Having lived in the shadow of not one, but two monstrous Ryo family scions, Hideo had hoped to bear witness to the Sword King’s demise, but alas, Mataram YuChun was not up to the task.
A single exchange was all it took to decide this match between Peak Experts, with the Sword King unleashing a barrage of ineffable Chi skills that inspired awe and terror alike. There on the battlements, his titular weapon shone with radiant light, a beacon of hope in the darkness of night on the eve of what should have been the beginning of the end. Peak Experts and Demons alike fell to his luminescent attacks, rays of scything sword light delivered from afar. These scintillating attacks ignored armour and severed flesh with laughable ease, and the Sword King unleashed hundreds, if not thousands of them in the span of a few minutes. Everywhere he appeared, the Chosen offensive faltered and fell back, unable to contest with this God of War given flesh, his speed unmatched and fury unabated as he dealt death to all who stood in his path. Weeks of preparation had gone into this attack, with every scenario and variable painstakingly accounted for in Gongsun Qi’s grand plan, yet everything was coming apart due to the efforts of one Warrior, the damnable head of the hateful Ryo Family, Ryo Dae Jung.
Small wonder Great-Uncle Juichi cautioned Hideo never to make enemies of the Ryo siblings, and to concede even at the expense of face if matters grew heated. He always thought it was because of Ryo Da’in’s monstrous talent, because even though Geom-Chi was a formidable swordsman who stood at the forefront of his peers, his skills were lacking compared to his genius older sister who dominated her generation with ease. To Hideo, Geom-Chi was no insurmountable barrier but merely a suitable whetstone to hone his skills against, and while the smug swordsman eventually aged out of the Hwarang without ever losing his title, Hideo had never gone all out against him on account of Grand-Uncle’s warnings. Were his hands not tied by an admonishment to never offend the Ryo family, Hideo once believed he had a fifty percent chance of emerging victorious in an all out battle against Geom-Chi, and having improved by leaps and bounds since, he’d long since left his old rival behind and switched his focus to Da’in instead.
As for Seoyoon, the wisp of a girl was a joke and a disgrace to the Ryo family name, an above average Warrior and sub-par duellist who had no place in the Hwarang if not for her family’s influence.
As if Mitsue Hideo had never been given an advantage solely because of his family name.
Quashing his doubts with an iron will, Hideo quieted his mind and focused on the events at hand. Regardless of his children’s competence, it was clear Ryo Dae Jung’s abilities were above and beyond what a mere Mataram YuChun could handle as he set the Western young master to running after a single luminescent exchange. Only someone on the level of Gongsun Qi or Monk Eyebrows could match him, but neither of those formidable Warriors made a move, with Gongsun Qi overseeing the battle from his command tent and Monk Eyebrows standing in silent vigil at Hideo’s side. Minutes stretched into hours as the Western Colonel General dispatched waves upon waves of Defiled and Chosen to crash against the Citadel’s second wall, their corpses piling up so quickly even the bands of ravenous Transcendents roving across the battlefield couldn’t clear them away quickly enough. A disheartening sight to behold even for one wholly devoted to the cause, but Hideo kept his doubts contained as he stood and watched the battle unfold. How did Gongsun Qi intended to handle the fearsome Sword King and his powerful band of elite guards running rampant atop the battlements? Du Min Gyu was the only Warrior Hideo recognized by sight, but there were at least six other daunting Peak Experts at his side, two guards in Ryo family regalia and four more cloaked in Concealment. Having long since lost count of the allied elites who died at their hands, Hideo watched and despaired as the Sword King and his entourage rallied the Imperial lines and held strong before the tide of Defiled, Chosen, and Transcendents arranged against them.
“No need to fret, brother.” A heavy hand clapped down on Hideo’s shoulder, one so powerful he felt the sting even through his Runic breastplate. There was no ill-intent behind the gesture, for Yuanyin’s strength had advanced by leaps and bounds since entering under Wisdom Vyakhya’s tutelage, even faster and farther than Hideo’s own substantial progress. Grinning from ear to ear, the older youth scratched his bald head and said, “Death is no barrier to the Chosen of Heaven. Through their valiant sacrifice, our brave comrades on the battlefield are paving the path to ultimate victory, and soon enough, their souls will be reincarnated into an existence free of oppression from the Imperial Clan and unshackled from the Heavens above. Have faith, for death is merely a new beginning, but through our combined efforts, we shall soon free all of humanity from suffering without end.”
By unmaking all of existence as we know it. The peace of the grave is no peace at all, but rather silent oppression. Is that not why others mocked Bai Qi as the Lord of Martial Peace?
Again, Hideo quashed that annoying inner voice of doubt and unease and focused on his “brother’s” words. Hardly the most inspiring speech given how so many Chosen and Defiled had already died, but then again, there were still many more to draw upon. The army here at the Citadel was but a fraction of what they could call upon, and while most of their available forces were already out in the field, more armies of Chosen were being mustered along the border cities. Once the Citadel fell, the Chosen of Heaven would finally have a fortified forward base to operate from and their eventual victory would be all but assured. No man was an island, and no matter how strong Ryo Dae Jung proved to be, he alone was not enough to turn the tides of war. These human wave tactics were utterly foreign to Hideo’s mind, but they were undoubtedly effective, for once the Sword King was spent, the Imperial Defenders would stand no chance against the unending hordes of tribal Defiled much less the staunch Chosen of Heaven behind them.
“You are correct,” Hideo replied, giving no outward sign of the seething animosity he harboured for Yuanyin, a fool whose only talent was smashing whatever problem lay in his path. The Wisdom did well to turn this idiot into a formidable Warrior, but aside from raw power, there was little the snivelling torturer had to offer. Eschewing Runic armour for a set of shabby, oversized monks’ robes, the loose garb did much to hide Yuanyin’s chiselled physique, but even if one were to overlook his poor choice of clothing, the former Aspirant was unremarkable at first glance. A plain, mousy looking man, he looked more at home sitting behind a desk than he did out on the battlefield, the type of bookish clerk who only had value due to a lack of options rather than an abundance of intelligence. There was no vigilance in the man’s posture as he puttered around in circles, the Spiritual Sword hanging loosely from his sash more decoration than weapon and even more out of place than the disarming smile upon his face, but Hideo knew firsthand just how formidable this unassuming man could be. Gesturing towards the battlefield and the Transcendents in particular, Hideo continued, “I am simply awestruck by the strength of conviction here on display, as so many of our valiant comrades give their lives for the cause.”
“The faithful will overcome all trials and tribulations,” Yuanyin declared, straightening with pride for all of a second before reverting to his customary slump-shouldered posture. “Through their efforts and ours, we will do away with the prison that is Samsara and set our eternal souls free.” Shrugging, he added, “So what does it matter if millions upon millions die in the process? Their reward will come soon enough.”
“Junior Brother is correct,” Monk Eyebrows intoned, and Hideo felt a surge of jealousy at knowing Yuanyin had been accepted as the Wisdom’s Disciple, but Hideo was still a mere initiate, unworthy to even become Monk Eyebrow’s Disciple. “The lives lost here are but a pittance compared to the countless lifetimes lived throughout the existence of Samsara. Stand strong and look beyond mere mortal failings, for we seek the Truth, and the Truth shall set us free.”
Nodding in quiet compliance, Hideo subtly turned his attentions to Monk Eyebrow’s scarred features, still yet to wholly Heal after his near-brush with death. The attempt to capture Consort Zheng Luo had ended in disastrous defeat in more ways than one, but Monk Eyebrows was able to turn misfortune into blessing by using his pain and suffering to advance along the Martial Path. Outwardly, his scarred facial features were the only thing different about him, including a glaring calloused bald-spot that interrupted his otherwise long, flowing namesake, but Hideo could sense the differences in the formidable monk just by standing next to him. Much like the Transcendents, Monk Eyebrows now emanated an air of threat and menace, one which stood in stark contrast to his previously almost forgettable presence. It was the difference between seeing a street cat and a wild tiger, similar beasts yet unmatched in every way possible, with Monk Eyebrows appearing like a veritable avatar of bloodshed and violence as he stood still in utter tranquility.
It was difficult to truly describe with mere words, but were Hideo to put brush to paper, he would say that Monk Eyebrows had become a force of nature unto himself, the deceptively tranquil Azure Sea as darkening storm clouds gathered overhead.
Hideo had also benefited from his humiliating defeat, for the injuries he took had robbed him of his manhood and in turn removed his greatest weakness, his crippling addiction to lust and carnality. While Monk Eyebrows was recovering from his own injuries, Wisdom Vyakhya took it upon himself to guide Hideo’s progress and recovery, and though the aged ascetic’s methods were exceedingly harsh and severe, Hideo had nothing but gratitude towards this brilliant man. Rather than Heal his injuries outright, the Wisdom left Hideo’s mangled nether regions untouched, resulting in a state of crippling pain and debilitating depression as he struggled with his shameful defeat and the humiliating loss of his manhood. Unable to Heal an injury of this magnitude on his own, Hideo could do naught but rail against the Heavens and stew in his hatred, shame, and suffering. Oh how he yearned to pay that Imperial bitch back for the suffering she inflicted upon him, and he imagined all the ways he would make her scream once he was wholly intact, but as the days passed by, he noticed a distinct lack of satisfaction every time he played out his fantasies using a surrogate slave. Without the ability to derive pleasure from the act, sex quickly grew boring and unappealing, and there were far more interesting and enjoyable ways to inflict pain upon one’s victims.
This simple revelation opened Hideo’s eyes to just how much time and effort he devoted towards sating this first of the Three Desires, and just how meaningless the act truly was. It seemed so strange to devote so much focus towards obtaining a few fleeting moments of pleasure which served no real purpose whatsoever. Until now, Hideo had been blinded by earthly pursuits and a slave to his passions, yet he never realized how foolish his actions made him appear. The sight of a fair maiden’s bared flesh still enticed and titillated Hideo to no end, but it was only now that he cared to study why this might be so. What drove men to become so fixated on breasts? They were no different from any other part of the body, just fat and muscle under skin, so what purpose did grasping or suckling them serve? He was no child to be breastfed, and there was nothing innately pleasurable about holding a woman’s flesh in his hands aside from the satisfaction he drew from feeding his desire for sensual pleasure. Indulging in sex was no different from over-drinking or wallowing in a drug-induced haze, two acts Hideo had always eschewed and looked down upon, for they represented a lack of discipline and self-control. So how was lust any different? Great-Uncle Juichi had always cautioned him not to go overboard and Father had strict measures in place to ensure he never sired a bastard child, but otherwise, Hideo had been left free to indulge his lust as he pleased, so long as it did not interfere with his other responsibilities. How reckless and irresponsible of them, but then again, they did not know any better, for Father and Great-Uncle Juichi harboured the same weaknesses as he.
...Or so he thought, until he considered the matter further. Great Uncle Juichi never brought his wives or concubines around, nor did Father keep any women besides Mother in the household, not solely for the purpose of sex at least. Perhaps he had dalliances with the maids sometimes, but if so, Hideo had never seen or heard it mentioned, nor were their maids particularly alluring or attractive. Though it still seemed strange how no one saw fit to rein in Hideo’s lust then, in truth, he’d been far more restrained than most of his peers, which was the revelation he needed to understand just how detrimental the incessant craving for sensual pleasures could really be. Yes, he indulged his lust less than most of his peers, but he’d also progressed further and faster than any of them as well. How much further along would he be if not for his vices? In fact, it was a miracle he even still drew breath considering his downfall was largely due to his inability to restrain his carnal appetite, which resulted in sweet Eri-Hime’s untimely death. Then there was the matter with Consort Zheng Luo and how he’d lost himself in a haze of desire instead of outright capturing her as he should have, a costly mistake which resulted in his current sorry state of affairs. How many times must he make the same mistake before realizing it wasn’t worth the effort?
Only then did Hideo understand the pressing need to divest himself of the Three Desires, so he sought out the Wisdom for sorely needed assistance, a request to which old Vyakhya had responded with a smile. “Good, good,” he said, patting Hideo’s shoulder with a look of pride and accomplishment. “Now that you understand, you are finally ready to embark upon the Noble Eight-Fold Path and wholeheartedly work towards divesting yourself of the Three Desires.”
Having said that, the Wisdom restored Hideo’s body back to full health, including his mangled manhood. The pain was bittersweet, for even though he now understood how detrimental his desires could be, he still yearned to put his Healed manhood to ‘good’ use and release all his pent up frustrations. Confessing as much to the Wisdom in a fit of impotent rage, Hideo vented all his grievances with his mortal failings and even begged the Wisdom to remove his restored manhood so he could think clearly once again. To this, the Wisdom simply smiled and shook his head, saying, “There is no point in forcing you to divest yourself of sensual pleasures, for even if I were to make you a eunuch, there are other sensual pleasures out there to lose yourself in. What’s more, there will inevitably come a day when you possess the ability to restore yourself to whole once more, so better to build upon a sturdy foundation than take temporary, half-hearted measures which will not last. Worry not, young Hideo, for true clarity will come when you can deny your desires through your own strength of conviction, and only then will you truly be ready to seek Enlightenment and remove all temptation yourself.”
And so Hideo’s trials and tribulations began anew, possessed with the means to sate his desires once more yet wholly convinced that doing so would cause more harm than good. With no other choice, he resisted his urges for as long as he could before succumbing to weakness and hating himself all the more in the aftermath, a contradictory, cyclical conflict which threatened to drive him mad. Even now, as he stood and watched his comrades die in droves for the greater good, thoughts of Zheng Luo’s beauty plagued his mind. He’d come so close to capturing her and taking her away, but she’d slipped through his fingers due to the interference of Goujian’s former Aspirants. Though he loathed her for how she humiliated him, his hatred made him want her all the more as the mere thought of her was enough to ignite his desires, bringing to mind her floral scent and exquisite taste which he appreciated first hand in the District manor courtyard. Oh how he ached to take her, conquer her, make her his and his alone, for the knowledge that she was the forbidden fruit of his poisonous mortal desires only made her seem that much sweeter. She, the temptress who drove him to ruin, had now become the devil of his heart, one he would have to overcome in one way or another, but alas, he lacked the will to renounce her outright and free himself from his vices.
Thankfully, the Wisdom offered Hideo an alternative route before leaving with Goujian and the others on some secretive mission. “This woman,” the Wisdom began, after hearing about the matter in depth, “Has become an obsession, but such mundane manias can be easily overcome. A sacrifice without meaning is a sacrifice without weight, for how can you understand what you have forsaken if you have never experienced it for yourself? This is a trial you cannot run from or avoid, but rather one you must pursue and experience first hand. Find her and indulge in sin, doing as your mind, body, and heart demands, and once you have sated your mortal desires, you will understand how hollow and meaningless these matters truly are. She is only a woman, no different from any other, and once you realize and accept this truth, then will you be freed from the shackles of your obsession and able to devote yourself wholeheartedly to the Noble Eight-Fold Path, after undergoing an appropriate penance, of course.”
A logical and rational proposal that ignored morals and emotions, this was how a true Cultivator should approach matters. An enlightening lesson which proved how far Hideo still had to go before he was ready to truly pursue the Noble Eight-Fold Path, for even though he knew what the Right View meant, to approach matters with the correct mindset and adapt to changing circumstances as new Truths revealed themselves, he had yet to put this into practice. It was easy to say but difficult to do, as he found himself repeatedly falling into old habits despite his resolve to change, adapt, and overcome his mortal failings in order to achieve Divinity.
Alas, the Wisdom’s plan could not be put into motion just yet as Zheng Luo was not here at the Central Citadel, and instead safe and sound in the Northern Citadel almost two-hundred and fifty kilometres away. Hideo would need an army to capture her now, and Gongsun Qi chose to attack the Central Citadel instead, which might well have been the hardest target to hit considering its key location, right between North and South. Then again, it also offered the most advantages for whomsoever might hold it, for once the Central Citadel fell, North and South would be split and unable to coordinate their forces in the field. Leave it to the Lord of Martial Peace to pick the most difficult and rewarding route, not content to do things by half measures. In fact, ambitious as this plan might be, an argument could be made that even though taking the Central Citadel would cost more lives than taking North or South, a victory here might well save lives in the long run, since the Chosen could then focus on taking either one of the remaining provinces while defending against the other, instead of having to take on the forces of two provinces working in tandem.
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For these reasons and more, Hideo’s redemption would have to wait, but there were other unresolved obsessions he could rid himself of while here in the Central Citadel. Patience was key however, and it was well past midnight when the Sword King finally deigned to stand down, his sword-lights fading from the battlefield as he retreated to rest. Du Min Gyu left alongside him, and it was difficult to gauge which of the two formidable Living Legends had more of an impact on the battlefield, for the operas and dramas featuring the Sanguine Tempest had failed to do the man justice. Impressive as the Sword King’s prowess might be, Du Min Gyu undoubtedly killed more Defiled, Chosen, Champions, Chieftains, and Demons during their time on the battlefield. More surprising was the fact that despite his ragged, bloodstained robes and wild, dishevelled hair, the old man’s eyes were still bright and eager as he withdrew from the battlefield with a spring in his step, his strength clearly not yet spent. Instead, it was Ryo Dae Jung who seemed more weary and worn out, his sword sheathed and steps unsteady as he all but staggered down the staircase back towards the third wall, a far-cry from his dynamic, Cloud-Stepped entrance.
Knowing it was his time even before his orders arrived, Hideo gathered his retinue and set out to join the battle for the first time since arriving. “Primary and secondary targets too well protected,” the Sending announced, disappointing Hideo to no end. “Tertiary target located three sections north of tower eight. Injure but do not kill.”
A shame. So many lives had been spent just to create this opportunity, but Hideo would have to settle for his third choice, his old rival Ryo Geom-Chi. First on his list was Du Min Yan, if only so he could use her to thoroughly humiliate Falling Rain, but second was Ryo Da’in, whom he lusted after since he was young and represented the goal he once hoped to surpass. Having seen the latter fighting on the walls earlier this night, Hideo suspected that she was not in fact too well protected, but rather Gongsun Qi believed her younger brother would be an easier target for Hideo to defeat, which only showcased the Western Colonel General’s lack of faith in his skills. Anger burned in Hideo’s belly and he considered demanding to know where Du Min Yan and Ryo Da’in were located, but he swallowed his pride for the greater good. Attacking Geom-Chi would serve the Chosen of Heaven well, and so long as Hideo’s luck held true, then the two women would likely be captured when the Citadel finally fell.
But first, his old rival would have to die.
Leading his retinue into the fray, he found his target soon enough, the Ryo family banner held high overhead as Geom-Chi’s troops held their ground. The Ryo family scion’s resplendent armour was now dented and stained with blood, but Geom-Chi’s movements were as sharp as ever, fast and accurate to a frightening degree. Where Da’in defeated her opponents with overwhelming power, Geom-Chi relied on superior speed and training to emerge victorious. When matched with an equally skilled opponent like Tam Taewoong, Geom-Chi’s lacklustre aptitude shone through as it became clear he was merely an above average talent, a far cry from his dominating genius of an older sister.
And today, Hideo would show the Empire just how lacking Geom-Chi truly was.
Having trained extensively for siege combat, Hideo’s retinue advanced upon their target like a lion hunting its prey, utilizing their full strength and speed from the get go. Rather than scaling the walls with ladders or embedded hand-holds, Hideo’s retinue threw their grappling hooks with unerring accuracy and secured them to the crenellations. Two Chosen then aided the thrower in pulling the chain taut, chains Hideo and his vanguard ran up in a dazzling display of grace and agility. Some grappling hooks were cut free by Spiritual Weapon wielding foes, including the three severed by none other than Geom-Chi himself, but whether it was by luck or fate, Hideo’s chain went untouched and he made it onto the battlements without delay. Roaring a wordless cry of challenge, he smashed his mace into his foremost foe and cleared a section for the Chosen behind him, eager to come to grips with his former rival but cognizant of the fact that no man stood alone. Though he made an effort to hide his true strength, his foes were simply too lacking to challenge him, and soon enough, his retinue had secured a foothold on the wall where their comrades were free to support them.
Granted, this achievement didn’t belong solely to Hideo’s retinue, as their foes were tired and spent after hours of non-stop fighting, but it was so satisfying to bask in the feeling of a job well done. With enough of his comrades beside him to hold their ground, Hideo no longer needed to hide his true identity, though he suspected Geom-Chi had already figured it out. Cackling as he charged his foe, Hideo flourished his maces with a cheek-splitting grin as he landed his opening attack. Had he utilized the Mountain Collapsing Strike, he could have ended this match in the first exchange, but there was more at stake than simply killing an old rival, so Hideo held back once again. It was better this way, to see that smug bastard’s eyes widen in surprise as his raised guard was smashed aside, only for those hateful, handsome features to twist in pain as Hideo’s second mace broke his knee. The Wisdom was right, for Hideo’s obsessions were trite and banal to the extreme, goals so easily reached they hardly seemed worthy of aspiration to begin with. This was the great Ryo Geom-Chi, the dominant Hwarang knight of his generation, a rising dragon by all accounts, defeated in two strikes without any suspense. Had Hideo gone all out, he could have killed this worm without Geom-Chi even knowing who dealt the killing blow, but at the moment, the eldest Ryo son was worth more alive than dead.
Chortling as he shook his head, Hideo made sure the Ryo Family guards were all dealt with before backhanding Geom-Chi across the face, driving him back to his knees before he could stand and fight. Slamming a boot down atop the swordsman’s hand, Hideo pinned the weapon in place and grabbed Geom-Chi by the back of the head, and the sight was glorious to behold. Blood dribbled down his nose and chin as he struggled for breath, but his eyes still burned with grim determination, a look Hideo loathed with all his heart. Raising the haft of his mace with a smile, he smashed it down on Geom-Chi’s broken nose and shivered at the sound of his screams, savouring this moment and committing every detail to memory so Hideo could later properly repent over his transgressions. “You are nothing,” he hissed, shaking Geom-Chi’s head until his eyes focused upon his gaze. “The wealthy scion of a noble house who has earned nothing of what you’ve been given. If not for your family name and elder sister’s talents, you would be the laughing stock of all of Central for failing to live up to your father’s expectations. Imagine a world in which Ryo Geom Chi was the eldest Ryo scion, without the talented Da’in to shield him from his critics and rivals. How might you fare then, Geom-Chi?”
“Better than you, traitor.” Spitting a mouthful of blood into Hideo’s eye, Geom-Chi snarled in foolish defiance. “No matter the burden upon my shoulders, I would never be so weak as to succumb to the Father’s foul lies. You betrayed everything you know and once stood for because your ego couldn’t stomach a single defeat. You are an arrogant, overblown coward who can only bully the weak, kowtowing to anyone you think might be stronger because you know better than anyone else how lacking you truly are, but even then I never thought you would stoop so low.” Heaving from the exertion of speaking so much at once, Geom-Chi’s scornful gaze pierced Hideo to the core, ruining what should have been a gratifying victory. “To think, I once respected you and believed we could be friends, for even though you were no great talent, at least you knew to work hard and persevere.”
Roaring in a fit of rage Hideo slammed his fist into Geom-Chi’s face and knocked the bastard’s teeth loose. This was far from enough to sate his anger, so Hideo struck him again, and again, and again, until Monk Eyebrows admonished him through Sending. “Careful not to kill him, else all our efforts will be for naught.” A hint of concern slipped into the stoic monk’s tone, a wariness Hideo hadn’t sensed even when monk Eyebrows fought Shuai Jiao in single combat. The seed of fear had been planted in his mind by the iron sphere that almost took his life, one delivered by the seemingly unremarkable MuYang using some strange Spiritual Weapon of Falling Rain’s devising. While Zheng Luo was most certainly not here in the Central Citadel, no one, not even the Uniter himself, was able to pinpoint the former Aspirant spymaster, a man so skilled at blending in even the Heavens were unable to uncover his hiding place.
He could be Concealed in any shadow upon any tower overlooking the battlefield, ready to deliver another payload of iron death faster than even a Divinity could react. Monk Eyebrows only survived due to his thick, reinforced skull, and even then it’d been touch and go for a matter of weeks as he lay upon death’s door, unable to force the spherical projectile out without causing further damage to his brain and skull.
Unaware that his fear had been noticed, Monk Eyebrows lurked in Concealment and Sent, “It appears our foes have already sensed something amiss and intend to sacrifice the boy. Slowly roast him alive while we secure the battlements against the oncoming reinforcements. If even this isn’t enough to draw out the Sword King, then we will reassess our plans.”
All this just to force Ryo Dae Jung to fight on their terms, this was how much Gongsun Qi respected his foes. Against one Colonel General, the Prince of Barbarity had nothing to fear, and with Monk Eyebrow’s support, they could even match both Shuai Jiao and Dae Jung, but there were too many variables to account for to take undue risks now, especially with victory so close at hand, so Hideo heeded the monk’s orders and took great delight in securing Geom-Chi’s bloodied body over a burning brazier. Leaving four Chosen to ensure the flames did not burn too hot, he strode off to the delightful sounds of Geom-Chi’s tortured screams and moved to deal with the reinforcements. The Heavens were surely smiling down on him tonight, for the oncoming reinforcements were also flying a Ryo family banner, but to his great disappointment, it was not Da’in who led them, but rather the lacklustre youngest daughter, Seoyoon.
A jade beauty whose icy gaze stole the heart of many a man, Hideo did not count himself as one of her admirers, but seeing her hate-filled eyes glaring at him with the heat of a thousand suns, he decided she was well worth the penance. “So Geom-Chi has fallen so far that even the younger sister must wipe his ass for him. What a bond you Ryo siblings share, it will be interesting to see how long it takes to tear that bond apart.”
Rather than respond to his taunts, Seoyoon ignored him entirely and turned to the man beside her instead, a peacocked fop of a man dressed in flowing white robes that would’ve been deemed fashionable in Du Min Gyu’s heyday. Even now, whilst standing on the battlefield, he had his spear slung across his shoulders with arms hanging loosely from the haft, like a base-born peasant carrying buckets of water back to his dusty farm. As if that weren’t enough, he even had a bookish, half-beast manservant to carry his sword, both of them entirely out of place amidst the armoured Ryo Family guards. “I am not his match,” Seoyoon said, gesturing at Hideo while speaking to the fop. “Kill him and I will accept whatever terms of marriage you put forth.”
Though his eyes shone with delight, the fop pursed his lips and shook his head. “He is a formidable opponent and I am not so certain I can kill him, not with that monk hiding in Concealment over there.” How the hell the fop was able to pinpoint Monk Eyebrows’ location was a mystery, but it was enough for Hideo to take heed of this popinjay and treat him like a legitimate threat. “How about we lower the threshold to hurting him a bit, hmm? Let’s say a few broken bones, maybe a severed limb at most?”
“Kill him.” Unwilling to entertain his foolish notions anymore, Seoyoon left to join the fray that had broken out around them, as the Ryo Family guards fought to retake the battlements from Hideo’s elite retinue. Their battle would not end anytime soon, as both forces were fairly evenly matched, with Hideo’s forces boasting superior skill but the Ryo family guards able to bring more numbers to bear thanks to the layout of the second wall. Turning his attention back to the young fop, Hideo finally placed the perfumed peacock’s name, but that did little to lessen his scorn for the man. “So you must be Tong Da Fung,” he sneered, unimpressed by what he knew of the man’s reputation. “Falling Rain’s mongrel dog who begs for scraps at his feet. How suiting for you to be matched with the Ryo family disgrace, a trashy, unremarkable pair whose only redeeming feature is their proximity to greatness.”
“Oof.” Pressing one hand against his chest, the popinjay had the gall to close his eyes and reel back as if physically struck, and Hideo couldn’t tell if Fung was truly offended or just mocking him with his exaggerated actions. “I won’t lie, that actually hurt.” Letting the spear fall from his shoulders with an almost careless shrug, Fung brandished his weapon a bit before slamming the butt into the ground, his arm stretched towards his manservant who took the polearm away. Shaking his head with a sigh Fung continued, “When I first met Rain, we swore to call ourselves the Typhoon Brothers and we pledged to take the Empire by storm, the Great Wind and the Falling Rain. Truth be told, it’s been difficult not to resent him just a little for stealing all my thunder, to the point where even idiots like you don’t take me seriously anymore.”
While the popinjay waxed on about his friendship with Falling Rain, the manservant offered Fung the hilt of his sword, and as soon as he had the weapon in hand, Hideo realized this fight would not be easily won. Everything about the peacock changed, a subtle, profound change that only a discerning eye would notice, but Hideo saw in Fung’s relaxed posture a confidence that stemmed from supreme skill, as opposed to overblown ego. “I won the Society Contest.” The sword aimed high, but struck low, and Hideo barely managed to block it, falling for a feint so profound it felt like there were two Fung’s standing before him, one real and one illusory. “Soundly I might add, with almost no difficulty whatsoever.” Following up with a series of exquisite and inexplicable attacks, Fung drove Hideo back even though his sword touched nothing but empty air, his movements so ethereal they were difficult to track, yet threatening enough that Hideo did not dare meet him head on. “I lost to Dastan Zhandos during the battle for Sanshu, and have I made no real achievements since, but that’s only because I learned something about myself after losing to Dastan.” The sword lanced out and almost pierced Hideo through the throat, but he dodged it by the barest of margins as a drop of cold sweat dripped down his spine. No one dared approach to interfere with their duel, so Tong Da Fung stood alone on the battlements, his white robes flapping in the breeze as he held his sword beneath the moonlight with an introspective expression. “I dislike war and fighting in general.”
What a ridiculous thing for a swordsman of his calibre to say, and yet, Hideo was unable to retort as he blocked a devastating overhead chop, one heavy enough to make his arms ache. Though it was far from the most powerful attack he’d experienced, Fung’s movements were so difficult to read and track, it felt like Hideo’s life was constantly in threat, and the pressure was beginning to wear him down. On the other hand, Fung appeared as relaxed as ever while delivering a barrage of deadly thrusts that slipped past Hideo’s attempts to parry and landed solidly on Runic plate. “Sparring is fun enough, I suppose,” Fung continued, sounding almost bored and begrudging as he said it. “An exhilarating contest of strength, but hardly something I care to devote my life to. War just seems like such a waste, all those lives lost for no gain at all. What changed in the wake of Yo Ling’s attack? What benefits have the Defiled gained from taking the West? I’d wager my considerable wealth to say nothing of importance, a wager I daresay few would care to accept.”
Redirecting his sword from high to low, Fung’s thrust plunged into flesh after slipping through a joint in Hideo’s vambraces, a weakness few could purposely pinpoint and attack, but the popinjay made it look as easy as breathing. “War just costs so much in coin and blood, efforts are better spent almost anywhere else. Build a school and you can instantly see the results of your investment, whereas burning a village leaves you with nothing but ashes and death. Hardly worth it, I say, but whenever I bring it up, everyone thinks I’m the strange one.” Shaking his head while simultaneously almost separating Hideo’s from his neck, Fung grimaced as if he were the one in dire straits. “But not Rain. Again, he has to outshine me even here, with his book of inventions and his grand dreams of ensuring that every last person in the Empire has food, clothes, and a roof overhead, not to mention an education and the means to defend themselves to boot. How is anyone else supposed to compare?”
A probing slash somehow found yet another chink in Hideo’s armour, dealing him a deep cut across the meat of his shoulder, but the pain was nothing compared to his humiliation. Taking the offensive for the first time, he unleashed not one, not two, but five Mountain Collapsing strikes, knowing that if even one connected, his foe would die, but Tong Da Fung’s defence was even more formidable than his offence, able to dodge, duck, and generally skirt around all of Hideo’s attacks with comical ease. “A lesser man might see their wounded pride fester into hatred and contempt,” Fung continued, his tone light and breathing measured as if they were discussing this over tea instead of during a life and death battle, infuriating Hideo to the extreme. “But Falling Rain is like a brother to me, so I have no one to blame but the Heavens for being unfair. No matter. He alone is enough to become the storm that sweeps through the Empire, and I shall be the calm breeze that follows in his wake, for there will come a day when he has defeated all his opponents, and together, we will bring the Empire to never before seen heights.”
“Shut up!” Hideo howled, still unable to deal with his hateful opponent’s unending stream of attacks. Only now did he realize that Fung’s narration had something to do with his superlative skill, utilizing the rhythm of his words to throw off Hideo’s perception of the man’s movements. “Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!”
“The truth is never pleasant to listen to,” Fung continued, Sending his words while simultaneously infusing his voice with Chi so everyone could hear him. “But I will not be silenced. Your skills are impressive, Traitor Hideo, but not to the extent of something I’ve never seen before.” The sword slapped his maces aside and slammed home against his helmet, setting his ears to ringing and head to aching as Fung continued to speak. “Mila is stronger. Yan faster. Dastan more cunning, and Zian just better all around. I was the weakest of our little sparring group, but I kept up all the same, as did Falling Rain whose phenomenal talent was only ever outmatched by his dedicated persistence to hard work. Compared to them, you are nothing and no one, a laughable joke of a man who cannot even tell when someone is trying to distract him.”
The declaration took long seconds to sink in before Hideo noticed something wrong, for Geom-Chi had long since stopped screaming. Unable to even blink for fear of falling to Fung’s unending and ineffable stream of attacks, he Scryed upon himself to get a better look at his current situation. What he saw made his blood run cold with fear, for who else but Ryo Da’in had arrived and already had her burned brother in hand, while her forces ran roughshod over Hideo’s retinue. Despite having his pick of the elites to choose from, Ryo Da’in’s retinue was made up of the best of the best from the Ryo family guards, and were in turn supported by Du Min Gyu’s students led by his adopted half-breed grandson. Though many had laughed when they heard he’d adopted a slave into his family, no one would laugh if they saw the half-cat right now, scything through Chosen elites like the Sanguine Tempest reborn. Though Yan shared the old man’s Blessing of Wind, it was clear the half-cat Kyung had inherited Du Min Gyu’s sabre skills, one which he used to rise to fame in the first place, and it was easy to see why. A force of strength and violence given flesh, every swing of Kyung’s sabre claimed a life, if not more, thanks to his frenzied speed and explosive fury that few could ever hope to match.
“Retreat.” The Sending arrived before Hideo could even think to do so himself, but he hurried to obey without question, for Monk Eyebrows was no longer lurking in Concealment but locked in combat with none other than Shuai Jiao himself. Three powerful Transcendents were there to support Monk Eyebrows, but the Imperials had dispatched their own Peak Experts to aid their Commander General, famous Warriors of Central who Hideo once looked up to like Ishin Shigen, Eccentric Gam, Yari Hagane, and more. None of them were allies of the Ryo family, and in fact might well be some of their greatest rivals, yet they were all still willing to risk their lives to save the youths of the Empire and hold the line while the Sword King recuperated.
“This could have been you,” the hateful voice said, expressing Hideo’s hidden, innermost desires. “Should have been you, standing on the Empire’s side with the full support of Central behind you. But instead, you threw a tantrum because you lost a fight, and now look at you. No family, no friends, no Mentor, and no loved ones. You have thrown away all that you possessed, more than most could ever know, and what do you have to show for it?”
Nothing.
Yet.
Squashing the voice once again, Hideo withdrew his troops from the wall as other Chosen moved in to take his place. Their plan to lure an exhausted Ryo Dae Jung had failed, but with Shuai Jiao committed to the battle, this meant the two strongest Warriors of Central had already revealed themselves, while Gongsun Qi had yet to directly act. Victory was inevitable, and while hardly the most admirable of tactics, wearing the opponent down with superior numbers was undoubtedly effective, so with allied forces holding the North and South at bay, it was only a matter of time before the Citadel fell.
At which point, Hideo would have his vengeance against all who dared look down on him. Though he was a sinner dyed in the red dust of the mortal world, this was but the first step along his long and lengthy path, one he intended to see to its final conclusion.
Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo.
Chapter Meme