In war, generals lead and soldiers fight, but ultimately, it's the civilians caught in the crossfire who pay the most costly price.

LuZhuo, Meng Sha, Dong Jiang, and Huang Hai. Four critical harbours taken by my forces in a single night, a feat which previously was estimated to take two weeks of bitter fighting at a minimum. Sounds impressive on paper, but in reality, the victory rings hollow and has left my fury unspent thanks to Zhen Shi’s murderous, cowardly tactics. The ruins of Huang Hai are all that greet my conquering force of Peak Experts and Runic Cannons, their aristocratic bearing brought low by the long night’s work and the charnel house we’ve stumbled into. Unlike in LuZhuo, where the bodies of the dead had all been meticulously posed to present a panorama of anger, hatred, and general butchery, the scene inside Huang Hai paints a picture of cold and impersonal cruelty. The captive prisoners of the West were simply slaughtered where they slept, pierced through by spear and sword or trampled underfoot as the Defiled made their retreat, running with their tails between their legs and killing everyone they couldn’t bring along. Husbands and wives, brothers and sisters, grandparents and children alike, the innocents of the Empire lie dead here because our enemy is a spiteful bastard who would rather burn the fields, salt the earth, and poison the wells than leave anyone or anything of value behind.

But while there is little I can do to stop Zhen Shi from doing this again, I can at least avenge the poor people who died here tonight.

“Imperial soldiers, secure the harbour,” I utter, my tone somehow emotionless and detached despite my unhinged rage. “Aspirants and Death Corps, with me.”

The Enemy stood and fought in Meng Sha and Dong Jiang, or at least they tried to before the symphony of cannons rang out, but as impressive as those weapons of war might be, they are a demanding and draining weapon to use. The Ascendants switched out for Sentinel cannoneers while securing Dong Jiang, and now it's the Aspirants turn to use them, led by familiar faces lacking names or the ability to share them due to the stringent Oaths they subjected themselves to before removing their own tongues and setting out to kill me. Though they’ve long since come around and stopped trying to take my life, their Oaths still prevent them from communicating in any practical way, limited to simple gestures like nods and salutes to prevent them from giving away any sort of information should they ever be captured and interrogated. They never intended on surviving the first attempt on my life, but now that they have, they’ve found themselves socially isolated despite being a part of a community, and so they’ve turned all their social fixation towards me. A heavy burden to bear, but I’ll take any loyal Warrior I can get, especially considering their remarkable mental fortitude born from enduring such a bleak and joyless existence in a world as miserable as this.

Which makes them perfect for the job at hand. Not glorious battle, but wholesale slaughter, a righteous cleansing of the Enemy to ensure these particular Defiled can commit no more crimes in the future.

Ignoring the Sendings from my family and advisors telling me I should wait, I Cloud-Step up into the air for the umpteenth time tonight and spot my quarry off in the distance, a herd of frightened Defiled fleeing due west to seek safety and shelter amidst the sandy desert dunes. The Heavens are on my side however, because even though Zhen Shi must have given the order to retreat while I was still in Dong Jiang, the clear, starry night sky illuminates the Enemy forces well enough for even standard Imperial eyes, to say nothing of my enhanced night-vision of dubious origin. “Make these bastards pay for their crimes,” I command, not bothering to lower my voice or even hide my intent, and though the Enemy is too far to hear even my Chi-enhanced voice, they pick up the pace as if able to sense their death soon approaching, no doubt warned by Zhen Shi or the Spectres lurking within their very souls.

Souls which I will set free from their turmoil, cut loose from this mortal coil by sword and cannon.

Travelling as the crow flies, we close the distance between predator and prey in a matter of minutes. Once we’re in range, the cannoneers take turns bombarding the fleeing rats two at a time so as not to overtax themselves or their weapons. Talented though OuYang YuHuan might be, it still takes her the better part of two weeks to finish a Runic Cannon, assuming she makes no mistakes at any point in the process and has to start all over. Considering the dragon shaped barrels each bear hundreds of detailed, life-like scales etched across every inch of their frames, bearing some scribblings so fine you almost need a magnifying glass to make out, her current success rate is understandably low, so we cannot afford to overuse the cannons we have and ruin them through heat and warping. That being said, the damage wrought by two firing cannons is nothing to sneeze at and the thousands of common Defiled are helpless to react, abandoned by their own Chieftains and Champions who might have otherwise put up a fight. Hoping to speed things along, I draw deep on my own experiences of helplessness and suffering to unleash an Aura of despair upon these murderous savages, for it is only right that they experience the same emotions their victims experienced earlier when they drew their blades upon those poor innocents.

The screams of panic and terror echo through the night, interspersed with roaring cannon fire and the death cries of the dying, but there is no mercy in my heart. Perhaps the Mother or some other benevolent being will take pity on their eternal souls, though the darker part of me hopes not, for the Defiled deserve far worse than this justice we mete out here. To say their deaths bring me no satisfaction would be a lie, but I will pay for this soon enough, as the gruesome scenes of this one-sided slaughter embed themselves deep into my memory to torment me another night.

The first Demon spawns before the tenth volley is unleashed, the wrongness in the world multiplied as its host opens its soul up to the Void and the Spectres hiding within, only to be ripped and savaged apart by thousands of voracious spiritual predators seeking a return to the world of the living. The Spectres are a virus on the souls of humanity, a malignant infection that has plagued us for far too long, but until someone comes up with a method to treat the root of the problem, I have only my weapons to rely on. Peace sings as it cuts through the air and the half-formed Demon’s head explodes into a mist of Ichor, blood, bone, and brain thanks to the Mountain Collapsing strike unleashed through my weapon from afar. Overkill perhaps, given how weak these newly formed Demons have proven to be, but I am unwilling to allow the Spectres even the slightest taste of freedom and life if I have the means to deny it. Zhen Shi isn’t the only petty one, and even if he does twist circumstances to damage my Spiritual Weapons again like he did in Meng Sha, repairing them is only a matter of Chi and focus, of which I have more than enough to spare.

I’ll have a headache for days to come, but that’s a small price to pay for retribution.

As the minutes pass and Defiled die in droves, three more Demons form and I strike each down as it emerges, but just as with the first, their corpses are lacking in Heavenly Energy for me to Devour. I’ve been wracking my brain all night trying to figure out how this is possible, and while I have some suspicions, I have no substantial leads just yet. The problem is that while I now possess the full catalogue of Zhen Shi’s notes and have gone through them time and time again, the first half had most of the useful information, while the second half is more of autobiography detailing his descent into gibbering madness. In it, he goes into more detail about what he does and dedicates pages to describing the scenes of his carnage, with lines like how ‘blood billows up scarlet red only to lose lustre and brilliance’, to ‘the melodic silent screams of a man unable to draw breath’, and other such snippets of madness. It’s easy to see why the second half was kept secret from the public, because not only is it a disturbing look into the mind of a Defiled lunatic, if you read between the lines, it reveals one extremely disturbing fact, something which should have been apparent from the start.

Zhen Shi’s research notes were not written for his own perusal.

Why would they be? The man was a Peak Expert with a Natal Palace and could easily have committed everything to memory. Not just the events that took place, but also the emotions and sensations he experienced in the moment as well as every detail both large and small in a way mere words could never convey. Why would he need to write about the colour of blood or the sound of screams if he could just relive them in memory, immerse himself in the past and experience it all again? Once the clinical, analytical tone of the writing devolved into more stream of thought ramblings, I noticed Zhen Shi would often refer to questions that he never asked or make excuses for his lack of progress. Like in experiment #7485, which Gen Shi mentioned in reference to my ‘New Path’ way back in Sinuji, before I shattered my Core. The experiment itself had a scattering of useful details referencing the melding of the physical and metaphysical, but what caught my eye was the closing statement itself. “Though the Dao is far from ineffable, there are too many gaps in our understanding to properly draw conclusions from this experiment, like a child who just learned their numbers looking through an accountant’s ledger. Familiar, yet incomprehensible, and lacking a proper teacher, this one can only stumble ever forwards until the pieces all come together.”

Which aside from being relevant to my current predicament, sounds like a prideful genius making excuses for his own failures. Combined with the humble self-reference, that leads me to believe the notes were a written report for his superiors. Not all that surprising really, as I should have put two and two together long before, since I already knew that he was once an Imperial Scion and that Zhen Shi is not his real name, but rather part of a title conferred upon him for excellence in a field. Unless he picked the name Shen Zhen Shi himself, which loosely translates to Divine True Corpse, I find it difficult to believe the Emperor of eight-hundred years ago was unaware of Zhen Shi’s heinous experiments before awarding him so high an honour, meaning at some point, his heinous experiments were not only sanctioned by members of the Imperial Clan, but he was also rewarded for carrying out so very many atrocities.

A sickening discovery if there ever was one, with all too many different implications which makes me all the more determined to one day stand apart from the Empire, if not overthrow it completely, but the more pressing question is this: did Zhen Shi lose his marbles and slip his leash, or is he still a mad dog of the Empire?

A matter to look into another day however, as I must see my way through this trial first. How is Zhen Shi denying me usable Heavenly Energy? Well, assuming the Spectres are where I’m getting said usable Heavenly Energy from, then it stands to reason that Zhen Shi has found some way to not only direct the Spectres to remain in the void, where I cannot Devour them freely, but also discovered a method to induce Demonic transformation without allowing the Spectres to cross over into our world, not entirely at least. From what I can gather from Zhen Shi’s notes and my own musings, the physical world and the void are akin to overlapping dimensions, essentially two worlds existing in the same ‘metaphysical’ space, or at least close enough that they can affect one another most notably though Heavenly Energy. Maybe the Void is the barrier to Nirvana, a higher plane of existence devoid of all suffering, or it could be a world of nihility which Monk Vyakhya seeks to replicate, or maybe it’s some sort of afterlife where the souls of the dead go to be reborn or suffer for their karmic sins. Regardless of what it might be, I believe that Zhen Shi has confined the Spectres to the Void in order to prevent me from Devouring them, and the effects have spilled out over into these Demonic births.

Granted, my understanding on the subject of alternate dimensions stems from pop culture and comic books, so there’s a good chance I’m basing all this on the completely wrong premise, but it makes just enough sense for me to move on, not to mention how I don’t know enough about anything to refute this conclusion. It makes sense from what I’ve seen thus far, as I know Spectres turn their hosts’ bodies into something akin to a Spiritual Heart, a process which involves linking the physical and metaphysical, the real and the immaterial, maybe even the body and soul together to create something that exists in ways that go beyond what we mere mortals can perceive. Why limit it to mortals you ask? Because the next step is to the Shatter the Void and ascend to Divinity, even if it is a false Divinity that falls short of actual Godhood, but I can only imagine that Zhen Shi’s workings here touch upon those higher secrets.

Short of stumbling across a Heaven sent Insight and making a miraculous breakthrough in the next few minutes, my time is better spent focusing on what I do know rather than what I don’t. While the details are hazy, I’m certain that whatever is happening with the Spectre restriction results in newborn Demons so weak I’m fairly certain a large group of commoners with crossbows could kill it. A weak Demon is hardly a downside considering the force I have here with me today, as even the most powerful Demon would die when faced with a few hundred Peak Experts, though this does deny me the chance to plunder Heavenly Energy from its corpse. This is most certainly due to skipping over the aforementioned linking between the physical and metaphysical, which is essentially the process of forging a Spiritual Heart. The only difference here is rather than the host merging his body and soul as one, the Spectres annex the lion’s share of the host’s soul before forcibly merging with his body. Whatever usable Heavenly Energy contained in the Spectres’ otherworldly forms manifests in this world as Ichor, while the host undergoes all manner of torment under the Spectres' directive to keep him or her from breaking free of their influence and seizing control of their body once more.

Which might explain why all Demons are universally horrific in appearance. Visualization is a large part of controlling Chi and Heavenly Energy, so the manifested Demons might well be creatures of literal nightmare, ones drawn from the subconscious of the host as he’s tormented by thousands of fractured and intermingled Wills, ones which they themselves take on ugly forms so that ignorant souls will fear them.

What I want to know is how Zhen Shi is controlling the Spectres. Are they truly the minions of some maleficent Divine Being known as the Father and following the commands of His Chosen representative in this world? I don’t think so, and not just because I’m inherently skeptical of all things religious. Instead, I suspect my formidable foe’s influence over the Spectres has something to do with the Keystone robes I saw his Natal Soul wearing (or possibly his real Soul, still not too sure on that), with threads festooned with millions upon millions of tormented Spectres. That’s likely how he controls them, through pain and suffering, though how he can inflict pain on something akin to a soul is a mystery to be sure, one I would love to solve before he does something unexpected like rip my soul from my body or something.

No, if he could do that, he wouldn’t have gone to so much effort to trick me out of my Natal Palace in the first place. Actually, now that I think about it, there were a bunch of Spectres just hanging out in the Void by my Natal Palace when I was trying to recover in the monastery. I always thought Zhen Shi put them there to watch and threaten me, but why would he do that while also keeping them away from me in the real world? He’d been playing keep away for months by then, so it wouldn’t make sense for him to park a veritable army of Spectres outside my Natal Palace just for me to Devour. I remember there were two groups back then, a disciplined force of guardian Spectres holding back the feral untamed masses, meaning Zhen Shi doesn’t have control of all Spectres everywhere, but rather only commands a portion of them and uses his forces to corral the rest. This means he’s not so much directing the Spectres as he is herding them away from me, and loosening the reins when he wants them to act naturally, like when he tried to destroy my Spiritual Weapon by allowing a Demon to go through with the whole transformation process with my sword embedded in the host.

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Knowing he’s strong-arming the Spectres is somehow less terrifying than if he had complete and total control over them, though I suppose there’s something to be said about a man so threatening he scares the collective embodiment of humanity’s negativity. Then again, maybe he wants me to think that he doesn’t have total control and is really just testing the waters to see what I can do. Even after reading all his notes and facing him several times, I am unable to tell if everything he’s done tonight is an act of desperation from a cornered foe, or the machinations of an accomplished deceiver working to uncover the truth regarding my abilities. Impossible to say one way or the other with any certainty at all, but regardless of the truth, I cannot let my guard down, not even for a moment.

Truth is, bombarding this fleeing force is a risk I shouldn’t take, but the same could be said of attacking Meng Sha, Dong Jiang, and Huang Hai with a force comprised solely of Peak Experts. A calculated risk, but a risk nonetheless, even with Dad lurking nearby in Concealment alongside Naaran, Kuang Biao, and a number of other guards, though Binesi stayed behind to oversee the safety of the civilians in Huang Hai. Besides my protectors who have been holding back all night, most of the Peak Experts from my initial attack on Meng Sha have retired for the night, with other Warriors here to take their place. West led the charge with Central following suit, and here in our third engagement of the night, the Northern Warriors have taken centre stage, including a full complement of Peak Expert Sentinels. This is a big part of why I feel confident enough to run down these rats fleeing before me, because if I ever need to retreat, there’s a formidable force of crack-shot archers on hand to turn my pursuers into pincushions at the drop of a hat.

Another reason for my confidence emits a burst of uneasy Aura from his perch atop my head, which is Pong Pong’s way of warning me of danger nearby. The problem is, even after scanning the surroundings with eyes, Domain, and Aura for good measure, I’m unable to pinpoint the source of his concern, something he’s been warning me of ever since LuZhuo, which by now was several hours ago. I’m fairly confident there are no Concealed threats nearby, not with Grandpa Du, Exarch Gam, Tenjin, and a number of other Awakened Martial Warriors keeping watch, to say nothing of my own vigilance and paranoia, which leads me to believe Pong Pong is just scared by all the cannon fire. Poor little guy is not built for conflict or warfare, but he’s putting on a brave face to accompany me into the fray and keep me safe, because that’s what family does.

“It’s okay little guy,” I Send, accompanying my words with a burst of loving Aura to try and ease his nerves. He can’t understand what I’m saying, but at the very least, he hears my tone and knows I’m not ignoring him. “We’ll be done soon, and then we can head back to the sea for a swim.”

A small burst of cheery Aura is his response to my Sending, a moment of elation at hearing the word ‘swim’. The little guy was pretty happy back in SuiHua, swimming in the bay to his heart’s content with Rakky, the bears, and quins. The world would be a much better place if we could all be so easily satisfied, but the hearts and minds of humankind have far too much depth and darkness for that. Perhaps that’s why animals never turn Defiled, not even ones as murderous as Rakky, because they understand Balance in a way humans never could. Anger and hatred have their place upon the scale of emotions, but humans all too easily allow those darker emotions to consume us, while animals know how to let go and live life in the moment.

Though I remain unconvinced by Pong Pong’s warnings, I gauge the distance from Huang Hai and our allied forces before reluctantly putting an end to the slaughter. Much as I would love to kill every last Defiled before me, pursuing them any further would be pushing the limits of luck and good sense. I’ve gambled enough for tonight and even Peak Experts need to rest, as everyone with me tonight has travelled a far distance to get here. With four harbours under Imperial control, we’ve retaken close to twenty percent of the Western coastline, but it will take time and effort to secure our holdings from Enemy counterattacks. Despite our rousing success and lack of casualties, the mood in Huang Hai is weary and sombre as lofty Peak Experts labour like common mortals to assist the Brotherhood monks with the funeral rites. There is something particularly upsetting about pouring oil over the dead without the bed of firewood to rest upon, an act far too similar to basting for my sensibilities, but there’s no helping it. Wood is in short supply here in the West, and we’re even running low on lantern oil despite having brought several ships full of it with us. A fire hazard for sure, but even if Demon Gen or some other Fire-Blessed Defiled lights it up, the oil ships are kept separate from the rest of the fleet and never allowed to dock in order to minimize the potential for damage.

“We must speak,” Dad Sends, the moment we step foot inside my command tent, a bad sign if there ever was one. Not only is he speaking in his native tongue, he also didn’t call me boy or son, which means he’s upset.

“I’m sorry for ignoring your warnings to take it slow,” I Send, making my excuses despite knowing it would be better to just listen first, but I’m tired, frustrated, and just all around too cranky to be lectured tonight. “I knew the risks when I gave the order and weighed them against the benefits. We needed to make the Enemy bleed for this else our morale would suffer, and the Enemy commander never expected me to push things so far. Tonight is the only time we can afford to be so aggressive, so I took the chance where I saw it.”

“Still your tongue and listen, son.” Placing his hands gently on my shoulders, Dad looms over me until I find the courage to look up into his eyes, so bright and blue and full of compassion. “You need not justify your decisions to me, for your ability to command this army was never in question. Though I might disagree with your decisions, I rest easy knowing you weigh all your options well before deciding on a path to take. All I ask is that you answer me this one question, and that you do so with the utmost honesty.” Waiting until I acknowledge and agree to his request, Dad asks, “Do you feel better now that you have vented your fury?”

Mentally he means, not physically, and though my gut reaction is to say yes and be done with it, something in his gaze makes me think twice. Not only is my fearless Dad concerned, I would even go so far as to say he’s scared, because he’s not sure how to help me anymore. To him, Balance is a simple matter of following his heart, and the rest just falls into place naturally, almost as naturally as it comes to Pong Pong or Rakshasa, so he has trouble understanding my struggles with the same concept. Even though my Martial Path no longer requires Balance to channel Chi, this doesn’t mean I can do away with it altogether. A Balanced state of mind is a healthy one, though I wouldn’t go so far as to say it is the best state of mind, as I would say this sort of mindset is partially responsible for the plague of Spectres infesting the Empire as Martial Warriors divest themselves of their negative emotions in a misguided attempt to find Balance.

That’s a problem for another day though, as I don’t really know how to answer Dad’s question. With honesty, I suppose, so I take a deep breath and exhale before finding the courage to admit the truth. “No. Not even a little. I know I should be celebrating our accomplishments and happy we’ve come so far, but every time I blink, I see the slaughter in LuZhuo burned into the darkness behind my eyelids.” The scene flashes through my mind faster than I can blink, the memories haunting me in my waking moments after I denied them the chance to do so in sleep, for you can’t have nightmares if you never go to bed. Gesturing outside the command tent towards the ramshackle fort, I continue, “And this. The death here in Huang Hai is almost worse, because as grotesque and horrific as the scene in LuZhuo might have been, the slaughter here actually makes sense to me, a bid to deny these people their freedom and their lives. Death for the sake of death, cold and impersonal, a decision made and a consequence suffered because of a path I set out on. I know their deaths are not my fault, nor should I accept responsibility for it, but to see the lengths our Enemy will go to just to spite me makes my heart ache with grief.” Unable to stand tall any longer, I lean forward and rest my head against Dad’s chest, his steel armour like a soft pillow to my exhausted mind and body. “I promised everyone there would be no purge, but what difference does it make if the Enemy slaughters all our people before we can save them? I thought I planned for every eventuality, had a response ready for whatever our opponent might try, but how can we win a war if the Enemy refuses to fight?”

“I have no answer for you, my son,” Dad replies, all too quickly for my tastes, but his warm embrace is all the support I need. “Except to point out that while many have died tonight, you’ve saved a good number of people as well, the people of Meng Sha and Dong Jiang. Your wives should be in Meng Sha by now, so perhaps it would be best to head back after the funeral rites here. There should be no need to leave a force to defend Huang Hai, as I doubt the Enemy is keen to hold it.”

Good point, and we’d be stretching ourselves thin trying to hold and fortify four harbours at once. “Yea, sounds good. We should gather everyone in Meng Sha anyways, and focus fortifying the area as it’s the most easily defensible location and a good place to base our offensive from.” LuZhuo would be better, but better to give it some time to clear the air of Zhen Shi’s foul workings, while Dong Jiang is just a subpar location for a military base. Even though the decision is all but made, I continue rambling without letting go, because even though I’m a grown ass man who can wipe his own ass, it’s nice to have a Dad to rely on from time to time.

Not to wipe my ass. I can still do that, and in no way want anyone to do it for me. Damn it brain, don’t make this weird.

Quietly wiping away tears of frustration and fatigue, I finally break away from Dad’s hug with a quiet smile, and see him smiling back. He’s proud of me, not just because of my Martial strength and military accomplishments, but because I was honest with him and shared my frustrations instead of bottling them up inside. It’s something I’ve always known I’ve needed to work on, but it’s just become second nature to keep my struggles to myself, because as much as I love to complain about the stupidest things, I’ve always been reluctant to unload my heavy baggage onto the people I love. They don’t need to hear it and are better off without being weighed down by my many issues, so even though I know they would be happy to help, I can never bring myself to voluntarily ask for it. “Thanks Dad,” I say, pushing the words past the lump in my throat and willing myself not to cry anymore. “For always being there for me.”

“Not always, my son,” he replies, shaking his head with a sad smile, and it takes a moment to register that he means he hasn’t always been there for me, not that he won’t always be there in the future. “But I am here for you now, and will be so long as I still draw breath.”

A brief pulse of warning from Pong Pong almost goes unheeded until Dad straightens up in alarm. Moving faster than I can follow, he turns around with sword in hand while standing between me and the still unseen threat, and then time slows to a crawl. The alarm sounds and the tent flap moves aside as the Death Corps Guards rush in to protect me, but despite standing only a few footsteps away, I can see they are far too late. The tip of a glimmering black bolt emerges from before my eyes, and I am transfixed by the crimson droplets dripping from its tip, stuck in a moment of time as I refuse to accept what is happening in the here and now.

For the bolt was not aimed at me, nor is the blood mine, as Dad utters a weak gasp of pain as his heart is pierced clean through.

No, no, no, no...

The world blurs and shifts around me and I find myself catching Dad as he topples over in place, his clear blue eyes fading fast as he stares up into mine. A shaky smile stretches across his lips, a helpless acceptance of fate, and he squeezes my hand with a feeble grasp that is so unexpected from one of the strongest men I know. He has no last words for me, no final farewell, only a shuddering wheeze and a gaze full of love as his body goes into extreme shock and his mind shuts down to spare him the suffering. The sounds of fighting outside tell me that the chances of assistance are slim, but even though I fear we have come under concentrated attack, I cannot bring myself to look away from my helpless, dying Dad.

My father is dying because of me.

There is no hope without him.

His death is only the first of many.

My mother. My wives. My siblings. My grandparents. My friends.

They will all pay the ultimate price, because I dared to overstep my bounds.

The deluge of blame and hatred rolls off me like water off a duck as I find clarity of purpose in this moment of crisis, knowing I have no time to indulge in anger or grief if I am to have any hope of saving him. Odd as it sounds, the destruction of the human heart does not result in instant death, not like decapitation would, but unless a Healer arrives in the next few seconds to stem the loss of blood and prevent widespread organ failure, then all hope is lost. My Death Corps Guards will be here in time, but while some of them are capable of Healing, none of them have the skill to save Dad. Maybe Taduk could do it, but I don’t think he’s here given how he shares Lin-Lin’’s love of sleep and has probably long since gone to bed. Monk Happy might be able to do it, and I Send word asking him to get here, but he responds with a frantic message telling me he’s under attack. Precious seconds were lost seeking outside assistance, and while famed Healers like Taiyi Zhushen and Taokang Geyan might be able to save Dad life, reconstructing a human heart in a short enough time to matter is beyond the skill of most, including the Healers here with me now.

My father is going to die, and there’s nothing I can do to save him.

“Shut the fuck up you decrepit old bastard!”

A wall of fury rises up within my mind, blocking out Zhen Shi’s insidious whispers meant to twist the blade in my heart, because I have more pressing matters to deal with than his shit. Dad is dying, and there’s no one available to save him, but where there is life, there is hope. Reaching for every scrap of love and affection I bear for the man who saved me, I funnel it all into my Chi, Aura, and Domain in a desperate attempt to Heal his injuries the same way I Healed Song, but Dad’s mind has shut down in preparation for death, and his body and Soul automatically reject my efforts to Heal him. It’s a defensive mechanism similar to the immune system, rejecting all foreign matter and Chi, but right now, it’s preventing me from saving him and I have no idea how to circumvent it with Dad being in no state to accept my love and help.

No, not just love, but fear, desperation, panic, and anger, all of it emanating off me in pulsating waves of dynamic emotions. That’s why Dad’s body is rejecting my help, because my unstable state of mind is tainting my efforts to Heal him. I need to divest myself of emotion, but even taking the time for a single deep breath is a luxury I cannot afford as my mind grasps at straws in hopes of helping Dad. A Keystone, that’s what I need, a neutral, impartial, Healing Keystone that works quickly and autonomously without my thoughts and emotions influencing the process. A huge ask, but I have some Energy of the Heavens stored up from the Demon Zhen Shi’s used to damage my Spiritual Weapons earlier tonight, so I just need to figure out the proper way to use it.

What can I Visualize to represent so monumental a Keystone? The med-kit again? No, that’s too... singular, too personal, an icon that represents Healing myself, because that’s what it was in memory. I need something that Heals anyone and everyone I deem an ally so long as they enter into range, and it needs to do it quickly. An image pops into mind and somehow it just feels right, so I Visualize my Intent and set my Will to work creating this Keystone within my Natal Palace. The foundation forms atop the concrete docks, where I spent many a night playing with Lin-Lin and the floofs, a central fixture for us to see and admire the next time we’re there. Three stone basins of differing sizes emerge, overlapping one another with the smallest at the top and the widest on the bottom, while a square sigil forms at its feet, one bearing the bow-tied bunny that so many others believe is a Cloud Chaser Hare. A deviation from my original intent when creating the emblem, but one that has changed in perception over time, for what better representation of Healing than one based on my Medical Saint of a Teacher and Father in Law? Water bubbles up from the topmost basin and soon overflows into the basins below, water which represents all the usable Heavenly Energy available to me. It’s precious little, and I pray that it is enough as I activate the Keystone and open myself to the Energy of the Heavens to Devour as much Chi as I possibly can, because if the usable Heavenly Energy is not enough, then I will need all the Chi I can get.

The fountain of Healing, from some stupid game or another, where heroes recalled back to so they could top up on Health and Mana, and there is no hero more deserving than Dad.

Divorced from the Healing process, I can only watch and wait as my Chi and Heavenly Energy pour into Dad’s comatose frame, unable to see or affect the Healing process. Hell, I don’t even know if it’s working, or if Dad is still alive, as I’m too afraid to touch him for fear of messing everything up. That’s the problem, my fear, holding me back as it always has, but since I cannot get away from it, I must find ways to work around it. The blood continues to pool out from underneath him as his pale complexion takes on the shade of death, but still I cling to hope and persevere because I cannot bring myself to do anything else. The seconds pass as my Core empties time and time again as even my Devouring capability is unable to bear the strain of fuelling my newest, most powerful Keystone yet, nor is my metaphysical Chi system capable of sustaining it for long. My Divine Senses scream in intuitive alarm as pain wracks my mind and spirit, telling me this Healing is costing me more than I know, but I don’t care. This is my Dad, my Mentor, my pillar, and my hero, so I will pay any price to save him.

The world fades to black, but I hold fast to hope and pray that this was enough, because even if I were to wash the world in Defiled blood, it would still not be enough to avenge Dad’s death.

Chapter Meme

Bonus Song