Wraiths.

Why did it have to be Wraiths?

Of all the Father’s foul minions, Nian Zu hated Wraiths the most. Over his long years of service, he’d come close to death more times than he cared to count, and most of those close shaves were made at the business end of a poisoned Wraith dagger. They were not the strongest foes one might face, nor were they particularly effective considering how often their attacks ended in failure, but their tactics were aggravating to defend against and occupied precious man-power that could be better utilized. They were cowards and opportunists, lurking in shadows to prey upon unsuspecting foes, and despite their low chance of success, they made up for this through volume of attacks. He’d lost many a friend and comrade to their contemptibly craven ways, and the aftermath was never pleasant to look upon. To date, the worst scene of carnage Nian Zu ever had the misfortune to walk into was a successful raid on a hospital tent, when the Enemy Wraith snuck into the Citadel during a long, drawn out battle and targeted a hospital tent hours after hostilities ceased.

Wounded soldiers and fatigued Healers, these were their targets of choice. Wraiths were no hunters or killers, but scavengers and opportunists. A pox on them all, and a pox on the Father for giving life to these foul miscreations.

Ordinarily, once the advantage of surprise was lost, the Wraiths’ made for easy targets, as few were capable of Concealing themselves from Domain. This bunch didn’t even bother maintaining their Concealment, charging in as bold as could be once their presence was made known due to Yukun’s last second warning, one Sent to bypass the Sound Barrier they had in place. Were it not for his timely message, the Wraiths might well have succeeded here today, but Nian Zu seized the initiative and launched an attack before the would-be assassins were in place. Still, caution prevailed above all else when dealing with these slippery assassins, so Nian Zu deployed his Domain to keep track of his foe despite seeing the Wraith’s eyes widen in shock before him, a pale, pasty figure garbed in dark, satiny Western robes charging headlong into the fray.

A good thing too, for even as Nian Zu’s mace caved in his assailant’s skull, his Domain billowed out and uncovered nine more killers closing in around him.

Seven now, as Rang Min and Gerel took action, their longswords piercing through their chosen targets with startling speed. Though Nian Zu dispatched his foe first, this was due to the difference in weapon alone, for his mace hung freely upon his sash while their longswords were kept sheathed to one side, and thus required more time to draw and attack. Both men surpassed Nian Zu in terms of hand and foot speed however, so they had no issue responding to the second wave of attackers, while Nian Zu used the time he earned from his faster kill to raise the alarm and put his gift from Baatar to use for the very first time.

“Wraiths in the Citadel! All stations on alert! Wraiths in the Citadel!”

A blur of motion and a glint of light, these were the adversaries Nian Zu faced, stealthy creatures of air and shadow. Were it not for the chorus of chimes ringing off his new Runic shield, he might have wondered if his eyes were playing tricks on him, but no. The Enemy was here and intent on claiming his life, but Nian Zu would not sell it so cheaply. There was no need to speak or Send with his allies as they split the opponents between them, with Nian Zu charging forward to take three for himself while Rang Min and Gerel engaged two each on the flanks. Alas, given their relative starting positions, this meant crossing paths with his old nemesis and keeping Rang Min to his right, which gave the former Patriarch a tempting target if he should choose to take it. Thankfully, they were all too busy with their respective enemies to entertain thoughts of double dealing, and for all his flaws, Rang Min was not a man known for killing people in the dark.

No, when he had someone killed, he liked to make a public spectacle of things and rarely ever got his own hands dirty. That was simply his style, and it was an effective one at that, else he would not have survived as Situ Clan Patriarch for so long.

Putting aside his reservations, Nian Zu used his Runic shield to maximum effect and relied on honed intuition and innate Domain to track his foes’ positions. Having coveted one since seeing young Rain present four shields to Legate Shen ZhenWu, the long wait finally came to an end this past new years celebration when Baatar presented him with a gorgeous Runic Shield on behalf of his barely functioning son. Crafted by the multi-talented Medical Saint, these items were in extremely short supply, not only because of limited materials, but also because the Medical Saint could not be bothered to put much time into making them, unless it was for Falling Rain’s direct benefit. Though more than willing to outfit most of the boy’s elites with shields, the eccentric half-hare threw a fit when Baatar suggested they gift one to Nian Zu. It took an entire year to convince the Medical Saint otherwise, but it was well worth the wait. A rounded targe-style shield that measured a full meter in diameter, the massive Runic item covered more than a third of Nian Zu’s towering frame even without crouching and left precious few targets for opponents attacking from the left, allowing him to all but disregard them as he advanced upon his foes. Contrary to what most Warriors might think, the key to defeating Wraiths was to close in fast and kill them as quickly as possible, as their strength, speed, and skill left much to be desired. Surprise was their greatest weapon, with poison coming in next, but what few understood was that their third and fourth hidden weapons were patience and cunning.

The first few Wraiths had revealed themselves so as to distract Nian Zu from the second wave. Who knew if there was a third, fourth, or fifth wave of assassins already moving into place? Best to finish this quick and check on Yukun and the other guards outside, though he feared the worst considering they had yet to make an appearance.

Seizing the opportunity as it presented itself, Nian Zu broke formation and bull-rushed the two leftmost Wraiths with his shield while swinging his mace at the one on his right. Confident of killing his foe should the Wraith try to block, he tracked his ethereal foe with his Domain and readied to change course to follow his target’s inevitable dodge, but then something inexplicable happened before his very eyes. The doomed Wraith split into two – no, four separate forms, separate and distinct shadowy figures each in possession of their own Domains that scattered off in four directions, and for the life of him, Nian Zu could not pick one to follow. His mace swung through empty air as the four apparitions rallied for their counter, leaving him rushing to recover and come up with a move to protect him against all four.

How was this possible? Were there four Wraiths moving as one? Why would they even do such a thing?

These were the thoughts running through Nian Zu’s mind as he calmly picked out the best route of defence. Parry the rightmost Wraith’s low attack and follow through with a block on the one to the left, then counterattack the middle two to force them away. His mace moved without conscious direction to execute his will, the actions ingrained in muscle memory from a long lifetime of diligent practice, yet nothing he ever encountered before prepared him for what came next. As his mace swept low to intercept the Wraith’s blade, his weapon passed harmlessly through his foe’s as if it were made of mist and light. So unexpected, Nian Zu experienced a momentary flash of panic as he unconsciously dodged the incoming attack before registering what happened, thereby ruining his entire plan and allowing the other three attacks through.

A quick jerk of his shield kept him safe from harm, but to his surprise, he only registered one impact when there should have been three. The relief was momentary as he sensed the other initial two Wraiths split into eight and launch their attacks from a myriad of angles, and were it not for the shield’s coverage, Gerel advancing on the left, and the limited space inside Yuzhen’s office, Nian Zu might well have taken an injury from the Wraiths’ poisoned blades. Already having some sense of his cunning foes’ game, he kept track of the impacts registering against his shield and figured out their trick. “There are only seven Wraiths,” he shouted, blocking a flurry of attacks as all three of them were driven back. “It is a trick of Concealment and Domain.”

Those were all the words he could squeeze out before being forced to focus on his opponents once more, for even his impenetrable Runic shield was not immune to the effects of natural law. The flurry of attacks were not the strongest he’d weathered, but they were not so insignificant as he would have expected from mere Wraiths. Though he’d heard tales of Runic items capable of blunting the effects of direct impacts, these shields were the Medical Saint’s first foray into Runic Inscription and lacked anything besides the most basic effects. The shield would negate Amplifications to some extent and remain virtually indestructible so long as the wielder had enough Chi to supply it, but there was no innate Deflection or dampening effect against impacts, and none of the flashier effects a Runic Craftsman like OuYang Yuhuan could craft. Still an impressive offering for the Medical Saint’s first Runic Inscription, especially considering OuYang YuSheng, Patriarch of his Clan and Yuhuan’s beloved younger brother, was still working on small rings and basic helmets despite years of personal lessons from his talented older sister.

Growling in frustration, Nian Zu sought out an opening amidst the swarm of shadowy apparitions arrayed against him. Were it not for his allies and Yuzhen behind him, he might well have admitted defeat and fled to fight another day. It was almost embarrassing to be pushed this hard by mere Wraiths, who were rarely all that skilled in actual combat, but these foes were unlike any he’d ever faced before. No, strike that, for he’d seen something like this before, when facing off against the Confessor in Fort Sinuji. Concealment was generally used to direct attention away from a subject, but the Confessor had somehow almost used the skill in reverse, drawing Nian Zu’s attention to arm and hand movements that weren’t really there. These Wraiths were doing the same thing, only on a much larger scale, launching a dizzying array of illusory attacks to feint and disorient their targets. Nian Zu had been able to see through the Confessor’s movements with relative ease, as the torturer only Concealed his arm movements while leaving his body’s posture uncovered, but these Wraiths were masters of Concealment and created shadowy duplicates of themselves that moved in ways indistinguishable from the original. This left him unable to differentiate reality from illusion through Domain alone, for each illusory foe also possessed their own distinct Domain.

Now this was a trick worth learning, something even Warriors of the Empire could use to good effect. Though these damnable bastards were only of middling strength, their speed was respectable and their tricks infuriating to go against. Three foes were simple enough to keep track of, but twelve? His eyes were even less than useless, an actual hindrance in this battle as his body reacted to sight despite knowing what he saw wasn’t real. Their flurry of movements overwhelmed his mind and left him helpless to act as he scrambled to block illusory attacks and make up for inadvertently exposed openings to the real Wraiths. At this rate, it would only be a matter of time before one of those poisoned daggers nicked flesh and set off a chain of events that would lead to his death.

Thankfully, they only had one blade each, else Nian Zu would be at a loss to block all their possible attacks, for even with his beloved Runic Shield, there was no way to guard high, low, left, and right all at the same time. Thankfully, his allies were a capable pair and helped guard his flanks, allowing him to press forward once more and in turn take pressure off them. By protecting his front and leaving his sides exposed, he wanted to draw the Wraiths in to attack and expose them to Gerel and Rang Min’s longswords, both of which possessed enough range to engage their foes without too much risk, an advantage Nian Zu’s weapon lacked. A defensive centre and offensive flankers, this was a tried and true tactic that scaled well no matter the number of combatants involved, one which they all fell into without need for orders or conversation. It felt strange to rely on his oldest and most hated foe to keep him safe, but war and politics made for strange bedfellows, as Du Yi used to always say.

The incidental reminder of his lost love and the nostalgia of fighting in close quarters reminded Nian Zu of a different time, an earlier time when he was still several decades removed from becoming a Colonel General. When first signing on for a fifty year term with the Imperial Army, it seemed like a noble and glorious endeavour, but at thirty four years of age, he had long since regretted the decision. His age only hammered home how much longer he had to serve, for he would be sixty-eight when his term of service came to an end, and the realization that he would be twice his current age at retirement was a harsh one indeed. It came hot on the heels of his promotion to Major, one he believed was long overdue, and in truth, it was, because the Society had made it so. Having been betrayed by family, Clan, and Society, Nian Zu trusted nothing and no one, for even supposed friends could turn into deadly enemies once money and politics entered the mix. As such, Nian Zu had never taken a Mentor, not after uncovering two would-be prospects who’d been sent by his enemies to ruin him, and thus could only rely upon himself to progress along the Martial Path.

Not a problem for Nian Zu, at least not until recently. Others called him a prodigious talent, but he never bought into it and worked harder than any three of his peers combined. For this, the Mother Above rewarded his efforts with Insights aplenty. Core Creation had come easily to him, like learning how to breathe in a different, yet wholly natural way, and after signing his life away to the Imperial Army, he quickly moved up the ranks thanks to his many high-profile duels against Society adherents and speedy progress through the Martial milestones. Aura Condensation and Natal Palace Formation were both easily achieved, to the point where he hardly even remembered how it happened anymore, for success had arrived as naturally as facial hair upon his chin or swelling muscles along his frame, just another facet of his life as a Martial Warrior.

And so, when he encountered his first bottleneck in Domain Development, a term he had never even heard of at the time, it left him at a loss on how to proceed.

While there were rumours aplenty regarding Auras and Natal Palaces, there wasn’t much publicly known about the next milestone, so he suffered through two years without significant progress which sent him spiralling into depression. Hardly surprising considering the Martial Path was all he had, for he lived an empty, meaningless life devoid of joy and good company. By day, he served on the Wall and duelled when the occasion demanded it, and by night, he trained alone in a bastion occupied by half a million soldiers, admired by some, mocked by others, and shunned by all who were wary of the Society’s long reach. He had peers and subordinates, but no friends, lovers, or even comrades in arms, a quiet, lonely existence in which he played his part and did nothing else. Not a problem so long as he lived in the moment, caring not where he was headed or what goals he hoped to achieve as he proceeded ever forward without aim or direction.

And then after two years of stagnation, he was finally promoted to Major alongside several of his peers, people he thought he’d left far behind but were now hot on his heels and threats to be wary of.

Thus, the veil lifted on the Society’s long con, for they left Nian Zu to run free and his reputation to grow while delaying his promotion so that his well-instructed peers would have more time to catch up. Now when they defeated him, they would prove the Society’s superiority, for while Nian Zu’s talent allowed him to stand out as a youth, without the Society to nurture him, he was nothing more than a rose stuck in dog-shit. His promotion had been delayed because the Imperial Army only fostered Major-level talents, for junior officers were all too readily available. As a Major, however, he was finally given access to the information he needed to progress along the Martial Path, since increased Martial Strength was a requirement for further promotion. In the official paperwork that came along with his new rank, there was a caveat that he could only keep his rank if he was able to Develop a Domain, which was actually Nian Zu’s first time ever seeing these words used in reference to the Martial Path.

And thus the Society bought their sons and daughter time while delaying Nian Zu’s progress along the Martial Path.

Though he despaired over all the wasted time, he did not give up hope, for according to a helpful hint from his immediate commander, Feng Dao De, Nian Zu would have never been cleared for promotion if he hadn’t already shown signs of a Developing Domain. Granted, the older Warrior had helped move things along, not because he wanted to help Nian Zu in particular, but because he believed a soldier’s contributions merited reward, else it was bad for overall troop morale. Thus, on the older Warrior’s advice, Nian Zu made a trip to the Northern Wall’s library to borrow all manner of literature, most of which touched upon the subject of becoming ‘One with the World’. The library was well-frequented by many adherents of the Society and lackies hoping to curry favour by bothering Nian Zu, so he spent most of his time in a dingy, run-down bar known for watering down their drinks and keeping the dining room well-lit long into the night.

Seated at his table one fateful night, Nian Zu was poring over dry memoirs and flowery poems when a stranger walked in. An incident worth noting in and of itself, here in this rarely patronized bar, especially by someone like this. A silver spoon noble son, from the looks of it, blessed with the unblemished skin and pleasing proportions of a Martial Warrior combined with the plump curves associated with good eating and a lack of dedicated effort. Easy to imagine why someone of means would come to a bar like this, and Nian Zu was right in assuming it wasn’t to save coin on candles.

“Congratulations,” the stranger began, the memory still fresh in Nian Zu’s mind like it just happened yesterday. “On the promotion,” he clarified, helping himself to a seat despite Nian Zu’s scowl, but not before laying down a silk handkerchief first. “Long overdue, but alas, your studies will have to wait.”

Despite relying on the safety his post in the Imperial Army provided, Nian Zu had long since learned the Mother provided for those who looked after themselves, so he drew his mace and slapped it down atop the table. “Your company is neither desired nor tolerated,” he began, inwardly reflecting on how those words were untrue, for the stranger seemed exactly Nian Zu’s type, a roguish intellectual who didn’t like getting his hands dirty yet would do so regardless if given proper motivation. A man of taste, but not one to shy at doing what is necessary, a trait all too uncommon in men of means. All the more reason to be wary of him and his maddeningly charming smile to boot, for they were the ones who tended to get things done. “Leave now of your own volition, or three seconds from now when I throw you out the door.”

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d done something of the sort, but the bar’s owner was understandably forgiving towards his only repeating client. The stranger had come prepared however, having done his research beforehand, and he didn’t mince words trying to convince Nian Zu to listen. “In less than three minutes time,” he began, jumping to his feet with hands raised and palms open as he walked backwards towards the door, “Teng Wei Sheng will walk through that door and pick a fight. Do what you will, but I suggest you refrain from humiliating him, as he was led to mistakenly believe you mocked his older brother soon after his death.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Nothing could be farther from the truth. Teng Wei Sheng died out on patrol, but not before alerting the rest of his squad about the waiting Defiled ambush. Nian Zu disliked the man in life, but there was nothing to be gained from mocking his heroic death, and even if there were, it was not something he would do. Nian Zu even said as much, to which the stranger stopped in his tracks and shrugged in response. “Wei Sheng is not the sharpest sword in the armoury,” he began, flashing that irascible smile before hurriedly explaining, “But he’s made the wrong sorts of friends who seek to use him for their own advantage. The Baiji Sect has thus far worked to shield you and other wayward Adherents from open retribution, albeit for no reason other then to annoy those who wish it were otherwise, but if you butt heads with the Sect Leader’s nephew and humiliate him in public, then things might change for the worse.” Shrugging, he added, “I tried explaining as much to Wei Sheng, but I wager he’s taken one too many punches to the head and failed to get through.”

After taking in all this information, Nian Zu narrowed his eyes and asked, “Your name?”

“Shing Du Yi,” the man said as he scurried out the door leaving his handkerchief behind, and thus closing the door on Nian Zu’s first meeting with the love of his life.

Despite all the personal journals, academic dissertations, and flowery poetry he’d gone through, none of it helped Nian Zu break through his bottleneck. No, he had Du Yi to owe for this, a fact he never understood until recently, when Dastan Zhandos mentioned One with the Self in Sinuji and Nian Zu took the time to consider it. Many hours spread over the last few months, in fact, as he was never one to dwell upon another person’s Martial Path, but something about One with the Self just made sense to him, and he wanted to understand why.

Before meeting Du Yi, Nian Zu had lived a life without meaning. Out of some sense of filial love and deep-rooted shame, he kept his ‘deviant tastes’ a secret and lived a celibate life, but Du Yi changed all that. As another outcast of the Society, Du Yi had been the one to direct Nian Zu towards the truth, one night many months after their first encounter, but before they became lovers. “Everyone is right to call you a black sheep, but not for the reasons you think,” Du Yi said, flashing his crooked grin and downing a cup of wine before continuing. “The sheep didn’t choose its colour, nor can it ever hope to change, but this does not make it less of a sheep than the others.” Taking Nian Zu’s hand, Du Yi looked him in the eyes and added, “You think being different means you’re nothing like the rest of us, and it’s true, but we’re all different in our own way, because that is how the Mother made us.”

This was the turning point in Nian Zu’s life, the moment when he learned to accept himself and stop fighting who he was. He still had to hide his love from the world at large and only ever met Du Yi in secret, but Nian Zu stopped pretending he was a man of stone without need of love or affection, both of which Du Yi provided in spades. He also taught him that there was joy to be had in life, and though he was dead and gone, the lessons he taught Nian Zu still remained, and he would not give into despair.

One with the Self. He was Nian Zu, Living Legend and Colonel General of the Empire, both lofty titles indeed, but he was also Situ Nian Zu, a remorseful son who mourned his parents despite all their flaws, and a regretful man who never got to marry the person he loved. Above all else, however, he was a man who held duty in high esteem, and while his duty to the Empire was to remain alive, he owed it to the man he loved to keep Du Yi’s daughter safe.

Nian Zu was not the girl’s father, nor would he ever be, but he would stand for Du Yi where he knew the man would be, always between danger and his beloved daughter.

This single affirmation was enough to bring his Domain out in full force, as he accepted his flaws and the world wholly accepted him in turn. Where it usually covered the span of two metres, now his Domain extended out to encompass the entire room and even beyond, bringing the world into focus with a clarity unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. The countless strands of the carpet, the number of beams in the roof, the concentrated scent of blood wafting in through the open window, Nian Zu became aware of all this and more without ever impacting his ability to focus on the important details. Ten Wraiths had come to take his life, and three lay dead upon the floor. The remaining seven used their uncanny abilities to hide from Nian Zu’s senses, but they could not hide from his empowered Domain. Though their conjured apparitions possessed their own Domains and were indistinguishable from the real Wraith, they had no weight or substance of their own, which meant only the real Wraiths scuffed their boots against hardwood and left indents in the carpet.

Once he was able to pick out their positions, defeating them was as easy as turning a hand. Charging forward shield first, he slammed into a Wraith and smashed his mace into the knee of a second while his third foe stepped out of position. They’d expected their many shadows to keep Nian Zu in check, but he was not fooled by them any longer. Finishing off his dazed and crippled foes, he gave his back to the third Wraith and struck down one of Gerel’s opponents, one who’d strayed too far to avoid an incidental attack from the young and impatient man. Difficult to say if it was luck or skill, but Gerel almost landed a hit on one foe, but left himself vulnerable to the other who wasted no time mourning his ally. Plunging the dagger deep into the Bekhai Warrior’s shoulder, the Wraith’s glee was short-lived as the plucky young dragon grinned and head-butted his foe unconscious.

Pausing long enough to see Gerel plunge his longsword into the fallen Wraith, Nian Zu backhanded the assailant approaching him from behind, still yet to understand that his movements were clear as day to Nian Zu’s eyes. Bones snapped as the Wraith died and Nian Zu considered stepping back to let Rang Min die. He was always of the opinion that the man was too dangerous to leave alive, for he cared about nothing and no one save for himself and his son, who he saw as an extension of himself. Gulong was Rang Min’s attempt to live vicariously through his son and have the loving father figure he’d always wanted, but the boy was spoiled rotten to the core and took advantage of his father’s indulgent love, a combination which drove them both to ruin.

Were their positions reversed, Rang Min would likely have left Nian Zu to die, but luckily for him, Nian Zu would never betray a Clansman, even one who’d been cast out from the Clan. A moment’s hesitation was all he took before hurling his mace at the Wraiths, killing both in one blow as the weapon pulped both their heads before bouncing off the office wall to land back in Nian Zu’s hand.

The room fell silent save for the sound of their panting breaths as Rang Min took Nian Zu’s measure. An eternity passed in an instant as they both considered what could have been if they’d put aside their differences and worked together from the start. When word of his father’s death arrived, Nian Zu was already considering if he should return to the fold and pledge allegiance to the Clan Patriarch. Then he was ambushed on his way home for the funeral, by killers Rang Min arranged, an event that culminated in him killing the Patriarch, his own grandfather, to take his place. What drove the man to commit such an atrocity, to murder the man who raised him like a son?

Seeing the question in Nian Zu’s eyes, Rang Min scoffed and shook his head, only to fall still as guards stormed into the room and secured the perimeter. “You think my Grandfather a paragon of virtue,” he Sent, his calm tones laced with uncharacteristic vitriol, “But you never knew the man. For love of Clan and Society, he drove my father to his death by killing my mother shortly after I was born, all because she was not a woman worthy of the Clan. Because of my low birth, nothing I did was ever good enough, not like the high-born Situ Nian Zu.” The last was said with a sneer, which was reportedly more emotion than Rang Min showed when Jia Ying cast him out, and Nian Zu was taken aback by the raw and intense hatred in his eyes. “He would have made you Patriarch you know, all because of blood and talent, so I showed him what a low-born Situ Clansman could do.” Straightening his sleeves to calm himself, he continued after a deep breath. “Most think our enmity was born of envy, and they would be right, but I never feared your Martial Skills, not even after seeing the heights you have risen to. I only ever feared your blood-line and gullibility, for you would have been the perfect puppet dancing on the Elder’s strings. Were it not for Jia Ying’s careful preparations and many concessions, I wager Chi Gan would have approached you soon enough with a plan to overthrow me, for you are a fool and an idealist, one all too easily manipulated.”

Though his words were cutting, Nian Zu heard a ring of truth in his tone, for he would truly make for an awful Clan Patriarch. Du Yi had said as much many a time, back when other Clansmen and Society Adherents still saw fit to include Nian Zu in their plans and attempted to sway him to their cause. Either way, Rang Min was a beaten dog now, one who was clearly terrified for his son, as well he should be. Jia Ying was a ruthless woman, one who would not hesitate to do whatever necessary to protect her own son, and Gulong was stuck firmly within her clutches.

“The past is the past,” Nian Zu Sent, shaking his head as he turned away. “I never hated you, nor do I hold any grudge against you or your boy. Aid Yuzhen well, and I will speak with Jia Ying about freedom for Gulong.” Neither Jia Ying nor Rang Min were capable of bringing back the Situ Clan of Nian Zu’s youth, the imagined, close-knit family that stuck together through thick and thin, but he would not let his Clan’s failings affect how he treated his kin.

The Bekhai looked after their own. Why should the Empire do any less?

Reminded of his comrade, Nian Zu turned to see how Gerel was doing, but contrary to his expectations, the Bekhai Warrior was up and about with Yuzhen at his side, the bloodied Wraith dagger in his hands and the wound already sealed shut. “So the rumours are true,” Rang Min muttered, eyes widening ever so slightly in muted surprise. “The Legate’s prowess in Healing is not due to phenomenal talent, or at least not his own.”

Flashing a feral grin, Gerel retorted, “A frog in a well, that is what you are, for you know not –”

Pinching his side to seal his lips, Yuzhen did a fine job appearing calm and in control, but the white-knuckled grip on her sword gave the game away. “The Bekhai have several young talents of note,” she declared, her icy glare doing little to faze Rang Min. “The Legate and my husband are but two of many.”

No doubt they were speaking about the rumoured Healing method, one so simple even an uneducated Warrior could pick it up. Yet another miracle which sprang from their victory on the second lines, one of many that had yet to be explained. The Healers of Central had yet to come to an agreement on how the technique worked, for they did not understand how to put it to use, because most Warriors capable of utilizing this newfangled technique lacked the education necessary to properly describe it. They only knew it was now possible to Heal without possessing an in-depth knowledge of the human body, and Yuzhen had prevented Gerel from inadvertently confirming Falling Rain knew how to use it as well. Still, the minor slip was enough for Rang Min to draw his own conclusions, and the snake of a man no doubt filed away this knowledge for future use.

While they played their games of lies and half-truths, Nian Zu took control and declared Yuzhen’s office his command centre from which he would oversee the defences. Standard protocol during a Wraith attack was for high ranking officers to remain in place and await sufficient reinforcements before moving to a central location, a measure to make sure they were not to be ambushed en route, but it grated on his nerves to sit here while soldiers under his command fought and died. Ten soldiers had already died for him, six of Yuzhen’s guards and four of Nian Zu’s, including one of his best and brightest, Singing Spear Shi Yukun. Without his warning, they all might have died in Yuzhen’s office, but it came at a great cost. To think, this humble Warrior and Hero of the Empire, a man who’d taken up arms at Sinuji and Castle Jianghu and survived two of the bloodiest battles to date, would fall here in the heart of the Citadel where the Empire was strongest. This Warrior fulfilled his duty and saved the day, though it would bring little comfort to his grieving family. Shi Yukun’s parents would now have need to bury their son, and his children their father, two tribulations no person should ever have to experience, all because Shi Yukun had pledged to keep Nian Zu safe.

Defiled Chieftains and Demons were the Father’s most powerful minions, but for Nian Zu, Wraiths would forever be the most hated.

This death marked yet another debt to be laid at the Enemy’s feet, one of many incurred on this bloody day. The Wraiths who succeeded at their tasks were quick to fade away, blending into the shadows where they were invisible to all but the keenest of inspections from Warriors considered high priority targets. Since those were all under lock and guard, the Wraiths were all but free to pick and choose their targets as they pleased, and they did not limit themselves to Elites. They slaughtered soldiers and civilians with little rhyme or reason, set fire to warehouses full of much needed food and equipment, and one Wraith group even targeted a stable full of warhorses, though that ended poorly as their improved Concealment proved to be of little use against the well-trained beasts.

It gave Nian Zu some small measure of satisfaction to learn the two Wraiths were kicked and stomped to death by a warhorse when they approached her without caution. A better death than they deserved, but alas, not all horses could be so brave.

Thankfully, the Royal Guardians protecting the Imperial Scions were more than up to the task, else the Emperor might take umbrage at Nian Zu’s failure to protect them. They came under heavy attack as well, but they’d been playing Mah Jong together and thus were easily secured. Why all four were in the Northern Citadel, he did not know nor did they care to say, only that they had a meeting with Consort Zheng Luo that had been delayed by Falling Rain’s unexpected recovery.

Over the next half day, Nian Zu’s people clashed directly with the Wraiths on five more occasions, three of those attacks led by Akanai herself. Considering her formidable strength and ability to match the monstrous Bai Qi in single combat, Akanai was high on the list of assets to protect, but the woman refused to ‘hide in a box and wait for death’. Instead, she set out to hunt the Wraiths using herself as bait, with her elite Khishig guards proving themselves more than a match for their foes. These were not the leather-clad, bow wielding, quin-riding Khishigs Nian Zu was familiar with, but a small, elite group of veiled Warriors whose origins he was uncertain of. Gerel was no help there, simply shrugging when asked and saying nothing more, and even Yuzhen was of no help here. “He won’t even tell me,” she Sent, and Nian Zu detected a hint of petulance in her voice. Du Yi had spoiled her rotten, and it would have been a miracle if she turned out even half as competent as she did, but somehow she managed to exceed all expectations. “I believe they’re independent from the Bekhai,” she continued, unwilling to let secrets lie, “And only loosely associated with the Khishigs. I would look to the Medical Saint for answers, as I suspect he is their tie to the Bekhai, but this is only my personal conjecture.”

Despite Akanai’s heroic efforts, Nian Zu’s tally of the dead grew as the hours passed by, and still the Enemy forces had yet to be caught. It wasn’t until mid-afternoon that he finally felt confident enough to call off the search, but not before ordering his people to remain under heavy guard at all times. It was only then that he had time to consider the implications, sitting behind Yuzhen’s desk with Akanai across from him. “This morning you claimed the boy came under attack from Wraiths,” he began, drumming his fingers across the desk in barely concealed unease. “Is it possible these attacks were carried out by the survivors?”

“Not only possible, I would say it is likely.” Seeming utterly at ease and unperturbed by the attacks, Akanai looked none the worse for wear after a long day’s work. The woman was something else, and he’d long since petitioned to have her raised to the rank of Colonel General, but the matter was out of his hands. The Emperor’s Seal was required in order to appoint anyone to the rank of General Officer, meaning Major Generals and higher, but the Imperial Clan cut off all communications after Legate Shen ZhenWu’s injury and Yang Jixing’s death. No doubt they were still discussing how to best discipline their ‘barbarian subjects’, but Nian Zu cared little for what the Imperial Clan thought about them so long as the promised coin kept coming. The Outer Provinces would have long since beggared themselves paying for the Western Wall and the soldiers to defend it, though according to Yuzhen, the future looked promising as these investments began paying dividends, especially after Falling Rain cut out so many middlemen by populating the border with millions of working class families.

Nian Zu was stalling for time, letting his mind wander because he did not want to have this difficult conversation, but there was nothing to be done about it. The words had to be said, and from the looks of things, Akanai knew it as well. “If this is the case,” he began, wishing he’d asked Yuzhen for help choosing his words, just like he used to ask Du Yi, “Then how is it Rain still draws breath?”

Thankfully, Akanai was a frank and forthright woman who took no offence at his straightforward question. “I asked myself the same question and can only hope it is because he was stronger than they were.”

“Stronger than twenty-six confirmed Wraiths?”

“At least forty,” she corrected, looking both sickly and proud at the same time. “We assumed he killed between seven to ten Wraiths out by the district, but that was before we knew these Wraiths carried only one blade each. Now we can assume he killed at least fourteen, as that is the number of unique shattered blades we uncovered, and we know there were more on scene to remove the bodies.”

Fourteen of the elite Wraiths Nian Zu just fought... three were enough to give him trouble, so how could Rain, even a version of him capable of slipping past his guards unseen and unleashing the Mountain Collapsing Stomp, manage against fourteen, much less a combined forty? The boy had a proven knack for seeing through Concealment, but even this couldn’t make up for a vast disparity in strength. “At least now we know why they removed the bodies.” These killers looked no different from a regular Imperial Warrior, and could’ve simply strolled through the gates in plain view to avoid the patrols of Experts on high alert for Concealed individuals. Had Akanai warned them in advance, Nian Zu might have been able to keep these Wraiths from entering as easily as they did, since they had measures in place to prevent infiltration as well.

“Enough of this dancing about,” Akanai said, shaking Nian Zu from his thoughts. “Speak your mind and be done with it.”

It was easy to forget he was speaking to a senior, rather than a fresh faced girl only a little older than Yuzhen. Feng Dao De would have liked Akanai, though perhaps a little too much considering the old goat was survived by twelve wives and forty children. “Are we certain,” he Sent, resisting the urge to cradle his Runic Shield, “The Wraiths Rain fought were there to kill him?”

“His injuries would support that theory,” she Sent, not at all put off by what Nian Zu was suggesting, meaning she had already considered it herself. “The boy took several near fatal wounds, and might well have died if he wasn’t so proficient at Healing. I’m told that he’s been out of sorts all day, ambling about in a waking fugue and barely responding to commands, but he’s acting with agency and ate quite the hearty breakfast and lunch as well, though that means little considering how healthy his appetite was yesterday.”

“So we have a recently recovered Rain who is strong enough to single-handedly see off a forty Wraith attack, only for the survivors to run rampant in the Citadel.” Heaving a sigh mid-Sending, he shook his head and added, “You understand how this looks?”

“Indeed. I too fear that the boy has turned or worse. Perhaps the Wraiths were sent there to collect him, much like the enemy has been collecting Demons and other Defiled talents.”

How could anything be worse than turning Defiled? Stifling the urge to ask, Nian Zu stayed on point and Sent, “You fear. Not feared. So you have yet to clear him?” And still let him wander about free? Sometimes, he questioned the wisdom of the Bekhai and their ways, but it worked for them thus far and he could only pray it would continue working for the interim.

“...I cannot say for certain,” she began, her tone cautiously optimistic, “But I believe it is still Rain in there, the same boy the pup brought home from the mines. What this means for us, I am not sure, but... I have faith in him, and believe he would never hurt the people he loves and cares about.”

“Then I hope your faith is well placed.” For if Falling Rain had turned Defiled, then the Empire might well be on its last legs.

The office door opened and an Imperial Messenger entered, his chest heaving with exertion from the journey as he knelt and bowed his head. Though he’d left orders not to be disturbed, the Imperial Messenger arrived bearing a scroll sealed with the emergency signet, which meant he carried news of the utmost importance. Dismissing the Sound Barrier around them, Nian Zu came to his feet and prompted the Messenger to speak. “Suihua Harbour has come under heavy attack and Brigadier Zheng He requests reinforcements.”

Damn it all to hell. The Wraiths were a precursor to an attack, one meant to knock him off guard. “Send word to Major General Han BoHai,” he commanded, even while Sending to the man himself. Lacking the necessary details, he frowned at the still kneeling Messenger and said, “The scroll, if you will?”

“By your command, General.”

That was all the warning he had, a single slip of the tongue, for Imperial Messengers spoke with the Emperor’s voice and would never lower His status by answering in so servile a manner. Leaping back as the blade slashed through empty air, Nian Zu drew his mace and flung it underhanded into his assailant's chest, an attack which landed just as the disguised Wraith’s head toppled off his neck. Barely able to keep his jaws closed, he nodded at Akanai in thanks, for even if he hadn’t noticed the slip, she had matters well in hand.

Two more debts he’d incurred today, different from the ones laid at the Enemy’s feet, but just as important he pay them back.

Grimacing as he picked up the discarded scroll, he inspected the seal and read the contents with a scowl. “The Messenger was a Wraith, but the armour, banner, and message are all real. The harbour has truly come under attack, and now I must wonder if any other Imperial Messengers bearing vital news were also intercepted.”

After a short pause, Akanai responded to the rhetorical question. “Unsure, but there are attacks being carried out all along the Western Border even as we speak, small Defiled raiding parties looking to slip through and cause chaos.” In answer to the unasked question, she shrugged and Sent, “I set up a Khishig Sending line as soon as I arrived last year. One can never be too careful when it comes to military intelligence.”

Making the woman a Colonel General would be a disservice to her skills, not just her foresight, but the sheer loyalty she inspired in her Martial Warriors. Even Nian Zu himself would be hard pressed to find enough Sending capable Warriors willing to take a post as boring and unrewarding as relay Sender, but alas, the Empire had no higher rank to offer her. “Your insight and advice would be appreciated in these troubling times,” he said, acknowledging her as his intellectual superior for the first time ever. Pulling out a map of the Western Border, he held it out for Akanai to inspect and said, “If you would be so kind as to mark down the locations of each attack?”

Despite a long and stressful day spent hunting Wraiths, Nian Zu’s work was not yet done, for the Enemy was on the offensive once more. There would be bloody days ahead, but this meant there would be plenty of opportunities to collect on his debts and interest to boot. The mystery of Falling Rain would have to wait, but so long as the boy didn’t try to seize control of the defences using his Office of Legate, Nian Zu supposed it would be fine to sit and wait.

After all, there were many reasons why he couldn’t simply order the boy killed, the least of which was because he really didn’t want it to come to this. Like Akanai, he also had faith in Falling Rain, for Nian Zu truly believed that boy was the Chosen Son of the Mother Above.

And if he had truly turned against them, then the Mother might well have forsaken them all...

Chapter Meme