“It’s time to wake, oh husband mine. The night is dark and honour awaits.”

Knowing what would happen if he continued to laze about, Zian’s eyes snapped open at the sound of his concubine’s voice. Sweet and gentle though she might sound, Jing Fei was not one to pamper or indulge. The opposite, in fact, taking almost perverse delight in causing him minor suffering in a variety of ways, but truth be told, he rather enjoyed her twisted personality. It kept him sharp and on his guard which was exactly what he needed out here on the front lines, where death lurked in every shadow. Were he still the Situ Jia Zian of yesteryear, he would have exhausted himself fooling around with every pretty courtesan or serving girl who caught his eye, or worse, be left utterly frustrated and resentful due to enforced celibacy.

With Jing Fei however, things were different. A devilishly wicked woman, she knew exactly how to keep him focused and alert, never fully satisfying his needs yet granting him just enough tender affection so he wasn’t driven to distraction. Unaccustomed to this lack of control, Zian still wasn’t sure how Jing Fei held so much power over him, but it was a thrilling and novel experience. Despite her mastery of poisons, it wasn’t fear or love which compelled him to obey, but something else altogether, a feeling he couldn’t quite explain. While cautious of her motivations and enamoured by her character, her force of personality made him want to submit. He had no desire to grovel at her feet and cater to her every whim, but more often than not, he complied with whatever requests or suggestions she made without a second thought.

Mostly because she had yet to steer him wrong and he’d grown to trust her judgment, but also because with Jing Fei dealing with the political side of his life, it left him free to focus solely on his Martial Path. So long as he followed her instructions, he was confident she’d lead him back to glory, or at the very least, keep the hounds at bay long enough for him to become a force unto himself.

All this and more flashed though his mind as he watched her naked form slide out of bed. The dim lighting shrouded her flawless, pearly-white skin in obscuring shadow, but his mind filled in the gaps and left him ravenous for her touch. Sitting up, he wrapped his arm around her full waist and pulled her into his lap. Her feigned struggles only fuelled his ardour as he tasted her lips, savouring this minor victory despite knowing it’d been granted to him. The flames of passion burning bright, he nonetheless tempered his lust and reined himself in, pulling away from the kiss to gaze deep into her lovely brown eyes. Was it true affection he glimpsed in those limpid autumn pools or was he merely a means to an end? Did she regret tying herself to his sinking ship, or did she truly believe he would become a dragon among men?

Easily freeing herself with a touch of his wrist, Jing Fei smirked and said, “Well, it seems you’ve finally learned how to restrain yourself.” Her wide hips swaying from side to side, she slinked over to her wardrobe with slow, seductive movements seemingly meant to drive him to madness. “Pleased as I am by your progress,” she said, keeping her legs straight as she bent down to collect her clothes, “Perhaps you’ve grown tired of your pitiable concubine and set your sights on another woman. Is the accomplished and newly promoted Major Ryo Da’In now lurking in your dreams? Eldest Daughter of the illustrious Ryo Family, God-Daughter to the Sanguine Tempest Du Min Gyu, and now winner of the Legate’s Contest in the First Imperial Grand Conference, her value rises with each passing day. A tempting prize, no?”

With a throaty growl, Zian darted out of bed and pounced on her, but she was ready and waiting. Dropping to a crouch, his ‘naked and vulnerable’ concubine made a reverse sweep of her leg and knocked his feet out from under him. As he fell face first to the ground, he tucked his head and readied to roll to his feet, but Jing Fei slammed her knee into his belly, driving the breath from his lungs. Rolling him onto his back, she mounted his stomach and pinned his wrists back, her plump breasts swinging just out of reach. “And to think,” she purred, slowly wiggling her hips as she slid down his abdomen, “I only just commended you for your restraint. Oh well. I suppose a little fun wouldn’t hurt.” Leaning close, she pressed against him and whispered, “But not now.”

Driven to near madness, Zian broke free with a snarl but Jing Fei slipped away out of reach, leaving him dazed, breathless, and aching for her touch. Jumping to his feet, he reached for her as she moved past him back to the bed, but she Deflected his arm with a wave of her hand, a stark reminder her Martial prowess was almost equal to his own. Wholly unconcerned by his predatory gaze, she sat on the bed, posting her arms on either side as she leaned back, crossed her legs, and bared her chest, so full of confidence and sensuality she seemed like the most regal and imposing woman alive. Shaking her head like a disappointed tutor, she reprimanded him with a voice full of steel and fire. “I said not now. The Defiled are sure to attack any moment now and you’ll need your strength to fight. Though I know Situ Jia Zian is a dragon among men, you still must prove it to the world at large.” Using her foot to point at the wardrobe behind him, she fluttered her lashes and added, “Since you cannot be trusted, you’ll have to fetch my clothes and stand where I can keep an eye on you, oh husband mine.”

Damn it all. As much as he wanted to throw himself upon her and make her submit, Zian knew she was right. The Defiled attacks came like clockwork, every night once the moon began to wane, and to indulge in carnality now would be the height of stupidity. Taking deep breaths to cool his temper, he ran his fingers through his hair and locked eyes with his concubine. The signs were subtle, but they were there, a tensing around her double-lidded eyes, a tremor in her voice, a quiver in her breath, and a hitch in her gait, all this and more told him she wasn’t as calm and composed as she’d like him to think.

Most telling was how the cold air wicked away the glistening trail she left behind on his belly, her body betraying her desire for his touch. Taking solace and gaining confidence from this knowledge, he stood a little taller and smiled before turning to heed her wishes. A pair of skin-tight leather trousers laid on the floor where she dropped them, and the rest sat waiting in a neat, folded pile. With everything in hand, he approached his concubine with deliberate sluggishness to give her a taste of her own teasing, and his efforts paid off. Her gaze slipped for an instant to appreciate his naked, chiselled form, but she caught herself almost immediately. While she glowered at his smug expression, he could almost hear her inwardly cursing him for being too damned pretty.

Oh how he loved this woman...

Leaving Jing Fei to finish putting on makeup, Zian strode out into the torch-lit camp and made his way to the inner perimeter, where he found Jukai poring over a written missive. With a half-hearted salute, the old man spoke without waiting for permission, having all but abandoned the mannerisms of a subordinate. “Colonel Hongji enacted a number of changes to response protocol after you went to bed.” With an indignant huff, Jukai added, “About damned time too. These damned armchair commanders from Central have no experience fighting in an open field, but we’re supposed to listen to them because it’s their homes behind us. Absurd.”

Since he had yet to meet a commander whom Jukai approved of, Zian prudently kept silent and looked over the missive for himself. Though standing orders were still to hold the line until the Defiled were all dead or fleeing, the outer perimeter guards were to wait in darkness without torch or lamp, until such a time as an attack was underway. The reason became clear once Zian looked up and saw a field of torches, illuminating the two hundred metres of flat ground between the first line of defences and the edge of the tall grass. Any Defiled attackers would be easily spotted the moment they stepped out, while the perimeter guards remained shrouded in darkness.

Perhaps giving these orders made the Colonel feel like he was contributing, but Zian didn’t see the point. While this might deny the Enemy the ability to scout for weaknesses in the Imperial defences before committing to the attack, the Defiled could easily knock those torches aside while charging in and plunge both sides into darkness, where they were far more adept at fighting when compared to their Imperial counterparts. The darkness also provided ample cover for Wraiths to slip through, though even the sneakiest of Wraiths would find it difficult to remain unseen while crossing two hundred metres of open ground. While renowned for their stealth, Wraiths couldn’t turn invisible or pass through solid matter like the stories would have children believe. They were merely masters of Concealment, camouflage, and lurking in dark corners, but even the stealthiest Wraith would need something to hide behind.

Aside from this, once battle ensued, all officers in the field were now obligated to obey any officer identifying themselves using certain call-signs. The Colonel stressed every officer would remain in direct command of their own troops, but these new measures were in place to foster improved cooperation between units. He also stressed there would be harsh punishments for any commander found using any of these call-signs without permission, as each one corresponded to a specific Officer. While skimming through the list, one call-sign in particular made Zian’s stomach twist and he tried to convince himself it couldn’t be possible. It had to be someone else, he wasn’t even here, and even if he was, how could he have arrived without anyone noticing?

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The low, booming tones of the warning horns woke Zian from his stupor and his eyes turned to the perimeter. The tall grass rustled to and fro exposing the encroaching Enemy within, and Zian shouted, “We’re under attack!”

Echoing the call with his Chi-infused voice, Jukai bellowed, “On your feet you shirkers and layabouts! To arms!”

Double-timing it to the outer perimeter, he arrived in time to see the Defiled horde emerging from the tall grass, stopping at the edge to gather for a concentrated charge. “Get some light up here,” he snarled, after bumping into one of his soldiers, only to regret opening his mouth when he remembered his orders. “Belay that. Wait until the attack is underway. Is everything ready?”

“Yes sir,” one of his soldiers replied, though for the life of his, Zian couldn’t see who. “As per orders, the shuttered lanterns are lit and the braziers are waiting.” These preparations had all been outlined in the missive, but in his haste to approach, Zian had forgotten all about them. Curse Chen Hongji for waiting until evening to send his damned orders...

Pushing his way to the front, Zian positioned himself in the centre of his troops, all sixty-four who remained. Two weeks of constant battles had taken its toll as the Defiled hordes chipped away at Imperial strength. Though his soldiers dispatched dozens, if not hundreds of Defiled to join their fallen comrades in death, these were losses the Empire could ill-afford. Slowly but surely, the Defiled were grinding away at the Imperial strength, sacrificing near-mindless savages to kill well-trained soldiers, a poor trade if Zian ever saw one.

While lacking in skill, the Defiled were abundant in numbers, so much so they could afford to throw away their lives in these ineffective raids. Little more than blood-crazed lunatics, these Defiled were eager to see blood spilled, even the blood of their own. They were nothing like the efficient and disciplined Defiled of Sanshu, who wore full-plate armour and fought in orderly ranks. Instead, these savages eschewed armour for rags and steel weapons for sharpened bone, a sickly looking bunch whose exposed, desiccated skin bore a greyish tint. Rather than proper helmets, they wrapped their heads in strips of dried, human skin, though why Zian couldn’t begin to fathom, and their tactics were even more incomprehensible. Night after night, they congregated there on the field’s edge, massing their numbers before charging headlong into Imperial spears, heedless of their horrendous losses as they fought like rabid animals. Fighting them was like standing in the ocean to chop at the waves, for no matter how many corpses lay at his feet, there would always be another wave of Defiled cresting on the horizon.

After twenty days of this endless grind, even the most steadfast soldier was beginning to waver. Though Colonel Hongji did what he could to ensure units who saw combat were rotated out to rest, the ugly truth was this: they had far too much ground to cover and not enough warriors to hold it.

“Steady soldiers,” Zian said, leaving his sabres sheathed out of worry he might injure his neighbours. “Cool your tempers and swallow your pride, for though it is an affront to our honour to be matched against these filthy mongrels, such is our civic duty in these dull and unremarkable days. Chop wood, gather water, kill Defiled, it’s all the same.” His soldiers chuckled at the poor joke, more out of nervousness than anything else. Chaff though they might be, in great enough numbers, they could reduce even a mountain to rubble beneath their boots. Worse, where the Imperial Forces were forced to hold a wide, static line, the Defiled were free to break through at any point, bringing their forces to bear wherever they so pleased and leaving the Empire scrambling to defend.

Across the field, the Defiled horde grew in numbers as they crept closer to the Imperial lines, wary of the unknown and proceeding with more caution than in previous days. Already Colonel Hongji’s schemes were showing their worth, giving the Imperial forces more time to respond, but how long would this last?

The ground shook as the thunder of hooves sounded out behind him. Turning around, Zian battled with conflicting emotions as he spotted Rain. Riding atop his quin with bow in hand and rabbit banner billowing behind him, he lead fifty or so horsemen directly towards Zian’s retinue. Stopping about seventy meters back, they spread out and readied their crossbows, illuminated by the braziers behind them and in full view of the Defiled. To the north and south, the same scene unfolded except with quin-mounted archers instead, a sight which soured Zian’s mood even more. While he had less than seventy troops remaining, Rain commanded more than ten times that, the difference between them clear as day. As if this weren’t enough, a Sending soon arrived to confirm his earlier worries. “This is call-sign Undying,” the unfamiliar voice Sent, “Requesting Warrant Officer Zian leave room to his north for cavalry to charge through.” A pause. “You might also want to crouch down in case of stray arrows or whatnot. We’ll be firing over your head in ten, nine, eight...”

Thankful for the darkness which hid his ugly grimace, Zian hissed orders to close ranks and crouch, all the while wondering how Rain arrived at the front lines unnoticed. The man travelled with a giant turtle for Heaven’s sake, hardly the most inconspicuous officer around.

And then, there was no more time to gripe as Rain’s retinue unleashed a hail of bolts and arrows over Zian’s head. Then, before those bolts and arrows even hit, they unleashed a second wave of projectiles, and then a third. When the first wave of projectiles finally hit, the under-dressed Defiled let out a collective roar and charged, moving faster than half-dried corpses had any right to. “On your feet and light the braziers,” Zian commanded, flinching as he stood to receive his Enemy. Mother in Heaven, it sounded like the bolts were whizzing right by his ears, but he told himself it was only his imagination. Moments later, the braziers came to life and banished the darkness around him, revealing his retinue of solders standing between the Defiled and Rain’s horse archers. Rather than faltering at this unexpected sight, the Defiled howled as one and ran even faster, undeterred by the constant stream of bolts as they trampled over their fallen comrades, their eyes wild and mouths salivating at the prospect of battle.

Drawing his sabres, Zian watched without surprise as the Defiled smashed through the sharpened wooden stakes before him, knowing full well it would’ve done little to stop them. Several Defiled were wounded by the static defences in their rush to approach, but most continued onwards even with shafts poking clean through their bodies or guts hanging out. Praying Rain’s retinue knew well enough to stop firing, Zian raised his weapons and sounded the charge. “Forward! Death to the Ene -”

His voice disappeared as both sides met in a clash of steel and bone. Though he knew his soldiers were only a step behind and he had BoShui and Elder Bolin to either side, Zian felt like a man alone as the Defiled tide closed in around him, and then there was no time left to think. His sabres lashed out and took the lives of two Defiled in a shower of blood, the Honed edges cleaving through leather, skin, and skull with ease. After following through with the strike, he brought his sabres back around, Deflecting a bone spike aimed at his chest with the right and gutting the offending Defiled with the left. As his foe fell to his knees, Zian stepped around the body and pivoted sharply in place, spinning aside to avoid two clumsy chops which hammered into his fallen foe’s flesh. Shortly after, he beheaded both attackers with a single, horizontal slash, while killing a third with a thrust as the scoundrel downed one of Zian’s soldiers.

And still, the Defiled pressed on.

Weathering the first charge was always the hardest. The Defiled were fresh, eager, and hungry for blood while the Imperials were only warming up. However, once their momentum was spent, it then became a matter of killing the Defiled until the remainder fled, and most of Zian’s soldiers made it through the first encounter in good health. The fallen soldier was alive and well, grimacing as two others dragged him to the Healers to see to his head wound. Not all of the Defiled carried their unholy weapons and sharpened bone was little threat against steel plate armour, but this job was far from easy.

The seconds passed slowly and Zian quickly lost count of his kills. This was a match of endurance and little else, of physical stamina and mental fortitude, so he rationed whatever he could. No more sweeping attacks and flashy dodges, stick to the basics. Block and slash, parry and riposte, to spend any more effort killing this chaff is merely a waste. This battle will last long into the night, with hours of labour yet to come, so -

A peal of thunder sounded to Zian’s right and bodies sailed through the air. In his shock, it took a full second for him to register what was happening as the thunder continued to clatter around him. No, not thunder, but hoof-beats, the heavy cadence of Guo Nei Chargers stampeding through the gap between Zian’s and BoShui’s retinue to crash into the Defiled lines. Dozens of Defiled died in the blink of an eye, and then dozens more as Rain’s cavalry continued unhindered by the wall of flesh before them. Another wave of corpses was thrown into the air and this time, Zian spotted the cause as a gap in the line revealed a blood-soaked Rain in all his glory, smashing his spear left and right while sending bodies flying with every swing. Mouth covered in blood, the quin delivered its master from one group to the next, where Rain dispatched his foes with reckless abandon. With his full might behind every attack, it made for a splendid sight, but Zian knew his friend couldn’t keep it up for long.

Desperate to link up with the fool before his strength petered out in the middle of a Defiled horde, Zian bellowed, “Soldiers, warriors, clansmen. Forward, into the Enemy. Fight, damn you! Fight!” Discarding all thoughts of conservation, he fought like a man possessed to reach Rain’s side, matching the Enemy’s mindless ferocity as he carved through Defiled three or four at a time. Drawing his mind back from the present, he let his training take over, his hands and feet moving faster once he discarded rational thought in favour of raw instinct, keeping to the singular goal of rescuing Rain. Hack and slash, cleave and thrust, Zian twirled his sabres in a whirlwind of steel and death, wielded by a wrathful warrior who ended lives as easily as plucking apples.

And then, the Defiled broke.

It happened so quickly Zian was left standing with no one to fight, the Defiled bolting away into the night while Rain and his cavalry dispatched the stragglers. Careful not to overextend, Rain called his people back and linked up with Zian, grinning like a madman as he wiped Defiled blood from his eyes. “Shock and awe baby,” Rain shouted, cackling at the night’s sky. “Shock and awe. That’s how you kill Defiled. You’re a monster Zian, a killing machine. Shame you’ve got a line to hold and can’t join us.” Raising his bloody spear, he howled, “I haven’t killed enough. Have you?”

“FUCK NO!!”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Leading his fifty cavalry away, they fell into perfect formation before charging into a second cluster of Defiled, trampling some underhoof and sending others soaring into the night’s sky. Still gaping like a fish, Zian looked around and saw his retinue in similar states of disbelief, unsure how Rain’s reckless charge turned the Defiled from blood-crazed fools into craven cowards.

Mother in Heaven... Every time Zian took one step forward, it seemed like Rain jumped five steps ahead. Truly unfathomable...

Well... At least they weren’t enemies anymore, so there’s that.

Chapter Meme