Pop!
An assembly of green-robed men and women materialized in a moonlit clearing. Their nigh-bestial eyes surveyed the encompassing terrain, finding clots of shaded willows pocking an oval of sodden soil.
A rich, earthy scent wafted from the blend of humus and rainwater underfoot, inducting the 5,000 newcomers to the woodlands proper.
"Abyssal Crow disciples, heed my command," roared a throaty, militant voice. An oppressive aura blanketed the clearing, drawing the crowd's gaze to a sky-bound male with shaggy blond hair and a wide-set physique. "Whether by luck or misfortune, we share the mantle of tonight's draft. As the only peak-stage Embryonic Inquisitor, I elect myself—Jnori Phoroh—commanding officer. Any objections?"
Crickets.
He nodded. "I count four late-stage, 30 mid-stage, and 60 early-stage Embryonic Inquisitors. The late-stage four, please step forward."
A quartet of hooded disciples—two men and two women—joined Jnori in the sky.
"Deacons of the Abyssal Clergy, I presume?"
They bowed.
"Good." He pointed at a flagstone structure topped with a fluttering banner. "You four will helm the banner-protection effort. Your foremost prerogative is to defend and delay would-be intruders for my—and others'—reinforcements. Clear?"
They bowed.
"Next, the mid-stagers. I want 15 patrol units and 15 infiltration units. Patrol routes are to alternate between random, zonal, and ring formations every three-incense-stick increment ..."
...
"Infiltrators should be 1/3 direct, 2/3 surreptitious. Don't underestimate non-visual distractions, such as audio, olfactory, ..."
...
"The early-stagers will act as squad leaders under the mid-stagers in a 2:1 ratio ..."
...
"Finally, the remaining 4,905—odd, one's missing." Jnori swept the audience twice over, observing no discrepancies. "No matter; the 4,904 Qi Formation disciples will form phalanxes of 20–21 in a 4:1 ratio with the mid-stagers ..."
...
"May your Culling Merit rise and your enemies fall. Dismissed!"
**
Karma sojourned through the cold, humid forest with specter-like leaps and bounds. On occasion, chimneyed houses, mud-brick courtyards, and wood-logged cabins would oversee his passage—each invariably uninhabited.
Man, did that guy love the sound of his voice.
He vaulted over an upended tree, spearing deeper and deeper into the gloomy woodlands.
And he dared threaten the sanctity of my Culling Merit? What if one of my kills were stolen? Or worse—
Karma shuddered.
Defensive duty. The horror!
Stolen novel; please report.
Whispers and the slap of boot to mud stole Karma's focus. Easing his pace to a trot, he pondered: 11 Qi Formation and one early-stage Embryonic Inquisitor. Doable, but the commotion—
Spinning toward an adjacent village settlement, Karma narrowed his lids to a feral squint.
The commotion won't be an issue.
**
Shuffle.
"Did you hear that, brothers?" Bhaya whispered to his companions, angling his chin to a cluster of timber houses.
His fellow monks, Mariniya and Preta, scowled in tune.
"Not just heard," replied Preta, "saw. Someone slipped into the leftmost building—the one with the rutted rooftop."
Bhaya bowed his head, involuntarily glancing at his Tabulator.
"There's only one," he reasoned, "and an Embryonic Inquisitor wouldn't degrade themselves to hiding from peak Qi Formation whelps. What say we three seek some good fortune?"
Preta flashed a fervent grin. "We'd be fools not to."
Turning to Mariniya, Bhaya queried expectantly, "You in?"
Mariniya frowned, bringing a slew of convincing phrases to the edge of Bhaya's lips.
Then, like snow in the summer sun, his hesitance melted into solemn vigor. "Let's do it."
Acting on their consensus, they silently approached the dilapidated facade of a two-story mansion.
**
Creeaak.
The trio skulked into a dust-strewn foyer, their heads on a swivel. Moonlight spilled through the ramshackle walls, casting their four prowling shadows across the pitted floors.
Wait, four?
Wheeling, Bhaya lofted a clenched fist, his pinpoint pupils settling on empty air.
"What are you doing!?" hissed Preta, startling Bhaya from his stupor.
"I ... never mind. Let's keep moving," he mumbled with stooped shoulders, rejoining Preta in their two-man hunt.
How did I mistake two shadows for three? Strange ...
Thud.
Their necks snapped backward; both glared up to a segment of fluted ceiling.
"Stairs," mouthed Bhaya, pointing to a veneered stairwell. "Take my rear."
Preta nodded curtly.
...
Following a soundless climb, they were greeted by an oblong corridor.
Tap.
Tap.
A bipedal figure wreathed in darkness rounded the opposite corner.
"Halt!" shouted Bhaya, brandishing a brass dagger.
Preta's moistened palm clamped over his mouth. "Shh!"
Wrenching the hand from his lips, Bhaya growled, "The enem—"
Drip.
Drip.
He froze.
Peeking at his pallid grip about Preta's wrist, his gaze deliberately scoured further down its length.
Forearm, elbow, and—
And nothing.
His grip slackened, surrendering his sect brother's bloody arm to the murky maw below. Whirling, his stare pierced the corridor's end.
Empty.
A sudden warmth draped across his neck and shoulders.
He stiffened.
His limbs refused his call—as if encased in an amber sheath.
He wanted to scream.
Desperately.
Couldn't.
His neck, betraying his sobbing pleas, grated leftward. There, Bhaya found the stranger whose arm rested upon his nape like Preta usually—
Like Preta had before ...
Before ...
"Sorry about your friends," they—he consoled.
Friends? Plural?
"Ah, don't worry," he muttered, the moonlight shining on his... face? "You'll be together shortly."
The moon's glow disappeared.
As did the warmth.
Everything tingles. It's kind of nice, actually.
**
Anlîthëma glowered at the puddle of man-turned-muck from its spatial pouch. "Why the needless brutality? At the very least, you could've left him a complete corpse."
"Hm? I severed his nerves all at once, thus ensuring the most painless of deaths. I thought it was everyone's dream to die peacefully, no?"
"... I don't know how to respond to that."
Shrugging, Karma stepped over the late monk's pooling entrails. Three down, nine to go.
**
Monk Anyat waved over his brother, Karoti, and whispered, "I saw a lone Qi Formation disciple scurry into that mansion. Quick, let's go! Before the others find out!"
...
Tap.
Tap.
"Halt!"
"Shh!"
Splat.
Splat.
"Seven."
**
"Brothers, gather around—I have exciting news!"
...
Splat.
Splat.
Splat.
"Four."
**
"Keep this quiet, but in that mansion, there's ..."
...
Splat.
Splat.
"Two."
**
Splat.
"One."
How exciting! My first authentic duel with an Embryonic Inquisitor, and I'm getting paid for the effort! Oh, that reminds me.
----------------------------------------
Fourth Culling Tabulator [Bound]
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Personal
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Name: ???
Culling Merit: 11
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Event
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Time: Hour of the Rooster
Location: Mu Piao Woodlands
Opponent: Cittamātra Sect
Format: Banner Capture/Protection
Teleportation(Y/N): Y
----------------------------------------