Despite the dire circumstances I’ve found myself in, I can’t help but resent Guan Suo, my only ally in all this. With Ping Ping in tow, we follow Daxian the Virtuous through the busy streets of Nan Ping, and it soon becomes clear no one notices our passing. Normally, everyone stops what they’re doing to gape, pray or scurry out of our way, but tonight, everyone goes about their business as usual, paying no attention to the giant turtle in their midst. It’s almost surreal seeing people unconsciously flowing around us, our bodies invisible but our presence noted. Coolies and rickshaw runners zip right by Ping Ping’s legs while children dart beneath her without ever noticing her majestic self, much less Guan Suo, Daxian, or myself, as if we’re ghosts wandering among the living or the world around us is merely a projection rather than reality itself.
Honestly? It’s awesome, but I’m irked because if this is possible, then why doesn’t Guan Suo do this all the time? If Daxian can do it, I refuse to believe the grumpy old red-panda can’t, and it would’ve made travelling through Nan Ping so much easier...
After a few minutes, our destination becomes clear and my heart skips a beat. “We’re going to the Magistrate’s Palace?” This can’t be good. What are the chances the Legate isn’t involved? Ancestral Beast or not, I doubt even GangShu could evade detection from the Legate’s protectors. I mean, why would Ancestral Beasts sign a Treaty if the Imperial Clan wasn’t strong enough to enforce it?
My question earns me a harsh glare and a silent warning from the oh so Virtuous Daxian, which is a stupid title to begin with. He’s a former soldier turned bandit, so how virtuous can he be? Maybe he’s a certified, card-carrying virgin so they call him the virtuous, though I don’t know why anyone would want such a shitty title much less wear a breastplate proclaiming it to the world. Resisting the urge to draw Peace and hamstring the uppity bandit, I clench my fists and swallow my anger for Taduk’s sake. My teacher has been taken hostage and killing Gerel-lite here won’t do either of us any good, assuming I could even pull it off.
Bah. I should have told Guan Suo to snap the bastard’s neck when I had the chance, or better yet, left Lei Gong and the Tyrant to drown in the Azure Sea. This is how they want to repay me? Well, courtesy demands reciprocity, and the same can be said of discourtesy. I don’t give a shit if GangShu is an Ancestral Beast or if he has the Legate’s backing, if they hurt Taduk, I’ll make them pay. I can’t beat them in a stand up fight, but I bet a bullet to the head or heart will ruin their day.
Ah, shit. Really wish I’d grabbed Unity from Zabu’s harness on my way out...
Whatever happens, you must endure. Smile, nod, go along with their demands, do whatever it is you need to do to get out alive, even if it means you have to give them Pong Pong. Then, after the dust settles, you can firebomb the whole fucking palace if that’s what it takes to get even.
...
Woah, calm down, murderous subconscious me. You haven’t figured out explosives yet, remember? No worries though, your enemies aren’t the only ones who know how to use poison, and if that doesn’t work, then head back to the mountains and bide your time. Revenge is a dish best served cold.
...
Wow, even my logical half is starting to sound murder-hobo-esque. I’m not sure how I feel about this, but it's GangShu and the Legate who’ve pushed me this far, so they’ll have no one to blame but themselves. If this is how they’ll treat me and my loved ones, then the Empire can go fuck itself.
Taking a circuitous route through an underground passage I didn’t know existed, Daxian brings us under the walls and into the Magistrate’s Palace, emerging in the courtyard of what I assume is one of the guest manors. Ping Ping voices her displeasure when I follow Daxian into the main house, but thankfully, instead of throwing a fit, the big girl settles down with a thud, glaring at me and Guan Suo as we leave her behind.
Poor girl, but perhaps this is for the best. I don’t know what’s waiting for me inside, and I’d rather Ping Ping not get wrapped up in all this.
Opening the main door, Daxian stands aside and gestures for me to go through. “Mind your manners,” Daxian Sends, remaining outside as he closes the door behind us. “Not even you can get away with mouthing off in there.”
Well, that’s not foreboding at all. Gathering my courage, I glance at Guan Suo and say, “You know, it’s not too late for you to back out. I appreciate your help, but you don’t have to be here. In fact, I’d feel better if you brought Ping Ping away to safety, not that I can order you around or anything.”
Raising one bushy white eyebrow, Guan Suo asks, “Safety? Pei. She’s safer sitting in that courtyard than anywhere else in the world right now, boy. What do you think is happening here?”
“Uh... my teacher was taken hostage by an Ancestral Beast?”
With an uncharacteristic smile, Guan Suo pats my back and pushes me along. “Your teacher is fine, boy. Go on in, time is wasting and in short supply.”
Confused and relieved, I head into the manor’s sitting room to find the Legate drinking tea with what can only be described as a smattering of eclectic Experts. The Legate’s usual guards are nowhere to be found, though the four human Experts on either side of him are on full alert. I specify human because the remaining three Experts are half-beasts, which is surprising considering the general sentiment towards half-beasts. More surprising is that the Legate is playing the part of junior in all this, filling everyone’s tea cups without complaint or grievance, even the cups of his Expert guards. Taking a careful look at the Experts, I commit their faces to memory on the off chance I see them all again. The human Experts are all cut from the same cloth, slender, bearded men with grumpy expressions, but the half-beasts are a varied bunch.
As usual, the sole woman in the group catches my eye first, a bushy-tailed half-fox with an ageless grace, a lovely, white-haired beauty who could pass for anywhere between forty and seventy years old. Unfortunately, her heritage combined with the ragged robes and quarterstaff tells me she’s in league with the Gams, which means I want nothing to do with her or her odd, half-brothers. Beside her is a stately, long-horned half-bull dressed in luxurious, embroidered robes, a hulking warrior who looks ridiculous sipping at his dainty teacup, but I’ll leave it to someone braver or stupider than me to inform him. The third half-beast is a little more difficult to place from his ears alone, but his colourful armour marks him as a Southerner. Add this to his wide, bulbous nose with a tiny, almost imperceptible white bump on the end of it makes me think he’s a half-rhino, and until someone tells me otherwise, a half-rhino he will be.
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Unsure how to proceed, the decision is made for me as the Legate’s Seneschal bars my path and drags me away from the table of Experts, heading towards a room deeper inside the manor. “You do what needs to be done, boy,” Guan Suo Sends, and I glance back to see him join the other Experts while the Legate smiles and pours him a cup of tea. “I’ll be out here if you need me.”
Once again, I’m forced to reevaluate Guan Suo’s standing, but there’s precious little time to think. All but shoving me over the threshold, the Seneschal bows and shuts the door behind me, leaving me trapped in a room alone with GangShu. No, not alone, as Taduk is toiling away over a bed in the corner, using Chi, scalpel, and medicine to tend to a bruised and battered warrior, missing so many chunks of flesh it seems more corpse than man. So covered in blood and injuries, I barely recognize the monk laying right before my eyes, and only piece the clues together after seeing the Spiritual Spade leaning against the wall beside him.
Now I feel bad about wishing him harm for running out after my wedding banquet...
Tearing my eyes away from the bloodied monk, I turn to GangShu for answers. Ignoring the urge to run over and hug him, I place my hand on his forearm and Send, “What happened?”
“Near as I can tell, Zhu Chanzui happened.” Shaking his head, GangShu sinks into his chair and sighs. “What a day. Losing my Runic Barge and the chance to find a drop of Heavenly Water was bad enough, but now I find out the Immortal is Defiled as they come and strong enough to reduce the Dharmapala to this... Mark my words boy, dark days are coming ahead. The Treaty is broken, and all hell will break loose.”
I fucking knew that pig was no good. “I don’t understand. Why did Big Poppa Piggy attack the... Dharmapala?” The Monk had nothing to do with what happened at the Winery. More curious is how the monk called himself my Dharmapala, or Dharma protector, so why does GangShu say it like it’s a title?
Snorting with laughter, GangShu smiles and Sends, “Big Poppa Piggy, I like that. Think I’ll use it the next time I see him.” Shrugging, he continues, “Few days ago, the Dharmapala dropped by to tell Wugang he was chasing down the Confessor. Said the old coot tried to kill you again, so he was off to smash the crazy bastard into meat paste. Fer a self-professed pacifist, the Dharmapala seems like an ornery feller, but I ain’t one to judge. Then, half an hour ago, he turns up looking like that and stays conscious long enough to tell us Zhu Chanzui’s Defiled, broken the Treaty, and that Sinuji ain’t there no more.”
... Who the fuck is the Confessor and why is he trying to kill me? What does that have to do with the Defiled Big Piggy? Also, Sinuji is on the border between Central and West, clear half-way across the province from here, at least ten days by boat, but the Monk’s only been gone for four days. What the fuck is going on here?
“Rain my boy.” Looking up from his work, Taduk calls me over to the Monk’s side. “Come. He wants you to hear his last will and testament.”
With a heavy heart, I kneel at the Monk’s side and take his hand, knowing that if Taduk can’t save him, then no one can. Only one of the Monk’s eyes is opened, the other sporting a lump so large he can’t see past it, a minor injury compared to the missing chunks of flesh dotted across his body. To one side lies a shred of cloth covered in a familiar black gunk, now inert without the light of the sun shining over it.Turning to Taduk with a raised eyebrow, he confirms my suspicions with a helpless sigh. "It's the same substance your people found at the winery, but its far more dangerous than we gave it credit. Jorani's quick thinking saved your soldier's life, for the longer this dark substance remains on the afflicted, the more dangerous it becomes. Not only does it eat away at flesh and bone, it uses whatever it devours to multiply and spread. He's too far gone for me to save, as the substance is deep in his organs and replicating faster than I can remove it."
And judging by all the scattered bits of flesh and organs around us, Taduk gave it his best.
Opening his cracked and bloodied lips, the Monk locks his one eye on Taduk and utters, “Privacy?”
“No one will hear what you say,” Taduk assures him, patting my head as he steps away. “Not even myself. I swear it upon my honour.”
Waiting long enough for Taduk and GangShu to leave the room, the brutalized Monk deflates as he pulls me close, his voice barely above a whisper as he speaks his last. “Brother SanDukkha,” he wheezes, his voice filled with urgency, “You have yet to take the vows of the Brotherhood, but this one must burden you with my dying words. Swear you will bring them to the Abbot, for he must hear them.”
“I swear, I’ll send word -”
“No!” With startling strength for a dying man, the Monk sits up with a glare. “The words must go from your mouth to his ear, understood? No other is to hear what I am about to say, for they concern secrets of the highest order! Swear brother, this one begs it of you.”
Unable to bring myself to refuse, I nod and say, “I swear it. I’ll tell him everything in person, but I can’t promise it’ll be anytime soon. All out war is about to begin, so I can’t just wander off to go visit the Abbot.”
“Tell the Legate what I’ve asked you to do and he will grant you permission.” Taking it as a matter of fact, the Monk settles back down into his pillows to gather his thoughts, and I busy myself making him comfortable. Just as I’m about to check if he’s still conscious, the Monk whispers, “Tell the Abbot Mahakala has failed, and to use my story as a warning to all others. Goujian was to be my Disciple, my successor, but instead, my teachings turned him into the Confessor, a reprehensible murderer and torturer. Such is my greatest shame, but not my greatest failure. My greatest failure lies rooted in pride, which kept me from correcting the error of my ways. Pride kept me from asking the Abbot for his help, and pride kept me from doing what I knew needed to be done, to give up salvation in this life and put down the monster of my own creation. How many thousands of lives could I have saved in exchange for a mere two, his and my own? How many lives were ruined by my pride, by my refusal to see what was clear to all? And once again, pride has brought me low, for I believed myself stronger than Zhu Changzui, and arrogantly announced their plans for all to hear. How many more died because of my actions? Such pride, such sin...”
Though having trouble following along, I commit the Monk’s every word, inflection, and micro-expression to memory using my Natal Palace, so I can listen to it over and over again and pass it along without a single mistake. Shaking his head with a sigh, the Monk continues, “Devoted as I was, I could never truly adhere to the precepts or keep to the Eight-fold path. I’m sure the Abbot could see a path to take, a way to fix everything without death or violence, but again, my pride blinded me to it. Mahakala holds more seniority, so why was he not chosen as Abbot? Mentor, your Disciple is blind and is not worthy of your teachings, but I now see the wisdom behind your decision.” Fixing me with his steely gaze, he says, “Remember, Brother SanDukkha, no matter what trials or tribulations you may face, the Mother always leaves a path to salvation. Our world is imbalanced, and it is the Brotherhood who strive to fix it. No longer trapped by the cycle of samsara, itinerant souls seek to break through the barrier of existence and end it. If everything is in nihility then time and space become meaningless. An end to suffering yes, but an end to all else, the desperate last effort of the lost and destitute, Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo.”
...See, I understood all those words, but I have no idea what he just said. “Uh... Okay?”
“Learn from Mahakala’s mistakes,” the Monk insists, his steely grip crushing my hand. “Do not let pride and arrogance bring you low, as it has done for me. Trust in the Abbot, and trust in those around you. Remember my words, and act on them, whether you be SanDukkha, Falling Rain, or Baledagh.”
Closing his eye, Mahakala slumps back into the pillow and passes out, his breathing labored and nearing its last. We didn’t know each other well, but I trusted him, enough to share one of my deepest, darkest secrets with him. Is that what his warning was about? Trust those around me and tell them how thoroughly broken I really am? Easy to say, but if it was so easy to follow through, I’d have done it years ago instead of living a lie.
What am I doing? Deliberate later, we could still save the Monk. I have a tiny bit of Heavenly Energy, and while it’s not enough to heal him to full, maybe it’s enough keep him alive so Taduk can work his magic. Unfortunately, I'm unable to free myself from Mahakala’s iron grip, and since my Teacher promised not to listen in, all my yells for help go unnoticed. Knowing time is of the utmost importance, I'm left with a sinking sensation as I ponder a somewhat difficult decision to make.
In order to possibly save the Monk’s life, do I cut off his hand, or mine?
Chapter Meme