“Fool! Why haven’t you responded yet? Hurry and thank the-”

“Be proud boy, straighten up and show these fools what a true warr-”

“Salute and bow, but keep your head lowered. Then thank the legate and say ‘this lowly servant dare not-’”

“Hmph. Don’t think this decree means you can stand tall and -”

It takes all my focus and willpower to drone out the chorus of Sendings. With Yuzhen, Akanai, Baatar and Nian Zu all shouting directly into my brain, I’m inundated by commands, advice, compliments, and reprimands from the well-meaning elders. To make matters worse, after parsing through their messages, I discover none of their advice matches up, leaving me stuck in a precarious situation. Do I follow Nian Zu’s command and happily accept my ‘promotion’ to turtle chaperon, or should I listen to Yuzhen and graciously reject by feigning modesty? Meanwhile, Akanai is understandably trying to keep the attention from going to my head, while Baatar wants me to stand tall and be proud.

What do?

There’s no right answer here. There’s no winning, not for poor old me caught in a four-way tug of war.

Thankfully, the Legate’s attention is elsewhere as he scans the crowd of displeased nobles and officials. I'm a little miffed at the dude. I figured if I kept my head down and mouth shut, I might live long enough to die fighting the Defiled. Judging by the vast array of murderous glares directed towards me, the Legate’s dual decrees have placed me on the path towards a different bad end. With his hand resting on my shoulder, we must look like the best of friends, a situation which they find upsetting.

Ugh. Politics.

I don’t know why the Legate is acting so friendly, but despite his youthful good looks, noble bearing, and benevolent disposition, I don’t trust him any farther than I can throw him. Well, that’s not right, I’m strong enough to throw him across the room but I don’t trust him one bit. It’s not because I’ve seen through his motives or sensed something off about him, nor am I jealous of how amazing he looks in his silken gold robes and fancy, beaded hair-hat. I don’t trust him for one reason and one reason only.

Ping-Ping doesn’t like him.

Fearsome armoured dinosaur she may be, Ping-Ping is extremely laid back. She doesn’t care about unfamiliar people or animals scurrying around her, always happy to put her head down and snooze even at the busiest of times. I mean, during our stroll through Nan Ping, we attracted a huge crowd of locals clamouring to see her but she barely batted an eye. She loves it when Aurie, Blackjack, or Lin crawl all over her shell and she’s been pet by hundred of strangers, including powerful Martial Warriors like Akanai, Baatar, Guard Leader and more, all without showing a single sign of aggression or warning.

Until the Legate, Shen Zhenwu, stepped up to touch her beak. All of sudden, she went into what I call siege-mode. Stomach lowered, shoulders squared, neck cocked, and beak half-opened, she looks like a mobile cannon prepared to fire. It’d be comical if it wasn’t so terrifying, as the only other time I’ve seen her do this was when she fired off a giant ball of spit to knock me on my ass. To be fair, I was trying to scare her with my Aura at the time, and after regaining consciousness and taking a second look at her hooked beak, powerful jaws, and deceptively long neck, I realized things could have gone much worse.

Fortunately, I’d already sent my retinue ahead and only Jochi, Argat, and Mafu were there to witness my humiliation, so all was forgiven. Ping-Ping has yet to spit on anyone else including the Legate, who only stepped in for a cursory pat before retreating. A true animal lover would’ve scratched her nose or the ridges between her eyes, searching for that sweet eye-squinting vindication, but I digress. It’s a good thing he backed off though, because while I can’t predict how the Legate will react if the Divine Turtle knocks him out with spit, I’d imagine it’d be something unpleasant for everyone involved, full of torment and suffering and such. Sending siege-mode Ping-Ping love and good vibes through my Aura, I swallow my apprehension and follow Yuzhen’s lead, praying she knows what she’s doing.

Let’s be honest, it's not like I have a choice. Nian Zu’s been stuck with the shittiest job in the North for decades now, so he’s in no position to be giving political advice.

Clasping my hands, I salute and bow as instructed, though I have to step back to avoid headbutting the overly-familiar Legate in the pelvis. Please let this be the closest I ever get to his crotch, it’d be super awkward if it turns out he’s being nice because he wants my body. Curse my boyish good looks and piercing amber eyes. “Imperial Servant thanks Imperial Legate, but Imperial Servant dares not accept. This lowly one is unworthy of such immense honour and begs Imperial Legate to reconsider.” I’d hardly call it an honour to be a turtle’s attendant, Divine or otherwise, but I’m gonna stick with parroting Yuzhen verbatim and keeping my head down until otherwise instructed. My view is limited to the Legate’s feet as they turn towards me in utter silence. It was quiet to begin with but now even the flood of Sendings have stopped as I wait with bated breath for the Legate’s response.

And wait.

Andddd wait.

This is fun... fun, fun, fun, fun, funnnnnn.

“Speak.”

Too surprised by the Legate’s sudden command to know what to say, I’m saved as the Legate’s intended recipient responds. “Imperial Servant Yo Shi-Woo greets Imperial Legate and advises caution when making this decision. The Divine Turtle’s safety is of paramount importance, and to leave such a monumental task to this inexperienced child is to tempt fate and risk drawing the Mother’s ire should Her Sacred Servant come to harm.”

Ha, Sacred Servant my ass. If only they knew about the ‘Sacred Gift’ she left in the waiting room. I don’t envy whoever has to clean those carpets, it was a real stinker.

The bystanders chime in to support Shi-Woo's statement, begging the Legate reconsider his decision while throwing not-so-subtle insults my way. In the space of several minutes, I'm downgraded from ‘inexperienced child’ to ‘deceitful savage’ who supposedly tricked the Divine Turtle into following me around and lied about all my military accomplishments to date. Soon, Akanai and Baatar are drawn into the mix, their names brought up as ‘proof’ of my lies, since ‘no half-beast could rise to their rank without using underhanded and subversive methods’. Nian Zu and Yuzhen also receive their fair share of smearing as the local nobles and officials work together to ruin their good names. After a good fifteen minutes of rambling arguments, the narrative shifts from me becoming Ping-Ping’s protector to punishing me for falsifying military reports and swindling the Imperial Legate as my guilt is all but proven by their illogical fallacies.

What the fuck Yuzhen? Say something! I thought you were supposed to be good at this sort of shit?!

“Enough.” Silent throughout our character assassination, the Legate finally speaks up and the crowd falls silent. “You all claim Falling Rain’s reputation is falsely earned and while parts of it seem bizarre and imaginative, verifying the truth is simple enough. Call out your best youths and let them exchange blows, so that we may see his prowess for ourselves.” Clapping my shoulder once more, he says, “Do not disappoint, or the consequences will be dire.”

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It takes every ounce of self-control I possess to contain my tortured groan. Why can’t things ever be simple? Following Yuzhen’s prompting, I say, “As Imperial Legate commands, this Servant obeys.” Finally straightening up, I stretch and crack my back and neck while the Legate takes his seat and everyone else moves aside. Leading Ping-Ping to stand at the side with Akanai and the rest, I hide a satisfied smile as her massive bulk forces a cluster of Central nobles to scurry aside. Patting her head, I try to convince her to relax and lie down with little success. To further complicate matters, she keeps trying to follow me back to the middle of the room, like a sad puppy unwilling to be left alone.

Only now do I notice the absence of my guards, the worthless Guard Leader and Guan Suo nowhere to be found. Honestly, I was pretty thrilled to have two, powerful warriors volunteer to escort me into unfamiliar territory, but I would’ve been better off bringing Argat and Jochi. Hell, Pran and Saluk would’ve been an improvement, they wouldn’t have ditched me halfway through.

Wrapping Ping-Ping’s enormous beak in a hug, I condense a calm, soothing Aura and pray it gets the point across. “You big baby,” I whisper, looking her in the eye. “Don’t be so paranoid. I’m not leaving. I’m just going over there to handle some business. I’ll be right back, so be a good turtle and stay, okay?” Patting her nose, Ping-Ping hunkers in place and squeaks mournfully as I back away slowly. God, she’s worse than Aurie, how can a giant, millennia-old terrapin be so clingy?

Turning to face my gathered opponents, I note the multitude of sour and angry looks directed my way. The nobles and officials of Central probably think I engineered Ping-Ping’s neediness to disprove their slanderous lies, but if I had that much control over her, I’d make her spit on every last one of them. I don’t care what they say about me but they crossed a line when they insulted Baatar and Akanai. Nian Zu and Yuzhen too I guess, but they can handle their own stuff.

To my great disappointment, my opponents turn out to be eight children barely old enough to shave. Probably nineteen or twenty years old, would be my guess. It seems Central has their honour still, refusing to send older warriors who’ve already formed their Natal Palaces, but this leaves the odds stacked in my favour. After hearing my complaints, Baledagh says, “There’s no need for you to act Brother. Let me handle these fools.”

After thinking it through, I agree and mentally step aside. “Just don’t overdo it, okay? No need to start any blood-feuds.” Baledagh’s fighting style is flashier so it’ll be more interesting to watch, and he’s probably bored silly from hanging around just to check for Spectres. We’ve come across a couple, but nothing like the numbers we saw in Sanshu. I’m still woefully short on Heavenly Energy to get Sarnai back on her feet, much less build a brand new body for me or Baledagh.

Bear arms when? I need them to match up against Gen's creepy blade fingers. Water vs fire, bear vs blade, seems fair, right?

Coming to a halt ten paces from the neat little row of opponents, Baledagh glances around and asks, “Practice weapons?”

“Hmph.” Flashing what can only be a well-practised sneer, a young fop responds, “Is that how they fight in the North? With dulled blades and blunted spears? Too scared of death to fight with real weapons?”

A cold smile makes it way across Baledagh’s face as he draws Peace and Tranquility. Stretching his left arm to the side, he cuts deep into his forearm and squeezes hard, spraying crimson blood in a soaring arc which lands onto the elegant silk robes of our fresh-faced opponents. While I mend severed arteries and carved flesh, Baledagh says, “The practice weapons are for your benefit. Care to reconsider?”

Say what you will about reckless self-harm, but Baledagh knows how to put on a show. None of our opponents speak, though I can see fear and regret in their eyes. From his throne, the Legate smiles and says, “Good, good. Swords and spears have no eyes, so suffer no grievances or grudges for any injuries incurred. Imperial Servant Falling Rain, as the challenged, how would you like to proceed?”

In no rush to reply, Baledagh studies our opponents with a careful eye. Shaking his head ever so slightly, he clasps his hands and bows. “Imperial Servant doesn’t wish to waste any of Imperial Legate’s precious time. Let them all come at once. I won't use Aura so long as they don't either.”

Uh... Seriously dude? I mean, even if they’re all shaking in their boots, they’re still rich nobles with the best instructors money can buy. Worried I might shake his confidence, I keep quiet and say a little prayer to the Mother. Shamed by Baledagh’s disrespect, the same poncy fop who accused us of being afraid goes red with rage as his fingers tighten around a jian, a flimsy, double-edged duelling sword popular here in Central. “Arrogant savage,” he screams, interrupting the Legate. “Die for me!”

Despite sounding the charge, the jian-wielding fop stands in place while his companions rush us in anger. Exploding into motion, Baledagh ducks a clumsy, over-hand slash and shoulder-checks the leading youth, flipping him over our head and into the air. Without missing a beat, Baledagh takes a backhand swing at the closest youth and catches him in the ribs mid-jump with the flat of our sword. Using Peace like a club, Baledagh bashes the next two opponents into submission with clean strikes to the jaw, both unfortunate souls spinning in place as their forward momentum comes to a crashing halt. Locking blades with another youth, my little brother steps around the blades and chops down with Tranquility’s rim, following through with the same motion to parry a thrust as he swivels on one foot and elbows a hidden assailant in the face.

A front kick catches our seventh opponent in the chest and Baledagh is left facing our last opponent, the mouthy little fop with the flimsy sword. Trembling from head to toe, the wide-eyed brat backs away from Baledagh’s approach, panic taking over after watching us defeat seven of his peers without breaking a sweat. “S-stay b-back,” he stutters, his warbling sword held in two shaky hands. “D-don’t!” Playing things up, Baledagh stalks this last, frightened youth like a hungry lion, moving neither too fast or too slow. Tossing his weapon to the floor, the little fops shows both palms in submission. “P-please, I y-y-yield. Victory is y-yours.”

Lip curled in disdain, Baledagh kicks the fops sword back, the beautifully crafted Spiritual Weapon scraping across the marble tiles. “Despicable,” he says, his voice unmoved and unforgiving. “Pick up your weapon and fight.”

The fop’s eyes dart to the crowd and Shi-Woo speaks up. “Imperial Legate, this Servant -.”

“The match continues.”

Crumpling at the Legate’s refusal, the little fop falls to his knees and cowers behind his hands, saying nothing as he trembles in place. While I feel for the kid, Baledagh doesn’t share my sympathy. “Is this what you intend to do when the Defiled come? Throw your sword aside and yield? You’d be better off using it to cut your throat because the Enemy will not stop at victory. They will raze your lands and turn this city into a land of suffering and despair, because that is all they know. There is no surrender with the Defiled, you either fight, or you die.”

The fop refuses once more with a silent shake of his head, and Baledagh acts. With two quick, careful cuts, he leaves the fop’s arms all but useless, though in no danger of bleeding out. Placing our bloodied sword beneath the fop’s chin, Baledagh forces him to look into our eyes. All I see is a young man terrified out of his wits and I urge Baledagh to show mercy, but he doesn’t respond, staring into the boy’s eyes for long seconds.

When Baledagh finally speaks, his tone is casual and informal, as if chatting with a close friend in a private setting. “I admit, I’ve heard countless strange and fanciful rumours in my time, so half of what you’ve heard about me is probably untrue. Disappointing, I know, but we’re both victims here. I was told Central’s warriors were expert duellists, risking life and limb for fame and rank, but such is life.” Sighing, Baledagh shakes his head and continues. “They’re no laughing matter, duels to the death. It’s hard to explain how it feels to walk on stage with your opponent and know only one of you will leave alive. I still remember my first duel to the death like it was yesterday. My opponent was Teng Wei Chuan of the Baiji Sect, twenty-three years old and already a Captain at the Wall, defending the Empire from the Defiled hordes. I’m not a large man and back then I was even smaller, mostly skin and bones. Teng Wei Chuan towered above me, a warrior-born with broad shoulders, a barrel chest, and a voice like thunder. Once our duel started, he charged forward and I swear the stage shook with his every step. Sometimes when I close my eyes, I still see him leaping across the stage with fist cocked, ready to smash me into a pulp. I was so terrified I almost forgot to raise my weapons, a callow, seventeen year old boy fighting to the death against a seasoned Captain.” Even the little fop is caught up in the tale and the room is so quiet you can hear a pin drop. “With a single strike, Teng Wei Chuan shattered the solid stone stage, raising a cloud of dust which obscured vision for meters around us. If I’d been a half-step slower or he a half-step faster, I wouldn’t be standing here today, but luck was on my side that day. I avoided his strike and countered with one of my own, landing a fatal blow on his abdomen. Make no mistake, he had hours to treat it and any competent healer could have saved him, but it was a killing blow nonetheless.” Knuckles tightening around Peace, Baledagh shrugs and concludes, “So I cut his throat and watched him die, his body trembling as his life’s blood spilled from neck and stomach.”

Startled by the abrupt end of Baledagh’s tale, the young fop whimpers and backs away, but my little brother won’t allow it. Keeping Peace under the fop’s chin as he advances, Baledagh asks, “Do you know why I’m telling you this?” Without waiting for an answer, he continues, matching pace with the retreating fop. “Because I shouldn’t have killed him. True, he represented the Society who wronged me and my family, but Teng Wei Chuan was a magnificent warrior of the Empire. In these dark times, we need more men like him.” Stamping on the fop’s pants leg, Baledagh puts an end to his retreat and speaks over the young man’s pleading cries. “I regret killing Teng Wei Chuan, but I’ll never regret killing a snivelling little brat like you.”

“Stop.” The Legate’s command ends the match before Baledagh strikes the killing blow, but our opponent has already fainted. Of the other seven youths, only three are still conscious, but they're all alive and breathing. Putting his weapons away, Baledagh marches back to stand before the Legate’s throne and bows before giving control back to me. “Well done,” the Legate says, sounding pleased as can be. “Your reputation is well-deserved and your mercy much appreciated. You speak true, for the Empire needs every warrior it can find, though I'd hesitate to call trash like him a warrior.” Addressing the crowd, the Legate says, “My decrees stand. The Divine Turtle is not to be harmed and Warrant Officer Falling Rain will see to her needs and safety. I will hear no more talk on this subject.”

... Wait what? I didn’t agree to this. When did attendant become bodyguard? Wait, with Nian Zu, Yuzhen, and Akanai all staying in the Magistrate’s Palace, my three strongest supporters will be too far away to help. Fuck! Seriously, why is the Legate giving such an important job to a nineteen year old kid? Ask Nian Zu to nanny the turtle or something, this is way above my pay grade.

Adding a shit-cherry on top of my shit-sundae, Yuzhen reminds me to thank the Legate for this dubious honour.

I hope Guan Suo and Guard Leader come back soon, because something tells me I’m gonna need all the help I can get and more. Then again, the Legate did say I’m to be given ‘free reign to carry out my Holy Duty’, whatever they might be. With an Imperial Legate backing me, that means I get to be the arrogant young master and scream 'do you know who I am?'. I could have fun with this, or better yet, do a lot of good. I still don’t trust the Legate, but as long as he’s pretending to back me, I might as well make the best of a bad situation.

All I have to do is keep Ping-Ping alive. She survived thousands of years all on her own, so how hard could it be?

Chapter Meme