Encase flesh in steel

Enrich nerves with lightning,

Such are the aegises of Paths

Kill with hands and feet

Murder with blades

Thus are the battlefield’s Forms

—Qian Yan the Desecrated, once of Wu Dang

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The Stormbringer was fury incarnate. It burned Raksha with its might, dulled his regard for pain and horror, told him to kill and kill. But Raksha fought it. He wouldn’t be beholden to anything—not the Hegemonic Lords, not the Orthodox Orders, and certainly not his own martial Path. He choked the Stormbringer with his resolve and stamped its howling madness back down into the darkest wells of his soul even as he forced its power to his purpose.

Raksha rammed his blade into the face of the first Razor Acolyte to enter Unit 21. He kicked the spasming corpse aside, stepped through the doorway into the corridor, and locked weapons with another Razor Acolyte. Her twin hook-swords ground against his blade. Her crimson eyes widened as Raksha placed a hand upon her chest.

“Die.” He projected his aegis right through her torso. Her heart burst within her ribcage. Blood spewed from the woman’s mouth as she fell limply at his feet.

But then Raksha had to lean backwards from a series of sword strokes that would have opened his throat in three different places. Another Razor Acolyte now stood before him, a slim sword in her hand. Her left shoulder guard bore an insignia that likely indicated some form of rank or seniority. Her features were slender and cruel, partially hidden beneath flowing locks of dark hair.

Raksha swept his halberd across and flicked aside another sword stroke that had been aimed at his groin. The Razor Acolyte’s follow-up slipped past his defenses and cut a slight welt on his cheek.

Raksha gave ground, backing off through the doorway. The woman followed, but Ko’ais streaked past him, shrieking in fury. She lashed out with her short sword, bringing it into a more brutal and less subtle version of the blade Form the sword-wielding Razor Acolyte was using.

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Their weapons clashed again and again, with neither woman gaining an advantage over the other. A devious backhand sliced a ribbon of fabric off Ko’ais sleeve. A series of vicious thrusts nearly disemboweled the Razor Acolyte.

Raksha looked around, but there was not enough room for him to flank Ko’ais’s opponent. He shrugged, put his blade down, and began tugging on his boots. Now was as good a time to dress as any. He studied the contest between Ko’ais and the swordswoman as he tightened the laces. As far as he could tell, Ko’ais had the stronger aegis, but her opponent was far more skilled in swordplay. Perhaps if Ko’ais could somehow draw the Razor Acolyte into tighter quarters or bring the fight to uneven terrain, she could—

Ko’shin’s terrified whimper broke his train of thought. Raksha looked over his shoulder. The boy was cowering on his mattress and shaking with fear.

“Stay down.” Raksha waved his hand in what he hoped was a placating gesture. “We’ll keep you safe.”

“Brother Raksha will?” Ko’shin muttered, his eyes wide.

Raksha nodded. “Yes.”

“Where’s sis?” Ko’shin asked.

Raksha pointed at Ko’ais. She was still engaged in combat with the Razor Acolyte just outside the doorway. Her crimson eyes blazed beneath the flickering light of corridor lamps. She howled and screeched for death and destruction.

“No…” Ko’shin sobbed. “That’s not sis. She’s gone away again.”

“Don’t cry,” Raksha said. “I’ll bring her back, I promise.”

Ko’shin nodded and opened his mouth to say something, but his eyes darted to a point behind Raksha’s shoulder. Raksha spun on his heel, tearing as much strength as he could from the Stormbringer.

Xi’ruo’s palm thundered in, the might of her aegis splitting the stale air of the habitant unit. Raksha met her palm with his. Their aegises clashed with a sound like steel screeching across glass.

Another Razor Acolyte emerged from the shadows of the bedroom and placed a hand on Xi’ruo’s shoulder. The combined might of their aegises staggered Raksha. A minor vessel ruptured within, sending a trickle of blood down the corner of his mouth. But his internal energy outclassed theirs. All he needed to do was to collect himself and then—

A third Razor Acolyte emerged and placed her hand on Xi’ruo’s other shoulder. Raksha found himself buffeted by the ravening energies of three Scarlet Thorn aegises. Threatened with extinction, the Stormbringer scrabbled and tore at the chains of discipline and resolve Raksha had woven around it. Soon, his major channels would rupture. His nexus would implode.

Raksha snarled. He couldn’t die here. His Master had given him a task, and he had to complete it. He’d also promised to keep Ko’shin safe. He needed more power. He—

The Stormbringer snapped its chains.

It… chuckled, a low, bestial sound that echoed through the shadows of Raksha’s mind.

And then it shrieked forth, filling his limbs with its true strength and flooding his being with the full extent of its fury. Raksha retched in disgust as he felt his spinal channels writhe and roil to accommodate its might. The three Razor Acolytes gasped in collective surprise as he forced their aegises back. Xi’ruo’s arm trembled.

“He’s as strong as Ko’ais!” one of them cried.

“Focus!” Xi’ruo grunted. “Focus, you maggots!”