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Savage Divinity
Chapter 378

Chapter 378

Catharsis is a wonderful thing.

After a long cry on Taduk’s shoulder, it feels like a burden’s been lifted off my shoulders, a weight off of my chest. Objectively, my personal situation hasn’t really changed since this morning, especially since I almost inadvertently doomed us all with my reckless actions out on the Azure Sea. I’m still the same liar and screw up who nearly got my family and friends Purged, but somehow, knowing Taduk’s faith in me never wavered, my guilt matters less now. I made many mistakes, but so long as I learn from the experience and strive to never make them again, then there’s nothing to forgive in Taduk’s eyes. Knowing this, my guilt remains, but it’s no longer overwhelming and ever present, more of a muted droning than a deafening scream in the back of my mind.

It's not something I can quantify, but it’s a wonderful thing to have someone believe in you, especially when you don’t believe in yourself.

Truth be told, my good mood isn’t solely due to Taduk’s trust, the brief reunion with Lin and Mila, or even Luo-Luo’s great news about how I didn’t ruin the cast iron deal with my drunken ramblings. Mostly, I’m relieved because the Defiled are finally here, which is odd since it means more bloodshed and mayhem, but after months of apprehension and anticipation, I’m just glad the wait is finally over. Murderous cannibals though they may be, I understand their motivations. They want everyone dead, so I make them dead first, simple and straightforward. My so called allies? Utterly unreadable. I still don’t know who tried to kill me on two separate occasions and the Legate’s motives are as baffling as ever, but now, I won’t have to worry about it as much. The Defiled have arrived and everyone will have more pressing matters on their mind, and better yet, be too busy for all the frivolous festivities and exhausting social events.

I’d rather single-handedly fight an entire army of Defiled than spend another night making small talk with the cream of Society. Both events are equally exhausting, but at least I’m allowed to kill the Defiled.

With my only nightshirt hung out to dry, I lay shirtless by the brazier and watch the bun buns hop around, butting heads and doing random jump kicks as bunnies are wont to do, all while Blackjack hides beneath the bed. The bun buns are growing restless with age, no longer content to spend the entire day napping in their saddlebags and now raring to set off into the wilderness in search of adventure and Spiritual Plants. On the other hand, Mama Bun looks more content than ever as she buries her face into my chest, utterly relaxed save for the two paws clutching little Pong Pong to her chest.

Angling them both for a better look, I note the newest addition to my family isn’t quite like other turtles, though the differences are hard to spot at first glance. For one, the patterns on Pong Pong shell are not only beautiful and eye-catching, a dark green base highlighted by streaks of vibrant yellow, but also perfectly symmetrical from top to bottom. His overall shape is also equally uniform, with no odd ridges or protrusions like Ping Ping’s shell and not a chip or imperfection in sight. Another thing to note are his tiny turtle arms, covering his face as he rests inside his lovely, durable shell. Rather than the flippers of a sea turtle or the legs of a land turtle, Pong Pong has something of a combination of the two, sporting five (proportionally) long, webbed claws and armoured forearms which afford him the means to attack and defend without hindering his mobility in the slightest.

Truly a paragon among turtles, though too small to be properly intimidating. I dunno, maybe this is the optimal size for survival or something, which I admit is kinda disappointing. I mean, I thought Ping Ping was too small for a proper Divine Turtle, and then it turns out the real deal fits nicely in my shirt pocket. So sad.

As if sensing my rude thoughts, Pong Pong peeks out from between his fingers, scanning left and right before feeling safe enough to exit his shell. Emitting a powerful yawn accompanied by the tiniest of squeaks, Pong Pong easily slips out from Mama Bun’s embrace and crawls over the sleeping bunny and drops to the ground. Craning his neck about, I giggle at his adorable antics as he inspects his new surroundings, taking a few tentative steps this way and that while trying to make sense of the chaos and madness. His actions remind me of a tourist from the boonies arriving in the big city for the first time. From the jousting bunnies, the roaring flames, and even the comfortable blankets he treads upon, little Pong Pong takes it all in with a wide-eyed stare and open-mouthed awe.

Though red ringed with dark pupils, his eyes have a quality to them that can only be described as human-like, brimming with curiosity and intelligence. Add to this his evocative expressions, it feels like I can almost follow his thought process as he glances about the room. While peering at the bun buns and Mama bun, I see him wondering what the connection is, and when he approaches the comfortable warmth and light of the brazier, I can pinpoint the exact moment he discovers fire is something to be wary of. Everything in the yurt is new to him, and his response is child-like wonder and amazement, showing more intelligence than one would expect from any animal, much less the most adorable little turtle in the world.

Happy to leave him to his explorations, I intervene only when he tries to take a bite of Mama Bun’s fur. “Hi Pong Pong,” I whisper, staying still while the little turtle freezes in place and watches me warily. “Are you hungry? Good thing I grabbed this while scarfing down lunch.” Shooing Roc aside, I open the water-filled box and pull out a single freshly killed shrimp for Pong Pong to munch on. Startled by my sudden movements, the skittish fellow pops back into his shell so quickly it clatters to the ground and wobbles about before falling still. Stifling my laughter, I remind myself to tread carefully when dealing with Pong Pong, because as adorable as he is, the little dude could probably level my yurt without lifting a finger. While he looks and acts like a child, he’s no desperate, starving cub like Banjo and Baloo, but a fully grown creature who could easily be millennia of years old and is understandably suspicious of my motives.

Honestly, having lived so long, I’d be more surprised if he wasn’t cynical and jaded.

Still too exhausted to use Aura, I lay my head down and wiggle the raw shrimp to maybe draw him out. Silent and swift, Roc darts over and snatches the treat out of my fingers, looking ridiculous as he hops and flaps in a futile attempt to take flight. While I laugh at his hilarious antics, the bun buns are drawn over by all the commotion, hopping by to see what all the fuss is about. I’m not sure if it’s because he spent the last hour in Mama Bun’s paws or because of the lingering scent of Spiritual Algae, but Pong Pong is an immediate hit with the bun buns as they swarm him in droves, their noses twitching and cheeks huffing while held back by the magic of Chi and Deflection.

Or maybe not. Deflection is using Chi to redirect the force of a blow, a momentary burst of force to turn a direct blow into a glancing one. It’s not exactly an external usage of Chi because it still requires direct contact to pull off, but whatever Pong Pong is doing keeps the bun buns well out of paw’s reach. Lending credence to my suspicions, Flopsy lives up to his name and tries to flop down next to Pong Pong, only to land on an invisible barrier and slide off to the side. A sustained defensive technique rather than a momentary one, and an effective one at that.

Maybe it’s just a high-level usage of Deflection, but for now, I’ll call it Barrier. Pong Pong Sensei, teach me your skills!

Worried the bun buns will incur Pong Pong’s wrath, I distract the silly floofs with a handful of dried fruit and a bag of wheat-grass, scattering it about the yurt in a shower of delicious flavour. As the bun buns stampede away, I’m left with Pong Pong once again, though Roc lurks nearby, watching and waiting for an opportunity to swoop in and steal more treats. Shooting the thieving bird a warning glare, I place another shrimp by Pong Pong’s head and lay down to wait, nuzzling Mama Bun’s soft, dried fur while fighting off exhaustion. I’d love to just close my eyes and fall asleep, but I’d rather not let the uber powerful turtle go hungry.

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I’ve seen Pong Pong when he’s angry.

I don’t like it when he’s angry.

Long minutes pass before Pong Pong pokes his head back out, eyeing the voracious bun buns as he does. Ambling over to the shrimp, he takes a few sniffs before tentatively taking a bite, only to fail and push the shrimp away with his actions. It takes two more failures before he wises up, holding the shrimp in place with a clawed foot as he takes a massive bite out of its armoured head. The clever turtle devours his meal in a handful of bites and turns to me with an expectant gleam in his eyes, so I offer him a second shrimp with a smile. Tossing one to Roc for good measure, I look back to find Pong Pong climbing into the box with the offering in mouth, grinning with avarice as he swims among the corpses of his prey. Paddling about, he munches down with a squeak of delight, emptying the box in a matter of minutes, a sight I will not soon forget.

Small turtle. Big appetite.

After devouring probably twice his body’s volume in fresh seafood, the voracious creature glances over with the same expectant gleam in his eye, still yet to be sated. “Sorry Pong Pong,” I say with a shrug, too tired to go out and ask for more. “I’ll feed you again in a few hours, okay?” Disappointed by my lack of movement, Pong Pong bobs inside the water box with a disgruntled frown. “Look, I know you’re still hungry, but there’s no need to be angry. You want wheat grass or dried fruit?” Turtles eat veggies right? Refusing to even look at me, Pong Pong fixes his gaze on the wall as if utterly riveted by the leather-lined interior. “I promise, I’ll get you more fish for dinner. A big one, all for yourself. Sound good?” Still no reaction, and I shudder as my mind conjures up images of Pong Pong throwing a massive turtle tantrum in the middle of camp, all because I was too lazy to get up. “Fine,” I groan, pushing myself to my feet. “I’ll go get you more, so -”

Oh. Never mind. He’s not angry, he’s pooping.

...

God damn it. Small turtle. Massive turds. Well, seeing how much the little dude eats, I suppose it makes sense, though his metabolism is a little too absurd if this is how quickly he processes nutrients.

Once finished with his business, Pong Pong clambers out the fouled box and stands still as I wipe him clean. I should remember which handkerchief this is and dedicate it solely to turtle cleaning duties, but chances are, I won’t remember until it’s too late. Unwilling to sleep next to a box of turtle poop, I take it to the door and empty it outside, right into the grasses where the Monk used to sit. He’s not there and I’m not sure if he’s coming back, but if he does, I hope he enjoys sitting in Divine Turtle poop. Handing the box to one of the Death Corps guards with instructions to have it washed and rinsed thoroughly, I head back inside to find Pong Pong back in Mama Bun’s embrace, all pooped out and ready for a second nap. Settling down beside them, I stroke the silly little turtle’s shell and whisper, “Goodnight Pong Pong.”

Hugging Mama Bun to my chest, I can feel Pong Pong’s cold shell pressed against my skin, and while it’s not as pleasant as Mama Bun’s soft fur, it’s not terrible. Throwing a blanket over all three of us, I hold it up and the bun buns scamper in to join us, eager to settle in and snuggle away the afternoon. When they finally finish digging in and Blackjack hops over to squeeze under Mama Bun’s chubby cheeks, I close my eyes and sigh, ready to face the hard question I’ve ignored for far too long already.

Is Qing-Qing’s hut now a permanent fixture inside my Natal Palace and a constant reminder of my past mistakes, or will it be gone and I’ll be left to suffer through her loss yet again?

Find out next time on -

No... No... I should check before I sleep. At least then I’ll be too tired to be sad, which is important because no matter the answer, I’ll still be disappointed and reminded of all my failures and losses.

An hour of clarity and happiness is good enough, I suppose. Back to gloomy Rain I go.

Giving Blackjack’s heiny a kiss for good luck, I steady my breathing and reach for Balance. It comes easily this time, resigned as I am, though I still hesitate to step into my Natal Palace, fearful of what I’ll find there. Pushing through the doubt and uncertainty, I take the plunge and emerge in the void, surrounded by water as far as the eye can see -

Wait.

Uhh... I thought the water disappeared before I made Qing-Qing’s hut. Why is it back now?

So surprised by the water’s reemergence, it takes me a while to notice the other glaring discrepancies within my Natal Palace, obvious though they might be. Qing-Qing’s hut is nowhere to be found, but so too is Baledagh’s room and my chalice of Heavenly Energy. Overcome with panic, I turn in place and scour my Natal Palace for a recognizable feature, but see nothing but clear water and dark ground in all directions. It’s all so familiar, yet also alien, like when Blobby was around to guard me but bereft of my little brother’s only shrine, the last remaining thing I had to remember him by.

Unwilling to shoulder the loss, I try to will the room back into existence, but no matter how hard I focus on the image in my mind, nothing I imagine forms in my Natal Palace, not Baledagh’s room, Qing-Qing’s hut, my home in the village, or even my yurt in Nan Ping. Despite knowing my body isn’t really here, I take a deep breath to calm my nerves. By destroying the replica of the village, have I caused irreparable damage to my Natal Palace? Is this what the Legate meant by ‘diminished’? Is this why it’s been in flux lately? Does this mean it’s no longer able to hold a cohesive form? Am I stuck with this vacant, underwater domain forever, or will it be a crap shoot every time I visit, wondering what image from my subconscious I’ll find next?

Great. Just great. I lost my happy place, which was never really all that happy to begin with, but it was mine. Then again, this could all be because I overdrew my Chi reserves during the confrontation with Pong Pong, so maybe I’ll get lucky for once and everything will pop back into existence after I meditate and top off my Core. Willing myself to calm down, I open myself to the Energy of the Heavens -

The ground trembles beneath my feet and slides out from under me.

Even as my body tumbles through the watery depths, the world spins circles around me, a nauseating and disorienting sight I would never care to repeat. Twisting and turning, the world alternates between darkness and light as time and direction lose all meaning. Am I falling or is the world rising? Does it matter?

Without warning, the world comes to a halt and I find myself face to face with a massive, red moon hanging in the sky, or perhaps planted in the ground, I’m not sure which. Against my will, I’m brought on a journey around the moon, or I remain in place while the moon rotates before me, again I’m not sure of which. Soon enough, a shimmering sea of blackness emerges from the red moon’s surface, and I’m struck by an epiphany as I take in the familiar sight, one I witnessed mere minutes ago in the real world.

That’s no moon...

Waving at the massive eyeball, I force a smile and yell, “Hi Pong Pong!”

The gravity of the situation makes my stomach turn. Somehow, I stepped into the wrong Natal Palace, invading the tiny turtle’s domain instead of slipping into my own. I don’t know how it happened, or what triggers it, especially since I’ve never been able to replicate the feat whether it be with Dagen or anyone else I know and trust. Aside from Dagen, the other Natal Palaces I ventured into belonged to Yo Ling and Bei, one Defiled and one Demon respectively. Thankfully, Pong Pong is a far more humble host than Yo Ling, and after peering at my tiny Spiritual Body for a while, shrinks himself down to a much more reasonable size, though still many times larger than his real body, stopping at about twenty times bigger than Ping Ping.

Glancing around, I realize it’s possible he didn’t shrink himself down, but instead made my Spiritual Body larger, which has implications I’d rather not dwell on. Turns out, Pong Pong’s Natal Palace isn’t as empty as I’d thought, I was merely too small to perceive it. Colourful stones and verdant seaweeds dot the landscape all around us, while golden sand sparkles from in between. It’s a complete underwater world, filled with all manner of complex sea structures stretching farther than I can see. Judging from the disparity in our initial sizes, it stands to reason Pong Pong’s Natal Palace is much, much, much larger than my own, which backs the Legate’s claim that bigger is better. I guess Pong Pong is big where it matters, which explains how he beat the shit out of five peak Experts and his future wife.

Resting on what appears to be a bed of sculpted, pink coral, Pong Pong studies me with undisguised curiosity, obviously wondering how I appeared in his mental sanctuary. That makes two of us, but sadly, I lack the ability to communicate effectively. Patting his massive nose, I giggle at how absurd this must seem to his little turtle brain, finding a tiny replica of the person who offered home and safety inside his mental fortress of solitude. It might also be because I’ve gone giddy with fear since I realized I’ve inadvertantly stepped into a domain in which Pong Pong holds absolute power.

Seriously... he could wipe me out with little more than a thought. What happens if this Spiritual Body dies? Do I cough up blood and wake up, or do I turn into a vegetable and sleep forever? Maybe I’ll form a third, previously unknown personality and he’ll step in and take over. I don’t know, but I’d rather not find out. Sadly, the first thing I did was try to will myself awake, but to no effect. It seems I’m stuck here at the mercy of Pong Pong’s whims, but thankfully, the ginormous turtle has yet to react, happy to lay there while I awkwardly pat his nose and pray he doesn’t eat me.

Tilting his head, he nudges me away and a massive shrimp pops into existence between us, his way of asking for more food.

Thankful I fed him before going down for a nap, I nod and shout, “Yes! I’ll get you more shrimp, but you have to let me out.” Blinking in non-comprehension, the giant turtle tilts his head the other way and makes yet another shrimp, unable to understand my words or gestures. Swimming over to the first shrimp, I point at it while furiously nodding, hoping he’s smart enough to understand. Blinking in contentment, Pong Pong smiles and the world dissipates around us.

Coming to with a start, I sit up in my yurt surrounded by a horde of disgruntled bun buns, annoyed by the disruption of their afternoon nap. Poking out from his shell, Pong Pong’s head has the same inquisitive tilt, still wondering if what he saw in his Natal Palace was real or imagined. Heart pounding in my chest, I smile at the tiny turtle and nod once again, saying, “You want shrimp? I’ll feed you all the shrimp you want Pong Pong.”

I don’t know if this is a good or bad thing, but what I do know is if the super powerful turtle with a planet-sized Natal Palace wants to eat shrimp, who am I, with my tiny, room-sized Natal Palace, to refuse? Besides, Pong Pong is so physically tiny, how much could he possibly eat?

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