“I don’t get it. It’s been an entire month since I was sentenced, so why isn’t anyone talking about my plight?”

Unable to meet Falling Rain’s anxious gaze, Nian Zu absently stroked his beard while staring into his cup, unconsciously seeking the answer in the tea leaves floating within. Not that he believed those charlatan fortune tellers who claimed they could divine Heaven’s Will from the patterns left in the world, whether it be through reading tea leaves, palms, faces, or fallen sticks, but alas, how else was he supposed to answer the boy’s question?

By all rights, the bars and whorehouses of the Empire should have been bristling with gossip over the injustice directed towards their former Number One Talent, but sadly, the public’s respect and adoration was short-lived. Out of sight and out of mind, few cared to comment on Falling Rain’s situation and cared even less about whether his punishment was warranted or his penance just. Granted, the boy wasn’t talking about public opinion as his question was directed towards a more specific subset of Imperial citizens, respectively those like Nian Zu himself who had the power to help the boy out of this quandary. Worse, the boy only believed Nian Zu’s peers would help him because Nian Zu himself had assured it, for the Disciplinary Corps’ blatant abuse of power went well past the Imperial Army’s bottom line. Justicars were meant to be the impartial mediators of the Imperial Army, but if a hero such as Falling Rain couldn’t secure fair judgment, what hope did a common soldier have of receiving it? If they couldn’t trust in the Justicars, soldiers would be pressured to take ‘justice’ into their own hands and chaos would soon follow.

How could the Justicars be so short-sighted as to not see this was a disaster in the making? And worse, Nian Zu feared there was more to come, for Falling Rain was still sitting pretty on the front lines and garnering support faster than he would have ever believed. Deflating with a sigh, Nian Zu felt his hundred years weighing heavily upon his weary shoulders, and not for the first time. “I don’t know,” he said, sounding as helpless as he felt. “By all rights, there should be a line of Generals waiting to speak with the Legate regarding this outrage, but thus far, none care to even try. Officially, every report and message I’ve sent has been received and responded to, yet they make no promises and take no actions. My peers sit silent while the Legate twiddles his thumbs and delays instead of publicly supporting his subordinate. It’s clear as day that keeping you and your people here on the front lines is a waste of valuable resources, but famed Colonel Generals around the Empire would rather kowtow to a corrupt Disciplinary Corps than stand against injustice. I understand Mitsue Juichi’s silence, but what of Shuai Jiao and Ryo Dae Jung? They spoke up for your ally Colonel Hongji after the last fiasco in Sinuji, but now they tuck tail and turn their heads when they should be loudest. What of the Colonel Generals of the South? As I understand things, they are subservient to their Marshal, but Yuzhen tells me you’ve made many a trade deal with Marshal Quyen Huong and continue to work with him even now, so why will he not allow his Colonel Generals to speak in your favour?”

“If only I knew...”

Seeing Rain’s defeated expression, Nian Zu swallowed his pride and patted the boy’s shoulder ever so gently, worried the unfamiliar action might accidentally injure his gaunt and crippled frame. “I’m sorry, boy. This old man’s word no longer holds the same weight it did in past years, else I wager you’d have been back in the citadel a week ago.”

A point which had been repeatedly made clear ever since new year’s day passed and he turned a hundred years old. At ninety-nine, Nian Zu stood at the forefront of his peers, a Warrior who could guarantee victory or at least a draw in one of three matches should a dispute ever come to trial by combat, but now he was less than nothing, a mere ant to be crushed by ancient half-beasts and monstrous elders like the Abbot sitting at the table with them. ‘All things are impermanent,’ Nian Zu could almost hear the wizened, presumed Divinity say, ‘Strength and fame are no different.’

Faced with this news, a lesser man might have succumbed to anger or despair, but Rain pushed past his misgivings and gave a wry but amiable smile. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. This isn’t your fault,” he said, seeking to console Nian Zu even as he was being consoled. “You’ve already put your life and career on the line to even be here to protect me, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that others are distancing themselves.”

Untrue, but the boy didn’t know it. Since Nian Zu’s part in Sinuji was one of neutral observer, his career would be unaffected by his actions here, and even then he’d only agreed to do so at Yuzhen’s behest. He still had yet to reveal all the tiles concealed in his hand and had been reluctant to do so on Rain’s behalf, but after a month of keeping the boy company in Sinuji, he was ready to call in every chit he had to keep Rain alive, and this time for reasons all of his own. The boy’s bright smile being one of them, possessed with a boyish delight which Nian Zu wouldn’t have expected to find in a young Martial Warrior like Rain. Most men his age would do everything in their power to seem stoic, independent, and mature so as to be taken seriously by their elders, but not Rain. Instead, he cuddled and frolicked with his pets in plain sight and was all too happy to lean on his women for aid, adapting to his crippled lifestyle with minimal discontent. His willingness to show weakness and nonchalant displays of intimacy undoubtedly played a great part in why so many women flocked to his side, as even Nian Zu was almost charmed by his uncharacteristic warmth, empathy, and affection, a rare combination of virtues in their shared profession.

And make no mistake, crippled or otherwise, Falling Rain was a warrior born, which made it all the more infuriating to see his talents wasted here in Sinuji. “I’ll make the others see,” Nian Zu growled, putting his teacup down before he accidentally crushed it in frustration. “And if they refuse, then I’ll bring you back to the citadel myself and demand the Legate make things right. Old and worn this old dog might be, but the Empire will soon learn he still has teeth.”

“No need to make a big fuss about it.” Refilling Nian Zu’s teacup and then the Abbot’s in gross disregard of proper manners, Rain shrugged and said, “As much as I’d like to go home and see my family, the truth is, they’re safer with me here. Besides, excluding travel time, we’ve been on the front lines for thirty-two days now, which is more than half my old record and longer than most normal soldiers would serve without respite. The longer we’re here, the more public opinion will sway in our favour, for then the Disciplinary Corps’ abuse of power will be clear to all. Even slaves and faceless soldiers like myself deserve time off, if only to keep the Father from sinking his clawed fingers into our souls and we become a danger to all around us.”

There was a hint of mockery in the boy’s tone which Nian Zu had grown accustomed to hearing whenever he spoke of such matters, but as a man who rarely acknowledged the theological aspects of life, Nian Zu left it to the frowning Abbot to sort the boy out later. Still, as a publicly acclaimed Chosen Son of the Mother and attendant to the Guardian Turtle, his blatant scorn of religion would only alienate his most die-hard supporters, but Nian Zu suspected Rain wasn’t one to play politics.

Flashing his charming smile once again, Rain added, “On the bright side, at least now we know we can’t count on your peers, for the ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.”

Wise words unbefitting of a man only twenty years of age, but Falling Rain was hardly a typical man, one who’d endured more challenge and controversy in his twenty years than most would over their entire lives. After bidding the boy farewell and leaving him to argue with the Abbot, Nian Zu retired to his tent for the night and reflected on his memories, marvelling at how only three years ago, that same boy had stood before him as a promising young warrior, scrawny and exhausted but looking none the worse for wear after his victory over the Society. Oh how Rain gleefully extorted Jia Ying and Jia Yang for a veritable fortune before agreeing to spare young Zian’s life, and it had been a delight to see the sharp and troublesome woman squirm in her seat, truly a sight to behold. Memorable as the entire event might have been, it paled in comparison to what occurred only a few minutes before the negotiations began, but even after all this time, Nian Zu still didn’t know what to make of it all.

At the time, it was clear Falling Rain lacked an Aura of his own, and Nian Zu would’ve felt it if Akanai, Baatar, or some hidden Expert exerted theirs to protect him, yet somehow, alone and unaided, the boy weathered the effects of Nian Zu’s Aura and even drew his weapons to defend himself. How had the boy done it? The question had plagued Nian Zu for years now, but he was no closer to an answer now than he had been then. Throughout his career, he’d seen brave, stalwart soldiers and crazed, suicidal berserkers alike freeze up when confronted with Aura, yet this boy, barely more than a child dressed in a uniform too large for his gangly frame, stood tall where other Warriors fell short. The boy clearly felt the effects, body quivering like a leaf in a windstorm before Nian Zu’s imposing might and barely able to even stand straight, but stand he did. He even drew his weapons and took a stance, his eyes telling different story from his trembling frame, one of a man ready to sell his life dearly and go down fighting to his last breath.

Small wonder Rain could fight through the effects of Jia Zian’s Aura and emerge victorious against the arguably better Martial Warrior.

Rain’s ability to counteract the effects of Aura without one of his own defied logic and comprehension, but the same could be said about many of the boy’s accomplishments. Who would have thought a freshly ranked Warrant Officer sent to hunt bandits in Sanshu would uncover the greatest Defiled uprising in the past hundred years? Had Yo Ling’s hand not been forced, his scheme to take over Sanshu through his cats-paws, the Golden Highland Coalition, might well have succeeded, and Nian Zu shuddered to think of the consequences. The Fragrant Rice River of Sanshu was aptly named, for almost half of the province’s rice was grown along its shores, and if it had fallen into Yo Ling’s hands, then the North would be in dire straits indeed. In Nian Zu’s experience, well-fed soldiers would march into the Father’s Maw itself if led by the right commander, but starving soldiers wouldn’t salute the Emperor Himself if He appeared to lead them in person.

Uncovering Yo Ling’s plot was only the first of Rain’s resounding accomplishments, and most read like they’d been written by a drunk playwright. While taking part in the Purge, he drove the Bloody Priestess mad and forced her to break Imperial Law and capture him, only to escape with help from his fellow Warrant Officers to emerge unscathed. Then, with help from Sanshu native Chu Xinyue, Rain slipped into the besieged city while the rest of Yuzhen’s army were delayed by the Defiled force arranged as a smokescreen to hide the true conflict happening inside the walls. Once there, Rain was given temporary command of a thousand men and led them to slaughter a Defiled flanking force twice their number, while suffering casualties numbering in the single digits. Then, to top it all off, he was instrumental in Yo Ling’s death, distracting the near victorious Defiled bandit long enough for Liu Shi, Yo Ling’s brother, rival, and leader of the Crossbone Corsairs, to sneak up behind him and deal a killing blow.

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And all this was merely what happened in Sanshu. Afterwards, he tamed the Guardian Turtle of Ping Yao, fought and won twenty plus duels during his first day in Nan Ping, defeated Ryo Seoyoon, Quyen Dienne, and Wu Gam in a single elimination tournament onstage in front of the greatest audience the Empire had ever seen, and was crowned Number One Talent in the Empire by the Legate himself. As if that wasn’t enough, it was soon revealed that because of his talents, the Legate had also seen fit to bestow Rain with Imperial Peerage, making him the first ever outsider to become a part of the Imperial Clan without marrying in. Lowly though the title of Imperial Consort might be, technically even a Colonel General like Nian Zu himself now stood below Rain in status, though in practice, things didn’t work out in the boy’s favour. In the end, the Imperial Clan was respected for their strength, and even as Number One Talent in the Empire, Rain hardly had enough strength to be recognized as a true Imperial Talent.

Or at least, that’s what most believed, even Nian Zu himself, right up until he read the reports detailing the grand battle in Sinuji. Falling Rain against the Emissary Gen, two young Experts far beyond their peers yet diametrically opposed from the moment they first met, it reeked of a ham-fisted conflict made explicitly so the hero would have a villain to overcome and defeat, yet in the end, the hero fell and the villain emerged victorious. With his Spiritual Weapons broken and Core shattered, everyone present in Sinuji had expected Falling Rain to breathe his last on the bloodied fields outside these walls, but in front of tens of thousands of doubting eyes, he instead exhibited the power of not just a mere Peak Expert, but one standing upon the cusp of Divinity itself as he threw back his hated foe and sent the Defiled army fleeing from the field. Mother knows how many times Nian Zu pored over Han BoShui’s dramatic retelling of the events, and he was even looking forward to a rumoured play in production, but alas, disaster struck before those plans came to fruition, thanks to the meddling of some vile, oversexed brat hell-bent on stealing away Rain’s consort.

Yang Jixing was nothing without his father, an entitled little shit who wielded the power of the Disciplinary Corps for his own nefarious purposes, yet the strange thing was, no one cared to call the boy out on it. It was utterly infuriating, because Jixing’s actions were so blatantly unethical Nian Zu wholeheartedly believed the public outrage would’ve ended the whole debacle before Rain even arrived in Sinuji, yet here they were almost four weeks later and still the Legate had yet to act. Falling Rain’s heroics should have earned him enough goodwill to live out the rest of his days in peace and happiness, perhaps returning to the North to raise his pets and father a clutch of disappointing children as men like him were wont to do, but instead, the poor, crippled boy was here suffering on the front lines while his comrades fought desperately to keep him and themselves alive.

And what comrades they were. In all his time as a commander of soldiers, Nian Zu had never seen a group so talented as the ones gathered in Rain’s retinue. Dastan Zhandos and Sahb were only the most notable of the bunch, a pair of dupes turned slaves due to minimal fault of their own, yet even if they were unrepentant traitors against the Empire, so long as they had not turned against the Mother and the Heavens, then they were too talented to be wasted. Twenty-four year old Domain-Developed Experts were rare no matter the background or upbringing, as even Imperial Scions were considered talented for becoming regular Experts at twenty-five, though propaganda painted Imperial Scions as a notch or two above their peers in the rest of the Empire. Dastan and Sahb had surpassed this twenty-five year mark by a fair margin and even Developed their Domains while most of their peers had yet to even Condense an Aura, so were it not for their parents picking the wrong horse to back, these two young men would be the heroes and role models of children all around the Empire.

Then there were the other enslaved survivors of Dastan’s former retinue, twelve men and one woman who’d fought hundreds of battles against the Defiled and emerged largely intact. Were they standard soldiers, Nian Zu would have given each and every one of them their own command in hopes that they would instill their troops with the same courage and determination they exhibited on the walls of Sinuji, not to mention done everything he could to uncover the secret to their strength. Dastan and Sahb aside, six out of the remaining thirteen soldiers were now Experts of the Empire, only recently Forming their Natal Palace in the last four weeks, an accomplishment which left Nian Zu reeling in disbelief.

Supposedly this was all due to Rain and the Abbot’s guidance, but Nian Zu believed it had more to do with their efforts on the battlefield, fighting three, four, sometimes even up to six hours on the wall with only intermittent breaks to tend to their bodily needs. These rapid improvements were not limited to Dastan’s bunch either as Akanai’s daughter, Li Song, was progressing by leaps and bounds, seemingly on the cusp of Condensing her Aura after accompanying Rain during every battle in the past month. What’s more, despite their minimal time spent stuck in hand to hand combat, many soldiers of Rain’s former retinue were also developing at a breakneck pace, no doubt instigated by their collective desire to help their beloved leader in his time of great need. Though Nian Zu didn’t know their names, he’d been impressed by many a Khishig seen sparring on the training field, most notably a half-wolf youngster who always had two half-bear lovers hanging nearby and an alarmingly stealthy dark-skinned scout who Nian Zu suspected was using him to train his skills. Twice now, the foul brigand had managed to sneak up unnoticed while delivering messages from Rain, and according to Nian Zu’s guards, the scout passed by his tent at night far too many times for it to be a simple coincidence.

There were others Nian Zu had marked to watch, like a pair of hammer wielding half-bulls whose weapons were masterfully crafted works of art, a seemingly noble born warrior who transformed into a battle-axe-wielding maniac in the heat of combat, a jovial, half-dog giant who followed a compact half-dog woman around like a puppy, and a group of former soldiers including the dark-skinned scout who spent much of their time dicing and gambling, yet still commanded respect from the warriors around them. So many promising talents, there were far too many to list in whole, but Nian Zu was curious to know how Falling Rain had gathered so many beneath his banner. Though the majority of the Khishigs under Major Alsantset were Bekhai born, most of Rain’s former retinue were not. Some were former bandits of Sanshu, including a number of infamous leaders with considerable bounties before being absolved of their crimes by Magistrate Chu Tongzu. Others belonged to the Protectorate, the self-proclaimed defenders of the Guardian Turtle, and while their appearances left much to be desired, they were a formidable and hardy bunch who put their hunting skills to good use on the battlefield, killing with blade and longbow alike. Then there were the former soldiers the boy had taken in at Shen Huo, the supposed slaves he allegedly rescued from Yo Ling’s hidden base who fought like fearless elites on the battlefield, and to round it all out, Rain even had a cadre of highly trained stealth guardians of indeterminate origin protecting him at all times.

One look was enough for Nian Zu to tell they weren’t Bekhai trained, because if they were then he would’ve never spotted them, but even then he was highly impressed with what he saw. A shame Rain refused to tell him where they were trained, because Nian Zu would have loved to win over a faction who could spare more than a dozen Experts dedicated enough to stand guard over a crippled youth, and with frightening commitment to boot. While off-duty, Nian Zu had spotted more than one of those shadowy protectors watching Rain with fervent devotion bordering on outright reverence, marking them as faithful devotees of the Mother who were all too happy to serve Her Chosen Son.

Religious zealots were something of a double-edged sword, which was why Nian Zu approved of the Abbot’s presence beside the boy, but despite having the highest ranking monk of the Penitent Brotherhood at his side, a bevy of devotees shadowing his every move, and the Guardian Turtle literally at his beck and call, Rain had yet to show a single speck of religious piety towards the Mother Above. Truly a difficult child to work with, but a promising one nonetheless, because even if he never recovered to become a Martial Warrior once again, he could still serve as a figurehead for devotees around the Empire, an accomplished merchant, inventor, and future Lieutenant Marshal, or even as a talented teacher if the success of Dastan and his retinue could truly be attributed to Rain’s guidance.

Though still hale and healthy enough to fight for hours without rest, at Nian Zu’s age, falling asleep was a more difficult process than he liked to admit. He spent most of his nights in quiet meditation, seeking Insight from the Heavens not in hopes of breaking through to Divinity, but rather scouring his thoughts for clues on how to progress along the Martial Path. Peak Expert he might be, but there was a vast difference between Warriors like himself, Du Min Gyu, and even the famed Shuai Jiao of Central, compared to the lofty beings at Rain’s side, like the Abbot, Ascendant GangShu, and Smiling Slaughterer Guan Suo. The lack of knowledge was worse than being stuck and unable to proceed, but Nian Zu never let past failures get in the way of future successes, so he continued to persevere despite the complete lack of hope.

When he finally fell asleep, it was long past midnight, but the sun had yet to rise before he opened his eyes once again, feeling refreshed as he ever felt these days. Ignoring the aches and creaks of his aged body, he got dressed and shuffled out his tent for an early breakfast before heading off to the sparring fields to see what budding talent might catch his eye today. The Defiled attacks had grown somewhat lacklustre of late, which in part attributed to the one-hundred percent survival rate of Dastan and his comrades, but even then, few soldiers cared to waste energy on spars while serving on the front lines. Not so with the Khishigs, for they showed up in droves day in and day out regardless of weather or circumstances. To the Bekhai, the Martial Path was less about being a soldier or warrior, but rather a way of life, and considering he still had yet to see through the depths of the Bekhai’s strength, it would seem this mindset served them well.

The field was understandably empty when he first arrived, as it was still too dark to see without torchlight. As the sun rose, so too did the soldiers of Sinuji, and the first visitor to the field was a familiar face, GangShu’s half-rat child and infamous bandit of Sanshu, Hangman Jorani. Strange for a bandit to be so disciplined, but Nian Zu knew it suited young Jorani well, another recently advanced Expert whose progress was nothing short of astounding. Next to arrive were Li Song and Rustram, and the unlikely pair set to sparring with barely a word as the outmatched former soldier put up a good fight against the half-cat’s flashing sabre and consummate skills. More Khishigs trickled in by ones and twos, and Nian Zu idled away his time watching the next generation of talents hone their abilities, much like other men his age liked to watch birds and other wildlife.

Such was life for Situ Nian Zu these days, a man without close friends or loving family to distract him. A boon throughout his long career as a soldier serving in exile from Clan and Society, but during these cold, lonely days, he sometimes dreamed about what might have been if things had gone differently in his youth. What if he had swallowed his pride, taken a wife, and fathered a child of his own? What would his son or daughter be like now? Or what if he and DuYi had possessed the courage and resolve to admit their love to the world at large? It would’ve meant the end of both their careers for certain since it went against the ‘filial values’ the Empire held in such high esteem, as nothing could be more unfilial than refusing to propagate the family line, but there were enough of these cut-sleeve relationships going on in secret amongst civilians and nobility that one more wouldn’t be anything of note.

Suppressing a sigh, he moved to leave and check in on the incompetent Lieutenant Colonel Mitsue Watanabe, but paused his steps as he noticed a commotion on the sparring field. Falling Rain had arrived to greet his men and cheer them on from the side, but the clamour wasn’t because of his presence, but rather due to the beauty beside him. Dressed in Khishig leathers which clung tightly to her voluptuous body, even Nian Zu had to admit Consort Zheng Luo made for an appealing sight, and to the sex-starved soldiers of Sinuji, one almost too tantalizing to resist.

With her Spiritual Weapon in hand, Consort Zheng Luo took the field to spar against yet another beauty, Baatar’s half-tiger daughter Alsantset, and Nian Zu almost left in a huff. He’d seen Zheng Luo Demonstrate the Forms, and to his trained eye, her movements were all style without substance, more dance than drill and wholly useless to a true Warrior. Not surprising since she’d been trained as an Imperial Servant rather than a Royal Guardian or Death Corps soldier, so Nian Zu was confused as to why Baatar’s daughter would waste so much time guiding a mere consort over the past few weeks, especially one responsible for Falling Rain’s current political woes.

Curiosity winning over disdain, Nian Zu decided to stick around a little longer to watch their match. Fashioned out of glossy, dark obsidian like so many of the Bekhai’s newer Spiritual Weapons, Zheng Luo’s sceptre was much like herself, pretty to look at but largely useless, too long in the haft and almost too heavy for the Imperial Consort’s trembling arms. A pretty face carrying a pretty weapon, it was no mystery why the soldiers gathered in droves to watch her spar, especially when her opponent was an exotic beauty herself, but that was all.

Or so Nian Zu thought, right up until Alsantset and Zheng Luo’s first exchange, at which point he had to admit that perhaps there might be more to the ‘propaganda’ attesting to Imperial superiority than he previously thought. How had he not seen the girl’s potential before this? With age came supposed wisdom, but in truth, Nian Zu felt he could barely keep up with these talented youths crawling out of the woodwork.

Truly, heroes aren’t born, but created in times of strife and struggles. What this said about the future… well… Nian Zu prayed these young heroes would rise to the occasion, for it was clear his strength and wisdom were both sorely lacking.

Chapter Meme