Having spent most of the past year getting to know the Bekhai, Du Min Gyu no longer thought of little Yan’s tribesman as merely a bunch of primitive, mountain-dwelling isolationists with no care or regard for civilized life.

They were also certifiably insane to boot, every last one of them including the granddaughter he so loved and cherished.

Falling Rain’s insanity stood out the most because he never cared to hide it, but this cultural insanity was a core tenet of being Bekhai. One needn’t look too hard for ready examples, such as when little Yan kept silent regarding several attempts on her life. No doubt she intended to take vengeance with her own hands, which was quite frankly an insane prospect for a girl her age, especially considering she would have died if Min Gyu hadn’t caught wind of things and intervened, but he was strangely proud of her fierce independence. All the Bekhai were like this, stubborn and prideful to the extreme, but their insanity had never been more evident than last night, during his meeting with Akanai, Baatar, and the rest of Rain’s family to discuss the boy’s ongoing meeting with the Legate. There, whilst sitting at Baatar’s dining room table and waiting for the boy to return, Du Min Gyu had broken out into a cold sweat as the Imperial Servant laid out in no uncertain terms the Bekhai’s dire situation. “Regardless of how Lord Husband’s meeting goes with his Patron,” the girl had warned, “We will likely find ourselves at odds with one or more of the five Supreme Families, and possibly even all five if Shen Zhen Wu should choose to act against us to better sell his ruse.”

Akanai, being the intractable madwoman that she was, had merely snorted and said, “Then let them come. If they think five Supreme Families too many, I will gladly waste two or three bloodlines for them.”

Having been infected by her insanity, the rest of the Bekhai actually agreed. Visibly and verbally, no less, without a sign of fear or trepidation to be found on any of their faces save for the Imperial Servant’s. Insanity, pure, unadulterated insanity, there was no other way to describe it. These weren’t backwater nobles and greedy merchants the Bekhai could bully and browbeat as they pleased, but the aristocracy of Imperial Nobility itself. Not only were these illustrious Families descended from the Heavenly Warriors who helped found the Azure Empire, they were also the descendants of every Emperor since then aside from the first. There was no clan, faction, or power higher than that of the Five Supreme Families, the veritable overlords of the continent who wielded the Emperor’s Authority with nigh impunity, for any one amongst their number could be the next Emperor Himself, or if not, then parent, sibling, or cousin at the very least.

And the Bekhai were crazy enough to believe themselves capable of not only opposing a Supreme Family, but also overcoming them as well. Madness.

It was neither ignorance or naivete which led them to this conclusion, and over the next few hours, Min Gyu realized it wasn’t brash overconfidence either. The Bekhai understood the magnitude of the trials and tribulations before them, but they treated it with the same fatalistic philosophy they applied to all aspects of their lives. No matter how dire the situation or arduous the obstacle, the Mother always left a path to salvation, a popular notion which was widespread amongst the people of the Empire, but one he himself had never wholeheartedly embraced. Although he’d lectured Rain on having faith in the Heavens Above, reliance on faith alone was akin to laziness and apathy. He’d prayed for months and years for the Mother to fix his leg and restore him to health, but never once did she answer those prayers during his many decades of idle insouciance. Then, after he got off his ass and took in a promising young woman as his student, the Mother finally deigned to answer his prayers by having him cross paths with the Medical Saint, a man who would’ve never treated Min Gyu if not for his ties to little Yan. The Mother helped those who helped themselves, he saw this now, because trials and tribulations were meaningless if She kept swooping in to save them. Instead, She offered Her children the tools needed to solve their problems themselves, and thus Min Gyu’s faith was rooted in his decades of hard work and experience as well as his dedication to the Martial Dao.

That was Rain’s biggest problem, of this he was certain, lack of faith in the tools at his disposal. It was a common issue amongst Martial Warriors, especially ones who’d been exposed to powers beyond their comprehension, unable to understand just how the Martial Dao could ever prepare them to match such god-like beings. Swords and fists were simple enough, but Blessings, Talents, and at times even Auras, Natal Palaces, and Domains, the basic milestones of the Martial Dao, were too abstract and extraneous for some to understand, hence why so many Martial Warriors stalled at those points. This was where faith came into the equation, because while Min Gyu couldn’t confidently explain how any number of Martial concepts worked, he knew they were all tools bestowed upon them by the Mother Above in order to combat the Enemy, and for him, this was enough. Granted, he still made an effort to understand the mechanics behind Chi and other things, such as his unnamed Talent which kept his Wind Chi from dissipating upon contact with another living creature, but he never let his lacking comprehension interfere with his faith in these gifts from the Mother Above, and it was here where Rain was most lacking.

Well, perhaps not most lacking. Faith was sorely needed, but the boy could also benefit from several swift kicks to the ass. Why no one stopped him from going on a day trip during such a dangerous time, Min Gyu would never understand, but if he’d known Rain was bringing Yan to a farm an hour away from the Citadel, he would’ve never let his beloved grand-daughter go. The girl knew it too, which was why she’d been so vague about her plans for today, stating only that she was going to go ‘play with Lin and the others’. More Bekhai insanity, but at least Baatar had prepared for the inevitable conflict and kept a sizable rescue party on standby. The dog-headed fool should’ve bolstered the boy’s guard detail as well, but it was too late for regrets. Here they stood on this open field surrounded by indefensible farmland, with an hour-long journey back to safety where any number of assassins might be lying in wait. Complaining would do nothing, so Min Gyu would simply have to rely on faith, steel, and Chi to see them through this precarious, and utterly avoidable tribulation.

Standing in the driver’s seat of his carriage, Min Gyu kept a close eye on their surroundings whilst periodically sending gusts of Wind Chi to sweept through the area in search of Concealed assassins and guardians, but thus far he’d found no hostile combatants. This was not to say there was nothing to be found, for there were plenty of friendly individuals Concealed about the periphery, twenty seven in total who’d ridden with them from the Citadel, alongside the modest escort of fifty visible Bekhai warriors. Min Gyu could tell the Concealed Warriors were Bekhai because he could make out their quins as well, but what irked him was the fact that he’d seen members of the Medical Saint’s guard detail fade into Concealment with his own two eyes, yet his Wind Chi was utterly unable to find any new contacts. It’d been seventy-odd years since he first discovered this trick, and in all that time since, he’d never experienced failure when looking for a Concealed individual he knew was there until meeting the Bekhai. Now it seemed like every member of the Medical Saint’s guard detail could do the same, and Min Gyu found it aggravating to the extreme.

How? How could they trick the wind itself? They were creatures of flesh and blood, and therefore presented a physical barrier through which wind could not pass, yet no matter where Min Gyu sent his streams of probing wind, there was not a single veiled guard to be found. It was literally impossible, yet obviously not, for they’d found some means with which to evade his detection. Why would anyone even bother coming up to a countermeasure for a skill so rare and unique as his? As far as he knew, only someone with his unique Talent and quintessential Blessing could pull off such a feat without draining their Chi reserves dry with a single pass or two. Were Yan to try it, her streams of Wind Chi would dissipate upon contact with any and all living creatures, forcing her to weave her currents in and around any friendly obstacles in her way to avoid wasting her efforts, thereby greatly increasing the need for focus, concentration, and Chi, so who would bother -

Ah. Perhaps it wasn’t a direct countermeasure to Min Gyu’s efforts, but rather his trick failed to uncover them because he wasn’t casting a wide enough net. Sure enough, once he raised his sights and delivered multiple probing gust through the treetops, he eventually uncovered seven Concealed guards nesting among them, though they were hard to make out since there were so many leaves and branches scattered around them. How foolish of him to be so arrogant and shortsighted, believing his methods were infallible even though his purview was narrow and flawed. The guards weren’t purposely countering his methods, they were simply standing too high up for his directed gusts to find them. There were at least a handful of other mundane methods to avoid his detection, such as hiding underwater or behind a false wall, and he reflected on all the times in his life when his skills might have failed him.

Peace makes fools of all Warriors, a stark reminder he would do well to keep in mind.

After confirming the treetop Concealed Experts were in fact friendly, Min Gyu relaxed ever so slightly while massaging the tension out of his neck and shoulders. The thought of facing the Supreme Families had unnerved him more than he cared to admit, so it was almost reassuring to see the Bekhai taking things as stoically as they were. The Imperials were powerful and resourceful foes, but they were not infallible, else Rain would not have escaped death at the hands of three trained assassins. Perhaps that was why the boy was allowed out in the first place, to force their Imperial enemies to act now before they were fully prepared and therefore expose themselves to the Legate and the Bekhai, though there were much better ways to go about it than dangling Falling Rain out like a piece of bloody bait.

Or, Min Gyu mused as he noticed young Charok patrolling to the south, bringing largely untried youngsters out on dangerous rescue missions.

Truth be told, he rather liked the quiet, unassuming young man who valued family above all else, yet still found time to progress along the Martial Dao. The dutiful father and husband was a capable Martial Warrior, only slightly inferior to his ferocious wife Alsantset, who herself was almost a match for Kyung. Still, Min Gyu inwardly disagreed with bringing the young couple with them to rescue Rain, and not just because he didn’t want their darling children to be orphaned so young. Talent on the training fields was one thing, but he himself had just discovered a glaring flaw in his own logic which had held up so well in peace time, so how could Charok be free of flaws himself? He was largely untested in real battle, and one could not know the true measure of a warrior until lives were on the line. Min Gyu had seen promising young talents freeze up at the sight of blood, and quivering curs find courage with blade in hand, and Rain himself was living proof that appearances were deceiving, for who could imagine that this scrawny, smiling, pet-coddling fool was in fact a bloodthirsty warrior standing at the forefront of his peers?

Not to say Min Gyu disapproved of Charok’s presence either, for the young man knew the risks and opted to come along regardless, which spoke of his stalwart courage and staunch devotion to family. No, Min Gyu’s disapproval was reserved solely for Baatar, who should’ve rejected Charok’s bid to join them alongside a handful of other fresh-faced and bright-eyed fledglings. These young men and women had no place here on this errand, because the stakes were simply too high. He could only imagine the outrage if it became known that the charitable and charismatic Falling Rain, who might’ve just pulled off the impossible and recovered from a shattered Core in less than a year, had fallen victim to Imperial politics and was assassinated on orders of a Supreme Family. In these trying times, the boy was more than a superlative young talent, for he embodied hope itself, hope for the crippled and abused, the impoverished and afflicted, the fearful and the weary, for he was a man who defied the odds time and time again to spit in the eye of the Father himself.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

And if his death were linked to the Imperial Clan, then it would tell the citizens of the Empire that their safety came second to Imperial posturing. The people would riot, if not rise up in open rebellion alongside the Bekhai, and many Martial Warriors would join them, or at the very least stand aside and let the Eastern Imperials wipe their own ass. It was idiocy of the highest order to kill Falling Rain here and now, and try as he might Min Gyu could not see the logic behind their actions.

Which meant that the Supreme Families were confident enough to act in spite of the risks, so they would only dispatch assassins who were well-trained and well-equipped. Falling Rain had kept one of his assassin’s swords, but had not thought to bring their corpses away as well, and all evidence of the scuffle had been removed in the short time since. According to Kuang Biao, the three dead assassins had not been Peak Experts, but all three possessed Domains, and only dumb luck and the Guardian Turtle had saved young Rain’s life. Against such powerful enemies, young, untried Experts were of no use, no matter how talented they might be. Charok, Alsantset, and even Tenjin, the celebrated Fire-Bird of Sinuji, none of them should have been here, for swords did not have eyes and the Emperor’s love of young Talents did not afford them much protection when they went against Imperial interest.

Glancing at Kyung, Min Gyu tried to remember how old the half-cat was. Forty? Fifty? The boy had been a gift from... some fool or the other, a sort of backhanded insult to insinuate his lack of heirs was due to some twisted perversion, but while he’d done his fair share of picking flowers and trampling grass in his younger years, he’d simply never met a woman he cared enough about to marry. Unlike young Charok, Min Gyu had placed the Martial Dao above all else, and even now, he didn’t regret it, but he also couldn’t lie and say he had no regrets at all.

It was all Yan’s fault for pointing out that Kyung was as much Min Gyu’s Disciple as Kai had been, perhaps even more so since the half-cat was always at his side. He only taught Kyung because he was also teaching Kai at the time, and his disciple needed a proper sparring partner to train against...

“Kyung,” Min Gyu Sent, studying the young man who he helped shape into the fine Martial Warrior before him. “If we are attacked, you are to prioritize your own safety above all else. Should I fall, you are not to avenge me, or waste time retrieving my corpse. You are to follow Baatar’s orders as if you were one of his soldiers, until such a time as Yan comes to retrieve you.”

“Yes Master.” Though his tone and expression were impassive as always, Kyung’s cat ears flattened against his skull and his tail lashed about in agitation, no doubt cursing himself for being too weak to aid his ‘Master’.

An ugly word, now that Min Gyu thought of it, and so on a whim, he Sent, “Yan calls you big brother, so from now on, you may call me grandfather as well.”

“Yes Grandfather.”

There was no change in the half-cat’s mannerisms, which made Min Gyu think Kyung didn’t care much about titles. Or maybe he hated his master and was unhappy at having to call his tormentor ‘Grandfather’. “Do you envy your half-sister for her place amongst the Bekhai?” Min Gyu asked, before he could think better of it. “For the love and family she’s found there?”

“Yes and no,” Kyung Sent, looking directly into Min Gyu’s eyes, a rare display from the deferential half-cat. “I do not envy her place amongst the Bekhai, for it is better here, at Grandfather’s side.”

But he envied the love and family she’d found. Of course he did. Who wouldn’t. “Well,” Min Gyu Sent while giving Kyung a pat on the head. He’d done this thousands of times before, so why did it feel so awkward now? “I’m sorry.”

There was no reply, and in truth, Min Gyu wasn’t sure what an appropriate response to such a pitiful apology would be, so he simply went back to looking for Concealed assassins and hoped the awkward ambience would simply disappear. After another minute of stifling discomfort, Min Gyu focused on Baatar and Sent, “What’s taking so long? Is the boy insisting on bringing his pets?”

“Our initial plan is unviable,” Baatar Sent back. “The Guardian Turtle’s presence will give it away.”

Damn it. Of course. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Well because he wasn’t in the habit of accounting for devoted giant turtles. “So what now?”

“We move out in the same order as before, but we place the boy in the second carriage, with me.”

An option they’d ruled out on the way over because it was too obvious a choice, but since obfuscation was of minimal use, the centre was the best place for Rain. Still... “I suggest we switch positions and have the boy ride with me while you take the vanguard. The centre is safest, but your presence makes the boy’s position too obvious, whereas I am the outsider and least likely to be trusted with his life.” Min Gyu had volunteered for the vanguard, where his Blessing of Wind would be of the most use, but the circumstances now demanded otherwise. “Are the others still lost in Insight?”

“Yes.” After a short pause, Baatar Sent, “We will do as you suggested. Open the carriage doors. I will bring the boy out shortly.”

“I will guard him with my life,” Min Gyu Sent back, and miracle of miracles, he actually meant it.

“Thank you.” That was it, but the Bekhai hoarded their words like a fishwife hoarded coin, used only when absolutely necessary and with great reluctance. Not two seconds later, Baatar leaped over the towering bamboo stalks and landed softly on the ground in between the three carriages, carrying a bundled Falling Rain in his arms, wrapped in a thick quilt to hide his face and torso. Having prepared for this well in advance, the Death Corps swarmed in around Baatar with quilts and jackets raised overhead, using the chaos and confusion to confuse anyone Scrying on their position. In this, Rain’s diminutive frame worked to his advantage as he and two similarly wrapped Khishigs stealthily slipped into the shuttered carriages and simultaneously slammed the doors shut. With their precious cargo in place, Kyung flicked his reins and set the six-horse team to moving, winding in and around the other two carriages until they finally settled into a proper formation. Baatar and Charok rode at the front, Min Gyu and Kyung in the centre, and Husolt and Ghurda held up the rear, all while surrounded by an imposing squad of quin riders with bows drawn and arrows ready.

Their convoy left the Death Corps far behind, since their cattle-drawn wagons couldn’t keep up with the carriages or quin riders, and someone had gone to great efforts to Conceal the Guardian Turtle while she moved, but otherwise, their convoy made for a formidable sight. Truth be told, he would’ve been much more confident if Akanai were here with them instead of lost to sudden Insights from entering the grove, but he knew how rare and precious each Insight was to a warrior Akanai’s age. He’d also be lying if he said he wasn’t curious to see how his garden back in Yantai measured up to the Medical Saint’s bamboo grove, but now was not the time for indulging idle curiosities. The Medical Saint was truly a man of many talents, and Rain a boy of many mysteries, untouched by the magics of Divination and Natural Balance. Technically, it wasn’t magic, but rather a careful, harmonious arrangement of nature which interacted with the natural Elements and brought an area into Balance, done so using measuring devices, mathematical formulas, intricate interactions, and more, but to Min Gyu, it all sounded like magic by another name.

Focus. Still standing in the driver’s seat, Min Gyu sent Wind Chi billowing out in search of Concealed enemies. Though he found none, he continued searching at irregular intervals while the Bekhai scouts ranged ahead and conducted searches of their own, though how effective they might be at uncovering Concealed foes remained to be seen.

But not for long.

The response was subtle and almost went unnoticed as his Wind Chi brushed over the hidden assassins, a dozen of them lying in the grass less than a hundred metres up the road and well within his range of detection. The clever killers had escaped notice for so long because they’d covered themselves in blankets of dirt with the grass still attached, but had just removed them while still in Concealment because they were ready to strike. Any warning Min Gyu gave now would be too little too late, which meant someone intimately familiar with Min Gyu’s detection skills had warned them in advance, and the only person who could’ve done so was his old friend written rival, Zhang Jun Bao.

So these were the Legate’s assassins then, here to sell the story of Falling Rain’s falling out. How novel, but Min Gyu suspected the Legate would not lose much sleep if his people ‘accidentally’ succeeded.

As he opened his mouth to shout a worthless warning, the Bekhai outriders lifted their bows and loosed their arrows, then all that was left of the assassins were still corpses and quivering shafts. Jaw dropping in disbelief, he stood stock still as he came to grips with the one-sided massacre he’d just witnessed, unable to tear his eyes away from the carnage while his carriage rolled past. Replaying the incident over in his mind, he realized Charok had been the first to raise his bow, and the rest had simply followed suit, aiming their arrows in and around the same area as Charok’s. The amber-eyed father and cook had placed his arrow right through the throat of the centre-most assassin, while the other archer’s shafts were not so neatly placed.

...Meaning Charok was the only one who’d spotted the assassins. The others merely took their cue from his actions to loose their arrows in the same general direction, and in doing so, turned the tides on a deadly trap before their enemies had a chance to spring it. Twelve Expert assassins, with years of training and a Spiritual Weapon each, rendered worthless by fifty something odd savages with bendy sticks and string.

Feeling suitably humbled by the young warrior’s perception and Bekhai archery, Min Gyu redoubled his scouting efforts and uncovered another ambush not five minutes later, this time with almost a full minute to spare. Sending a warning to Baatar, the half-wolf responded with a concise, “Acknowledged,” and carried on riding without a care in the world. A half minute later, Min Gyu was about to Send something again when a thunderous explosion sounded in the distance. Mother knows when he’d had time to loose it, but Baatar’s short sword landed heavily amidst the assassins and sent them scurrying out from the ditch they were hiding in, only to be ridden down by twenty Bekhai Experts appearing out of Concealment. Min Gyu hadn’t even known they were there, meaning they’d been at least a kilometre away when he first uncovered the assassins, yet the quins weren’t even breathing hard after their breakneck sprint. For the second time this trip, he quietly raised his assessment of the Bekhai Khishigs by a few notches and their chances of survival against the Imperial Clan. Between their speed and range, an army of these Khishigs could easily take on a force four or five times their own, more if their enemies were unarmoured Defiled.

One of the riders approached to return Baatar’s weapon, and then their journey continued. With Min Gyu’s help, they uncovered and dispatched two more ambushes, as well as a third without his help before arriving at the Citadel gates an hour later, bringing the butcher’s bill to sixty-three dead assailants and seventeen injured Bekhai, the worst of whom rode through the gates on his own with more shame in his grimace than pain.

A formidable bunch, these Bekhai, but Min Gyu was still wary of their foes. “Five ambushes,” he Sent to Baatar as soon as they were safe in his manor, which he claimed was impenetrable to Eavesdropping, Scrying, or other means of surveillance. “Five Supreme Families. You’d best keep the boy heavily guarded and on a short leash, because I shudder to think what forces they’ll throw at us once they’ve had enough time to prepare.”

“He is safe where he is,” Baatar replied, and something in the man’s embittered tone put Min Gyu on edge. Turning around, he opened the shutter to the carriage and peered in, only to find an unfamiliar Khishig staring back.

Mother in Heaven. “All this trouble just to leave him at the grove?” Had he known, Min Gyu would have stayed there too, but he supposed that was why Baatar kept quiet.

Baatar shrugged ever so slightly, which more than anything showed how tired he was. Five brief, and explosive encounters might not seem like much, but remaining vigilant for an entire hour had taken its toll. On Min Gyu too, he realized, as he leaned against Kyung for support. “The boy insisted. He found a new pet, some sort of oversized rodent Taduk refused to let loose in the grove. I could not leave the boy trapped in close confines with a wild Spiritual Beast, so there was no other choice.”

The blood drained from his face even as he cursed himself for not noticing. The Medical Saint’s guards must have Concealed the Divine Turtle as she lay in wait outside the grove, which would’ve been much easier than doing so while she ran after the convoy. Min Gyu just assumed she was too slow to keep up, like the Death Corps guards, who likely never intended to follow in the first place. Mother in Heaven, was he so old that his mind was starting to slip? “...So what? We do this all again tomorrow?” A hint of desperation leaked into Min Gyu’s Sending, one he didn’t much like but couldn’t help. He was too old to do something so stressful and tiring again so soon, but if Yan needed him, he would be there.

“No, they will return on their own later tonight.” Evidently, Baatar was confident in Akanai’s prowess as well as the Medical Saint’s guards, which was both reassuring and terrifying at the same time. “But our work is not done. The Imperials were not prepared to strike today, yet they did so because they underestimated our strength. They will not make this mistake a second time, but I cannot escort Rain on his journey to the Central Citadel, and Mother refuses to go with them in my stead.” Clapping Min Gyu on the shoulder, Baatar flashed his wolfish grin, a smile which felt more like a threat. “As such, I leave his safety, and the safety of my wife, daughter, and grandchildren, in your capable hands.”

...What joy. Swallowing a pithy comment about the dubious honour of such a demanding task, Min Gyu nodded and said, “On my life, I will bring him back to you alive.”

Or, alternatively and far more likely, he would die trying.

Chapter 553