Hammer meets anvil as Spiritual Weapon collides with Defiled club, and the results are predictable.
Amplified by my Keystone, a simple wave of my arm is enough to overpower my opponent. Though his weapon is nigh indestructible, his arms prove much less durable and break. Bone and muscle give way to steel and Chi as my Honed glaive smashes the club aside and lops my opponent’s head off at the neck, quick and neat like plucking a ripe peach from a branch. Ignoring the spray of blood, I follow through with the swing and score a second, messier kill, Unity biting deep into the shoulder of a second Defiled and emerging from his chest. Gaping in shock and disbelief, his surprise fades alongside the light from his unseeing eyes, but I don’t stick around to watch his corpse fall and instead urge Zabu towards to my next target.
Yawn.
It’s getting kinda boring and repetitive out here on the front lines. A terrible thing to say considering all the carnage and killing, but it’s the truth. Hack, slash, stab, and maybe block sometimes, there’s no real skill to 99% of what I do here. Most opponents die in a single hit, so I might as well be chopping firewood, assuming the firewood tried to chop back. Oh, and there were super strong pieces of firewood who looked no different from regular firewood who might take you by surprise. Err, and said firewood could mutate into a giant, face-eating monster at a moment’s notice. So really, nothing like chopping firewood at all, but still boring.
Then again, I’d rather be bored than dead, so there’s that.
After so much killing, I can hardly bring myself to care about taking faceless Defiled lives anymore. I probably should considering Mahakala said they could be saved, but he also said they have to want to be cured, and these murder-hobos don’t seem too keen on redemption. They may be sick and not entirely in control of their actions, but they also present a dire threat to me, my soldiers, my family, and the people of the Empire, a threat I cannot ignore. If the outer Walls still stood, then perhaps I could spare the time to give redemption a shot, but the Enemy has sown the seeds of conflict and now I must reap the harvest before we are overrun. It’s not heroic or grandiose, but the Defiled are a plague upon humanity, one well past the point of ‘contain and control’. Maybe the Abbot can offer an alternative solution, but until he deigns to poke his bald head out from where he’s hiding, then bloodshed is the only answer I’ve got.
Rather than sympathize with their plight, I kinda wish I had a more efficient way to kill the seemingly endless hordes of Defiled wandering the plains of Sinuji. Chariots and crossbows are a start, but they aren’t flashy or effective enough to overcome local stigma. Regardless, I asked Luo-Luo to continue production in hopes public opinion would shift, but thus far, the whole venture has been a black pit of coin and despair, to say nothing of newer, bigger, and unwieldier triple crossbows I had developed and left behind in SuiHua. One thing the Empire isn’t against is catapults, though I have yet to figure out why a rock lobber is acceptable while a bolt thrower is not. A few full-sized behemoths are already in place along the new Wall and there are still more to come, but Marshal Yuzhen has also been manufacturing a whole slew of miniature catapults, ones developed by Diyako and used by the traitorous Golden Highlands Coalition in their failed bid for Sanshu. They’re fairly complicated pieces of work which pack a hefty punch, especially considering their diminutive size, but they need four dedicated Martial Warriors to carry around, must be staked or held down when fired, and can be out-ranged by a great archer carrying a shockingly expensive bow like Sai Chou or Gansun. The mini-catapults still have two to three times the range of my crossbows, but they’re too unwieldy for use while out on patrol, much like the newer triple crossbows.
In other news, my bell-founder crafted and delivered three small-scale prototype cannons, but progress has stalled until my people can develop a non-flammable explosive. Then again, considering I don’t really know how gunpowder is made, even if I didn’t have to guard against fire-flinging Demons and Defiled, I wouldn’t have working cannons regardless. Apparently, not any old flammable propellant will do when trying to launch balls of iron a kilometre away, a lesson I learned at the cost of a butt-tonne of gold and one cannon prototype. Luckily, I’m rich and was prudent enough to set a long wick. Luo-Luo and our business partner Sung-Hoon had everything in place before cast iron soared in popularity, allowing us to reap enormous profits while our would-be rivals were still scrambling to get their infrastructure in place.
The profits are shrinking by the day as we fulfill our existing contracts and renegotiate new ones, but I’ve got a nice, fat nest egg to sit on, even after setting a big chunk aside to pay for death benefits.
While Luo-Luo also had a head start on manufacturing scented soaps, strap buckles, farming implements, and a few other choice items from my book, paper is easily the most popular new product outlined within, most likely because the Legate called it a ‘lucrative business industry’ in front of everyone in Nan Ping. It’s not even remotely lucrative, because it’s dirt cheap to get started and there are too many competitors, but paper is being used everywhere now, albeit not entirely in the ways I’d expected. Sure, paper permits and vouchers are seeing more use in the military, but the illiterate citizens of the Empire seem to be hard at work discovering new and inventive ways to use paper for anything besides its intended use. They’re wrapping food, covering windows, decorating walls, lighting pipes, and a billion other stupid things besides reading or writing. I suppose it’s because ink is still expensive, but everyone has charcoal which works almost as well, so I don’t get it. It’s like they don’t want to educate themselves and would rather they and their children remain ignorant until the end of time.
Maybe I’m being too judgmental. It’s only been a few months and change takes time, but I’m impatient and want things to change now. At least they aren’t using it to wipe their asses yet...
Parrying a reckless thrust which almost rips my face off, I inwardly sigh at my distraction while bashing the offender’s head in. A woman, judging by her desiccated and misshapen breasts, but there can be no chivalry when dealing with the Defiled. Besides, I’m an equal opportunity slaughterer. You try to kill me, then I’ll kill you first, regardless of age, gender, or race.
Unless you’re cute and floofy. Then I try and make friends before doing the choppy chop.
...Am I a terrible person for being more lenient to animals than I am to people?
...Nah. People suck.
Enough distraction. Even though you’ve split your focus and have half a brain on the battle, it’s a bad habit to get into. You kill in one hit, but you can also be killed the same way, so pay attention. You rode out with your heavy cavalry and quins to save... some guy whose name you forgot, so get to work.
Paying no heed to the fact that they’re pinned between my quins and XinYue’s cavalry, the Defiled continue to inflict heavy losses on our Imperial allies, who for some reason are all clumped up in the most inefficient group huddle ever instead of any semblance of a proper formation. Maybe it’s victim blaming or maybe the Defiled did something tricky, but I can’t help but feel like our allied commander doesn’t know what he’s doing.
I suppose I should end things before they all die.
Plus, I’m kinda tired. Chopping firewood isn’t complicated, but it still takes effort.
A simple thought is all it takes to draw the Spectres into the void, their shrieks and howls going unnoticed by all except the Defiled. As one, their eyes turn towards me and I roar in challenge, a cry taken up by my quin riders as we surge deeper into the stunned Enemy ranks. Though I know the Defiled are heeding their Spectral masters, to everyone else, it appears as if their nerve has broken as they flee before me, a pitched battle turned into full-blown rout without even a hint of warning. While the Defiled scatter in all directions to escape my gluttony, our allied forces watch on in muted disbelief as my mounted warriors run roughshod over the retreating Defiled, killing as easily as turning a hand once they’ve given up the fight. I’d much prefer if they all ran in the same direction, but they’re clever little cowards and there’s nothing I can really do to stop them short of bringing more people, so I continue drawing in the helpless Spectres and ignoring their empty offers and whispered lies while dreaming about all the wonderful Heavenly Energy they’ll soon become.
Still don’t know how to use it though, and Taduk was decidedly unhelpful with his instruction. ‘Use it as you would use Chi’, he says, except like Chi, my trapped Heavenly Energy dissipates the moment it leaves my body. I can pass it over to Taduk and he can use it, but otherwise, it’s more or less worthless, which is a real bummer.
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The power of creation in the palm of my hands, but me too stupid to use it. 10,000 IQ right here folks.
Having run out of Defiled to kill and wary of a possible ambush, I rally my riders and regroup with our allies. Bloodied and beaten, only two-hundred odd Imperial soldiers still remain, most of them standing in place sharing similar shell-shocked gazes, glancing around at the empty battlefield as if unable to believe their eyes. Since Orgaal and XinYue have things well in hand, I steer Zabu away from his disgusting meal of withered Defiled flesh and ride over to greet the survivors. “Hello,” I say, stopping Zabu as the soldiers kneel and salute. God, I hope Zabu was eating a Defiled and not a soldier. “This one is Warrant Officer Second Grade Falling Rain. Please rise.” Fuck, I wish I remembered their commander’s name. This will probably ruffle some feathers but... “Could I speak with the officer in charge?”
A flurry of traded glances ensues as the soldiers engage in a silent exchange, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think none of them wanted to talk with me. A little rude considering I saved their lives, but I suppose they might not see it that way. Prideful, arrogant little shits who think they’re the Mother’s Chosen Son are probably a dime a dozen in the Imperial Army, though this is the first one I’ve personally encountered. All the other patrols I’ve helped were suitably grateful, but my luck had to run out eventually.
After a long minute of hemming and prodding, a young soldier finally steps out from the crowd and salutes, her helmet in hand and shoulder bleeding profusely as she offers a courtly bow. “This lowly one is surnamed Situ, first name Ji Yeon. We thank Imperial Consort for his timely assistance. The Defiled rarely break in battle, but it seems Imperial Consort’s reputation precedes him.”
The name brings me back to a simpler time, an eternity ago when I crouched in front a lovely young woman and threatened her for information about a bounty on my head. “Er... Small world. I see the Situ Clan has produced another young prodigy, Miss Ji Yeon.” I’m not blowing smoke up her ass. She can’t be much older than I am, yet she already has a thousand-man retinue. It might sound conceited to say, but that’s an impressive accomplishment for someone so young. Zian doesn’t even have a thousand-man retinue, and he’s twenty-five.
Then again, so are Tenjin and Tursinai, so maybe Zian isn’t as talented as I was led to believe...
Unfortunately, as per usual, it seems I’ve misread the situation. Bowing even lower, Ji Yeon cringes and replies, “A thousand apologies for misleading Imperial Consort. This lowly one dare not call herself a prodigy, for she is merely a talentless soldier without rank. This lowly one holds command by virtue of status, not rank or seniority.”
“Oh.” This is awkward. I probably should’ve realized it when she introduced herself with no rank or title. “Your commanding officer fell in battle?”
Contempt ripples through the crowd at the question, some faces twisted in anger as others spit in disgust. Still bowed, Ji Yeon’s voice is dry and cutting as she says, “Seeing the superior forces arrayed against us, Senior Captain Situ Ji Jing brought Situ Gulong and their retainers to seek out reinforcements before the battle began.”
I guess Ji Jing didn’t like the odds so he cut and ran, leaving Ji Yeon and company to cover their retreat. Diplomatically choosing not to continue along this line of conversation, I clear my throat and move on to more important matters. “Well, the battle is won and over with. I see you have many wounded and close to death, but my Healers are still a quarter hour away. With your permission, I have several soldiers trained in battlefield medical care. Mundane treatments, but they’ll help keep your people alive until my Healers arrive.”
Finally straightening up, Ji Yeon blinks in surprise before nodding like a chicken pecking grains, uttering her thanks and gratitude as I call my medics over. Dismounting to lend a hand, I organize an impromptu field hospital a little ways away from the battlefield, though some wounds need treatment right next to the corpses. Infection shouldn’t be too much of an issue for Martial Warriors, but even then, it’s not a pleasant experience. The Society forces took a real pummelling at the hands of the Defiled, with amputations, gut wounds, and cracked skulls aplenty among the survivors. By the time Jigari and Abjiya arrive, I’m up to my elbows in caked blood, but none of the wounded have died, so I’d call it a job well done, despite Abjiya’s scathing glare for intruding upon her domain.
C’mon now. What was I supposed to do, stand there and watch people bleed to death?
Having stayed close throughout the ordeal, Ji Yeon continues to bow and scrape until I straight up ask her to stop. “So what will you do now?” I ask. “Return to SuiHua?” Which means I’ll have a big open flank to the north with no one to guard it. Not the best news for our first day out on patrol.
“Apologies Imperial Consort, but this lowly one’s hands are tied.” Telling her to dispense with formalities was next to useless, but at least she’s standing upright. “This lowly one lacks the rank to command so many soldiers, so we must return to seek orders.”
“It’s fine. At least I’ll know.” I should send someone to inform whoever is north of us too. “If you hurry, you can make it back to Sinuji before nightfall, but I’ll keep a screen of scouts to guard your rear and see you safely there.” It won’t do much if the Defiled return in force, but at least they’ll have advanced warning before they die.
“This lowly one is grateful for Imperial Consort’s aid.” Studying me as if I’d suddenly sprouted wings, Ji Yeon continues, “If this lowly one may be so bold as to say, but... Imperial Consort has changed in the years since our paths first crossed.” With a wry smile, she adds, “This time, Imperial Consort didn’t charge for his services. It may not mean much, but you have my, Situ Ji Yeon’s heartfelt gratitude.”
Cheeks heating at the reminder, I look away to hide my shame. “No need for thanks or gratitude. The Enemy seeks to destroy the Empire, so we must stand united, or fall divided.” Hoping I don’t offend her, I add, “I know little about Ji Jing or Gulong, but Situ Jia Zian is a man I’m proud to fight alongside.”
I’m not the only one who’s changed. No longer the mousy little coward I remember, Ji Yeon’s dark eyes are filled with promised vengeance as she glances eastward. “Imperial Consort’s advice is... appreciated, but some things are out of this lowly one’s hands. Ji Jing is this lowly one’s older brother and Gulong her betrothed, so her future is tied to both, for now.”
“My condolences.” Don’t offer to help, this is family politics and that shit is messed up. Besides, I can’t imagine her brother and betrothed would leave her to die for no reason, which means I should butt out.
Heeding my own advice, I keep the conversation light until its time for them to leave, tasking Jorani to escort the Society forces away and Orgaal to inform whoever’s patrolling to the north before we head back to our assigned route. The rest of the day passes by without incident, and after a dinner of dried fish and preserved vegetables, I lounge beside Ping Ping and watch Song playing with Mama Bun and Blackjack. Not watching in a creepy, perverted way, mind you, but she has first watch and I have the night off, so this is the only time she can play with them and I have nothing better to do. It goes against all my instincts, but I try my best not to lewd the sexy cat-girl, no matter how kind, loving, or gorgeous she might be. I have three beautiful betrotheds and a concubine which should be more than enough for any man. Granted, I’ve only slept with Yan, but sex isn’t all there is to love and intimacy. Also, Luo-Luo has been kinda cold and distant lately, though I’m probably at fault for giving her too much work. I mean, she hasn’t even had time to play music for the cattle, which I was looking forward to, but all in good time.
Her head resting in the dirt, Ping Ping’s eyes shine with amusement as I sing her silly songs, relaxed as can be while Roc’s flock settles in atop her shell. Back in SuiHua, on those rare nights when Yan wasn’t in the mood for canoodling, I’d sleep out in the courtyard nestled in Ping Ping’s embrace, her cool, supple skin great comfort on the hottest summer nights. She’s a big sweetheart and I wish she were small enough to cuddle, but I suppose I’ll have to wait until she reaches Divinity and turns into a tiny turtle like Pong Pong, assuming it happens in my lifetime. She’s been around Ping Yao for hundreds if not thousands of years, but it seems like she’s stuck on that last step. I considered speeding things along by sharing my Heavenly Energy with the big girl, but Taduk convinced me not to. Being given Heavenly Energy is not the same as learning to manipulate raw Heavenly Energy, so if Ping Ping starts transforming and I don’t have enough to fuel the process, then she might get stuck halfway and die or worse.
Then again, things might work out. Who knows. It’s difficult to quantify something without substance, so even though the wooden goblet sitting atop Baledagh’s nightstand is still the same size, it now holds many times more Heavenly Energy than it did when I crafted it. Two months in Sinuji netted me tens of thousands of Spectres and a month in SuiHua saw plenty of hitchhikers attached to soldiers coming back from the front lines. Who’s to say how much is needed to turn Ping Ping into a pocket monster? Either way, experimentation will have to wait until after Taduk Heals Mom back to the peak of health.
I can hardly wait to see her walking around again. She tries not to let it show, but Mom is super self-conscious about her current condition, especially around Dad. Will I feel the same way when I’m eighty and hunch-backed while Lin, Mila, and Yan are all still in their prime?
Still, aside from those first Spectres after she woke from her coma, Mom’s shown no signs of depression, supernatural or otherwise. One strange thing I noticed was that the labourers and slaves working on the Wall didn’t have many Spectres hanging about them either. What’s more, throughout the entire month, I didn’t see a single newborn ghostie spawn from them or anyone else passing through SuiHua. I only have Jorani and Awdar to go by, but both were near suicidal when they birthed their Spectres, so it probably means it takes more than suffering to attract or produce them. It lends credence to my theory that the Canston Trading Group was purposely trying to produce Spectres among their slaves, because plain old misery and adversity is not enough; they needed slaves who were hopeless and suicidal, hence all the torment and hardship.
Question is: why? I thought their Spectre farming might have something to do with the production of Anathema, but there’s nothing distinguishing about a newborn Spectre. From what I’ve seen, the other Spectres don’t treat newborn ones any differently. They all lie, scheme and melt in Spiritual Water all the same, so why go to so much trouble? Maybe the Legate discovered something from all the merchants he captured, but from what little Yuzhen knows, the higher ups from the Canston Trading Group either escaped beforehand, died fighting, or committed suicide. Mysteries upon mysteries, but I’m in no position to investigate. Ask one wrong question and I could tip the Legate off to my indiscretions or worse, about my one-time possession of an Elemental Spirit.
I miss Blobby... things were so much easier when he was around. For starters, he was an infinite source of Spiritual Water and could wipe out Spectres as I gathered them. Now I’ve gotta deal with their tricksy temptations while out on patrol and spend an hour meditating in a cold bath every day I’m in camp just to deal with the Spectre backlog. I have a fair bit of Spiritual Water saved up in my Natal Palace, but I’m keeping it for practice and emergencies, like if a Demon bleeds all over one of my Experts or the Defiled start carrying Anathema. Hell, I’m not even sure my Spiritual Water can even counter either of those things, but if it does, I should come up with an excuse beforehand. I can’t imagine all Water Blessed individuals are the bane of Demon Ichor, and while it wasn’t a big deal before when it was just people I could trust, with XinYue and Junior Yimu hanging around, I need to be more careful with my secrets.
So how to explain my need to vomit water all over an Ichor-covered warrior?
...
It occurs to me that my life may be the butt of some phenomenal, cosmic joke. Why else would my greatest Talents be Succ and Spew?
It’s so funny, I could almost cry.
Chapter Meme