Shi Hu was bellowing at his men, trying to get them to regain some semblance of order. Shield-bearers were to restore the shield wall, the rest who were still mobile were to drag those too injured for battle to the sides. Then they would form up and charge down the middle, right through the flimsy-looking village doors.

Holding up the two makeshift shields, he was about to make his way to the front of the formation, when his senses suddenly screamed at him. Acting on instinct, he spun to the back, holding the shields over his head. Just in time to block the impact from a smouldering boulder, forcing him to stagger many steps backward, as it sent jarring pains all the way up his wrists, arms and elbows.

“Alright! I’m done playing throw the pebble! You throw at me, I throw it back… no matter how fancy the pebble is, it’s boring!”

Wukong walked out of the smoke and flames, patting away the dirt and dust from his fur and tiger skin kilt. Shooting a glare at Shi Hu, he dropped down into a ready stance, holding his quarterstaff in a two-handed grip at one end. The other end pointed at Shi Hu.

“Give me a good fight if you can, you half-assed kitty!”

Shi Hu gave him a complex look, somewhere between being puzzled and outraged. “Half-assed… kitty?”

“Yeah! Puffy lion, skinny tiger, it’s like you can’t decide which you wanna be!”

Nobody knows if Wukong was earnestly confused about demon biology while spewing his usual nonsensical trash-talk. What was apparent, was how it was received.

“You… you DARE insult my honorable parents! I’ll bring them your head!” screamed Shi Hu. All dignity forgotten, his eyes were bulging and bloodshot.

Shi Hu charged forwards, shield in each hand. Instead of ramming into Wukong like before, this time, he waited until he was near his target before launching a flurry of punches. The sheer size of the shields would make dodging them difficult, and he had the explosive strength to turn a smaller demon to pulp with just one hit.

Wukong was ready. Wielding his quarterstaff with an end-grip, like one would a spear, it allowed him to put more than five feet of metal staff between him and the twin punching shields. This time, he fought like a whirling dervish, spinning this way and that to avoid the frenzied punching shields. When he was unable to dodge an oncoming shield, he would hit it with his quarterstaff while hopping in the air, using the force to send him away from the attack.

It turned out, there was a method to the madness, and the new spinning style of Wukong’s was not just for show. After a series of close-calls, Wukong gathered enough momentum to hit the corner of a shield so hard, it tore the breastplate away from the rest of the shield, sending it flying away.

There was a pause. Shi Hu looked at his now diminished shield, feeling slightly indignant. This would never have happened if it had been a properly crafted shield, instead of a ramshackle collection of lashed-together discarded breastplates. He regretted saying “there’s no need” when the question of fully arming themselves came up while preparing to make their way to the village. Scale-tooth must be laughing his tail off right now, itching to say “I told you so!”.

He threw the misshapen shield at the monkey, drawing his nine-ringed broadsword. It was time to get serious.

***

Trip crashed against Bajie’s back before falling to the ground. She rolled back to her feet, moving as fast as she could to prepare herself in case there was another flame bolt coming her way. Trying to yell above the ringing in her head, she shoved at Bajie. “Get back to the village gate! Hold off the demons if you can!”

She couldn’t hear Bajie’s reply, but it was enough to see him waddling back to the village. Scrambling back to the pile of pistols, she began switching out the spent pistols in her torso holders for reloaded ones, while remaining alert for further attacks from the red-robed crocodile hybrid making its way to the front.

Earlier, after Wukong’s headlong rush into battle, she’d kept tabs on him. She’d seen him being thrown into the air, and observed the subsequent barrage of flame bolts. The flaming boulder had been new, and quite alarming. She’d set herself on high alert, even while still shooting at the largest clumps of unharmed demons she could see, knowing there was a red robe more powerful than any she’d ever encountered before.

Which was why, while in the middle of shooting at the massed demons, she’d dodged and rolled the moment she glimpsed a reddish-orange glow out the corner of her eye. That reflex saved her life, causing flame bolt to miss her entirely. Part of her analyzed the aftereffects of the explosion that was able to send her entirely off her feet. A flame bolt that was able to leave a smoking crater in the ground, larger than even one created with a flask full of gunpowder.

The croc was encased in a translucent scaled red shield, waving its hands as it shouted at the demons to form up. Deciding to risk retaliation, Trip took aim with a pistol.

BOOM!

The croc paused, turning in her direction, a tiny crack in the red scale above its right eye. Even at that distance, Trip could see that there was still another layer of red force shield beneath that cracked red scale. The croc wiped one hand across the red scale, causing the crack to disappear, making the red scale whole again.

Multi-layered force armour that the red robe could heal at any time. How much mental energy did that red robe have anyway?

The croc walked to the front of the milling demons, accompanied by the sound of scattered cheering and roars. It seemed that the demons’ morale had been bolstered by Scale-tooth remaining impervious to her bullets. The cheering intensified when the croc formed a wide red shield with both hands, wide enough to cover an additional bear demon on each side. Jostling one another for position, the demons crowded behind the red force shield, huddling up beside and behind the croc.

Holsters and hands now full of reloaded pistols, Trip frowned. If she continued to shoot from where she was, the croc would be free to throw flame bolts at her, and who knew how many that croc had left in him? How many could she avoid without resorting to cover behind the barricade? On top of that, she wasn’t sure if the barricade could stand up to even one of those explosive flame bolts. For the same reason, if she retreated back behind the village walls now, those flame bolts might easily reduce them to kindling.

Without time to reload more, all she had left were the pistols on her, her trusty revolver, and her knives. Not enough to take down the rest of the demons. For a brief moment, she regretted leaving her crossbow with White Dragon, even knowing that it would only provide an additional shot while being too cumbersome to keep with her. Where was White Dragon anyway? He was always disappearing, she would have to talk-

She shook her head, hard. She couldn’t let fatigue get the better of her, letting her thoughts wander. She would have to focus on the croc and hope the villagers could deal with the rest.

Assess. Decide. Commit.

She looked back at the defenders, catching Elder Mu’s steady gaze. “It’s up to you now. Good luck!” she shouted.

Throughout the entire battle, Trip had been trying to stay focused. That was being made increasingly difficult by the realisation that she was the one who’d started the chain of events leading to this attack on the village. This was her responsibility. To protect the villagers, to at least give them the best chance of surviving this, there was only one thing she could do.

Papa. Mama. Your daughter remains true to your teachings. Please watch over little brother.

She started walking towards the red-robed croc.

-- Chapter 43, End --