didn’t matter so long as they were strong enough to make Papa keep his promise to stay out of the fight.

From an outsider’s perspective, Mila’s actions probably seemed foolish to the extreme, a single lone rider making her way towards the battlefield without orders or support, but even though Papa was no general, he knew his daughters better than anyone. Li-Li’s presence on the battlements would go a long way towards evening the odds, for she excelled as a duellist above all else. As for Mila, even though she was a fair duellist herself, her true strength lay in a different area, one that was less pleasant to the ear.

To put in it the simplest terms possible, Mila was best suited towards bullying the weak, meaning these crazed, tribal Defiled were the perfect specimens to showcase her skills.

Up close, the situation along the shoreline was even more dire than she’d expected, for commander Min Jun had yet to dispatch any reinforcements to help guard the Irregulars. A costly mistake if not for Mila’s timely arrival, for the Defiled were on the cusp of breaking through the Imperial lines where they would have free reign to wreak havoc on the crossbow-wielding commoners. A reactive commander then, one who solved problems as they presented themselves. Mama had a saying about these sorts of commanders, one she only shared because she thought Mila was out of earshot, but the long and short of it was that they were always one step short of disaster. A few minutes later and the entire southern front might well have been overrun, leaving Min Jun scrambling to recover before the Defiled tribesmen slaughtered the Irregulars to the last, but now that Mila had arrived, she alone would be enough to turn the tides. “This is Senior Captain Sumila, here to lend aid to the battle.” Seeing as she had no idea who was commanding here, she didn’t know who to Send to and couldn’t just ride up and seize command, but she didn’t want to waste time reporting for duty just to have some stuck up noble ignore her. Perhaps it was her own arrogance showing itself now, but at least she was deserving of her pride, a fact she would prove with her own actions shortly. “I humbly request your support in clearing the beach of the Defiled.”

Ignoring the multitude of Sendings demanding all sorts of nonsense she didn’t care to deal with, Mila holstered her spear and drew Paragon with a grin. It always gave her an immense sense of satisfaction to unfurl her greatest work, one only made possible by Divine Intervention. A flick of her wrist and a working of Chi made it go from innocuous metal wand to proper heavy cane, and then a second flick caused it to extend into a proper lance, one comprised of eight-hundred and eight individually crafted segments and measured a full two-hundred and twenty centimetres long in total. Keeping Papa’s advice in mind, Mila raised her shield and guided Zabu to approach the Defiled horde from the right, so that she could keep her shield between her body and the Enemy at all times, and then she was ready to unleash hell.

These actions took some time to describe, but Zabu was a king among quins and covered the distance in mere seconds as Mila waited until the last moment to act. Raising Paragon high into the air, she channelled a burst of Chi into her weapon and brought it around overhead, unveiling its fourth and final form as a long and sinuous bladed whip held together with the finest of metal threads. Immediately, she sensed that the Defiled had marked her as a Warrior to be wary of, but it was too little too late, for she was already upon them in a spray of blood. Paragon sang a song of steel and death as its Honed segments carved clean through flesh and bone with every pass, propelled by Reinforced muscle and Amplified flicks which required most of Mila’s concentration to pull off. Tribesmen screamed as they died in droves while Zabu brought her towards the thickest parts of the crowd, the clever quin already well used to Mila’s fighting style and adjusting his speed and actions accordingly. When Paragon swung low through the Enemy, Zabu pounced forward to ensure the weapon struck as many Defiled as possible, and when the chain sailed high overhead, he slowed to give Mila time to bring her weapon about. This was not the product of training or practice, but just something Zabu picked up on his own after carrying her into battle a handful of times. No doubt he noticed the timing of her attacks and adjusted accordingly to keep himself safe, but the fact that he was able to make decisions like this on his own without any input from Mila showcased just why he was a superior battle mount to affable Atir. Besides, the new quin mother was so enamoured with her pups and husband that she was always reluctant to part with them, so how could Mila bear to force them apart? On the other hand, while Zabu still groomed his adolescent pups whenever they met, he was all too happy to leave them with the safety of the pack, no doubt seeing battle duty as hunting and in no rush to teach his beloved pups the tricks of his dangerous trade just yet.

It remained to be seen if Zabu’s pups had these same killer instincts, but the ranking Officer on the southern front clearly did not. Mila’s single woman charge had come and gone, clearing the foremost ranks of Defiled from the beach aside from a few stragglers who somehow managed to avoid death, but the Imperial soldiers had yet to react in any meaningful manner. A shame she couldn’t just seize command by virtue of her heroics, but doing so could see her censured for breaking the chain of command which could only end in scandal for Mama and Rain both. Unfortunately, it was too risky for her to turn Zabu about and charge back along the same route without support. The first pass had taken the Enemy by surprise, but they would be ready the second time around, and they would be advancing upon her from the right so her shield would not be in position to defend her. If she were to circle around the back of the Imperials, she might well be waylaid by the commander or run headlong into a trap set by the Enemy, to say nothing of how she would be giving up all the momentum she’d built up for her allies, meaning there were no good options left to her.

Well, not entirely...

Hopping up to stand on Zabu’s back, turned to face the Enemy before going down to one knee. Not the best posture to fight in, but it was the best she could do, and with one foot hooked under the strap of Zabu’s harness, she figured it was a stable enough stance to fight in. Directing the fierce quin back the way they came, Mila set Paragon to singing once more as she struggled to keep her balance atop Zabu. Firing a bow from this stance was easy enough, because there were no variables to account for. She knew when to brace to draw the bow back and when to shift her weight to account for the recoil on release, the timings hammered home over the course of thousands upon thousands of repetitions, but in close combat, matters were not so simple. For every body Paragon’s Honed segments passed through, Mila had to exert that much more force to deal with the resistance and friction incurred, to say nothing of the more enterprising foes who tried to block, parry, or even trap her weapon with their own. From the outside, it seemed like she was swinging her whip-like weapon in circles overhead, but in reality, she was acting and reacting to countless minute changes and obstacles in her path.

All of which left her with the bare minimum of focus left to deal with unexpected surprises, which was why she preferred to do this with Tenjin and Tursinai in plain view. Not only could the latter clean up the stragglers Mila missed, Tenjin was like an ever-vigilant hawk standing guard with his twin blades and piercing daggers that rarely missed their targets. Bereft of their protection, or really any sort of support at all, she felt open and exposed as she charged the Enemy lines once again, but she did so regardless of the risks because the benefits outweighed the costs. Besides, the Imperial soldiers were so close by, they were sure to advance and support her once their commander got his head on right. Her efforts had given him a chance to retake the beach and drive the Enemy back into the Azure Sea, where they would be helpless to defend themselves from the storm of bolts still raining down from overhead, a win-win situation for everyone involved apart from the Defiled.

And thankfully, it only took a few seconds more before said commander figured this out as well and set his soldiers into motion, which really lent credence to the idiom, ‘One need not fear a powerful foe, only be wary of idiot allies’.

Upon hearing Imperial boots marching forwards in the sand, Mila allowed herself to relax ever so slightly at the prospect of allies supporting her flanks. In what was almost certainly a coincidence, the Enemy also chose this time to launch their counter-attack, which was fortuitous for them and near-disastrous for her. Three Wraiths appeared before her with daggers plunging towards exposed flesh, one targeting her head, another her left arm, and the last aiming at Zabu’s broad flank. Thankfully, the battle-trained quin was far more vigilant than his silly rider and immediately bolted towards his allies, which caught Wraith, Imperial, and rider alike completely off-guard. Chi raced through Mila’s body as she strove to Stabilize her footing and keep her from toppling over, her centre of balance shifting and swaying to match Zabu’s momentum and acceleration. The Imperials scattered before them, which was hardly ideal given the circumstances, but thankfully they weren’t so foolish as to lash out in surprise. As for the Wraiths, they recovered quickly enough and each threw a single obsidian dagger, the wicked weapons drinking in the sunlight as they lanced towards Zabu’s hindquarters, a desperate attempt from the would-be assassins to keep her from getting away.

A year ago, Mila had lacked the confidence to bring Paragon out in a spar, much less utilize it on the field of battle. Six months ago, she would have had no option but to watch as these projectiles hurled through the air and pray their aim was not true. Today, however, was a different story, for she had spent the last two years mastering how to best utilize her unique weapon and all its wondrous transformations, with help from some of the greatest sparring partners and teachers one could ask for. Mama, Papa, Alsantset, Rain, Tursinai, and Yaruq were the most notable contributors, but Mila could not overlook two people whose assistance was pivotal to her development, no matter how much she wished it were otherwise. Ryo Da’in and her mother Jeong Hyo Lynn had both spent a great deal of time sparring and guiding her in Paragon’s use, as the former saw it as an interesting diversion from the endless swordsmen she usually sparred with, while the latter treated it like an intellectual puzzle to solve for fun.

Without them, Mila would’ve never realized just how versatile Paragon truly was, as she demonstrated now with a flick of her wrist and an exertion of Chi meant to retract the eight-hundred and eight segments back into the collapsible shaft. Reeling in faster than the daggers flew through the air, Mila waited until her weapon was half withdrawn before whipping her arm about in a circle, setting the remaining length of chain into a spiralling shield that Deflected the daggers aside. The Wraiths were not idle while all this took place however, charging headlong after Zabu without heed for their own safety, and to Mila’s surprise, they moved with a speed second only to Cloud-Stepping Peak Experts and covered the distance between them in the blink of an eye. Gathering their strength for one final jump, they pounced upon Mila with a single dagger each, their dark eyes glowing and smiles ugly to behold as they saw success well within reach. As a chain whip, Paragon was formidable indeed, but in the wake of her defensive maneuver, the bladed segments were wholly retracted and safely tucked away leaving it as little more than a cane. With her spear still holstered in Zabu’s harness, the Wraiths believed that only option left to Mila was to hide behind her shield, but how could she block three attacks at once?

She couldn’t, not spread out as they were, but the Wraiths had overlooked one vital detail. Even as a cane, Paragon was still a formidable weapon in Mila’s hand, else how could it be worthy of its name?

While it was true the bladed sections were all compressed and hidden away, this also meant the full weight of the weapon had been condensed into a length of metal exactly ninety centimetres long and about as thick as her thumb. Cane though it might be, it was heavier than most maces and easier to wield due to its slender shape, and Mila was happy to demonstrate this fact for the overconfident Wraiths before her. Brandishing the cane like a sword, she demonstrated Tiger Swipes the Rushes and broke the closest Wraith’s wrist with a most satisfying crack that set Paragon’s dense frame to humming. Small wonder Song favoured this Movement as she did, for it possessed speed, power, and lethality aplenty, but Mila was not yet done. Paragon’s pitch swelled as she followed through with Oriole’s Fluttering Raindrops, twirling it about in one hand just as she’d seen Papa do a thousand times before, a most impressive flourish that was functional to boot. Metal chimed as she smashed both remaining Wraith daggers aside, the first clean out of her opponent’s hand, but her second foe was made of sterner stuff. Leaping to one side to match the arc of her blow, the pale Defiled shadow grit his teeth and spun in place to avoid the full force of her counter, and she had to admit she was impressed with the speed and grace of his reaction.

That was it, however, for what came next had been forever ingrained into her memory so many years ago, when Papa lost his temper and killed a young Warrant Officer in Shen Huo for threatening to enslave and rape her.

Descending with a keening warble and the force of a hammer, Paragon pulped the Wraith’s head like a rotten melon as Mila executed Standing Fury, or as Rain liked to call it, the patented ‘Papa Smash’. The Wraith’s body collapsed under the weight of her attack, and she used the momentum to shift back into a seated position on Zabu’s back as the quin turned to face his foes. Yet another decision made by the clever beast, for he saw his pursuers had fallen behind and sensed Mila’s confidence to end this. Cheeks aching as she flashed a grin of pure delight, she gave Zabu’s midsection a light squeeze with her calves and set him to pouncing upon the closer of the two remaining Wraiths. Holding the cane out like a spear, she cackled as she activated Paragon once more to turn it from cane into bladed lance again, the segments shooting out faster than the eye could follow and piercing clean through her target’s heart before he could even blink, much less defend against her charge. This was the exact reason why she named her weapon so, for Paragon could be used at almost any range and in any position, so long as she possessed the requisite skill to wield it as she envisioned.

It would probably be years, or even decades before she felt confident enough to say that she’d mastered Paragon in all its forms, but it would be well worth the effort. Raw strength was meaningless without the skill and ability to properly utilize it, as evidenced by Mila’s inability to put up a fight against anyone even slightly stronger than she was. Paragon was the answer to a dilemma she hadn’t even known would plague her when she crafted it, for it forced her to do more than rely on brute strength to overcome her foes. That being said, when properly utilized alongside with her natural brawn, she would be all but unstoppable, hence why she named it so.

Others might think her arrogant, but as Mila so ably demonstrated here today, at least she had the qualifications to behave in so domineering a manner

Carving her way out of the second Wraith’s chest, she activated Paragon once again to transform it back into a chain whip, which she promptly sent whirling towards the last surviving Wraith in the same motion. So shocked by the sudden reversal of fortune, he was unable to muster a defence as the chain smashed clean through his chest and threw his corpse a dozen metres through the air, but Mila barely gave him a second glance as Zabu carried her into battle once again. With the Imperial soldiers supporting her, they pushed the Enemy back into the sea and raised a rousing cheer as they secured the beach, for now they could simply sit here and pick off the stragglers one by one as they emerged from the turbulent sea.

Having learned her lesson well, Mila did not let her guard down and set Zabu to patrolling up and down the shore line. The Enemy continued to stream into the fortress, but in drips and drabs that were no match for the ready and waiting soldiers, nor was she inclined to give the Enemy a chance to regain a foothold on the beach itself. Every now and then, she directed Zabu into the crowd of soldiers so as to keep her route from growing too predictable, weaving in and out of battle as she pleased and unleashing hell whenever a suitable target presented itself. As an added bonus, staying in constant motion gave her an excuse to avoid stopping to speak with the officer in command, who thankfully had decided it would be best to pretend he’d been working with her this whole time rather than publicly argue with the Warrior who pulled his ass out of the fire and won over the hearts of his soldiers.

Soon, the trickle of Defiled slowed to a crawl, though Mila could still hear the battle going in full force atop the wall. Oddly enough, she thought she could also hear the sound of Li-Li reciting the Classics of Poetry in her tranquil and emotionless manner, which was very different from Fung’s passionate renditions filled with waving arms and nonsensical gestures. Li-Li’s poetry readings were more formal and aloof, which lent weight to the words and lyrical rhythm of the prose itself, and Mila found that she much preferred her sister’s style to anything Fung presented. That being said, why would she be reciting poetry in battle again? Li-Li had done so before, supposedly to help clear her thoughts and focus her mind, so if she was doing it here and now, then there was a good chance she’d encountered a formidable foe indeed.

No matter though. Unlike Mila, Li-Li was fighting alongside soldiers trained by Rain himself, so while they were far from the finest Warriors in all the Empire, they would have her back and support her no matter how poorly the odds were stacked against them.

Something Mila couldn’t count on here, a thought which flashed through her mind as her world exploded into a searing blaze of heat and light. Raising her shield on reflex, she knew it would not be enough, because even though she was resilient enough to endure this attack, she knew poor Zabu would not make it out alive, which was absolutely unacceptable. Though Rain clearly favoured Mafu over the less affectionate Zabu, he still loved all his pets and would be inconsolable if one of them died, and Mila refused to be the reason for his sorrow. Had this been some fiery projectile launched by an Enemy war machine, there was little she could do besides accept her fate, but she knew without knowing how that she was not embroiled in a true blaze of fire and heat, but merely a working of Chi mimicking the properties of Earth’s Fire.

Which meant she could counter it with her own Blessing, for what blaze could ever hold a candle to the radiance of the Sun?

Before the sudden blaze could singe a hair on her head, an incandescent glow billowed out from Mila’s Core to negate heat and flame alike. Zabu’s panicked shriek stopped short as the clever quin realized he was no longer in danger, but he was still too spooked to act just yet. A good thing too, for this exchange was far from over as Mila intended to pay her foe back in full. Though his attack was formidable indeed, it was a short-lived conflagration meant to raise the temperature in the area to a staggering degree, but only for a fraction of a moment. In contrast, Mila’s response had been to unleash a steady and constant source of Radiant Chi, one which billowed out from her body and bombarded everyone and everything in her surroundings to strip away their Concealment and protections.

There he stood, so ugly and misshapen with his half-melted body and face frozen in a wretched cry for help, a twisted, molten remnant of what he once was yet still wholly unmistakable in presence as his wicked metallic talons glimmered in the light. Slouched and misshapen, the Demon that had once been Gen was unimpressive at first glance, a lanky, wounded creature that was easily overshadowed by the Father’s more monstrous miscreations, but a more discerning Warrior would note the power radiating from its wiry frame. Hopping off of Zabu’s back, Mila put Paragon away and drew her spear instead, for it was far more familiar in hand. The Imperial soldiers withdrew without need for orders once they saw they were outclassed, leaving Mila and the Demon Gen alone on the beach. Mila radiated luminescence as she advanced upon her foe, and Gen glimmered with a dark and unholy heat as he readied to unleash the power of his Blessing in a decisive blow.

Shield raised and spear readied, Mila took a moment to gaze upon the creature that caused her loved ones so much pain and anguish. It was Gen’s fault Rain returned from Sanshu a half-broken man. It was Gen who led the Firebrands to the city, which led to Huushal losing his Uncle Kalil in battle. It was Gen who turned Sanshu upside down in his foolish bid to prove himself better than Rain, ruining countless lives in the process. It was Gen who refused to die when Li-Li’s sabre struck him down, shattering her Core and causing her to suffer so much pain.

For these crimes and more, Gen was deserving of death, but in truth, Mila had a different reason to kill him today, one far more personal and petty. This was the man who burned half her face and ruined her hair in Sinuji, forcing her to show Rain an ugly, half-healed face for so many weeks until her skin and hair grew back. Though seemingly a minor crime in the grand scheme of things, Mila’s maidenly heart could never forget just how disgusting and self-conscious her wounded appearance made her feel at a time when she had yet to truly come into her own, so today, she would exact vengeance for his crimes with interest.

There were no words needed as she charged into the fray, for words were wasted on a Demon, but for some reason, as she marched into battle and delivered the first blow, Mila could not help but think back to Lin-Lin’s warning.

“If things get too scary or difficult, all you need to do is survive.”

The half-hare had always had her secrets, and considering everything Mila had learned in recent months, there was clearly more to Lin-Lin than meets the eye, but surely even she couldn’t have foreseen this encounter, could she?

A most distressing thought, one Mila could ill-afford at the moment, so she cleared her mind and gave herself over to the fight. Victory or defeat, only time would tell, but if she lost, it would not be because she didn’t give it her all.

Chapter Meme