Eager as she was to join in the battle for Meng Sha, Song held back for Papa’s sake.
Not because she thought he needed her protection. Though still weak and recovering from his wounds, Papa was a mighty Peak Expert strong enough to defeat her with a single flick of a meaty finger, if he were ever so inclined. Something Song always knew, or at least assumed given how diligent he was about controlling his strength at all times. This was a man who needed to concentrate when drinking from dainty porcelain teacups lest he accidentally crush it between two fingers, to say nothing of the careful and cautious manner with which he carried himself when around other people. Most saw his leisurely and lethargic manner and thought him slow or lazy, but Song knew there was much more to it.
Song still remembered how Rain once came charging out of a building only to run headlong into Papa’s belly. Papa barely even grunted upon impact, but Rain gave himself a concussion and could barely stand straight for the next few minutes. While this was years ago and long before either of them Refined their physiques, Rain had already earned his title as the Undying Savage by demonstrating a level of fortitude and endurance far beyond his peers, yet even he was injured by simply running into Papa who was standing in front of the door, so what would have happened if he’d been moving? Nothing good, that much Song could tell, which was why Papa moved with such deliberate care and an intentional lack of haste, so as to minimize the chance of accidentally hurting the people around him.
It was the same reason the bears and cattle moved ever so carefully whenever the rabbits were underfoot, or sometimes even not at all, because they knew how delicate their tiny long-eared friends truly were. Meaning in Papa’s eyes, even exemplary Martial Warriors like Mama and Mila were as fragile as bicorn bunnies, which alluded to a level of strength far beyond what a mere blacksmith could achieve from hammering steel. His efforts did not go unnoticed either, for it was one reason why Song loved her papa so, because she saw the great lengths he took in order to make her feel safe and sound at all times. When he wanted to pat her head, he’d raise his ponderous hand and move ever so slowly until she leaned into his touch, and when he wanted a hug, he would simply open his arms and wait for her to come to him. When turning around, he moved his head first to see if the way was clear, and he’d always corral her with his arms without actually touching her so that she wouldn’t accidentally meander into his path, and even then moved with deceptive light and graceful steps for fear of accidentally squishing someone underfoot. Most importantly of all, Papa afforded this same level of consideration to everyone around him, which made it all the more natural unlike how Rain went to great lengths to word things without giving her any orders.
It wasn’t that Song didn’t appreciate Rain’s efforts, but there were times when he grew so flustered and apologetic over a simple mistake that it made her feel awkward and burdensome, but not so with Papa. With Papa, he was simply this kind and considerate to everyone, Song included, someone who went to great lengths to ensure the safety of the people around him. With his endless patience and laid-back demeanour, he slowly but surely chipped away at Song’s aloof armour until he became her Papa in more than just name and title, but in truth, and she loved him all the more for it. He was living proof that not all men were depraved beasts lusting after her flesh, a fact he proved with his actions without ever even intending to, because that was simply who he was.
Only now... he’d returned from Tian Zangli a changed man. The differences were subtle to most who knew him, a cutting edge to his mood and tense impatience in his actions that few would care to note, but in Song’s eyes, it was a difference as stark as night and day. He was still a loving and caring father as ever, all full of smiles and appreciation for the care and consideration his daughters gave him, but Song had caught him lost in his thoughts more than once, and the sight reminded her of a smoking volcano getting ready to erupt. There was a dark fury buried deep within him, one he’d never shown her ever before, but it’d risen to the surface now and refused to be entombed once more.
Mila saw it too, though neither of them ever spoke of it, only exchanging wordless looks whenever Papa’s mood took a dark turn, because neither one of them knew what to do. Others might attribute his foul temperament to pain and fatigue from his injuries, or possibly shame and dejection over losing to the amber-eyed Half-Demon, but Song believed neither of these to be the case. No, Papa was not a Warrior overly burdened with pride, else he would not have been content supporting Mama from the shadows for so many years of their marriage. Nor was he one to dwell on his mistakes and succumb to self-recrimination like Rain, for though he was a meticulous and methodical man, Papa had long since accepted that there were things beyond his control. A mistake was merely an opportunity to learn, which was why he was always upfront about the strengths and weaknesses of his products when offering them to new prospective owners, so it was unlikely his defeat had upset him so.
No, Papa wasn’t in a dark mood because of the battle, not directly, but because he’d been sent back to Meng Sha where there was no one to fight.
Battle and bloodshed could be an intoxicating experience, and Papa was captivated by it once more. It was evident in the way he held himself, not with the gentle care and consideration of old, but fixed and motionless as a statue when he thought no one else was around, as if the only way to keep himself from exploding into furious action was to immobilize himself in chains of steely discipline. Even this wasn’t enough to keep his mood in check, for though he had yet to act out, Song saw his control slip away from him more than once in these past few weeks. It was nothing too extreme just yet, only a disgruntled huff here or an angry glance there, but all for the most mundane of reasons. A loud-mouth soldier, a worker who didn’t move out of his way, a rabbit that ran underfoot when he wasn’t expecting it, these minor inconveniences were all it took to cause Papa’s temper to flare, so while he was always quick to rein it back in, the fact that it took so little to set him off was worrying indeed.
The crux of the issue wasn’t that Papa was truly upset by these things, but rather that he was looking for an excuse to be angry and therefore unleash his rage. Blood-drunk was the polite term Song had heard bandied about, one used to politely describe those Martial Warriors who were a bit too in love with battle and bloodshed. Rain, Gerel, Baatar, Ulfsaar, and Ravil were but a handful of names that came to mind, and there were many more who also suffered from this same affliction, and they all managed it in different ways. It was so common that most saw it as no reason for concern, but it was clear Papa was struggling to keep his temper in check. He ate the meals they brought him and played with the pets whenever they sought him out, but when left to his own devices, he simply retreated inwards to dwell upon his dark thoughts and yearn for a reason to unleash his fury upon some deserving victim.
And now the perfect excuse had come marching right into Meng Sha, and Song feared she might soon lose her gentle giant of a Papa forevermore.
That’s why Song and Mila had yet to join the fight, because then Papa would have all the excuse he needed to ignore Healer Tokta’s instructions to rest and recuperate. A lesser Warrior would have died outright from a spear thrust through the torso, a blow which ruptured his lungs and nicked his heart, yet he survived seemingly due to sheer power of will alone. Had the Half-Demon been more adept at Reverberation or Papa less capable at defending against it, then the resulting aftershocks could have reduced his other bodily organs to a pulp, to say nothing of the storm of follow-up attacks he weathered through to protect Mila before the Half-Demon retreated. Though Papa survived the encounter thanks to his Refined physique and Healer Tokta’s quick actions, his injuries were far too grievous to Heal away in a day or two, most of which were internal in nature. According to Healer Tokta and Medical Saint Taduk, there were complications which involved Papa’s advanced age, his robust mass, and Refined physique that made them wary of Healing him completely, since doing so could overtax his body’s reserves and leave him even weaker than he was now. Although he he appeared healthy and fit as could be, Papa had less than a century of life left in him, or one sixth of his lifespan, putting him more or less on equal footing with Colonel General Nian Zu at one hundred years of age. Both were well within the twilight years of their life, meaning that once their health started to deteriorate, it would be all but irreversible as their bodies approached it’s Heaven-set limits, so it was better to let Papa slowly recover naturally without pushing him too far.
None of which was enough to dissuade Papa from wanting to join the fight, though he was fairly circumspect about expressing his desire more than Song expected. He offered no argument when Mila declared she would be staying close to Rain and merely nodded when Song said she would do the same to help look after the pets. They were both free to do so since they had no other responsibilities. Mila had no retinue to command, having left her Sentinels with Mama and Niece Alsantset in Shi Bei, and in similar vein, Song had opted not to travel with Junior Martial Brother Fung and return to Meng Sha instead, once she learned of Papa’s injuries. Granted, her decision to do so was not driven solely by the desire to help Papa, since his life was in no danger and she had yet to recognize the signs of his affliction, but rather so she could help her beloved sister through these turbulent times. It was clear Mila blamed herself for Papa’s injuries and as a result was almost beside herself with grief and recrimination, which left her in poor position to help Papa or herself.
Thankfully the animals were all extra affectionate upon their return since Lin-Lin only had two hands to pet them at any given moment. Especially Guai-Guai, who even now was still snuggled in Mila’s embrace, half-asleep and grouchier than ever due to the interruption of his afternoon nap, while the rest of the animals huddled in close and followed obediently alongside. The animals’ endearing antics alongside Yan’s pleasant and attentive company as well as Rain’s nearby presence were enough to keep Mila’s spirits high, but Papa’s issues were not so easily amended. The issue was he’d buried his anger so deep for so many years that he’d forgotten how to deal with it now that it was close to the surface. Rather than acknowledge it as a real problem and take proper steps to find Balance once more, he simply tried to bury his anger once more in hopes that it would go away again, but Song and Mila both could see his struggle to control his emotions, even if others couldn’t. Though he appeared calm and composed as ever as they all headed down to the docks, his gaze was distant and withdrawn as he ignored everything happening before his eyes in favour of Scrying on the battle from afar. Not a mistake an experienced Warrior should make, taking their attention away from their immediate surroundings outside of a secure location, but Papa paid no mind to Mila, Song, or even the comatose Rain who was currently strapped to a stretcher and carried over Guard Leader’s shoulder like a plank of wood. Instead, he watched the battle unfolding on the walls of Meng Sha and commented on what he saw, though Song wasn’t sure if he knew he was speaking out loud.
“Mataram YuGan,” Papa muttered, squeezing Song’s hand so hard she felt her bones creak. Luckily, he remembered himself in time and let go before any damage was done, but only so he could hold his staff in both hands instead of just one. “He killed the Sword King in single combat, so once he takes the field, I doubt OuYang Min Jun has anyone to match him. If Society doesn’t have anyone else worth a damn stationed here, then they’ll come cryin’ for help any second now.”
A request Papa intended to respond to himself, it seemed, but he had yet to wholly recover from his injuries and Song had no wish to see him die at the hands of the Mataram Patriarch. Grabbing him by the belt instead, she pulled him along with all her might and failed to even shift his weight, but after a brief moment of resistance, he seemed content to continue following her lead for now.
“The Defiled are comin’ fast and hard.” Papa’s next statement arrived a few minutes later, and Song and Mila both turned to listen. Yan had long since left to take command of her retinue and might well have already joined in on the fighting, but Papa was so unaware of his surroundings he probably hadn’t even noticed she’d left. “Attacking on all fronts like Demons possessed... Win or lose, there’ll be a hefty butcher’s bill for both sides when all’s said and done.”
“Ha! That’s my girl!” Papa exclaimed a few minutes later, and for a moment, Song thought her happy-go-lucky Papa was back, but his delight was tinged with more than a hint of near-maniacal bloodlust as he turned to Mila and said, “Ah, I wish ye could’ve seen it lass. What a shot! Old Bulat just put a bullet clean through a Mataram brat’s head before he could even set foot on the battlements. Oh I bet that stung somethin’ fierce, to come all this way and die before drawin’ blood with his spear, but the boy likely died before he had time to regret. Ye ought to make a few more of them rifles when ye’ve the time, because they’re a damn sight more effective than any of us ever expected.”
Before Mila could answer however, Papa’s mirth turned dark. “Damn it. Things are getting out of hand quick. Mataram YuChun ain’t none too happy about losing his son and heir, so I can understand why he’d throw himself into the fight so early, but what about the Whirling Dervish and Crimson Shadow? The timing ain’t right fer them to get their hands dirty, not yet at least. I figured they’d sit idle fer another hour or two before stepping in to steal the limelight, so why the big rush to wrap things up?” Tapping the butt of his staff against the ground as he absently resisted Song’s lead, Papa turned about as if ready to head off into battle, but Medical Saint Taduk appeared to guide him back in the right direction. “Bah,” Papa grunted, without ever acknowledging his own actions. “Hope Binesi and his cronies are enough to hold back the tide, else Meng Sha will be overrun within the hour.”
A most disheartening statement to make given Papa’s high standing, but luckily they were all moving under a cloak of Concealment and a Sound Barrier to boot. A precautionary measure meant to hide them from friend and foe alike, for as terrible as it would be to hear a Divine Blacksmith and Peak Expert’s prediction of overwhelming defeat, that was nothing compared to seeing the comatose Legate being carted about like firewood. What’s more, they were bringing Rain to the docks so that he would be ready to board the fastest ship should the worst come to pass, which was only prudent given the circumstances, but hardly the most inspiring of sights to be seen. Turning her eyes skyward towards the laughing birds circling about overhead, Song idly noted that a discerning observer might notice their presence and figure out what was happening regardless, though she had no idea how Roc and his flock could track Rain through a Divinity’s Concealment.
Regardless of her concerns, Song had no say in what would happen next. Guard Leader was tasked with keeping Lin-Lin safe, and Lin-Lin refused to leave her beloved hubby’s side, so logically, this was the best course of action. Despite credible suspicions regarding his involvement in the battle for Pan Si Xing, Rain was still comatose and unresponsive as ever, meaning there was little chance commander OuYang Min Jun would come looking for Rain for help. Perhaps Papa was right and they’d contact him for assistance instead, but there were still talents of note to help hold the Heavens up, with many a hero revealing themselves over the course of the next few minutes as they dove into the thick of things to do their part.
Situ Jia Yang was among the first to make his presence known, his sabre emitting its piercing wail as he engaged the Whirling Dervish Mataram Minzhe. Minutes later, a resounding cheer rose as Situ Chi Gan waved the Ebony Reaper’s ragged banner about with the titular Mataram Clansman’s head mounted on top. There were other celebrations and lamentations to be heard, almost too many for Song to keep up with, but the tides of battle ebbed to and fro as the Enemy pushed ever forwards in an almost desperate bid to overrun the harbour defences. This was a far cry from the usual Defiled tactic of utilizing overwhelming numbers to slowly grind away at the Imperial forces until they were too tired to fight, and like Papa, Song could not understand why they were in such a rush to take Meng Sha. No one had seen this coming, and with the bulk of the Imperial forces stationed in and around Shi Bei, it would be at least a full week before reinforcements arrived, but the Enemy seemed intent on coming hard and fast without any reprieve whatsoever.
A strange decision given the forces arrayed against them, but from what she could piece together from her own observations and Papa’s occasional muttering, the fighting on the walls was as fierce as it could be, and the Imperial forces were already struggling to hold out. Unlike traditional Defiled, the Mataram Clansmen were able to bring quantity and quality to bear, for they were willing to throw away dozens of talents young and old just to secure a quick victory here today. The why no longer mattered, especially once Binesi’s match against Mataram YuChun came to a crashing halt as the Ten-Thousand Spears pierced through the Immovable’s defences, and Mataram YuChun raised his voice for all to hear. “So this be the limit of Immovable Binesi, the supposed strongest spear of the North.”
“Binesi be a fine a Warrior as any,” Papa declared, speaking over the exchange and punctuating his statement with a sigh and shake of his head, “But he’s too used to fighting as part of a unit. Can’t focus solely on defence in a duel, because all it takes is a single mistake to render all yer hard work fer naught. A damn shame it is, but - ”
Whatever Papa was about to say got caught in his throat, and Song yearned to know what was going on, but all he did was watch with mouth agape. “Fools, the lot of them,” he whispered, taking a step forward as Song futilely tried to hold him back, but thankfully he still had the presence of mind to notice her efforts and even smile sheepishly as he stepped back. Before Song could even ask, Mataram YuChun’s voice rang out once more, his tone tinged with amused arrogance. “Your courage be commendable, but courage alone is not enough.”
As Song listened with bated breath, her spirits lifted as she realized Daxian had stepped in to take up the fight, only to drop back down as the half-rat admitted he was not YuChun’s match. Then Naaran appeared and verbally put the traitor in his place with his grand declaration, and Song could not help but smile at the dour man’s clever wordplay and arrogant demeanour. With OuYang Yuhuan stepping in to fight Mataram YuChun and stabilize morale, Song hoped there would be another moment of reprieve before matters escalated even further, but then Papa tensed up and took three steps forward before reining himself in once more. “The Mataram Patriarch,” he growled, trembling from head to toe in restless anticipation as the Enemy commander took up arms against Rain’s silent, amber-eyed protector. “Naaran ain’t his match.”
A distressing statement if there ever was one, and Song knew he said it for her sake, as well as for Mila’s, because Papa wanted to justify his actions to them both, but thankfully Guard Leader responded with a resounding snort. “And you are? Perhaps this might have been true a month ago, but you are useless in your current state.” A statement which set Song back on her heels, because even though Papa’s injuries weren’t wholly Healed, he should at least be able to utilize three-quarters of his strength, so how could that be considered useless? Then again, Guard Leader was a Divinity, and her definition of useless might differ from others, but oddly enough, Papa simply grit his teeth and voiced no argument, which was strange to say the least, but before she could even ask why this might be, Guard Leader continued, “Stay put and don’t make more work for others. You’re enough of a burden as it is.”
Papa’s frown spoke volumes to his dissatisfaction, but rather than protest or negotiate, he simply turned his attention back to the battle instead. After a few seconds of consideration, his shoulders slumped as he heaved a heavy sigh before falling to one knee. “Mila, Song, come give your foolish Papa a hug.” They both obliged, and Song happily sank into his warm embrace even though he almost squeezed the air out of her lungs. “Alright then,” he declared, suddenly letting go all too quickly with a smile. For a brief moment, Song saw the dark clouds part behind his eyes as he gazed upon his daughters with a fond smile, but then they returned in full force. “I’ve kept ye both away from the battle fer long enough,” he began, stroking their heads and making a mess of their hair. “Naaran can handle himself fer a bit, but there are others who could use yer help. I know yer both here only because yer worried about what yer fool of a father will do in yer absence, so I promise I’ll be good and stay right here by the lad’s side. In return, you two promise to make it back to me alive, deal? I still need ye both to help me through this, so don’t ye go disappearin’ just yet.”
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Though delivered in an almost lighthearted manner, Song knew he was only putting up a strong front. This was the first time she’d heard him admit he even had a problem, which was progress to say the least. Mila said nothing and merely buried her head in Papa’s chest, and Song could only nod in reply, but even this minor gesture was enough to bring a look of relief to his face. “Enough of yer mopin’ now,” he said, though his actions didn’t match his words as he stroked Mila’s hair and leaned in to touch foreheads with Song. “Should be me worryin’ about the two of ye, not the other way around. I’ll be fine, so get ye gone. The Empire needs its heroes now more than ever, and you two are among the best and brightest.”
Since she didn’t know what else to say, Song merely nodded and whispered, “Love you Papa.”
“Love you too, lass.” Flashing her a warm smile, Papa gestured towards the wall where Rain’s retinue was serving and said, “Ever since that Mataram brat died, a whole host of young talents have been flocking over to prove themselves in battle. Jorani and his lads could use a hand.”
“Understood.” Giving his hand a squeeze goodbye, Song stopped to offer Mila a hug and bid farewell to the animals, but sweet Princess seemed to sense something amiss. The weasel-bear usually wasn’t so clingy, but today she refused to be separated from Song’s side, even going as far as to leave the comfort and safety of her handbag and waddle along on her own four paws rather than be left behind. Try as she might, Song couldn’t get the weasel-bear to stay put, not even with a bribe of three honey cakes placed inside the handbag as a distraction.
Bring her. She can help.
A statement delivered not so much in words, but in sentiment instead, and Song turned to the only person that this could have come from. With his stretcher laid out on the floor and his head, body, and limbs all strapped in tight, Rain looked utterly helpless and dead to the world in every way possible, yet somehow, he’d taken it upon himself to impart some advice through his Aura. Or was it his Aura? The message had come and gone so quickly she wasn’t sure if she’d imagined it, but it felt so real and familiar that it had to have been him. Glancing over at Mila, Song saw her sister was still talking to Papa, trying to make certain he would keep his promise and stay out of the fight. Not because she doubted his word, but because she could not bear to lose him, while Song’s expectations were more pragmatic. She couldn’t stop him even if she tried, so all she could do was trust him, and thus far, Papa had never given her any reason to doubt his word, and she wholeheartedly believed he never would.
Not wanting to interrupt their farewells, Song tried to contact Rain through Sending and Aura but received nothing in return. While she did that, Princess stood on her hind legs and stretched her front paws out in silent appeal, demanding Song bring her along to the battlefield. With nothing else for it, she stifled a sigh and slung Princess’s handbag over her shoulder before letting the weasel-bear crawl in, but it was difficult to be too upset with her once she set upon the honey cakes tucked inside. Bidding the other animals a quick farewell, Song rode Erdene up to the wall only to send the quin back once they arrived, for the sweet beast was not suited for battle. Making her way over to where the second gate bordered the angled wall beside it, she Lightened herself and ran up the handholds built with this very purpose in mind, allowing quick and easy access for Demon Slayers and Peak Experts alike if the walls were under threat of being overrun. Cloud-Stepping into battle was risky even in the best of circumstances, but this allowed a Warrior to appear on the wall safely behind the last line of defence.
And as Song hopped over the last hurdle to appear atop the battlements, she saw exactly why Papa directed her here.
Chaos and carnage. Those were the only words to describe the scene unfolding before Song’s eyes. The proud veterans of Rain’s retinue were scattered and strewn about, unable to form up in a unified defence due to the presence of a single foe. Wherever they gathered, a bloodied young monk would appear, his glimmering sword scything through their lines without mercy while Ral, Chey, and Dastan chased him about in a futile effort to contain him. It wasn’t that the hulking Warrior monk was exceptionally stronger than his three opponents, but rather that every time they corralled him into a corner, he flashed a lopsided grin full of missing and broken teeth before uttering a brief chant that set everyone back on their heels. It wasn’t Aura, but something analogous to it instead, similar to how Luo-Luo’s music could inspire emotion in her listeners. A bone-shaking “Ohm”, an ear-piercing “Namah”, a skin-scratching “Dhih”, these were the only syllables Song could pick out from the monk’s agonizing chants, ones that affected her even from her place in the back. Each word set her nerves aflame in a sea of agony and locked her in place, but only for the blink of an eye before the effect faded away, yet in the heat of battle, that was enough time to die thrice over.
A quick glance around revealed matters were more dire than she imagined, as she spotted several familiar faces sporting wounds that would’ve taken lesser Warriors out of the fight. Sahb’s shield arm hung limply from his shoulder as he cradled it close, his eyes shut in focused concentration as he strove to mend his broken bones with all haste. Balta and Saida stood guard over him, the former wiping away tears while the latter glared daggers at the hulking monk, and Song soon saw why. Laid out side by side along the back of wall were the broken bodies of none other than Camsul, Rithy, and Khin, three comrades who’d been with them since Sanshu, yet now lay resting within the warm embrace of the Mother Above. Song’s heart sat heavy with grief as she noted how they died without ever experiencing blessed freedom from their Oaths once more, for they were too loyal and dedicated to their master Falling Rain to even entertain the notion of breaking them. It didn’t matter that they had his blessing to do so, because they saw their Oaths as no burden, but rather as a badge of honour for all to see. They were proud to serve their hero and saviour without reservation, for he was a man worth serving.
And now their service was over.
There were other dead and wounded scattered about, but Song could not afford to grieve, not now while this threat was upon them. The hulking young monk was not the only threat, for the Mataram Clansmen continued their relentless assault in spite of all the black-armoured bodies strewn across the battlements. Here and there, the Warriors of Rain’s retinue formed up to create little pockets of defence, but every time the young monk uttered one of his disruptive chants, it threw everyone into disarray. Chey, and Ral were only able to hold out due to their extended range and Runic armour, while Dastan kept his shield up to cover most of his vitals even whilst lost in the throes of agony. Stand out Warriors like Bulat, Lang Yi, and Wang Bao struggled valiantly to mount an effective defence, but even a blind fool could see their efforts would ultimately prove futile. With a seemingly endless stream of Mataram Chosen streaming over the wall and an assortment of Defiled Monks keeping the Azure Ascendants in check, it was only a matter of time before Rain’s retinue was overrun, and as far as Song could tell, commander OuYang Min Jun had yet to make any moves to support them.
Which was far from enough to keep her from joining the fight.
Leaping into the fray without hesitation, Song landed lightly and danced across the stones while executing Gliding Wing. A single slash of her sabre was all she delivered, so similar to her quick-draw technique, but one that never came to an end. Instead, she leaned into the momentum and whirled about with her sabre outstretched, only for her enemies to come crashing into its Honed edge. Similar to how a bird’s outstretched wing cut through the rushing wind, her blade carved a swathe through the Defiled lines with an almost laughable lack of effort, as if her foes were suicidal and throwing themselves upon her blade so that she might give them a quick and painless death. From start to finish, she only executed a single attack, but this lone slash cleared her path and carried her across the battlements to her initial intended target.
This was the lesson she learned in Pan Si Xing, the strength she gained not just from mastery of the Forms, but submission to them as well. A fine line to walk, to control her actions while simultaneously leaving enough leeway for the Movements to express their strength, but she walked it effortlessly and without hesitation. There were many uncertainties in this world, with trials and tribulations abound, but for as long as she could remember, there was only one constant to hold onto, and that was her training. Even if the sky should fall and the Heavens come crashing down upon her, she wholeheartedly believed that one day, her Martial Path would provide her with the strength to hold the Heavens up.
For she was Li Song, Sentinel of the People and Hero of the Empire.
Sublime though her initial attack might be, it was merely a means to an end, a Movement meant to clear the path and lead her to her true foe. As her sabre collided with the hulking monk’s sword in a metallic screech of steel, Song was struck by a bolt of pain that originated from her head and made its way down to her toes in less time than it took to blink an eye. Falling back to steady her breathing, she reminded herself that she still had a long way to go, for even the simple act of making contact with her foe left her arms and legs numb and shaking. There was more than sheer power of muscle and Reinforcement behind this reaction, for the monk employed an insidious form of Reverberation to help offset the power of Song’s attack, one she could only partially defend against out of sheer instinct alone. No wonder Ral and Chey were so careful to stay out of his range, even while chasing him all over the battlements, because one wrong move could easily render them defenceless before his blade. “Oh?” The monk exclaimed, his eyebrow raised and gaze brimming with lust and avarice. “So the savage runt sends his half-cat whore to fight his battles now?”
Paying no heed to his hateful words meant to incite anger and rage, Song studied her foe even as she drew back for the next exchange. What she initially took to be a lopsided face turned out was actually flesh that had yet to wholly mend, the entire left side of his face webbed with mostly healed scars that stretched out from what appeared to be multiple bullet wounds. One in the cheek and another in the jaw, which explained all the broken teeth, as well as one just a finger-width from his ear and another just above his eye. Four noticeable bullet wounds, with traces of a fifth that sat dead centre in his brow, but that wound was further along in Healing compared to the others. No doubt because it was the most grievous of his injuries and received most of his attention, but the others were nothing to scoff at either, for she’d seen those bullets render whole stumps of wood into nothing but kindling and splinters. How this monk survived five shots to the face was a mystery to be sure, but at the moment, it was only relevant in that it made Song’s job here that much more difficult.
“Fall back,” she said, speaking over the monk and interrupting him mid-rant. Some rabid nonsense filled with obscenities which she didn’t care to hear, so she instead spoke to Dastan, Ral, and Chey instead. “Stabilize the line. I’ll hold him back.”
“Such hubris,” the monk spat, and Song half expected him to continue with ‘such sin’, but instead, his features twisted in rage as he exclaimed, “How dare you look down on Yuanyin, the Bloody Confessor’s successor?” Drawing in a deep breath, his eyes filled with sadistic glee as he uttered “Tare Tuttare Ture Sohm!”
This time, she was able to make out the entire short chant rather than only the first syllable, but it wasn’t because she was standing closer than before. No, she could make out the words because there were a series of snarling grunts laid overtop them, emanating from sweet Princess whose furry head was poking out from her bag. With fangs bared and drool aplenty, the weasel-bear regarded Yuanyin like someone who’d stolen all her honey cakes and with a mind to exact sweet vengeance, her rumbling warning growl so loud and oppressive it shook Song down to her bones. Though she suspected as much before charging in, she was gratified to see her hunch was right and Princess could negate the monk’s esoteric chants. Her suspicions weren’t without basis of course, and not just because Rain might have told her to bring Princess along, but considering the weasel-bear reacted the same way to Aura and Luo-Luo’s musical demonstrations, it wasn’t too much of a stretch.
“Hmph,” Yuanyin snorted, his slack, scarred expression filled with disdain. “So you’ve brought a slavering beast capable of countering my Sutras. This fetid furball is a far cry from matching the likes of Rakshasa however, so let us see how long it can hold out.” Drawing another deep breath, he launched into another droning chant while simultaneously taking up the offensive, delivering a flurry of blows that set Song back on her heels as she struggled to fend off his attacks. It was that damnable Reverberation that made him so difficult to deal with, as every clash of their weapons set her bones to shaking so violently she feared they might fracture beneath the crushing symphony of steel. Then there was Princess’s rumbling growl numbing the entire left side of Song’s hip and thigh, an unintended side-effect of her efforts to negate the monk’s droning chants. However, the weasel-bear’s snarling growls and barking grunts did not only defend Song from the monk’s droning chants, but everyone else as well, so she could hardly afford to set Princess aside before defeating her foe.
Back and forth they traded blows, and though Yuanyin was superior to her in many ways, the difference was not so great to keep Song from holding her own. He was stronger, but she was more experienced, using active parries and well-timed Deflections to avoid a direct clash. He was faster, but she had more reach, so by controlling the range at which they fought, she was able to make up for the discrepancy in speed. He was more skilled, able to utilize Reverberation to shake her down to her Core, but her Runic armour was able to negate it so long as she was willing to risk taking a blow on her armour, which she did every now and then to give her more time to recover. All of which was only possible because she could predict his movements in advance, even if she couldn’t quite explain how she did it. What’s more, Song wasn’t fighting alone, for while she and Princess kept the monk in check, Rain’s retinue drove the Defiled back and regained the upper hand atop the battlements, but the crux of the issue still remained. Unless Song could kill Yuanyin here and now, he would forever be a threat just waiting to be unleashed, so she set her mind to unravelling how she might put an end to him once and for all. There was nothing she could do about the Reverberating strikes, for despite all her best efforts, she was unable to wholly negate the effect. The best way to describe it was trying to stop a rivulet of water with only a single finger. No matter how hard she pressed, a trickle of water would always flow around her finger and continue on its merry way, diminished but unabated as the forces ran rampant through her body. Though not enough to cause significant injury, the shock alone prevented her from reacting as freely as she would like, because even if she grit her teeth in preparation to accept the pain, she was still unable to wholly ignore it as her body involuntarily tensed in response.
In fact... this effect was similar to what Yuanyin’s droning chants generated, an involuntary reflex as one defended against the attack. Since they produced similar results, perhaps their foundations were based in the same basic skill, namely Reverberation. Then again, sound was merely the reverberation or vibration of air, which humans and animals alike translated into an auditory concept. What’s more, the Reverberation wasn’t like anything she’d ever experienced before, transmitted from his weapon to hers and then through the rest of her body, but rather starting from her head and making it’s way downwards from there.
Or maybe not her head, but her ears.
That was it. Sound. Yuanyin was using sound as a medium for his Reverberating attacks, the same way Luo-Luo used her music as a medium for Aura.
As their blades hurtled headlong towards each other once again, Song drew back a split second before the point of impact and utilized a soft block instead, guiding his attack out and away rather than stopping it entirely in place. The Reverberating tremors still rocked her from head to toe, but the intensity was woefully lacking in comparison. A look of surprise flashed across Yuanyin’s face before he mastered his expression, but it was enough to tell Song she was already on the right track. No longer did she aim to clash headlong against him, but instead sought to avoid his attacks altogether, a transition she made as easily as turning a hand. Rather than the Movements of the Tiger Form which she favoured, she took up the Snake, Mantis, and Oriole instead, her steps and sabre moving erratically to the beat of her own music which shifted without rhyme or reason. The symphony of steel faded away and for long seconds, the only sounds of their battle came from their footsteps upon the stone and Yuanyin’s ineffective chants, laid overtop a foundation of Princess’s slavering rumbles.
The traitor monk’s fury almost brought a smile to Song’s face, but she was not yet satisfied with her achievements. Yes, she’d managed to negate his attacks, but like Papa said, one could not win while focusing solely on defence. One mistake was all it would take to render all her efforts for naught, so she needed to do more than endure his assault. She had to emerge victorious from their exchange, which meant it was time to show Yuanyin that she had claws of her own.
“Solemn is the Clear Temple.”
Difficult to tell who said it first. It could have been Mama’s voice, echoing out from within the confines of Song’s newly restored Natal Palace. Or maybe it’d come from herself and Mama’s voice shifted to match, though this was unlikely since Song had no earthly idea why she suddenly felt the urge to recite a poem out-loud. The last possibility was both the most ludicrous and likely explanation of all, because for a brief, infinitesimal moment, Song thought she heard Rain’s voice reciting along with her.
Strange, but not something to dwell on just yet. “Reverent are its illustrious adherents,” she continued, this time infusing her Chi into her voice, but judging from Yuanyin’s puzzled expression, it had yet to have any effect on him just yet.
“Dignified are the gathered officials.” Pouring even more Chi into the next stanza, Song’s voice boomed out over the battlefield and echoed off the walls before traversing far out into the Azure Sea, and while Yuanyin flinched in response, she saw it was more out of shock and surprise than anything else. Hmph, what sort of Warrior was he, to be shaken by mere words? Not a Warrior at all, but the Confessor’s Successor, a sadist who tortured countless of helpless innocents. That was the measure of the man she fought here today, and she refused to be found wanting.
Seizing upon her contempt and outrage, she channelled it into her Chi the same way she would imbue her Aura with emotion and delivered the next scathing stanza. “Adhering to the virtues of Nobility.” The results were more satisfying than she could ever imagine as Yuanyin’s body stiffened in evident anguish, but this was far from enough to sate her appetite. Tiger Swipes the Rushes, and her sabre lashed out, her new weapon catching her foe clean across the cheek as he raise his sword a beat too late to block the blow entirely.
If one strike was not enough, then she would deliver two, then three, four, and however many more until he lay dead at her feet. “Praising our Mother in Heaven.” Her sabre glanced off his ribs, the Honed blade somehow failing to cut clean through his bones, but Song’s attack had only just begun. “They Hurry swiftly into the temple.” Falling a half-step back, she brought her sabre around to deliver a deadly thrust aimed at Yuanyin’s black heart, but he twisted aside just in time to avoid what should have been a killing blow. “Greatly illustrious, greatly dignified.” Following through with the thrust, she slammed her armoured shoulder into his exposed chest and was rewarded with a heavy, pained grunt, which gave her all the time she needed to reposition her sabre and set it in motion to cleave his head from his shoulders as she recited the last line of the poem. “She safeguards Her children forevermore.”
Her sabre bit deep into the flesh of his neck, and the panic in his eyes was satisfying to behold, but try as she might to follow through with the slash, his bones refused to give way. Even with all of her weight behind her sabre, all Song could do was force Yuanyin to bend back, but try as she might, her Honed blade failed to find purchase. Dark eyes filled with rage and loathing, he moved his lips as if to speak but could only emit a wet gurgle, the connection between his lungs and mouth having been severed by Song’s sabre, and yet still he refused to die. Unwilling to give up just yet, Song mustered all her strength to advance upon her foe and pushed him back a single step, but as his foot lifted off the ground, hers scythed out low to sweep it aside and drive his whole body to the ground. Even this wasn’t enough for her to drive her sabre home, so all she could do was withdraw and retreat as Yuanyin lashed out with a kick that might well have broken her ribs if it’d connected, even through the formidable protection afforded to her by her Runic breastplate.
Heaving himself up to his feet, the monk leaned heavily upon his sword and pressed a hand to his throat while glaring at Song, his anger and hatred doing little to hide the fear lingering within. Though conventional wisdom dictated she keep up her offensive and deny him the time needed to recover, she’d given it her all in that final attack and needed time herself to gather her wits. How could his bones be so durable? It was like trying to carve into a Demon, utterly futile and ineffective, yet he still bled red blood like a human man. There was also the fact that her new chanting poetry was draining to say the least, with almost a third of her Core emptied over the course of an eight-line poem. A necessary expenditure, but she could not help but despair when Yuanyin stood up straight and removed his hand to reveal a bloodied but unmarred neck, the fruits of her labour so easily undone by this most formidable of foes.
To say nothing of how the eyebrowed monk, a supposed Half-Step Divinity of considerable strength and standing, had yet to make a single move despite Yuanyin’s ‘close’ brush with death, meaning he might well have expected this outcome from the start.
Spitting out a wad of bloody phlegm, Yuanyin stretched his neck and pumped his arms as he readied for a second bout, still hesitant despite his many advantages. “Small wonder why the Uniter deemed you a target of interest,” Yuanyin began, cautiously stalking closer with sword extended like the coward that he was. “Even a tiny spark is enough to light a beacon of hope, but I will extinguish all hope here today.”
Only now did Song realize her friends and comrades from Rain’s retinue had taken to chanting her name, their faith holding firm despite her failure to kill him. Despite the daunting tribulation before her, she took no small measure of pride from their conviction and used it to find her confidence once more as she strode out to meet her cowardly foe with sabre in hand. So what if she couldn’t cut through his bones? If that was the case, then she would flay his skin, carve his flesh, and sever his tendons until she drained him of blood and Chi both if that’s what it took to kill him. Formidable though Yuanyin might be, it was his misfortune to face Li Song on the field of battle today, because Papa made her promise to return to him alive, a promise she had every intention to keep.
Alas, the Heavens might have a different fate in store for her, but regardless of what might come, she would give this fight her all, because as a proud Sentinel of the People, Song could do no less.
Chapter Meme