《The Many Blades of Wuxia》24. This will Not Do
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War Camp,
Shoguns Tent,
Sparse ashen motes rained down upon the sullen Camp like flecks of black snow. A product of the Shogun’s expired fireball and the result of an untrained and unloved Technique. The cost in Chi to draining. As such, each mote brought with it the unsettling nausea of Ki sedimentary and had to be removed entirely from around the wounded, lest it pollute their Cultivation.
The display of raw power awed the two Diaymos who had already grown bored of their tasks and come running as soon as they recognised the summons. Forever pitting themselves against Big brothers superior Cultivation, they had grown accustomed to the generous handouts Tsea-gong bestowed upon his most trusted and worthy warriors.
However, pausing before their stoic Masters' tent, second thoughts were quickly formed as they heard him rage within. Even the attendants had been cast out, shuffling about nervously as they waited outside the smouldering Tent.
Both men shared a worried look, each silently guessing they knew what had set him off.
“Bo, perhaps it best if we go clean up first?”
The cowardly question shook Bo from his misgivings.
“Absolutely not! Big brother has been tucked away in his bed sheets, whilst we have pursued honest labour. We’ve been running this Camp. Sorting this massive harvest and purging Ki malformations. I say, let him witness the results of our toils first-hand.”
“If you think coating us in mud will spare us his wrath, then you’re twice the fool you pretend to be.”
“Ha!” Bo chuckled. “You were slow to react.”
“Slow to rea…? It was a grenade! You threw a fifth-rank Core grenade into that pond. Fifth! It’ll take a full day's meditation just to fix my Cultivation you idiot. Not even the monks would come near us after your brainless stunt.”
Still irritated with his companion, he knew it best they get their story straight before one of the Elders told Big brother otherwise. But first he had to get Bo to stop talking rubbish.
“It was the expedient course of action, Cai.”
Bo easily dodged the kick that followed, lifting his hands placatingly. Grinning and unbothered, the cheap shot only risked decapitation to a Seeded or a poorly formed 1st ranker. Truthfully he was relieved to finally have Cai venting, the man had been sulking all morning.
“Our task was to root out Acid Toad spawn from the infected pools, not decimate them!”
“Dearest brother. That pool was simply beyond salvation.”
“Well, it Taker’s Kissed is now Bo.” he scolded. “It’ll be years before anything grows there again. Hear me, we must come up with a…”
Before the conversation could continue, both men felt their spirits wavier as a thunderous presence stormed out of the tent. Regaled in splendid armour once more, his Cultivation was heavy and erratic. Tsea-gong paused mid-stride as the two groups laid eyes on each other.
If anger were a taste on the wind, then all those within the vicinity could boast a five-course meal.
Glancing at the item in Tsea-gongs clenched fist, Cai felt his already battered Cultivation waver. It was as he feared. No stranger to Big Brother's piercing scowls, this time the man uttered not a single word as he scoured each of them with hostile intent.
Bo must have felt it too as Cai watched in horror, the thick-skulled man opened his mouth first.
“Ha! He wears that armour so much better than you Cai.”
He died inside, cringing at his moronic brother. Then quickly realised he might very well die this day as the Shoguns eyes latched onto him with an unbrindled fury. The leather handle creaked in the scabbard from the tightening grip. It was if an Oni had suddenly taken possession of Cai’s tongue as he blurted out without thinking.
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“Bo drank all your Peach wine!”
The world stopped.
The shock on Tsea-gongs face matched that of Bo’s, as a moment of stunned silence passed between the three strongest Cultivators in the camp. Attendants scattered. Leaping over tent ropes, some diving right through them. Even Tsea-gongs guard detail stepped back into the Tent, quietly closing the flap behind them. It was only when the words had left his mouth that Cai realised just what he had done.
“Ooh, you Pyean…” Bo went down with a slap that echoed loudly across the camp.
To Cai’s horror, he only had time to dodge the man’s boots that came flying off. The next image he saw was of Bo lying out cold in the mud, an empty wine sack wrapped around his face. Even Tsea-gong looked slightly surprised. The object had left his hand at the speed of an Emperor's bolt.
Cai gulped, he had not even seen the man throw it. But after witnessing the power behind it, he was relieved the sack was no longer a factor. That relief died just as quick as Tsea-gong moved over to a weapons rack. Choice made, he twirled the giant Tetsubu in his hand and advanced with a nasty grin on his face.
“Now… Tsea… Don’t do anything irrational. We were only trying to help! Someone had to lead the Prayer.”
“And that someone just had to wear my Spiritual Armour? BONDED TO ME!”
Cai waived as he drew his blade and took up a defensive posture. Sheepishly he replied.
“It wouldn’t fit Bo.”
Tents went flying as Tsea-gong swung with the force to flatten the surroundings. Cai’s eyes widened in shock as he hit the floor. Already diving away, the Spiritual force of the blow had carried him further. If his posture had not been a feint, he would have been blasted right out of the Camp. Big brother was not fooling around. He was burning Chi.
“The men were losing heart! Without you, panic ensued! Look! Look around Tsea. There were hangings last night. It was madness!”
The hanging corpses were enough for Tsea-gong to spare a glance, granting Cai the chance to scramble to his feet. He knew his behaviour was shameful, screaming in fright at the punishment due. But in his honourable defence, he had never been on the receiving end of a fully enraged Big brother.
In one hand Tsea-gong pointed the giant Tetsubu at Cai.
“Then your hair-brained idea obviously failed to convince the men.”
Bo groaned as he sat up, peeling the wineskin from his face.
“It was that soft, pencil pusher, fluff monkey of yours fault.”
Cai imagined it would have been wiser to stay down, he would have at least feigned being knocked out for longer. But that was typical Bo and Big brother was all out of mercy. Nearer than Cai, Tsea-gong swatted him like a rag doll. Cracking ribs and sending the large man flying in a hail of collapsing tents.
“Your Arch-tenant stopped us! Said it would never work and chased us out.”
Tsea-gong arched an eyebrow as he approached Cai.
“You really expect me to believe the two of you Pyeanchi had the humble intelligence to obey my trusted servant.”
“He brought monks with him, and not just any monks. Warrior Monks!”
The Shogun paused within range of Cai, patting the heavy Tetsubu in his hand. Though the fear in Cai greatly displeased him, the man had caught his curiosity. He could wait a few seconds before adding this cowardly behaviour to the growing list of his little brother’s punishment.
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“In all my years, I have never seen a monk stop and give aid to a living soul. They will watch a murder happening in broad daylight and then pray for the dead, having never lifted a finger. You know this Cai. Why did the two of you flee my Arch-Tenant?”
Cai gulped as he felt the cage closing in on him.
“Tsea, please understand. We hadn’t had a drop of real liquor since the battle. The medics confiscated everything. And when we found your secret drawer… it was just a sip.”
Lava flowed through his veins and righteous fury in his eyes.
Cai closed his eyes with a sigh.
Masters Hall,
Council of Elders,
After storming around the Camp like a raging boar, correcting mistakes and bellowing orders. Tsea-gong found himself sitting at the head of a formalised gathering of sulky Elders and nervous Captains. His hands twitched with rage beneath the table as they gave their reports, his scowl had only deepened as the rank explained themselves.
All a waste of precious time at this stage. He had already acted upon the poor situation and countermanded many an order. After punishing those two worthless pyeanchi, it was time the rest of his Seniors explained how the situation had deteriorated at such an alarming rate. No wonder those wretched Monks thought so little of him.
Whilst it was the duty of Monks to give prayers helping lost souls reach the heights of the heavens, if they were close enough, or return to the great Cycle. It was the Shoguns duty to lead the procession for the fallen after every great battle.
A simple task of a rousing speech and sending the first Lantern on its way. But his absence had brought about great consternation in a camp already rife with rumours of sabotage and darker ones of insurrection against the Divine Emperor. Many a pointed question had been raised of just how wounded the Shogun might be.
The sheer arrogance, unique only amongst Elders set in their ways. They had only been concerned of desertion in the ranks, think nothing the men’s fears. Their answers as to the Shoguns absence had been resoundingly unsatisfactory, flippant even. These were men and women who had seen the Shogun covered in burns from the Salamander he now wore and still been fit enough to lead the Ceremony of the fallen.
Now having suffered the worst casualties on record, their Elders seemed to care naught for their loss. Even their young Hero had been taken away, with none knowing what had happened to him. A deep-seated discord had finally broken free from the men of the First Wall. The low-born had risen up.
With many new positions needing filling and work unceasing, fights had broken out and blood spilt. Noble blood and commoner alike. Leading to hangings and officers vanishing in the night.
When the Arch-tenants’ servants had come running to inform him of the chaos happening outside his tent, he with the aid of Bo and Cai had separated the Captains and Sergeants to different areas and tasks. Forbidding all further executions until the Shogun rise.
Progress on the harvest had ground to a near halt and if not for the presence of the Monks, the Camp would have fallen into complete disarray. The night of bloodshed and score settling had left the camp bitterly divided with rampant rumours, ceasing only upon the visual display of the Shoguns awakening.
What many had taken to be as another outrageous act of sabotage upon the Watch, had instead turned out to be the Shogun rising hale from his rumoured death bed. A collective sigh of relief washed through the Camp as all breathed easier, but for most the damage had already been done. An impossible tipping point reached.
The price of Honour had been openly called into question and the answer found woefully lacking.
“I don’t get it. I knew he’d be upset, but I’ve never known him to be this angry.”
“Oh, shut up, you swine. You swore to me that you left enough to go unnoticed. Now I’m on the same rope as a fat pig for a fraction of the same crime. No wonder you were acting like a madman all day. Throwing a grenade in that pool. You were drunk on Spirit Wine!”
Bo stifled a groan as he shifted on his chair. With two broken ribs it was hard to breathe and sit straight. Worse, there were no healing potions to be had. Those miserable unforgiving medics claimed they had used them all up on lost causes, not a one sympathetic to the mighty Cultivator.
“Better a pig than a rat. I still can’t believe you told on like that. Don't ignore me. Why not just go buy some more of this precious wine he’s always hiding from us? He’s by far the richest man here."
Cai rolled his eyes and then immediately focused back on the floor having caught a glint of the Shoguns burning gaze. Made to sit at the very back of the Tent separate from the gathered rank. The two most powerful Cultivators had been shamed into guard detail, forbidden from speaking.
“They’re Monks, Bo. A bunch of vindictive old mountain mystics and charlatans, more steeped in lore than any sort of Technique training. They are not interested in money. They trade in favours and stupid riddles. Now be quiet! I... I think he can hear us.”
“You’re being paranoid, he’s not a god. He can’t read our minds. Besides, compared to me all he did was tickle you.
Cai turned a previously beautiful, now swollen face on Bo and snarled, splitting his lip open once more.
“And how in the Nine hells do you tickle someone with a tetsubu, Bo? When your three days are up, I hope he breaks the rest of your ribs.”
“Don’t be so sour. And why would I wait three days? As soon as we’re done here, I’ll send my steward to retrieve one of those wineskins from the closest temple and be done with it. He’s most capable.”
“You don’t get it Bo. Spirit wine is Seasonal! The monks don’t use the same Noble farming techniques. They don’t use any Cores at all. Their tree’s only produce a crop once a year.
“Once a Year!” Exclaimed Bo. “Just how are we supposed to get more in three days?
“SILENCE!” In the quiet tent, the voice boomed in their heads.
Tsea-gongs Cultivation flowed through the divide of gathered Captains, like a raging river. Though he had quickly learnt his aim was sharper, he was still struggling with how easily a greater volume of Chi would flow from his reforged meridians. The torrent, quicker and deadlier. His Spiritual force struck the two offending Sacred Artists right through the marrow of their bones, like a kick to the groin.
Clueless of what they were saying, he knew they were saying something. And if he could notice, then so could the others. They should have been paying attention to this meeting, or at least displaying a courteous amount of remorse.
“If I must deal with the two of you again today, it will be to bury you.”
Public displays of chastisement left a sour taste in his mouth, especially on the only two men he would call friends. But they had shamed him with their behaviour. Crossed the line in attempting to wear his sacred armour. And maybe even doomed him from a creature he still struggled to believe could exist.
What could have been a quick fix was now made exceedingly more difficult, all because of these two overgrown children. If he could not scrub this elusive taint from his being before it was too late, there was no telling what might befall him. An unknown impending sense of doom galled him to no end.
Approaching and bowing to give his report, the young Captain was startled by a small gust of wind that blew across the table ruffling parchments. Curiosity turned to heartfelt terror as the two most powerful men gathered besides the Shogun, fell off their chairs clutching their heads groaning. Glancing at the nearest Elders, all had completely failed to notice with deliberate focus on the tips of their boots and the depths of their tea.
Caught out in the open like a trespassing Toka-Yoshi, he flinched when he felt the Shoguns quiet gaze settle on him once more. The giant Azuma claw slipped from his grasp onto the table with a heavy thunk. All eyes were lifted onto it. What had been yesterday's most feared weapon, was now a calming focus in the storm of the Shoguns wrath.
Carried back to a moment of satisfaction. Tsea-gong gazed upon the fallen object. Amazingly it was even larger than the one Bo had brought in, well on its way to becoming a Prime Beast. Nothing like the retractable claws of the smaller marsh cats, it was more like a toed talon.
“Shogun, honoured Elders, this is from one of the larger of Azuma slain yesterday. I beg you to hear that these creatures are different from before. Although I did not achieve this feat alone, I bring it before you as the sole survivor. Of the many contingents tasked with controlling the overflow from the first wall, ours set off in pursuit of this Azuma. Two died in battle, the third of his wounds last night.”
The young Captain gazed low, shamed as he weathered the mutters from Elder Captains behind him. Owing this much to be truthful of his companion's sacrifice, his chances of now climbing from student to disciple dropped significantly. Such a loss of three first-year Noble bloods in an arena full of traps, could only be construed as gross negligence.
Whilst the Watch was shaped to military title and rank, that the Nobility paid into. It did not prevent the rise of Elders and Prime Elders within the rank structure. The habits of the nobility hard to relinquish, none such more than power.
“This was no normal Beast.” The Captain protested, drawing tongue clicks of disdain and whispers of the young fools pertinence.
Focusing solely on the Shogun, the Captain blurted out his report.
“By your Will Shogun each tower division of the first wall sits at 200 spears, with fifty Heavies included in that number. These armoured veterans are mandated to hold firm any greater Beast that cannot be tempted off the wall. Only when the Beasts freedom of movement is restricted by these veterans, will an Overflow contingent leave their position in the Arena and enter onto the first wall to kill it.”
A Prime Elder interrupted with a cough as he cleared his throat.
“Our Lord is well aware of standard practices, Captain. As are we all, however rare they might be.”
The young Captain bowed in acquiescence to his Senior, acknowledging the rarity of a Beast falling into a frenzy on the first wall.
“Perhaps you believe an accusation on some other department might excuse your Contingents poor performance. Well, here I am Captain and here is Prime Elder Ji-yang. Do you dare to accuse the FireBrands veteran Spears of failing to hold your Beast, or was it my Wind Dancers that could not to tempt it to enter the Arena?”
Not yet given leave to rise, the Captain replied still bowing towards the Prime Elder.
“I would never dare accuse an Elder of failure in their duties, honourable Prime Elder Choa-peng. My intent alone was to state the standard practises and value for a contingent of Overflow Captains. That value being less than two ballistae.”
“As the first in our section was already destroyed, we could not wait upon the Spear veterans or Wind Dancers. My companions fought bravely, sacrificing their lives”
Honour is dependent on the manner of your success. Did your team manage to prevent the second Ballistae from being destroyed?”
“No, Prime Elder Choa-peng”
“So, you admit then it was your own folly that led to the ultimate failure AND destruction of your team.”
“I do, Prime Elder Choa-peng…”
Wavering, the Captain felt the burning gaze of the Prime Elder on his back. He knew of the clear line before him. The dire consequences of crossing it all too real, but his dead companions cried out for their honour denied on the other side. Their sacrifice spurned.
“This is true as I am only in position to speak for my section of the wall. But as we know now today, that every single Ballista was destroyed, perhaps the standard practises need redressing.”
Protests erupted in the Tent, with accusations and insults hurled at the doomed Captain.
“Arrogant young fool!” Choa-peng roared. “You think yourself your own Master. Who gave you leave to rise?”
“Enough!” Tsea-gong boomed across the gathering, silencing everyone immediately. “He was courteous enough with you already, Choa-peng. You are both Captains by rank and he need not wait for your permission to rise.”
The Shogun turned to the calmer of the two Prime Elders in question.
“FireBrand, does this man speak the truth? Have every one of my Ballistae been destroyed?”
“Yes, Seo-sang. Not only did some of these Azuma display great cunning in targeting the Ballistae teams, but they also possessed the knowledge of breaching the wards by not channelling their Cores as they climbed. Once past the Spiritual wards, they were free to power up again. Heading for the first and second Ballistae teams whilst leaping over the Heavies. It was a targeted slaughter.”
The Shogun ground his teeth, not registering the groan of the tent poles as his Cultivation turned turbulent. The others did though, concerned and frightened at this change in Tsea-gong. All held their tongues, respecting the peace. Finally, the Shogun calmed himself enough to look up on Chao-peng.
“And you Storm Cloud? Could your Wind Dancers not tempt these Azuma before they wrought the complete annihilation of my Ballistae teams?”
Bitter at being called out, he had wanted some sort of solution in place before Tsea-gong publicly questioned him. He knew for a fact how coveted his position was by the other Elders. Unlike the Fire Brands, no Elder in their right mind wanted a posting along the first wall.
“Seo-sang, I have gone through every report brought in by my surviving Wind Dancers. Each stating that for every one taunted into the pits below, another two were there to replace it. I even have reports of my more skilled Wind Dancers, landing on the noses of these monstrosities and still failing to elicit their Beastial hunger for Chi.”
“Surviving?” Tsea-gong asked incredulous. “We lost Wind Dancers yesterday?”
Choa-peng suppressed a shiver as static ran across the large wooden table Tsea-gong sat at. That should not have been possible.
“Ten, Seo-sang. Desperate and foolish enough to get too close to these Beasts.”
Tsea-gong whispered icily.
“A team of four Captains down in the pits noticed this slaughter and acted. Where were my greatest warriors, Elders?”
The protests were immediate.
“We went with you chasing down the Kaiju Master.”
“The call to fall back was Given.”
“If we had joined, our Cultivation would have hampered the Spears.”
“My Archers were targeting them.”
“The Beasts kept leaping back into the Wave.”
“Enough! Did any one of you think standard tactics and effort would be enough for a dual Beast Wave?”
“A contract for 160 Ballistae has been awarded to the Carpenters guild. With new protective designs promised by a School affiliated with them. They are in the works as we speak.”
For the first time this day, Tsea-gong found his spirits calming as he looked up to the familiar voice. Into the chaos walked the Arch-tenant smothering a smile, beside him came Kido.
The Arch-tenant and Kido bowed deeply as the Shogun rose from his table.
“All Disciples and students out! Elders, please remain. It is time we re-evaluate our tactics.”
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