The ships glided out of the morning fog like phantoms of mist and spray, their sleek, dark forms cutting through the waves with nary a sound.

Before the guards could raise the alarm, the ships dropped their Sound Barriers and came alive in a symphony of nautical commotion, sails flapping, hulls slapping, and oars groaning to the beat of a frantic drum. Each ship flew a single flag, a black square bearing the crossed axe-and-cutlass motif, revealing themselves as pirates grown bold enough to attack the Imperial Army itself. As the first wave of ships drew near, the sailors set their vessels aflame before abandoning them to crash headlong into the blockade of unmanned, oil-laden Imperial ships. The deafening explosion shook the ground as the first line of defences were breached, but despite all the smoke and confusion, the defending ships had ample time to ready for the impending nautical battle. After months of studied practice, the shipmasters were all intimately familiar with the local shoals and reefs, and they positioned their vessels accordingly, readied to take advantage of the slowed Enemy progress and block avenues of ingress with scuttled Enemy vessels. On board, a vast array of catapults and arbalests were armed and primed, aimed westward into the fog and smoke to await their targets, while staunch Warriors of the Empire stood ready to repel all boarders, these heroes ready to sell their lives dearly and throw back these pirate invaders.

But alas, even all this was not enough to stop the self-proclaimed King of Bandits, the vicious half-badger Huanhuzi.

Heedless of the dangers of the deep waters, the Bandit King’s fleet sailed in from the Northern approach. Smuggler’s vessels one and all, but built to hide in plain sight, their appearances deceptively similar to a standard merchant’s vessel save for their modified hulls hidden beneath the waves. It was this which allowed their ships to wholly negate the harbour’s innate defences, their flat-bottomed ships sliding over the dangerous shallows with laughable ease. Before the Imperial ships could turn to meet their foes, the northernmost vessels were already under attack from the pirate fleet, outnumbered three or four to one. Huanhuzi’s raiders picked off the Imperial defenders piece by piece, and before the hour was done, the second-lines had been breached and the pirate fleet continued sailing east towards SuiHua, the largest Imperial hub of the Western Wall. Should the pirates take or blockade the harbour, all Imperial supplies and reinforcements would be left with no option but to travel overland, while the Enemy raiders would have near unfettered access to anywhere along the Wall, thanks to the river thoroughfare which had been dug for that very purpose.

On that dark, autumn morning, the War against the Defiled took a turn for the worst, but thankfully, the Bloody-Fanged Wolf Baatar was already in the field with an army and well positioned to lend aid. However, his army was meant to reinforce Ethereal Fist Hongji’s forces already doing battle on the open fields of Central, and combined with the chaos developing outside Castle Wulin to the south, this meant that the valiant Chen Hongji was now left without aid. A trial of titanic proportions laid down by the Mother Above, but no matter how dark the day might grow, She always leaves a path back to the light.

For Chen Hongji did not stand alone, bolstered by the addition of recent reinforcements, an elite force which included too many Imperial Heroes to list, and led by the Legate Falling Rain himself.

- An excerpt from ‘Darkest Before Dawn, a saga of Falling Rain’, as written by Han BoShui

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In light of the day’s events, Yan’s field promotion to First Grade Warrant Officer left her feeling understandably conflicted.

On the one hand, she didn’t entirely believe she deserved the promotion, or at least not ahead of other, more deserving Warriors, like the cold and aloof Ryo Seoyoon who Da’in repeatedly praised as a brilliant tactical mind, or Big Huu who possessed an instinctive grasp of pack tactics and battle formations. Not to mention she now felt outclassed by her peers, thanks to Ishin Ken-Shibu’s superlative grasp of command, Zian and Tam Taewoong’s ever growing personal strength, and even ‘Mister’ Rustram now that he Healed Sai Chou without a Natal Palace or Domain of his own. Granted it was due to Panacea, but Healing was still a complex working of External Chi, though how he managed it was difficult to say. Yan had her Blessing of Wind, but even she didn’t wholly understand why her Chi would dissipate into Heavenly Energy with every working she tried aside from Wind Blades and Sending, and she was still unable to grasp the core concept of a Natal Palace. How does one keep a mental construct in permanence? Once her attention slipped, her mind would go blank and she’d find herself back in the darkness of the void, but everyone told her to keep trying.

Rain was the worst for this, absolutely no help whatsoever. “Just never stop thinking about it forehead,” he said, before laughing for no reason whatsoever. A maddening man, this husband of hers, but she loved him all the more for his strange little quirks.

On the other hand, it was gratifying to finally move on from the ranks of Junior Officers, and doubly so to surpass poor Mila, whom Akanai still refused to promote beyond Senior Captain. Amusing as it would be to needle the freckled red-head so, it was hardly fair considering Father-in-Law Baatar stayed on as a mere Captain for several decades even after becoming a Peak Expert. While this wouldn’t stop Yan from teasing her sister wife, she feared her her two-rank promotion would reek of nepotism to outsiders looking in, especially since the only real accomplishments she had to her name had little to nothing to do with tactical acumen.

All this meant Yan would have to work extra hard to prove she deserved her new rank, but as a woman and half-beast, she was no stranger to adversity. While leading the march ever eastward towards the Citadel, she kept close eye on the Enemy army as they moved into formation, envisioning how she would do battle against this formidable predator nipping at her heels. First, she familiarized herself with Hongji’s formation, which was an unfamiliar one considering all the new elements introduced. Luckily, she’d overheard enough of Rain and Rustram’s discussions to understand the basics behind their checker-board formation, and while it had been used to great effect in the battles thus far, she also knew its limitations. With the cavalry now in play, she wholly expected the centre and right flank to come under heavily targeted attacks from garo and gajashia riders alike, for they both presented a target rich opportunity. To combat this, she would shift Ken-Shibu’s retinue northward and move them in front of the ranged contingent, so he and his soldiers could stand ready to plug up any gaps. Then she’d position Major Chu XinYue’s retinue of heavy cavalry to support the right flank, and it should be enough to deter the Enemy from committing too hard on the attack, but Brigadier Hongji instead chose to send both retinues to reinforce the left flank, where Major Yobi-no had taken up a modified wedge formation which heavily favoured the exposed southern side.

A textbook response to doing battle with the Defiled on the open field, so why was Hongji so concerned with Yobi-no’s defence and leaving Mister Rustram more or less unsupported on the northern flank? The Brigadier was a brilliant commander and likely had his reasons, but Yan was unable to come up with an answer on her own. Unknowingly looking to Grandpa Du for guidance, she was taken aback by how tired he looked while sitting atop sweet Shana, his back straight and shoulders square to put up a front, but his weary eyes, slack arms, and dangling feet gave his exhaustion away, along with Kyung’s ever-vigilant presence stuck closer to his side. Grandpa’s enervation was not without reason though, for his epic battle against the Enemy Demons and Peak Experts had ended less than an hour past, wherein his exploits astonished any and all who witnessed them.

Oh what a treat it’d been to see the Sanguine Tempest in action, wielding his slender sabre with the consummate skills of a master. Grandpa didn’t have the same forceful, domineering presence of Baatar or Ghurda, nor did he fight with the grace and beauty of someone like Akanai or Yaruq, Warriors who drew the eye no matter where they went. Instead, Grandpa Du moved with precise purpose in battle, almost invisible until the moment after he struck. Unless left with no other choice, he never fought alone, joining hands with his allies around him and adding to their efforts in ways that made the sum total of their efforts greater than the whole. Wherever he appeared, Imperial Heroes rallied and Defiled villains fell, a focal point of order and destruction as his actions shaped the battlefield around him.

These were the actions of a man who grew up on the field of battle, one who learned to harmonize with his allies and rally Warriors to his cause all without Sending a single word. Grandpa Du had long since admitted tactics were not his true strength, but there in the chaos of battle, he became a commander in a different sense, one who dictated the tides of conflict. It was difficult to put into words what she witnessed, but it felt like throughout the entire battle, Grandpa was exactly where he needed to be in order to take advantage of his foes’ weaknesses or support his flagging allies. Once or twice might be a coincidence, but he consistently arrived in the nick of time to seize victory or subvert defeat, and to her eyes, he almost single-handedly kept the Imperial lines from crumbling apart. Whether it be killing a lurking Demon lying in wait for the speeding Exarch Bralton, threatening a cadre of Defiled from approaching the Lawgiver’s flank, or assaulting three Peak Experts and two Demons to rescue the Dark Giant and buy time for the Fiery Star to clear the field, Grandpa Du exerted more presence on the battlefield than any two Peak Experts combined.

Of course, much of this was due to his overwhelming personal strength, but even with minimal use of his Blessing of Wind, Grandpa was still a force to be reckoned with. What would he be like if he truly cut loose, using sabre and battle-fan without care for restraint? With his Wind Chakrams, he was a power unto himself, a Martial Warrior who could fight one against a hundred with ease. That was the Warrior Yan envisioned herself to be when she first entered his tutelage, fresh off her Awakening and eager to learn how to best wield it, but it was clear now that Grandpa had so much more wisdom to offer. Though she shared his Blessing, she saw that it was Kyung who inherited his true style, one which supported his allies on the battlefield while also utilizing their support to strike first, strike hard, and leave naught but destruction in his wake.

Even working together, Yan and Kyung would be hard pressed to do Grandpa’s legacy justice, and she would not have it any other way. He cast an enormous shadow, as any Living Legend should, but she was determined to ensure his name was remembered for as long as she drew breath. To do that, she must become a Living Legend herself, which coincidentally, had been her goal all along anyways.

All of which left her both nervous and excited, for this battle would be one for the history books, a massive battle between Imperial and Defiled on open ground. If only they had another hour more to reach a more favourable position, but the Enemy commander likely knew this as well and was preparing to strike soon. How would they attack? The ‘Chosen’ were an orderly, disciplined bunch when the occasion called for it, and they demonstrated this now by forming up into yet another unfamiliar formation, or at least that’s what it looked like to Yan. Difficult to make out their overall arrangement without access to Scrying and relate it back to the models and diagrams from her all-too-brief lessons, but she would have to make do.

Heavy cavalry waiting on the wings of the left flank, a loose line of light cavalry acting as a screen in the centre, and tribal auxiliaries massing on the right, while the Chosen were everywhere else. This explained why Brigadier Hongji was so concerned with the left, but the Enemy commander’s decisions made no sense whatsoever. Why throw the tribal auxiliaries at Mister Rustram’s checker-board formation? That was playing to his strengths, since his flexible deployment allowed him to pick and choose which sections to hit the hardest, not to mention the fact that clumped up groups of naked Defiled made perfect targets for the ranged contingent parked in the middle of the Imperial forces. Then there was the fact that Yobi-no’s tight wedge formation on the left flank left few targets of opportunity for the Enemy, garo riders were utterly wasted against the heavily-armoured polearm-wielding Death Corps, and the Imperial light cavalry was still all unaccounted for. Add to this how the Enemy was pressed for time as two Imperial armies were riding to cut off their path of retreat, and Yan suspected the Enemy commander was either incompetent or a traitor twice over, someone who took control of the Defiled army in order to blunder his way to ultimate defeat in twisted service to the Empire.

Alas, the Heavens were not so kind and Gongsun Qi revealed himself to the Imperial forces, leading Yan to believe she was just flat out reading the situation incorrectly. Traitor though he might be, the Lord of Martial Peace was neither incompetent fool nor wavering backslider. If the most infamous Living Legend had taken up arms against the Empire, then he meant to see it through to the end, and he would do so with the same ruthless drive and ingenious methods which saw him rise to the rank of Colonel General in spite of his lack of backing and the many powerful enemies he made along the way.

Almost no one was all too surprised to learn that a man quietly known as the Prince of Brutality had turned Defiled, nor was it unexpected for the Bandit King Huanhuzi to do the same, but a chorus of gasps sounded when they heard YuChun of Ten Thousand Spears had turned as well. At forty-eight years young, the charismatic Peak Expert was best described as the Western Ryo Dae Jung, a Dragon among men who surpassed his peers by so large a margin, his closest rival was Gao Changgong, a man almost two decades his senior. Though ‘merely’ a Major General, it was all but assumed YuChun would’ve eventually risen to the highest rank thanks to the support of his Ten Thousand Spears, an elite honour guard of loyal soldiers raised and trained by YuChun’s backer, the monolithic Mataram Clan. YuChun himself was supposedly directly related to a ruling royal family who reigned for centuries before the Empire’s founding, though why that mattered, Yan hardly knew.

And now, this Western Great General had taken the field against the Empire, leading an army to besiege Castle Wulin from all sides and keeping the Southern reinforcements from coming to Brigadier Hongji’s aid. Well, no wonder Gongsun Qi wasn’t in any rush to deal with them, he had all the time in the world to grind Hongji’s army beneath his heel. The question was, how did he intend to do so while playing to Imperial strengths? His deployment still made no sense whatsoever...

“You should smile more.” Jolted out of her thoughts by Fung’s unwarranted suggestion, Yan favoured the dandy noble with a withering glare. Wholly immune to its effects, Fung flashed a smile that was far too smarmy to fit atop his handsome features and added, “Or at least scowl less. It’s better for morale.” In response, Yan increased the intensity of her glare, but again, it had no effect save to elicit a chuckle from Rain’s laziest friend. “You People. I keep telling Mentor the same thing, but she never listens. Such a shame.”

Resisting the urge to loosen his teeth, Yan turned her attention back to the meeting on the plains and dismissed him with a sniff. “I am here to do battle with the Defiled, not bat my lashes and look pretty.”

“No need to be catty. All I’m trying to say is you should be more true to your nature, like Da’in.” This time, it wasn’t just Yan who glared at Fung, but Seoyoon as well, but he went on as if he didn’t even notice. “It’s always the same with you women warriors, putting on an ice-cold facade because you think it’s the only way to be taken seriously. You have your reasons, and I’m sure men are all to blame, but you’re normally so bold and brazen, a splash of colour in this otherwise bleak and austere field. Then it comes time for work, and your personality drains away, the spirited Yan replaced by the grim and frosty Warrant Officer Du.” Shaking his head with a sigh, he worked very hard at ignoring Yan’s anger and concluded, “The change is off-putting to say the least, and disheartening to all who experience it. Imagine knowing the most beautiful flower sat before you, but having no light to view it by. Such a shame...”

Upon receiving her field promotion, Yan had picked Seoyoon as her second, if only to keep the Ryo Scion’s many hidden guardians close by so Kyung and Grandpa could rest. Had she known the skirt-chasing young Magistrate of Shen Huo was here as her aide rather than as a Warrant Officer himself, she would’ve stationed them both as far away as possible. Fung didn’t even do her the courtesy of bringing his talented ‘manservant’ with him as he stood there and waxed poetic about colour and flowers. A shame Fu Zhu Li wasn’t around, since any Healer skilled enough to earn a Divinity’s trust must be phenomenally gifted like Taduk, which would come in handy over the next few hours.

Then again, Guan Suo still died in spite of the manservant’s best efforts, so there was that...

“Male Officers have the luxury of cracking jokes and making friends with their underlings,” Yan explained, wondering why Akanai ever accepted this waste of breath as her Disciple, “But friendly female Officers need walk a fine line lest they be seen as lacking authority, or worse, immodest.” Yan herself skirted the line more than once, though Kyung’s disapproval was enough to keep her in check most of the time, but as much as she would like to sit down, hoist a few drinks, and share bawdy jokes with her soldiers, it would be deemed most unseemly and reflect badly upon her powerful and influential husband.

Bah. Politics.

“That is how things are now, and how they will forever be if you and other women like you never try to change things.” Shrugging as if things were as simple as that, Fung gestured at Yan from head to toe and said, “This stoic front you’ve adopted here doesn’t suit you in the slightest, and it’s affecting your judgment. You’ve been trying to make heads or tails of the Enemy formation for some time now, when all you need to do is be your charming self and ask.” Something in Yan’s glare finally made Fung flinch, and she desperately wanted to know what it was, but before she could think it through, Fung added, “Not me, of course. Can’t go asking a man for help, no that wouldn’t do. Make you seem too much like a helpless maiden if you did, though only a fool would think that of you. There is someone else nearby you could ask though, a woman who received the finest military education money and influence can buy, and is a beauty unlike any other to boot.”

Loath as Yan was to admit it, Fung had a point. Turning to her second, she considered smiling at the youngest Ryo sibling and decided her efforts would not be appreciated. Where Yan was playing at being cold and aloof, Seoyoon had been born to it, as joyless and indifferent with her own family as she was with strangers. This, more than the fact that they were technically rivals, kept Yan from becoming fast friends with Seoyoon like she had with the admittedly fearsome and charismatic Da’in, whom she idolized greatly. Da’in was more in line with the sort of Warrior woman she wanted to be, so fearsome and imposing while wholly embracing her passionate femininity, but Yan lacked the courage to deal with all the rumours and hearsay it brought about. Grandpa Du had suffered enough by taking her in as his granddaughter, so she could hardly ruin his reputation as well, especially with all the lurid gossip which had sprung up regardless of her efforts. A rumour didn’t need to be true to adversely affect someone’s life, as Da’in could attest to. There was a good reason she was still unmarried at almost thirty years of age, and mostly it was because the fragile egos of most men were unable to bear having a wife stronger or more sexually voracious than they were. There were few men who could match the Sword Princess of Central, and even fewer who were still single, but such was the price to pay for freedom of expression.

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Still... it brought Yan great amusement imagining the look on Da’in future husband’s face when he learned his wife was still a virgin...

Hoping she didn’t sound too desperate, ignorant, or demanding, Yan faced Seoyoon and asked, “What do you make of the Enemy formation?”

Having long since exchanged her flowing white robes for more appropriate battle attire, Seoyoon looked like an ice queen in truth, with her tight, blue tunic and fine steel breastplate polished to a silvery sheen. Embossed with engraved feathers aplenty, she also wore a single matching pauldron on her left shoulder, and twin bracers over each pale, slender wrist, all while her gloved hands held her two sheathed swords in front of her armoured skirt, which was somehow functional, feminine, and fashionable all at once. Every piece was finely crafted from the strongest, lightest steel available, but utterly mundane as far as Yan could tell, for though the Ryo family’s star was ascendant, they lacked the deep backing and extensive resources of more established families like the Ishins or the Yos necessary to secure Runic gear. For Seoyoon to have two Spiritual Weapons was already extravagant enough, and from what Yan had heard from Grandpa, this was only because her older brother Geom-Chi passed on a second Spiritual Weapon so she could have one instead.

But only after she threw a tantrum, or so the rumours went. Honestly, beautiful though she might be, Seoyoon was a haughty, hot-tempered woman who barely let Fung touch the edge of her skirts, and Yan wondered what the admittedly charming and handsome young magistrate saw in her. It couldn’t be because he wanted the Ryos as a political ally. The Tong family was well entrenched in Shen Huo ever since Akanai helped them win the office for a hundred years, and there was no way the Ryos would uproot from Central to move there. Hell, Fung even had a set of Runic armour, a beautiful fighting robe he so loved to flourish while standing well away from the battle, as well as a mysterious underling clad head to toe in Runic plate, one who disappeared after his very public arrival in Nan Ping, not to mention the multi-talented, enigmatic Fu Zhu Li waiting on him hand and foot.

...Now that Yan thought about it, there was a lot about Fung and his family that didn’t make sense. Tong Da Hai was a factionless lieutenant who single-handedly fought his way up to become Magistrate of Shen Huo after the previous Magistrate named him his successor, but considering how recently he’d come into Office, the Tong Family was far more powerful and influential than it had any right to be. How curious.

Shooting Fung a dark look, Seoyoon didn’t even bother meeting Yan’s eyes as she answered, “Gongsun Qi means to crush the left flank with overwhelming force.” Yan saw that as well, but what she didn’t know was why, but Seoyoon continued before she could ask. “The net-like formation being used by the right and centre looks vulnerable to targeted cavalry charges, but our presence here means we could rush over to engage any Enemy forces who break through. Defiled cavalry could retreat the way they came in, but pivoting so precisely is easier said than done, and in a static engagement, infantry will eventually overwhelm any cavalry. Thus, Gongsun Qi intends to bog down the right and centre with Defiled auxiliaries marginally supported by opportunistic light cavalry, while sending his armoured Chosen and heavy cavalry to engage the left flank where our ranged weapons have more difficulty targeting.”

Ah, of course. Rain’s mobile catapults wouldn’t risk firing into Yobi-no’s clumped ranks, nor would the irregulars. This just went to show that the longbow was king, and mounted archers the most dangerous of all units on the battlefield. “And how do you suppose he’ll break through Yobi-no’s formation? Engage with infantry and split them off from the centre using cavalry?”

Pausing before she answered, Yan could see Seoyoon working through the question in her mind. “That is how I would do it,” she began, which was good because that was the answer Yan arrived at too, but then Seoyoon added, “But I do not believe Gongsun Qi will do the same. He has been known to adopt his foe’s tactics to use against them, and I suspect that is what he means to do today. The Enemy’s southern flank is still hiding their formation, but from the way they are arranged, they can easily fan out to mirror Yobi-no’s positioning.”

Strange for a Colonel General to let pride dictate his tactics, but Yan supposed if anyone was good enough to do this, it would be Gongsun Qi. Before she could ask any other questions though, a thunderous clap rang out and she spotted Hongji Cloud-Stepping back to the Imperial lines dragging a visibly disgruntled Akanai behind him. Given the layer of dirt coating her leather leggings, it would seem the Chief Provost had come out on the losing end of their exchange, which was terrifying to say the least. All her life, Yan had idolized Akanai as the strongest woman alive, and until just now, there’d been no proof to refute her, but now there were whispers of how the slight and slender Gongsun Qi just sent Akanai flying with an errant swing of his massive glaive.

A clear sign of overcompensation by the way, carrying around a weapon so much taller than himself, one not even suitable for mounted combat. If Gongsun Qi could wield that giant thing with a single hand without killing his own horse, then Yan would happily eat her boots raw.

There were two choices left to Brigadier Hongji now that Gongsun Qi had revealed his hand, and true to form, he went with the more daring and decisive of the two. Rather than play for more time and march further east, Hongji ordered the Imperial lines to dig in and ready for battle. There was no chance Gongsun Qi would allow them to retreat to a more defensible position, so running now would only waste energy better spent fighting. Eager for yet another clash, Yan reached for calm and Balance to top off the last bit of her Chi reserves, but it seemed the Enemy was in no rush to engage. For good reason too. Though both sides were tired from almost eight hours of constant marching and intermittent fighting, there were far more Enemy combatants than Imperial ones. Add in how the Defiled auxiliaries had just come off a long night spent assaulting the walls, this meant every minute of rest was more valuable to the Enemy by sheer virtue of quantity alone.

And soon enough, Imperial reports trickled in informing Hongji of the disastrous events unfolding elsewhere along the second line, revealing that Gongsun Qi was not bluffing after all and both Huanhuzi and Yuchun had defected to the Enemy’s side. The worst part was there were still so many Western heroes whose fate had yet to be revealed, like Siegebreaker Gao Changgong or the Thorny Desert Flower, Brigadier Leony of Lhatep. Prior to today, citizens all across the Empire harboured hope that these staunch Warriors were still resisting the Enemy, but now, the best they could hope for was that these heroes lay dead and buried somewhere, as opposed to leading Defiled to overthrow the Empire.

Time passed slowly as the two armies faced off, and Hongji was clever enough to use this time to prepare, gathering his Demon Slayers and Peak Experts, shifting empty transport wagons to serve as makeshift barricades and ensuring every soldier had food and water aplenty to fill their bellies. Though Yan would have much preferred if he ordered a line of trenches dug, she understood why Hongji kept their activity to a minimum, as any effort would be wholly wasted if Gongsun Qi attacked before their last-ditch preparations were completed. Yan similarly used this time to familiarize herself with the Officers under her command without Grandpa Du lurking over her shoulder and glaring at anyone who dared show the slightest sign of disrespect. To her surprise, she discovered they were a cordial bunch, and tried very hard not to think about how this was probably because of her relationship with Rain as opposed to her personal reputation.

As a reserve force, Yan’s primary responsibility was to respond when needed, which meant her tried and true tactic of using an entrenched line of swinging scimitars supported by stabbing spears was unlikely to come into play today. To this end, she gathered a few more talented Officers and their strongest warriors into a single cadre, while also ensuring there were enough leaders to keep the rest of her retinue in line. This was better than spreading her strongest Warriors across five-thousand soldiers, especially considering her position behind Mister Rustram’s checker-board formation, since she now had a unit that could thread through the gaps without throwing his battle-lines into disarray. This done, there were still a plethora of minor adjustments she could make, such as stationing officers who’d worked together before beside one another and keeping the more tired retinues in reserve for longer so they might rest.

Before a half hour had passed however, it seemed Brigadier Hongji’s patience had come to an end. Knowing time was no longer on their side, he ordered the entire centre to advance until the catapults were within range. From her position towards the back, she had a clear view of the stark difference between the devoted Death Corps and the hastily trained Irregulars, with tens of thousands of the former marching in complete lockstep while the latter surged forward in a shuffling, hesitant blob. Rain had the right idea getting crossbows onto the battlefield, but he erred gravely by putting them into the hands of commoners. Unlike the first batch, most of these irregulars had volunteered to join in the war effort, and it was easy to see most of them were regretting their earlier decision. Courage and despair alike were powerful weapons on the battlefield, and bringing these ten-thousand commoners into battle was akin to stabbing one’s self in the butt for no particular reason. As wounds went, it wasn’t particularly life threatening, but it was still uncomfortable to work around.

And to think, Rain wanted to arm his irregulars with pikes, armour, and shields too, a complete waste of funds and effort. It was all fine and good to humour him with these irregulars, as they were largely self-reliant. They carried most of their gear on their person and Rain generously supplied them with cattle and wagons aplenty to store rations, feed, and bolts, but if they had more gear, then they’d need more wagons, which would further slow the army’s overall travel speed. That was Yan’s husband though, a dreamer to the end, and too stubborn to accept things without learning them the hard way. It might well take the deaths of thousands of Irregulars to convince him of his folly, but at least then his efforts could be better spent persuading Martial Warriors to take up crossbows instead. Sadly, he’d made his own work harder by arming so many peasants with them and thereby emphasizing how crossbows were a commoner’s weapon. A silly distinction to make, since the same could be said of spears, maces, axes, or any number of tools turned weapons, but such was life.

If the Irregulars were Martial Warriors, they would be of far more use, as Yan envisioned a skirmishing line of ranged combatants ranging ahead of the army to bait Defiled to charge into trapped or defended areas. Alas, Brigadier Hongji’s hand was forced and the Death Corps were called upon to move out of position in order to keep the Irregulars safe behind them. Strange how the left and right flanks weren’t moving up as well, and Yan feared there’d been some miscommunication right up until the first catapult loosed its deadly payload.

There was no piercing whistle to follow up the weighty thump, but the sky lit up in a shower of sparkling lights. Sunlight glinting off metal, Yan realized, forged steel in fact, and as she traced the arc across the sky, her stomach lurching as the projectiles fell woefully short of the Enemy lines. Then the catapults sounded again, and again, their payloads scattered all about the open fields of Central, and only then did she understand the gambit. “Caltrops,” she said, her nose wrinkling into an ugly grimace. A double edged sword, since Imperial cavalry would no longer be able to chase down fleeing Defiled, but after thinking things through, she decided she was being overly optimistic.

If the Defiled were beaten and fleeing, the Imperial army would be in no shape to chase them, and would probably be better off retreating in the opposite direction...

After loosing three volleys of caltrops to deny several swathes of land on the southern flank, the catapults set to loosing stones once more, but Gongsun Qi immediately ordered the assault. The front rank of Defiled surged towards the Imperial lines, wholly unconcerned with the spike-laden field, as mere boots would be enough to stop them. Not so for the soft feet of cavalry though, forcing the picket line of garo riders to ride east out of the path of advancing soldiers. Leaving the cavalry to their own devices, Hongji still didn’t order the flanks to advance, and as the elongating line of tribal auxiliaries veered inwards towards the closest Death Corps target, Yan finally understood why.

The good Brigadier was counting on his hardy heavy infantry to weather a beating from both the Enemy’s centre line and the tribal auxiliaries both, counting on the latter’s lack of control to impede the advance of the more Disciplined Chosen. It was working too, as the Enemy’s centre stalled at perfect catapult range while the auxiliaries piled into the centre, their mundane weapons largely ineffective against sturdy Eastern armour now that their Chieftains and Champions had been pulled away. Remembering this minor detail and making use of it was the difference between an effective commander and Yan, so she quietly admonished herself for not even considering this possibility when gathering the most skilled Warriors of her retinue into one place.

Luckily, she would mostly be fighting unarmoured tribal Defiled, especially now that the Enemy’s right flank was a considerable mess. When Brigadier Hongji finally gave the order to advance, Mister Rustram wasted no time getting stuck in, directing his units to work in concert and grind entire sections of the auxiliary horde into meat paste. At the same time, the left flank engaged as well, with Yobi-no utilizing the tried and true wedge formation to drive deep into the Enemy lines. The first rank closed in and drove the Chosen back, allowing the second rank to split and spread out, with half moving to support the centre and the other half waiting in reserve. All the while Major XinYue’s heavy cavalry positioned themselves to threaten their enemy counterparts, but while an Imperial Warrior on foot was more than a match for most Defiled in the same position, the situation was reversed when it came to cavalry.

It all came down to a difference in mount, for powerful and majestic as a horse might be, it was still prey in the eyes of the carnivorous gajashia, with its sleek, muscular torso, sharp, snapping beak, and fearsome tusks. Regardless of the odds however, the valiant Major XinYue picked his moment and sounded the charge, while his counterpart responded in like. The thunder of hooves instilled a primal sense of alarm and terror in Yan even from so far away, and she watched with bated breath as both sides closed together with spears lowered and axes raised.

Only for XinYue to break off the charge about a quarter way through and immediately retreat with all haste, as a volley of arrows slammed home into the crowd of gajashias. Somehow in all the confusion, almost five-thousand Sentinels had slipped around the back of the Imperial Army and come out on the other side, taking the Enemy cavalry by complete surprise. To add insult to injury, the Defiled were now also in range of the Irregulars, and the Enemy charge faltered a second time as ten-thousand bolts rained down from above. Say what you will about their lacking courage or inconvenience, Yan had to admit, a bolt loosed by a commoner killed just as well as one loosed by a Martial Warrior, so maybe Rain wasn’t entirely wrong to do this.

Just mostly wrong.

Maddened by the death of so many allies, the gajashia cavalry chased after XinYue’s retinue, as it was the only available target since quins could run them around in circles all day. To their dismay, they soon came across yet another field studded with caltrops, this time left behind by XinYue’s soldiers as they pulled away. The fearsome gajashias shrieked in pain and rage as the spikes drove deep into the soft meat of their unprotected heels, and many crashed to the ground as they found their legs no longer able to support their weight. Bones snapped and armour groaned as Defiled and beast alike died in droves to their speedy stops, while a storm of bolts and arrows continued to pelt them without mercy.

Turning her attention back to the right flank, she noticed the rest of the Sentinels had not sat idle while all that had been going on, positioning themselves perfectly to loose volley after volley safely into the Defiled flank. Some of the more enterprising Defield broke off to charge them, but rather than retreat, Akanai dispatched a small vanguard force of less than a thousand Sentinels to see these aggressors off. Though too far to make out from where she stood, Yan spotted the telltale whirling chains of Tursinai and Mila, cutting down entire squads of their unarmoured foes with every pass of their weapons. Apparently, Yan’s sister wife had even killed three Demons in her last engagement, two kills claimed by hurtling her short spear at ridiculous speeds and one using her odd chain weapon which Rain claimed worked in defiance of the laws of physics.

And here Yan stood, twiddling her thumbs with nothing to do.

Not for long, however, as Fung relayed Brigadier Hongji’s orders to her. “We are to march around to the left flank with all haste.”

At least, Yan assumed they were Hongji’s orders, but Fung’s complete lack of proper procedure left things open to interpretation. “Acknowledged.” Thankfully, no direct Sending from the Brigadier arrived as Yan hurried her troops over the left, where Yobi-no was struggling to hold out against the concentrated attack of Chosen. They too had adopted the wedge formation, but their positioning was superior to the grizzled Major’s, leading to his troops being split into unfavourable engagements. A good third of his front line was stuck behind their comrades, while the rest were under heavy attack in an eerily similar fashion to what Mister Rustram was doing to the auxiliaries on the other side. Gongsun Qi was toying with them, using this battle as a learning opportunity to familiarize himself with new tactics, and though the Defiled had suffered far more casualties than the Imperial forces, they could easily afford the losses.

There was no exact count of the Defiled forces who’d marched on Castle JiangHu, but only because it would’ve taken longer than an entire day to count them all and Gongsun Qi kept shuffling his units about. For all they knew, he commanded anywhere from five-hundred thousand to five million Defiled, though the number could easily have been inflated by simply marching the same groups of soldiers in and out of sight. Even now with the front lines engaged, the remaining Defiled numbers were still staggering to behold, their ranks stretching far back and moving out wide to encircle the beleaguered Imperial forces.

Which meant they had to kill as many Defiled as they could while the Enemy was still moving into position, for there would be no respite once they began their all-out-assault.

“The good Brigadier requests we hold nothing back,” Fung quipped, “So I suppose it’s high time I contributed.”

Yan idly considered ordering him to lead the charge, if only so she could pick a new aide. “Acknowledged.” Seeing the flagging lines before her, she deployed her units to bolster the line and spread her elites among them, rectifying her earlier mistake on the fly as best she could. Then, she led the rest of her command unit into the thick of things, having saved the most dangerous section for herself, the focal point between the left and centre. If the Defiled broke through there, then they could move to encircle and isolate Yobi-no’s troops, but so long as Yan drew breath, she would not allow it to happen. Shield and battle-fan in hand, she strode out to meet the Enemy and –

Stop short as Fung and Seoyoon sprinted ahead and showered her in a spray of dirt.

Sputtering as she pushed through the veritable wave of earth, Yan was ready to tear both their heads off their necks, but what she saw shocked her to silence. Still wearing his handsome, hateful smirk, Fung strode into battle a man alone, smashing aside all opposition with domineering swipes of his ridiculously heavy spear. Runic armour kept some of his foes alive, but even they were tossed aside as he drove deep into Enemy lines, an overbearing style Yan would’ve never attributed to the hedonistic young dandy. She heard the tales of how he matched Wu Gam blow for blow during Shen ZhenWu’s banquet, but she always assumed the half-fox was just giving face or had been won over by Fung’s promise of coin and women. Now, the truth was laid out before her and there was no denying it: Fung’s physical strength was somehow comparable to the Earth-Blessed Wu Gam despite lacking a Blessing of his own.

And his speed... his speed was something else. His weapon thrummed as it whirled to and fro, a blur of motion dancing about the battlefield to a song no one else could hear and lips moving in silent recital as if copying Zian or Ken-Shibu. No, not copying them, for this was a style all Fung’s own. Neither song nor dance was being recited, but poem. Fung’s motions were set to emphasize his tone and inflection, hands poised to drive home his rhythm and breaths timed to perfection, but unlike Song who sometimes shouted her poems mid-battle, Fung was reciting them for his own amusement.

And again, Yan was proven wrong as she noticed the death unfolding in his wake. Like sharks honing in on the scent of blood, Seoyoon and her bodyguards followed carefully behind Fung, taking full advantage of the chaos he wrought to kill with near impunity. Fung was the line breaker, a blunt instrument which scattered the Chosen about, while Seoyoon played the part of precise scalpel, her sword darting in between armoured plates to end lives with frightening ease.

Impressed by their coordination and annoyed at being outshone, Yan threw herself into battle as well and supported them as best she could. When Fung’s arms finally grew tired after an hour of battle, he silently signalled for aid and moved to fall back, while Seoyoon and her guards fell in around him to escort him away. By then, Yan had expended almost half her Chi on Honing and Wind Blades, but her effectiveness fell far short of their combined efforts, a loss she was oddly happy enough to take. The more important thing was that they’d stabilized the left flank, and now another reserve unit was coming by to hold the line.

As she led her troops back to rest, Seoyoon left Fung in the care of her guards and fell in beside Yan. “He wasn’t wrong,” she said, and for the life of her, Yan had no idea what she was going on about. It must have shown in her expression, for Seoyoon quickly added, “Fung. When he said the cold facade doesn’t suit you. You are very much like Da’in in many ways, which I think is why she gets along with you so well.” As Seoyoon’s gaze darted by to check on Fung, Yan spotted the ghost of a smile on her lips. “I ask that you take no offence from the callous way he presents himself, for that is merely his Dao. He does as he pleases, chasing after what holds his attention for the moment, like a lazy, well-fed cat who has no need to hunt, but does so anyways because it is in his nature.”

Huh. It turned out the frost maiden Seoyoon was not so icy after all, or Fung’s considerable charms were more potent than anyone ever thought. Catching Yan’s gaze and teasing smile, Seoyoon’s cheeks reddened as she looked away. “He wanted you to ask me for advice, because I expressed my admiration towards you and a desire to become close friends.”

This time, Yan was truly shocked. “Really?”

Seoyoon nodded curtly, but Yan saw her embarrassment. “He said I should just tell you, but if I’m being a bother –”

Yan cut her off then and there by throwing her arms around the adorable girl, hugging her tight without a care for all the blood, sweat, and grime. “Of course! I would love to be closer friends with you, but I thought you didn’t like me.” Holding the hug until Seoyoon relaxed, Yan pulled back and grinned before grabbing two waterskins from the porter. Handing one to Seoyoon, they quenched their thirst together before Yan decided to do away with the niceties and go right for the throat. “So tell me, you and Fung. How far has that scoundrel gotten? Don’t be shy, tell your big sister Yan everything, and if he’s crossed the line, I’ll beat him soundly for you.”

Thoroughly enjoying herself despite the dire circumstances, Yan found Balance with ease as she needled Seoyoon for details and gabbed about nothing of importance. Battle was necessary, but sometimes, a little silliness went a long way. Fung was right. Who cares if others thought Yan wasn’t ladylike or was behaving improperly? This was who she was, and she no longer cared to hide it.

Especially since they might not live out the day regardless. Perhaps later, she could go pay Rain a visit and kiss him one last time for good measure, though with Lin-Lin in the carriage, it would have to stop with a kiss. Such a shame he refused to do anything last night, worried he might exhaust her unnecessarily, but what Rain didn’t seem to understand was that love and happiness were a balm for the soul. Too much was as bad as not enough of course, but eventually he would learn to let go of his worries and understand what Balance truly meant, and then...

Well... Yan had no idea what would happen then, considering Rain had gotten this far without it. Only the Heavens knew, and they refused to share their secrets, so only time would tell.

Chapter Meme