“That. Rat. Fucking. Bastard!”
Cursing his father in between gasps, Jorani collapsed to his hands and knees and relished the feel of firm earth beneath him. The first time he took a journey through the skies, he’d already decided Cloud-Stepping was not for him, but Monk Happy was a hard man to say no to. At least this trip went better than his first experience, because even though the strong winds and cold air left him breathless and exhausted, he didn’t scream himself silly or go blind from the air pressure or gales of wind, so that was something. Monk Happy had done something to protect him, Jorani knew it like he knew the sky was blue and water wet, so once he finished quietly thanking the Heavens for his continued survival, he nodded at the smiling monk in thanks for his efforts. “Don’t know what it cost ye,” he began, still out of sorts from the harrowing trip, “But thanks fer... I dunno. Making the trip a damn sight more comfortable than the first. If only me own father was so considerate, eh?”
It was meant as a joke, but his words came out more bitter than intended and Monk Happy wasn’t one to let it pass without commentary. “Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo,” the hefty monk began, his ever present smile taking on a sympathetic tinge as his hands made the mudra of intellectual discussion. “This monk offers no excuses for Gang Shu’s behaviour, but would be remiss if he did not point out the disparity between Junior Brother’s two experiences. On your first journey, you travelled with your brother, a Martial Warrior of no small skill but not yet a Peak Expert, and your father, a free-holding Ancestral Beast who owed his freedom due to a treaty which had then already been broken. Were you to come under attack from a threat worthy of Gang Shu’s consideration, then you and your brother would have been in grave danger, as even an Ancestral Beast would find it difficult to fight and protect two people at the same time. As such, he opted to move with maximum speed and stealth, thereby subjecting you to significant but non-lethal pain and hardship rather than take the admittedly minor risk of near certain death if your party should come under attack.”
There was a time when Jorani would’ve accepted the words at face value and grumbled about it anyways, but he was older and wiser now, so he took a moment to consider what Monk Happy was saying. Pretending to glance around at his surroundings, Jorani casually inspected his travelling companions to try and understand the Monk’s underlying message. There was Lady Mei Lin’s veiled guards, a group of women who rarely ever spoke out loud and kept to themselves, as well as Lady Li Song and her wagon full of pets. Aside from that, there was the bossman himself, who unbelievably Cloud-Stepped here without any assistance, with Monk Happy and Kukku rounding their little group out.
So unless there were more hidden protectors lurking about in Concealment, Monk Happy believed this gathered group of individuals was stronger than an Ancestral Beast. Or stronger than Gang Shu at least, who Jorani suspected did not rank amongst the strongest of his kind, seeing how he was done in by the rooster’s surprise attack. The other part of Jorani’s reasoning was simple; there were no other Ancestral Beasts who wore Runic Armour, but admittedly, the logic was flawed. Perhaps other Ancestral Beasts just weren’t as paranoid as Gang Shu, whose instincts might lean towards caution and cowardice, or maybe the others didn’t care enough to gather a set, or were unable to due to financial constraints or lack of the right connections. Either way, Jorani was in good company this time around, and he looked forward to seeing Eyebrows, Bones, and the rest of the monks he met and trained with so many months ago.
It honestly felt good to be back here, though part of that might just be because his two feet were touching solid ground again. They hadn’t Cloud-Stepped right up to the monastery gates, but Jorani spotted the walls a little ways away, maybe a fifteen minute trek through rough but beautiful trails if they took their time. Little had changed since he last left, though he noted there was more smoke billowing out of the chimneys than he remembered. The monks were hard at work preparing the mid-day meal no doubt, and Jorani looked forward to tasting those delectable steamed buns once again. Honestly, there was nothing in all of Central that could match up to the Brotherhood’s cooking prowess, which was almost good enough for Jorani to overlook the whole ‘vegetarian eunuch’ aspects of membership. That’s how delicious the food was, and he’d been craving a taste ever since he left, so he hoped there was plenty to go around.
It was a nice feeling, having returned somewhere he felt safe and welcome, which was something Jorani hadn’t experienced since leaving home all those years ago. Things weren’t terrible back at the Citadel, where he had his own yurt and enjoyed a small measure of fame thanks to his exploits on the battlefield. He even managed to save a decent amount of coin thanks to his recent promotion to thousand-man commander under Major Mister Rustram, but despite his happy days, his nights felt empty and meaningless without someone to share them with. It wasn’t about sex, or not just about sex, but he wanted what Ral and Chey had, what Mister Rustram and Lady Sai Chou found, and what the bossman and Lady Mei Lin shared. A lady love to share his life with, that was Jorani’s dream, but thus far, all his efforts to fulfill this dream had fallen woefully flat.
The problem was, even he wasn’t sure what he wanted in a wife. He wanted someone to spoil him, but also a partner to stand beside, someone who would understand where he came from, but also had ambition and purpose beyond just him. He wanted someone smart, but not too smart, kind, but not overly sweet, generous, but not to the point of stupidity, and savvy, with just a hint of ruthlessness. There were more requirements to go through, but even this preliminary list was difficult enough, so he worried he might never meet a woman who checked all his boxes.
Of course, gorgeous and adventurous went without saying, two requirements which were already difficult to fulfill as is.
Since their group didn’t seem to be moving, Jorani wanted to ask Monk Happy what the hold up was, but the Monk was lost in silent conversation with one of Lady Mei Lin’s guards, the one who carried the whole damned wagon all by herself. Now there was a gorgeous woman worth chasing, Jorani could tell without needing to see her face or know her age, but he lacked the courage to try and strike up a conversation considering he’d seen her punch her way out of the biggest damned shark there ever was. The other guards were almost as intimidating, and Lady Li Song only marginally less, so Jorani made his way over to the bossman’s side and tried to strike up a conversation. “So turns out ye were hidin’ yer true strength after all,” he began, cheeks hurting as he grinned with glee. “Never doubted ye fer a second.” Not entirely true, for the bossman was a damned fine actor and Jorani had almost written him off more than once.
Even now, the bossman pretended not to understand what Jorani was saying, studying him with those bright amber eyes and an inscrutable expression. A fun word that, inscrutable, but as the seconds stretched on without answer, Jorani sensed something wasn’t quite right. The bossman really seemed to be struggling to understand what Jorani just said, the confusion and frustration somehow pouring off of him in palpable waves, and they were both at a loss on how to proceed. Then Lady Mei Lin reached up and waved her dainty hand in front of the bossman’s eyes, drawing his attention back towards her. With a smile and a scrunch of her nose, she seemed to set his mind at ease and he went back to staring around at the surroundings in childlike wonder, with Jorani’s interruption all but forgotten.
Odd, that.
Glancing at Lady Mei Lin for an explanation, she shrugged and proclaimed, “Hubby isn’t really right in the head, ya? It’s okay though, he’s mostly fine, just a little kookier than Daddy can be when he’s reallllllly focused on something.”
Hardly glowing praise considering the Medical Saint’s well known eccentricities, but Jorani wasn’t about to point that out to the man’s daughter, so he just nodded and studied the bossman a little closer. At first glance, nothing seemed to be wrong with him, because he was just... standing there, holding Lady Mei Lin’s hand and petting Kukku who was pressed up against him. The silly rooster fawned over the bossman like one of his beloved pets, and even had a bunch of fledgling laughing birds nestled in his feathers, their heads poking out along his crown and back like babies with their momma. Kukku wasn’t even this friendly with Monk Happy, and only the Abbot enjoyed such warm affection, but then again, the bossman always did have a way with animals. Still, other than his distant gaze and stony expression, nothing really jumped out at Jorani on closer inspection, so whatever the bossman’s problem might be, it only really seemed to affect him when someone tried talking to him.
Only talking though, as Lady Mei Lin already demonstrated that he had no trouble understanding hand gestures, facial expressions, and body language. Odd that, for words to get all mixed up only for non-verbal communication to get through clearly. Usually for people it was the other way around, with animals being better at reading physical cues and whatnot, but this was a mystery for more clever minds than Jorani’s. He supposed that’s why they were here at the monastery, so the bossman could get help with his condition, but why they were wasting time standing around outside was still a mystery yet to be solved.
However, no one else seemed put off by the delay, with the bossman wandering around hand in hand with Lady Mei Lin while investigating all manner of trees and plants. Lady Li Song paid them no mind as she consoled the terrified bears, and everyone else just stood around and stared. One thing Jorani noticed was Monk Happy’s strained smile, which really showed how stressed the man was considering Jorani had only ever seen him angry when sparring. Whatever discussion they were having evidently wasn’t going well, but Jorani wasn’t about to stick his head in where it don’t belong.
Hang on.
“Where’d the bossman disappear to?” he asked, and the surroundings suddenly got a lot emptier. Save for a single veiled guard to protect Lady Li Song and her wagon of pets, everyone else had gone chasing after the bossman, who disappeared sometime between blinks. Unsure what to do or which direction to head in, he looked to Lady Li Song for guidance, whose pretty lips were pursed in a pleasant pout. Lifting the quivering bears back in the wagon, she whistled to recall all the wayward animals before positioning herself at the yoke and pulling the vehicle like a beast of burden. No easy task pulling that wagon, not even for a formidable Martial Warrior given how there was only a bumpy dirt trail to follow as opposed to a smooth paved path, but it really hammered home just how strong that gorgeous guard leader really was. Even though Lady Li Song didn’t spare so much as a glance for Jorani, he felt all out of sorts just following behind while leaving her to do all the work, so he stepped over and reached for the yoke while asking, “Err, how ‘bout I lend a hand?”
Though he wasn’t exactly expecting gratitude from the stony half-wildcat, he also didn’t expect she’d respond to his offer with unwarranted suspicion, drawing back and letting go of the yoke to fondle her sabre’s hilt. Holding both hands up on reflex, he backed away before her wary gaze and wished he’d thought to grab his Spiritual Rope on the way up, but it was still hanging from his belt where it was utterly useless to defend him. Too many months of easy living had worn down his battle-honed instincts, not that they’d been all that sharp to begin with, but maybe it was for the best, because he’d hate to think what might’ve happened if he raised his weapon against her.
Even if he was strong enough to keep his small life, or maybe possibly even overpower her, he couldn’t imagine the vigilant veiled guard would stand idly about while he trussed up her charge...
After what felt like forever, Lady Li Song relaxed and shook her head, wordlessly indicating she didn’t want his help, which was really all she needed to do. Unsure what to do next, Jorani simply followed her and her wagon while cursing his innate cowardice which he thought he’d long since left behind. He was a Martial Warrior with a Natal Palace for Heaven’s sake, but all it took was a glare and a huff from the gorgeous Lady Li Song to leave him quaking in his boots. Why? He’d faced off against Defiled Chieftains and Demons who were less terrifying than she, and even the surly Lady Sumila didn’t scare Jorani this much.
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Maybe it was just Heaven’s cruel fate, or a quirk of the Mother’s humour, given how he was a half-rat and she a half-wildcat. To quail before her predatory stare was only natural after all, especially since he wasn’t wearing his suit of Runic Armour. Daxian never let those suits out of his sight, and since he was off doing Mother knows what, Jorani was left to do without. A good thing though, seeing as he was just a small, thousand-man commander, one who would be utterly helpless to resist the covetous Peak Experts after his Runic Armour. The only reason he hadn’t been inundated with demands to hand it over was because everyone knew it really belonged to Gang Shu, and few families were powerful enough to risk an Ancestral Beast’s ire, even one who’d taken injury like the old bastard had. Well, this and the fact that Jorani’s slight build meant his armour didn’t fit too many Martial Warriors, given how he was shorter and slimmer than most. A shame the bossman was even shorter and slimmer, else Jorani would’ve asked Daxian to give the second set to him, but such is life, as it were, and there was nothing any of them could do about it.
At least the bossman still had some years of growing left to do, and it wasn’t unheard of for Warriors in their early twenties to hit one final growth spurt. Amazing as the man’s talents and accomplishments might be, his lacking height left much to be desired.
Or so one might think until they watched him go toe to toe with a Peak Expert.
Jorani heard the din of battle long before he spotted them, and he sprinted ahead to see if he could help, but what he found left him shocked and speechless. At first, the blur of motion made it all but impossible to tell who the participants were, and from the sounds of things, Jorani would’ve assumed there were a dozen Warriors trading blows in the general vicinity, but then the fighting paused for all of a second revealing the bossman and Monk Happy as the culprits. Perplexed anger rolled off the bossman as he stood with sword in hand, his emotions directed at Monk Happy standing across from him, but with no answer forthcoming, the bossman’s patience wore thin and the whole kerfuffle started up again.
Reaching for Balance, Jorani steadied his breathing and found Enlightenment as the world slowed around him, which brought the bossman’s conflict against Monk Happy into reasonable view. Though Jorani still had difficulty following their every movement, he could at least watch the general flow of battle play out. Always on the offensive, the bossman pushed forward with blade drawn and teeth bared, seeking to fight his way past the smiling Monk Happy. Calm and understanding were etched across his face, the cheerful Monk fighting with almost casual ease as he fended off the bossman’s flurry of attacks. Neither one were going for the kill, with the bossman’s sword arcing in crippling cuts rather than killing thrusts, and to Jorani’s eyes, it seemed like he had at least three such opportunities to end things. In contrast, Monk Happy’s spade twirled lazily about, more concerned with keeping the bossman away as opposed to protecting the wielder, but regardless of their pulled punches, there was no denying their superlative skills.
Jorani didn’t even have the words to describe it, but every strike, parry, block, and step seemed to contain countless mysteries of the Martial Path within, and he lost precious seconds trying to unravel those mysteries in real time as opposed to committing the whole thing to memory for later study. Lacking even the time to curse himself for the mistake, he fought the urge to blink and watched the battle unfold and felt himself improving just by being here. There, that step from the bossman was a variation on Stalking the Dragon, but not one Jorani had ever seen used, a long, quick step when most kept that particular Movement short and sweet, but somehow, it just made sense. Then there was Happy’s rejoinder, Dances in Grass, cutting off the bossman’s route forward and even driving him back several steps without putting either of them in any real danger. Back and forth they traded blows, zipping about the few meters of clear space they had, but while the area was tiny and limited, they utilized it to the fullest.
A short Cloud-Step saw the bossman soar over Monk Happy’s head, but the portly man snagged the bossman’s ankle and tossed him away. Somersaulting through the air like a circus acrobat, he landed on solid nothingness and propelled himself back forward, shaving a few tenths of a second off his landing time to hit the ground running, only to stop short to block a swing from Monk Happy. Sword met spade and the former rebounded away, taking the wielder with it as both sought to circle around the obstruction, but regardless of which direction he headed, the bossman found that unyielding spade blocking his way.
Speed, power, technique, these two had it all, and only now did Jorani realize just how strong they both were, far beyond Daxian and in a realm all Martial Warriors dreamed of but only a select few would ever reach.
This was a battle between Peak Experts at the very least, not quite on the level of Lieutenant General Akanai’s epic contest against Bai Qi, but nowhere near as far as Jorani would have once expected. Even though he’d just seen the bossman Cloud-Stepping with his own eyes, to progress this far in a single year was downright impossible, especially considering the bossman was supposedly a cripple who shattered his Core. Who knew if that was true anymore, but Jorani never really believed it, not entirely. Maybe the bossman’s Core had shattered leaving him weakened and wounded, but a cripple? Never. Even with his broken weapons and shattered Core, he still kicked the stuffing out of Gen on the fields of Sinuji, so there was some fight in him yet.
That was Jorani’s thinking at least, but it seemed like the bossman had hidden more than anyone suspected. A Peak Expert at twenty-one, now that was a feat which had thus far been unmatched. Maybe some genius Imperial Clansmen could match up, but here in the outer provinces, people would’ve called the bossman an unrivalled genius if he reached Peak Expert a decade from now, and still a rising dragon if he succeeded another decade after. That was the measurement of a Peak Expert, with most Martial Warriors seeing their fortieth birthday before progressing that far along the Martial Path, and it wasn’t unheard of for even Warriors of note to succeed only after they turned fifty or even sixty years old.
But for Falling Rain? Twenty-fucking-one, after starting his training late at the age of twelve. Truly an unmatched genius, to the point where calling him a rising dragon seemed like an insult to his potential. No, he was already a dragon ascendant, one poised to shake the world with his Martial accomplishments, in addition to the change he’d already brought about through politics and finance.
Though they seemed more or less evenly matched, Jorani soon realized this was far from true, because despite their heated exchange, Monk Happy was doing his best not to hurt the bossman, but the same was not entirely true in reverse. As time wore on, the bossman’s patience started slipping and his attacks grew more vicious and reckless, no longer throwing measured cuts aimed to slice tendons and impair movements, but rather wild swings meant to remove whole limbs or cut into vital organs. He still refrained from dealing any killing thrusts, so there was that much at least, but Monk Happy stood his ground and fended off the bossman’s attacks without so much as touching a hair on his head.
And then the bossman snapped, and everything came to a standstill.
Playing the last bit back in his head, Jorani pieced together the sequence of events. The bossman snarled and emanated a rage unlike anything Jorani had ever experienced before, a primal fury promising death to his foes and any who might aid them. There was no hatred there, only wrath and violence, like a howling gale or raging storm, a burning wildfire or cascading avalanche, a force unleashed and power unrestrained.
Or was unrestrained right up until Monk Happy’s smile slipped and he overpowered Rain’s fury with a rage all his own.
If Rain was a forest fire, then Happy was an erupting volcano, one large enough to set the whole world aflame. Gone was the friendly monk and in his place was an avatar of rage and violence, one whose features were twisted in almost comical anger as he loomed over his foe with one hand pressed firmly against the younger man’s chest and paying no mind to the sword resting against his neck. Despite having come so far, the bossman still wasn’t willing to kill Monk Happy, but despite all his struggles to escape, it seemed as if Monk Happy’s palm weighed ten-thousand kilograms and refused to budge even a single millimetre.
“Enough,” Monk Happy uttered, his chest and shoulders heaving not from physical exertion, but the effort of reining in all his anger once more. “You will not harm them, not while a monk of the Brotherhood still draws breath. Cut me down and another will take my place, so give in to darkness or stay your hand.”
Good to know Jorani wasn’t the only one weaker than Monk Happy, though it raised the question of why the portly fellow saw fit to spar with him in the first place. Either way, upon hearing the monk’s statement and seeing the bossman struggle to understand it, Jorani finally tore his eyes away from the conflict and saw what all the fuss was about. Several metres behind Monk Happy sat a ramshackle little village, one that wasn’t there the last time he visited. Monks of all shapes and sizes stood shoulder to shoulder in a line guarding the village inhabitants, the latter of which held all manner of tools and weapons with which to defend themselves. They looked like they knew how to use them too, and as well they should, for each and every last one of them bore the mark of the Father’s foul touch upon them.
For this was a village of Defiled, here on the doorstep to the Brotherhood’s monastery.
Ugly was too simple a word to describe it, for these Defiled were not in any way hideous, unpleasant to gaze upon. There was a wrongness to them that was evident at first glance, but not something as obvious as a defect or disfigurement, though they had their fair share of scars and blemishes. It was the same gut reaction Jorani experienced when half-wildcat Li Song studied him like a threat, an instinctive fear and loathing of the other party. They were Defiled as Defiled could be, coated so thickly in sin one could simply sense it by looking at them, every bit the Father’s foul minions as Demons and Wraiths. While Jorani had known the Brotherhood’s doors were opened to the Defiled, it was another thing altogether to see them come together and support an entire tribe.
And supported they were, for those tools they held were meant for building new homes, better, sturdier ones to replace the ramshackle shelters. Already, Jorani could see a few such examples, homes which were not exactly expertly built, but far more serviceable than a bunch of twigs and leaves thrown together to provide shade. The Brotherhood was teaching them to build, and from the looks of things, cook and clean as well, for Jorani spotted fish and game roasting over campfires as well as wet clothing hanging on lines. For what it was worth, there were no Defiled Weapons amongst them, only wood axes, saws, shovels, and even sturdy wood poles, but he knew they would put up a damned hard fight if push should come to shove, and he had no intentions of pulling punches if things were to get so far.
The Brotherhood’s ideals were lofty and noble, but grounded in reality, they were not. These were Defiled, plain and simple, and leaving them alive was a risk he would not care to take. Best if they were...
Hang on...
Striding forward into the village, he absently greeted the monks he recognized and noted a few new faces in the crowd, but his attention was fixated on something else. Peering past monk Bones, he stopped in his tracks and realized why the Brotherhood were so adamant about protecting these Defiled. “They got their kids with them,” he said to no one in particular, before turning to the bossman with a disappointed stare, unsure what else to say. Seeing the bossman’s blank stare, Jorani moved aside and pointed into the trees at the splash of colour that caught his eye. The bossman saw it too, saw the kite clutched in the trembling hands of a frightened young child, one maybe five or six years of age. There were other children also spread about, some hiding in the trees while others peeked out from behind doors or other hiding spaces that were none too effective, and Jorani imagined there’d be more he couldn’t see.
The change in the bossman was startling to behold as his anger was replaced by guilt and self-recrimination. His sword dropped to the ground as he stared into the trees, and Jorani could almost read the thoughts behind them. How could I have done this? Am I a monster? Will the Mother forsake me for my actions? They were the same thoughts Jorani had after his first raid, when he came across some kids hiding in a cellar while bandits plundered their village clean. He hadn’t killed anybody, in fact, no one had died at all since the villagers were wise enough to pay their ‘taxes’, but even then, Jorani felt monstrous to the extreme for taking from people who already had so little to call their own. The bossman’s situation was far from the same, but he was harder on himself than anyone had a right to be. Shuffling over to nudge Monk Happy aside, Jorani extended a hand to the bossman and said, “I know ye didn’t see em, else ye wouldn’t have attacked, but the milk has been spilled and the damage done. Best ye can do is not make the same mistake again.”
Oddly enough, the bossman seemed to understand Jorani, or at least he didn’t struggle to comprehend it. Pulling him up on his feet, Jorani watched the bossman study the Defiled tribesmen for long seconds, with his focus lingering on the children hiding in the shadows. He didn’t move or react in any way, but Jorani felt his pain upon seeing how frightened all those kids were, but there was nothing else to be said. Out in the battlefield, even Jorani might not spare a Defiled child, but it was clear these they were trying to make a better life for themselves, and he could not bring himself to deny them even a chance. Granted, he didn’t expect any of this to work out and could only pray these Defiled all died before making it out of the Arid Wastes, but maybe they weren’t all that different from regular folk after all.
Because Defiled or not, they were ready to die for their children, and that had to be worth something. The barest minimum at least, since even wild beasts would fight to defend their young, but it was better than nothing.
Running out from her ring of Concealed guards, Lady Mei Lin made her way to the bossman’s side and took his hand from Jorani’s. “Thanks Jor-Jor,” she chimed, so charming and utterly unfazed by the hostilities. Then she forgot all about him as she drew the bossman’s attention, and the change was startling to see, his tensions melting away as he gazed into her eyes, though his self-deprecating attitude remained firmly fixed in place.
Turning to the crowd of monks, Jorani took a moment to consider what he should say, whether to warn the monks of Defiled tendencies or maybe threaten the Defiled tribesmen to behave. In the end, after taking another look at the children in the trees, Jorani merely sighed and tossed his rucksack aside. “Alright,” he began, striding over to the crowd to get a better view of their construction efforts. “Looks like y’all are buildin’ a village, so let’s get it done.” The Defiled didn’t seem to understand him, so he looked to the monks instead, namely Monk Happy who was beaming from ear to ear. “Well? C’mon now, we burnin’ sunlight here.”
The Brotherhood meant well, they really did, and Jorani didn’t have the heart to dissuade them. He really hoped he was wrong and these Defiled would really forsake the Father and become proper people again, but if there was killing that needed to be done, he would gladly do it in the Brotherhood’s stead. By helping them out, not only could he see how the Defiled behaved with his own eyes and draw his own conclusions, but he might even win their trust and make his job easier if the worst should come to pass.
Flashing a smile at the kids in the trees and doing his best not to see their faces, he grabbed a stack of timber and prayed things would never get that far.
Chapter Meme