Chapter 105
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Chapter 105
Sitting nervously atop Shana's back, Adujan made her way to the Iron Banner's compound, praying to the Mother that they were staying in the same manor as before. Without any other clue as to their whereabouts, it would raise suspicions if she were to ask for directions and Teacher Du had been adamant she remained unnoticed. He even ordered her to enter through a different gate, having concocted some sort of plan to deal with the Society without sharing any details on the matter. Even the Divine Blacksmith was without knowledge, camped out in the mountains to delay his arrival, more cloak and dagger nonsense that Adujan did not understand.
The odour of burnt flesh and wood-smoke permeated the air, the wind changing often and bringing a fetid stench to her nostrils, the rancid stink of death and decay. Soldiers and civilians alike filled the streets, each person moving with distinct purpose, the ever-present threat of attack hanging over one and all. She had seen the Defiled army while traversing the mountains to reach the western gate, an endless horde of unclean warriors milling about just outside of bow-range, seeming wild and ferocious even from a great distance. Just the memory of the sight was enough to send a chill down her spine, her eyes able to pick out the hulking forms of a number of Demons.
The scars of battle were clear to see, wounded soldiers put to use as coolies and messengers, battle-scarred armor and weapons close to hand. The two walls of the Bridge were all that held back the swarm of Demons and Defiled, and every person here was willing to lay down their lives in defense of the Empire, heroes one and all. If the Defiled were not stopped here, the Province would fall with little resistance, no city able to withstand that massive torrent of warriors. Not even the massive walls of the Society Headquarters would be able to hold, giving the Defiled clear access to the heart of the Empire, a disastrous result that would see hundreds of millions dead and worse.
Dismissing her memories of the tiny, burnt out village, she glanced back at her shadow, Kyung, impassive as always. She wondered if it was a natural or learned trait, his stony features a rugged mirror of Li Song's neutral expression. Riding atop of Zabu, the fussy quin seemed none too happy at the constant change of riders, his body language clearly displaying anxiety, ready to lunge at anyone who approached him. Clicking her tongue for his attention, she tossed him a piece of dried fruit and smiled as he ran beside her to feed Shana. Fondly patting his furry head, he squeaked in delight and begged for more treats, which she happily obliged. With the eighth month almost halfway finished, Shana would be ready to lay her eggs within a handful of weeks, the sweet quin fatter than ever as her body prepared for the arduous task ahead. Hopefully, they will have returned to Teacher Du's home by then, else it would be difficult to ensure the eggs were well protected on their journey.
A few missed turns and panicked moments later, she stood in front of the Iron Banner's lodgings, nervously knocking on the door while Kyung stood back with the quins. The door opened to a somewhat familiar face, the same attendant she had met on her first visit five months ago, a good sign. Hello, I've a message for Capta err... Major Baatar of the Iron Banner. Or maybe he'd been promoted again, who knew. She had little interaction with the valiant hero, her entire journey with the Banner spent tongue-tied and skittish, unsure how to act around them.
After stabling Zabu and Shana, she followed the attendant with Kyung in tow, entering the common room of the manor where the members of the Banner sat together, mingling and resting until their next shift. Sitting by the fire was Tenjin, his multitude of daggers decorating his body, each one a Spiritual Weapon, while reading in the corner was Tursinai, idly twirling her sickle through her fingers. More Bannermen were strewn about the room in ones and twos, overwhelming her with excitement at seeing her heroes once again.
While she gawked about the room in awe, a polite cough grasped her attention and she turned to face Major Baatar himself. The Bloody Fang strapped to his waist, his pole-axe, the Crescent Moon, leaning against the wall, the hero of the People sat at a table, eating his meal and staring her down as if she were prey for his cooking pots. You've a message for me?
Cursing herself for being an idiot, she fumbled for the sealed message in her pouch while nodding repeatedly, her shaking fingers having trouble grasping the wooden case. Holding it out respectfully in both hands, she half-bowed as she presented the message, wishing her body would stop shivering. After reading the message, the Major spoke again. You are Adujan? She responded with more frantic nodding, unable to speak.
Before she could even register a movement, a loud thud sounded from behind her, and the Bloody Fang rested against her neck. Glancing down, she saw Kyung prone on the ground, Gerel pinning him down with ease, despite only having a single arm. Clever of you to do your research, Adujan is indeed the student of Du Min Gyu, but you made a simple mistake. Baatar leaned forward, the promise of violence displayed in his blue eyes and wolfish smile. Adujan is a boy. You will tell me who your employers are and how you came about your information.
Tch, take yer sword away from the girl ye mule-headed, dim-witted twit. A meaty hand shoved the Major away and Adujan was encompassed in Ghurda's warm embrace. Ah little child, look at you, not even half a year and you've blossomed into a lovely lady, how wonderful. You look better now, more plump and no longer slouching, although your pant's do seem a bit too tight to be proper. Adujan's cheeks burned with her embarrassment, her awe of Baatar dropping several measures as she hid inside Ghurda's arms. How could her hero be as dense as Rain?
Roars of laughter accompanied them as Ghurda ushered them to a private room, and Adujan sipped her tea slowly, sitting across from the Major, a hangdog look upon his face. With an embarrassed cough, he began their conversation once again. I apologize for my mistake and for assaulting your companion. Clearing his throat, he seemed to regain his poise as he continued. Nonetheless, since I am sure my Mentor has failed to mention it, we celebrated the news that you have found a Teacher for yourself, and wish you all the best in your endeavors. She has a weakness when it comes to social graces. A stern look crossed his face as he leaned forward, and Adujan steeled herself to keep from shying away. Remember, you are a Sentinel and one of the People, now and always. Should you ever need help, make your way back to us or send word, and the Sentinels or the Iron Banner will ride to your aid.
Gratified by his words, she mumbled an incoherent reply into her teacup, hiding her tears. She had worried that her decision to leave had displeased the Chief Provost, only receiving a curt dismissal, but Baatar was not one for empty promises. Patting her back, Ghurda comforted her, speaking softly. Ah, there there little Adujan, no need to be sad, it will be some time yet before yer departure and yer Teacher wants you to stay with us. That means for a few days, you'll be riding with the Banner eh? Smiling mischievously, she continued. Tell me about yer companion, he's a handsome lad, isn't he? Would he be the reason for your transformation? Ye can always tell when a maiden's in love. Ghurda continued without allowing Adujan to speak, pinching her cheeks lightly. Almost makes me want to weep, I'd hoped to bring you into my family as little Huu's wife, yer that shy boy's only female friend. What am I to do with him now?
Sputtering on her tea, Adujan choked on her laughter, and coughed out, Oh you won't need to worry about Huu, he's quite the ladies ma... As soon as she uttered the words, her eyes widened in horror, her hand clamping her mouth shut.
Oh Fuck.
Carrying a double-edged long sword, Fung looked far more confident, charging forward without hesitation. Darting Fang into Slithering Pursuit, countered by his opponent with Gliding Wing, their first exchange was once again in his favour, but this time it was not wasted. Pressing his advantage, Fung's sword smashed aside Zian's sabres, forcing the older boy backwards. Sticking close, he continued his assault with measured cuts and thrusts, keeping his opponent off-balance. With a change of pace, his sword drew back, surprising Zian for a single heartbeat, his blades moving in the wrong direction to parry, and a powerful thrust from Fung pinked Zian's shoulder as he stepped aside, the fury on the older boy's face ugly to behold. First blood to Fung, but Min Gyu kept silent, allowing the match to continue.
An impressive display from Fung, but in the end, his opponent was more experienced, the five years age difference too steep for him to surpass. A flurry of attacks from Zian's sabres bought him room to recover, Fung unable to stop two swords with one, a series of light cuts showing through his expensive robes. Gamely fighting on, Fung blocked strike after strike, their weapons clashing in a concert of steel, frustration mounting on Zian's face as he struggled to end the fight in a suitably impressive manner, the girlish idiot not taking Min Gyu's words to heart.
After twelve more frantic exchanges, a lull in the match saw both participants heaving as they regained their breath, their weapons held at the ready, neither one willing to show weakness as they stood across from one another, and Min Gyu fought to keep from yawning. The match should have ended long ago if not for Zian's obsession with winning cleanly, Fung gamely holding on with scant hope of winning. The difference in skill was simply too large.
Enough of this. His handsome face twisted in anger, Zian had apparently had enough. Foolish child, you think you can match me? Let me show you the true difference between us. Rolling his eyes, Min Gyu sat back with a sigh, shaking his head slightly while he inwardly delighted at Yang's dismal look. Idiotic to chat in the midst of a match, but it was a sin many youngsters committed. Better to save your breath for fighting, but pompous children so loved to hear the sound of their own voices. That was the worst part of his epic, the Battle at KunLun. The playwrights had depicted him as a singing warrior, exchanging verbal quips with the Butcher in the form of opera songs while they gently tapped weapons, utter foolishness. Were it up to him, he would have all involved strung up and tortured for degrading his last battle, but the nobility and citizenry had loved it, the idiots that they were.
A wave of power disturbed his imaginings of screaming writers and crying actors, and he focused his attentions once more on the match before him. Not good, Yang seemed to have noticed his distraction, peering oddly at him. Was this what it was like to go Senile? His eyes narrowed as he studied Zian, the ripples of chi surging out from him in a crude manner. Hmm, 24 and able to condense an aura, passable, but his control was lacking.
The bare minimum requirement for facing a demon, condensing one's aura was a feat beyond most warriors, not something easily taught. Tied directly to emotion, it required a build up and release of it through the surrounding chi, a defense against the vile corruption that followed Demons about, tainting the very air around them, bringing lesser men to their knees. Zian was attempting the same thing, but without being able to direct his aura, it was largely a wasted effort.
Moving stiffly, Fung put up a valiant effort as he struggled against his opponents aura, but with his primal instincts fighting him, screaming at him to flee, it was all but finished. With a fanciful two-sword flourish, Zian disarmed Fung and slapped him across the face with the flat of his blade, before returning his weapons to their sheaths in a display meant to impress, Fung's sword still clattering as it slid across the floor. Arrogant but skilled, prideful and careless, too headstrong and easily pleased. 7 points out of ten, failure.
You may leave now. Sitting back into his chair, he organized his thoughts for the coming trial, rethinking his plans with this new information in hand. Were Zian paired against his student, she would have a 75% chance of killing him if she struck viciously as soon as the match began, but should that gambit fail, his student would be left without her spiritual weapon and facing an opponent beyond her skills. What to do now? Three matches and he could guarantee victory in one, but with five separate trials, Kyung could at most find victory twice, and that was being optimistic. Perhaps he could smuggle away with his student, leaving Kyung behind to fulfill his obligations, but that line of thought sat poorly with him, the coward's way out.
...Hero Du? Interrupting his musings, Yang stood before him, with none of the empty flattery he had entered the room with, anger clear in his tone. You are rejecting my nephew?
Time to insult them overtly, perhaps planting a seed of doubt in Zian and inciting rage in Yang. I see deafness runs in the family. Your nephew is unable to follow the most basic of instructions and too weak for me to overlook his glaring flaws. Inferior in all aspects to Fung except in age, he is not worth the effort to teach. Leave or be removed, I care not either way. Waving them away, he froze as he spied his trembling hand, quickly concealing it away in his sleeve, but it was too late, seen by both uncle and nephew.
Eyes narrowed, Yang retorted, Come Zian, you don't need a feeble old man to teach you how to fight. The stories of his past glories blinded me, unable to see the simple truth, shivering before me. As he marched out, he added, I pray you have a safe journey home, the North is full of dangers for an aged gentleman such as yourself.
Damn, a moment's carelessness had ruined his plan, no longer able to use his support for the Bekhai to cause a panic among the Society factions. Before the night fell, news of his weakness would spread far and wide, urged on by Yang until every soldier and citizen at the Bridge knew of Du Min Gyu's ailing health. Sighing deeply, he sank into his seat and closed his eyes, once again cursing his old age. Well, at the very least, he could now die in combat once again, Yang's poorly veiled threat instilling some hope in him, the thought of fighting off Society assassins reason enough to smile. Perhaps it would even inspire another epic, his heroic escape from the clutches of the corrupt Society, a harrowing journey across the inhospitable Northern Province, without all the appalling opera singing.
Then again, since he would not be alive to suffer through it, it hardly mattered.
Chapter Meme
Bonus Meme
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Chapter 105
Sitting nervously atop Shana's back, Adujan made her way to the Iron Banner's compound, praying to the Mother that they were staying in the same manor as before. Without any other clue as to their whereabouts, it would raise suspicions if she were to ask for directions and Teacher Du had been adamant she remained unnoticed. He even ordered her to enter through a different gate, having concocted some sort of plan to deal with the Society without sharing any details on the matter. Even the Divine Blacksmith was without knowledge, camped out in the mountains to delay his arrival, more cloak and dagger nonsense that Adujan did not understand.
The odour of burnt flesh and wood-smoke permeated the air, the wind changing often and bringing a fetid stench to her nostrils, the rancid stink of death and decay. Soldiers and civilians alike filled the streets, each person moving with distinct purpose, the ever-present threat of attack hanging over one and all. She had seen the Defiled army while traversing the mountains to reach the western gate, an endless horde of unclean warriors milling about just outside of bow-range, seeming wild and ferocious even from a great distance. Just the memory of the sight was enough to send a chill down her spine, her eyes able to pick out the hulking forms of a number of Demons.
The scars of battle were clear to see, wounded soldiers put to use as coolies and messengers, battle-scarred armor and weapons close to hand. The two walls of the Bridge were all that held back the swarm of Demons and Defiled, and every person here was willing to lay down their lives in defense of the Empire, heroes one and all. If the Defiled were not stopped here, the Province would fall with little resistance, no city able to withstand that massive torrent of warriors. Not even the massive walls of the Society Headquarters would be able to hold, giving the Defiled clear access to the heart of the Empire, a disastrous result that would see hundreds of millions dead and worse.
Dismissing her memories of the tiny, burnt out village, she glanced back at her shadow, Kyung, impassive as always. She wondered if it was a natural or learned trait, his stony features a rugged mirror of Li Song's neutral expression. Riding atop of Zabu, the fussy quin seemed none too happy at the constant change of riders, his body language clearly displaying anxiety, ready to lunge at anyone who approached him. Clicking her tongue for his attention, she tossed him a piece of dried fruit and smiled as he ran beside her to feed Shana. Fondly patting his furry head, he squeaked in delight and begged for more treats, which she happily obliged. With the eighth month almost halfway finished, Shana would be ready to lay her eggs within a handful of weeks, the sweet quin fatter than ever as her body prepared for the arduous task ahead. Hopefully, they will have returned to Teacher Du's home by then, else it would be difficult to ensure the eggs were well protected on their journey.
A few missed turns and panicked moments later, she stood in front of the Iron Banner's lodgings, nervously knocking on the door while Kyung stood back with the quins. The door opened to a somewhat familiar face, the same attendant she had met on her first visit five months ago, a good sign. Hello, I've a message for Capta err... Major Baatar of the Iron Banner. Or maybe he'd been promoted again, who knew. She had little interaction with the valiant hero, her entire journey with the Banner spent tongue-tied and skittish, unsure how to act around them.
After stabling Zabu and Shana, she followed the attendant with Kyung in tow, entering the common room of the manor where the members of the Banner sat together, mingling and resting until their next shift. Sitting by the fire was Tenjin, his multitude of daggers decorating his body, each one a Spiritual Weapon, while reading in the corner was Tursinai, idly twirling her sickle through her fingers. More Bannermen were strewn about the room in ones and twos, overwhelming her with excitement at seeing her heroes once again.
While she gawked about the room in awe, a polite cough grasped her attention and she turned to face Major Baatar himself. The Bloody Fang strapped to his waist, his pole-axe, the Crescent Moon, leaning against the wall, the hero of the People sat at a table, eating his meal and staring her down as if she were prey for his cooking pots. You've a message for me?
Cursing herself for being an idiot, she fumbled for the sealed message in her pouch while nodding repeatedly, her shaking fingers having trouble grasping the wooden case. Holding it out respectfully in both hands, she half-bowed as she presented the message, wishing her body would stop shivering. After reading the message, the Major spoke again. You are Adujan? She responded with more frantic nodding, unable to speak.
Before she could even register a movement, a loud thud sounded from behind her, and the Bloody Fang rested against her neck. Glancing down, she saw Kyung prone on the ground, Gerel pinning him down with ease, despite only having a single arm. Clever of you to do your research, Adujan is indeed the student of Du Min Gyu, but you made a simple mistake. Baatar leaned forward, the promise of violence displayed in his blue eyes and wolfish smile. Adujan is a boy. You will tell me who your employers are and how you came about your information.
Tch, take yer sword away from the girl ye mule-headed, dim-witted twit. A meaty hand shoved the Major away and Adujan was encompassed in Ghurda's warm embrace. Ah little child, look at you, not even half a year and you've blossomed into a lovely lady, how wonderful. You look better now, more plump and no longer slouching, although your pant's do seem a bit too tight to be proper. Adujan's cheeks burned with her embarrassment, her awe of Baatar dropping several measures as she hid inside Ghurda's arms. How could her hero be as dense as Rain?
Roars of laughter accompanied them as Ghurda ushered them to a private room, and Adujan sipped her tea slowly, sitting across from the Major, a hangdog look upon his face. With an embarrassed cough, he began their conversation once again. I apologize for my mistake and for assaulting your companion. Clearing his throat, he seemed to regain his poise as he continued. Nonetheless, since I am sure my Mentor has failed to mention it, we celebrated the news that you have found a Teacher for yourself, and wish you all the best in your endeavors. She has a weakness when it comes to social graces. A stern look crossed his face as he leaned forward, and Adujan steeled herself to keep from shying away. Remember, you are a Sentinel and one of the People, now and always. Should you ever need help, make your way back to us or send word, and the Sentinels or the Iron Banner will ride to your aid.
Gratified by his words, she mumbled an incoherent reply into her teacup, hiding her tears. She had worried that her decision to leave had displeased the Chief Provost, only receiving a curt dismissal, but Baatar was not one for empty promises. Patting her back, Ghurda comforted her, speaking softly. Ah, there there little Adujan, no need to be sad, it will be some time yet before yer departure and yer Teacher wants you to stay with us. That means for a few days, you'll be riding with the Banner eh? Smiling mischievously, she continued. Tell me about yer companion, he's a handsome lad, isn't he? Would he be the reason for your transformation? Ye can always tell when a maiden's in love. Ghurda continued without allowing Adujan to speak, pinching her cheeks lightly. Almost makes me want to weep, I'd hoped to bring you into my family as little Huu's wife, yer that shy boy's only female friend. What am I to do with him now?
Sputtering on her tea, Adujan choked on her laughter, and coughed out, Oh you won't need to worry about Huu, he's quite the ladies ma... As soon as she uttered the words, her eyes widened in horror, her hand clamping her mouth shut.
Oh Fuck.
Carrying a double-edged long sword, Fung looked far more confident, charging forward without hesitation. Darting Fang into Slithering Pursuit, countered by his opponent with Gliding Wing, their first exchange was once again in his favour, but this time it was not wasted. Pressing his advantage, Fung's sword smashed aside Zian's sabres, forcing the older boy backwards. Sticking close, he continued his assault with measured cuts and thrusts, keeping his opponent off-balance. With a change of pace, his sword drew back, surprising Zian for a single heartbeat, his blades moving in the wrong direction to parry, and a powerful thrust from Fung pinked Zian's shoulder as he stepped aside, the fury on the older boy's face ugly to behold. First blood to Fung, but Min Gyu kept silent, allowing the match to continue.
An impressive display from Fung, but in the end, his opponent was more experienced, the five years age difference too steep for him to surpass. A flurry of attacks from Zian's sabres bought him room to recover, Fung unable to stop two swords with one, a series of light cuts showing through his expensive robes. Gamely fighting on, Fung blocked strike after strike, their weapons clashing in a concert of steel, frustration mounting on Zian's face as he struggled to end the fight in a suitably impressive manner, the girlish idiot not taking Min Gyu's words to heart.
After twelve more frantic exchanges, a lull in the match saw both participants heaving as they regained their breath, their weapons held at the ready, neither one willing to show weakness as they stood across from one another, and Min Gyu fought to keep from yawning. The match should have ended long ago if not for Zian's obsession with winning cleanly, Fung gamely holding on with scant hope of winning. The difference in skill was simply too large.
Enough of this. His handsome face twisted in anger, Zian had apparently had enough. Foolish child, you think you can match me? Let me show you the true difference between us. Rolling his eyes, Min Gyu sat back with a sigh, shaking his head slightly while he inwardly delighted at Yang's dismal look. Idiotic to chat in the midst of a match, but it was a sin many youngsters committed. Better to save your breath for fighting, but pompous children so loved to hear the sound of their own voices. That was the worst part of his epic, the Battle at KunLun. The playwrights had depicted him as a singing warrior, exchanging verbal quips with the Butcher in the form of opera songs while they gently tapped weapons, utter foolishness. Were it up to him, he would have all involved strung up and tortured for degrading his last battle, but the nobility and citizenry had loved it, the idiots that they were.
A wave of power disturbed his imaginings of screaming writers and crying actors, and he focused his attentions once more on the match before him. Not good, Yang seemed to have noticed his distraction, peering oddly at him. Was this what it was like to go Senile? His eyes narrowed as he studied Zian, the ripples of chi surging out from him in a crude manner. Hmm, 24 and able to condense an aura, passable, but his control was lacking.
The bare minimum requirement for facing a demon, condensing one's aura was a feat beyond most warriors, not something easily taught. Tied directly to emotion, it required a build up and release of it through the surrounding chi, a defense against the vile corruption that followed Demons about, tainting the very air around them, bringing lesser men to their knees. Zian was attempting the same thing, but without being able to direct his aura, it was largely a wasted effort.
Moving stiffly, Fung put up a valiant effort as he struggled against his opponents aura, but with his primal instincts fighting him, screaming at him to flee, it was all but finished. With a fanciful two-sword flourish, Zian disarmed Fung and slapped him across the face with the flat of his blade, before returning his weapons to their sheaths in a display meant to impress, Fung's sword still clattering as it slid across the floor. Arrogant but skilled, prideful and careless, too headstrong and easily pleased. 7 points out of ten, failure.
You may leave now. Sitting back into his chair, he organized his thoughts for the coming trial, rethinking his plans with this new information in hand. Were Zian paired against his student, she would have a 75% chance of killing him if she struck viciously as soon as the match began, but should that gambit fail, his student would be left without her spiritual weapon and facing an opponent beyond her skills. What to do now? Three matches and he could guarantee victory in one, but with five separate trials, Kyung could at most find victory twice, and that was being optimistic. Perhaps he could smuggle away with his student, leaving Kyung behind to fulfill his obligations, but that line of thought sat poorly with him, the coward's way out.
...Hero Du? Interrupting his musings, Yang stood before him, with none of the empty flattery he had entered the room with, anger clear in his tone. You are rejecting my nephew?
Time to insult them overtly, perhaps planting a seed of doubt in Zian and inciting rage in Yang. I see deafness runs in the family. Your nephew is unable to follow the most basic of instructions and too weak for me to overlook his glaring flaws. Inferior in all aspects to Fung except in age, he is not worth the effort to teach. Leave or be removed, I care not either way. Waving them away, he froze as he spied his trembling hand, quickly concealing it away in his sleeve, but it was too late, seen by both uncle and nephew.
Eyes narrowed, Yang retorted, Come Zian, you don't need a feeble old man to teach you how to fight. The stories of his past glories blinded me, unable to see the simple truth, shivering before me. As he marched out, he added, I pray you have a safe journey home, the North is full of dangers for an aged gentleman such as yourself.
Damn, a moment's carelessness had ruined his plan, no longer able to use his support for the Bekhai to cause a panic among the Society factions. Before the night fell, news of his weakness would spread far and wide, urged on by Yang until every soldier and citizen at the Bridge knew of Du Min Gyu's ailing health. Sighing deeply, he sank into his seat and closed his eyes, once again cursing his old age. Well, at the very least, he could now die in combat once again, Yang's poorly veiled threat instilling some hope in him, the thought of fighting off Society assassins reason enough to smile. Perhaps it would even inspire another epic, his heroic escape from the clutches of the corrupt Society, a harrowing journey across the inhospitable Northern Province, without all the appalling opera singing.
Then again, since he would not be alive to suffer through it, it hardly mattered.
Chapter Meme
Bonus Meme
Chapter 105Sitting nervously atop Shana's back, Adujan made her way to the Iron Banner's compound, praying to the Mother that they were staying in the same manor as before. Without any other clue as to their whereabouts, it would raise suspicions if she were to ask for directions and Teacher Du had been adamant she remained unnoticed. He even ordered her to enter through a different gate, having concocted some sort of plan to deal with the Society without sharing any details on the matter. Even the Divine Blacksmith was without knowledge, camped out in the mountains to delay his arrival, more cloak and dagger nonsense that Adujan did not understand.The odour of burnt flesh and wood-smoke permeated the air, the wind changing often and bringing a fetid stench to her nostrils, the rancid stink of death and decay. Soldiers and civilians alike filled the streets, each person moving with distinct purpose, the ever-present threat of attack hanging over one and all. She had seen the Defiled army while traversing the mountains to reach the western gate, an endless horde of unclean warriors milling about just outside of bow-range, seeming wild and ferocious even from a great distance. Just the memory of the sight was enough to send a chill down her spine, her eyes able to pick out the hulking forms of a number of Demons.The scars of battle were clear to see, wounded soldiers put to use as coolies and messengers, battle-scarred armor and weapons close to hand. The two walls of the Bridge were all that held back the swarm of Demons and Defiled, and every person here was willing to lay down their lives in defense of the Empire, heroes one and all. If the Defiled were not stopped here, the Province would fall with little resistance, no city able to withstand that massive torrent of warriors. Not even the massive walls of the Society Headquarters would be able to hold, giving the Defiled clear access to the heart of the Empire, a disastrous result that would see hundreds of millions dead and worse.Dismissing her memories of the tiny, burnt out village, she glanced back at her shadow, Kyung, impassive as always. She wondered if it was a natural or learned trait, his stony features a rugged mirror of Li Song's neutral expression. Riding atop of Zabu, the fussy quin seemed none too happy at the constant change of riders, his body language clearly displaying anxiety, ready to lunge at anyone who approached him. Clicking her tongue for his attention, she tossed him a piece of dried fruit and smiled as he ran beside her to feed Shana. Fondly patting his furry head, he squeaked in delight and begged for more treats, which she happily obliged. With the eighth month almost halfway finished, Shana would be ready to lay her eggs within a handful of weeks, the sweet quin fatter than ever as her body prepared for the arduous task ahead. Hopefully, they will have returned to Teacher Du's home by then, else it would be difficult to ensure the eggs were well protected on their journey.A few missed turns and panicked moments later, she stood in front of the Iron Banner's lodgings, nervously knocking on the door while Kyung stood back with the quins. The door opened to a somewhat familiar face, the same attendant she had met on her first visit five months ago, a good sign. Hello, I've a message for Capta err... Major Baatar of the Iron Banner. Or maybe he'd been promoted again, who knew. She had little interaction with the valiant hero, her entire journey with the Banner spent tongue-tied and skittish, unsure how to act around them.After stabling Zabu and Shana, she followed the attendant with Kyung in tow, entering the common room of the manor where the members of the Banner sat together, mingling and resting until their next shift. Sitting by the fire was Tenjin, his multitude of daggers decorating his body, each one a Spiritual Weapon, while reading in the corner was Tursinai, idly twirling her sickle through her fingers. More Bannermen were strewn about the room in ones and twos, overwhelming her with excitement at seeing her heroes once again.While she gawked about the room in awe, a polite cough grasped her attention and she turned to face Major Baatar himself. The Bloody Fang strapped to his waist, his pole-axe, the Crescent Moon, leaning against the wall, the hero of the People sat at a table, eating his meal and staring her down as if she were prey for his cooking pots. You've a message for me?Cursing herself for being an idiot, she fumbled for the sealed message in her pouch while nodding repeatedly, her shaking fingers having trouble grasping the wooden case. Holding it out respectfully in both hands, she half-bowed as she presented the message, wishing her body would stop shivering. After reading the message, the Major spoke again. You are Adujan? She responded with more frantic nodding, unable to speak.Before she could even register a movement, a loud thud sounded from behind her, and the Bloody Fang rested against her neck. Glancing down, she saw Kyung prone on the ground, Gerel pinning him down with ease, despite only having a single arm. Clever of you to do your research, Adujan is indeed the student of Du Min Gyu, but you made a simple mistake. Baatar leaned forward, the promise of violence displayed in his blue eyes and wolfish smile. Adujan is a boy. You will tell me who your employers are and how you came about your information.Tch, take yer sword away from the girl ye mule-headed, dim-witted twit. A meaty hand shoved the Major away and Adujan was encompassed in Ghurda's warm embrace. Ah little child, look at you, not even half a year and you've blossomed into a lovely lady, how wonderful. You look better now, more plump and no longer slouching, although your pant's do seem a bit too tight to be proper. Adujan's cheeks burned with her embarrassment, her awe of Baatar dropping several measures as she hid inside Ghurda's arms. How could her hero be as dense as Rain?Roars of laughter accompanied them as Ghurda ushered them to a private room, and Adujan sipped her tea slowly, sitting across from the Major, a hangdog look upon his face. With an embarrassed cough, he began their conversation once again. I apologize for my mistake and for assaulting your companion. Clearing his throat, he seemed to regain his poise as he continued. Nonetheless, since I am sure my Mentor has failed to mention it, we celebrated the news that you have found a Teacher for yourself, and wish you all the best in your endeavors. She has a weakness when it comes to social graces. A stern look crossed his face as he leaned forward, and Adujan steeled herself to keep from shying away. Remember, you are a Sentinel and one of the People, now and always. Should you ever need help, make your way back to us or send word, and the Sentinels or the Iron Banner will ride to your aid.Gratified by his words, she mumbled an incoherent reply into her teacup, hiding her tears. She had worried that her decision to leave had displeased the Chief Provost, only receiving a curt dismissal, but Baatar was not one for empty promises. Patting her back, Ghurda comforted her, speaking softly. Ah, there there little Adujan, no need to be sad, it will be some time yet before yer departure and yer Teacher wants you to stay with us. That means for a few days, you'll be riding with the Banner eh? Smiling mischievously, she continued. Tell me about yer companion, he's a handsome lad, isn't he? Would he be the reason for your transformation? Ye can always tell when a maiden's in love. Ghurda continued without allowing Adujan to speak, pinching her cheeks lightly. Almost makes me want to weep, I'd hoped to bring you into my family as little Huu's wife, yer that shy boy's only female friend. What am I to do with him now?Sputtering on her tea, Adujan choked on her laughter, and coughed out, Oh you won't need to worry about Huu, he's quite the ladies ma... As soon as she uttered the words, her eyes widened in horror, her hand clamping her mouth shut.Oh Fuck.Carrying a double-edged long sword, Fung looked far more confident, charging forward without hesitation. Darting Fang into Slithering Pursuit, countered by his opponent with Gliding Wing, their first exchange was once again in his favour, but this time it was not wasted. Pressing his advantage, Fung's sword smashed aside Zian's sabres, forcing the older boy backwards. Sticking close, he continued his assault with measured cuts and thrusts, keeping his opponent off-balance. With a change of pace, his sword drew back, surprising Zian for a single heartbeat, his blades moving in the wrong direction to parry, and a powerful thrust from Fung pinked Zian's shoulder as he stepped aside, the fury on the older boy's face ugly to behold. First blood to Fung, but Min Gyu kept silent, allowing the match to continue.An impressive display from Fung, but in the end, his opponent was more experienced, the five years age difference too steep for him to surpass. A flurry of attacks from Zian's sabres bought him room to recover, Fung unable to stop two swords with one, a series of light cuts showing through his expensive robes. Gamely fighting on, Fung blocked strike after strike, their weapons clashing in a concert of steel, frustration mounting on Zian's face as he struggled to end the fight in a suitably impressive manner, the girlish idiot not taking Min Gyu's words to heart.After twelve more frantic exchanges, a lull in the match saw both participants heaving as they regained their breath, their weapons held at the ready, neither one willing to show weakness as they stood across from one another, and Min Gyu fought to keep from yawning. The match should have ended long ago if not for Zian's obsession with winning cleanly, Fung gamely holding on with scant hope of winning. The difference in skill was simply too large.Enough of this. His handsome face twisted in anger, Zian had apparently had enough. Foolish child, you think you can match me? Let me show you the true difference between us. Rolling his eyes, Min Gyu sat back with a sigh, shaking his head slightly while he inwardly delighted at Yang's dismal look. Idiotic to chat in the midst of a match, but it was a sin many youngsters committed. Better to save your breath for fighting, but pompous children so loved to hear the sound of their own voices. That was the worst part of his epic, the Battle at KunLun. The playwrights had depicted him as a singing warrior, exchanging verbal quips with the Butcher in the form of opera songs while they gently tapped weapons, utter foolishness. Were it up to him, he would have all involved strung up and tortured for degrading his last battle, but the nobility and citizenry had loved it, the idiots that they were.A wave of power disturbed his imaginings of screaming writers and crying actors, and he focused his attentions once more on the match before him. Not good, Yang seemed to have noticed his distraction, peering oddly at him. Was this what it was like to go Senile? His eyes narrowed as he studied Zian, the ripples of chi surging out from him in a crude manner. Hmm, 24 and able to condense an aura, passable, but his control was lacking.The bare minimum requirement for facing a demon, condensing one's aura was a feat beyond most warriors, not something easily taught. Tied directly to emotion, it required a build up and release of it through the surrounding chi, a defense against the vile corruption that followed Demons about, tainting the very air around them, bringing lesser men to their knees. Zian was attempting the same thing, but without being able to direct his aura, it was largely a wasted effort.Moving stiffly, Fung put up a valiant effort as he struggled against his opponents aura, but with his primal instincts fighting him, screaming at him to flee, it was all but finished. With a fanciful two-sword flourish, Zian disarmed Fung and slapped him across the face with the flat of his blade, before returning his weapons to their sheaths in a display meant to impress, Fung's sword still clattering as it slid across the floor. Arrogant but skilled, prideful and careless, too headstrong and easily pleased. 7 points out of ten, failure.You may leave now. Sitting back into his chair, he organized his thoughts for the coming trial, rethinking his plans with this new information in hand. Were Zian paired against his student, she would have a 75% chance of killing him if she struck viciously as soon as the match began, but should that gambit fail, his student would be left without her spiritual weapon and facing an opponent beyond her skills. What to do now? Three matches and he could guarantee victory in one, but with five separate trials, Kyung could at most find victory twice, and that was being optimistic. Perhaps he could smuggle away with his student, leaving Kyung behind to fulfill his obligations, but that line of thought sat poorly with him, the coward's way out....Hero Du? Interrupting his musings, Yang stood before him, with none of the empty flattery he had entered the room with, anger clear in his tone. You are rejecting my nephew?Time to insult them overtly, perhaps planting a seed of doubt in Zian and inciting rage in Yang. I see deafness runs in the family. Your nephew is unable to follow the most basic of instructions and too weak for me to overlook his glaring flaws. Inferior in all aspects to Fung except in age, he is not worth the effort to teach. Leave or be removed, I care not either way. Waving them away, he froze as he spied his trembling hand, quickly concealing it away in his sleeve, but it was too late, seen by both uncle and nephew.Eyes narrowed, Yang retorted, Come Zian, you don't need a feeble old man to teach you how to fight. The stories of his past glories blinded me, unable to see the simple truth, shivering before me. As he marched out, he added, I pray you have a safe journey home, the North is full of dangers for an aged gentleman such as yourself.Damn, a moment's carelessness had ruined his plan, no longer able to use his support for the Bekhai to cause a panic among the Society factions. Before the night fell, news of his weakness would spread far and wide, urged on by Yang until every soldier and citizen at the Bridge knew of Du Min Gyu's ailing health. Sighing deeply, he sank into his seat and closed his eyes, once again cursing his old age. Well, at the very least, he could now die in combat once again, Yang's poorly veiled threat instilling some hope in him, the thought of fighting off Society assassins reason enough to smile. Perhaps it would even inspire another epic, his heroic escape from the clutches of the corrupt Society, a harrowing journey across the inhospitable Northern Province, without all the appalling opera singing.Then again, since he would not be alive to suffer through it, it hardly mattered.Chapter MemeBonus Meme
