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Savage Divinity - Chapter 223

Published at 3rd of May 2024 06:05:27 AM


Chapter 223

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Chapter 223


Sitting atop his tired warhorse, Zian studied the Enemy while they moved into position. Pouring in from the south, an unwashed rabble of infantry formed loose ranks before Sanshus south-west gate. With each passing minute their line edged forward a step or two, predators and murderers showing their true colours for the first time. Working themselves into a frenzy, they milled about in a disorganized cluster, eager for battle and bloodshed. Dressed in dirty leathers and ragged clothes, most wielded improvised weapons made from farm tools, with pitchforks, flails, and scythes aplenty, giving off the appearance of an unruly peasant mob ready to scatter before a concentrated charge.

Appearances could be deceiving, a harsh lesson learned at the hands of Falling Rain. No mere peasant rebels, these were Defiled, every man, woman and child a traitor of the Empire. Living in the heart of the Northern Province, they were wolves hidden among sheep, biding their time and honing their skills in secret. Who knew what power lay hidden beneath their coarse exterior? Whether it be a garo-mounted tribesman savage or an unwashed peasant footman, the Defiled were not to be underestimated. Powered by the dark magics of the Father, any one was a possible Demon waiting to emerge.

In stark contrast to the peasant mob, the garo riders moved in locked formation, over a thousand riders in four, distinct squares, two on each flank. A standard hammer and anvil, the mob meant to absorb the initial charge while the garo riders swept in from both sides. Against an all-cavalry force like their own, it was a fairly standard defence. Though Zian had never faced the Defiled before, all the stories claimed they were little more than an uncontrolled horde of barbarian savages, unversed in the finer points of warfare. The formation before him argued otherwise.

An exercise, young master. At Zians side, Jukai took the tone of an instructor, gesturing at the Enemy army. If you were in command, what orders would you give?

These exercises were becoming a common occurrence of late, Jukai testing Zians knowledge in military tactics with theoretical examples, but hed yet to offer an answer which satisfied the former Colonel. Speculating out loud, Zian bought time before answering, determined to get it right. Though the composition of our force is far from ideal, the terrain is to our advantage. The surrounding area has been trampled flat by thousands of wagons moving in and out of Sanshu, meaning we are free to maneuver around their infantry as we please. Zian silently pondered the situation until Jukai coughed, politely urging him along. I would match the garo flankers with our own, keeping them occupied in battle. Then, I would send skirmishers to lure the undisciplined infantry into a charge. The skirmishers fall back and draw out the enemy line, after which we hit the scattered infantry with a concentrated charge.

Thereby playing directly to the Enemys strengths, Jukai concluded, which set Zians face afire, but there was no mockery in the older mans tone. So defensive in duelling but so aggressive a commander, how delightful. A suitable strategy were you in command of your own army and matched against a rebel force, but you command a mishmash of elite units from various cities against a Defiled army, young master. Your tactics require a level of trust and coordination which our patchwork army lacks.

Explain.

The demand earned him a small sigh, Jukai preferring to leave Zian to come to his own conclusions, but time was short. You know garo riders cannot be matched with even numbers of horsemen. Those armoured lizards excel at counter charging, using a powerful lunge to crash into the front lines, their scent panicking even the most well-trained mounts. As in most cavalry match ups, momentum is key, and the garos hold the advantage in this regard.

Yes, but the centre will crumble from our charge, Zian interjected, defending his decision. Which means even though we lose on the flanks, well have five thousand cavalry to deal with a thousand garo riders.

Rather than chiding him, Jukai nodded. The Defiled dont crumble, but youre right. Assuming the flankers die to the last man keeping the garos in place, theyll buy you enough time to defeat the Defiled infantry, but this brings us to the lack of trust and coordination I spoke of. You command elites from around the province, each one capable of displaying their Purity. These are people of influence or standing, their strength proven and future limitless. Theyll know youve set them on a suicidal task and they'll either break after the charge or fail to engage all the garo riders and leave your skirmishers vulnerable to attack. The Enemy has their riders in separate groups for this very reason. In addition, the Defiled are a cunning foe. Its highly possible their infantry will not take the bait and instead turn on your flankers, meaning youll have squandered a thousand cavalry for little gain. Were it Nian Zu and his soldiers, then he would succeed with your strategy, but you do not command the loyalty of these elites.

Maddening. Major Yuzhen said Jukai had an illustrious career, but none of his companions had ever heard his name and Zian's skin wasn't thick enough to admit he didn't bother looking into his own subordinates. Then how would you proceed?

This time, Jukai refused to answer. Consider our orders and the question I posed, and the answer will be clear.

Eyeing the enemy lines once more, Zian quietly thought things through. How to best attack the Defiled? Wheel the entire army to one side strike from the flank? Pull back and engage them in the woods? Charge in successive waves? No matter what stratagem or tactic he came up with, the same problem continued cropping up. Cavalry was a powerful tool, but limited in use without infantry or ranged support.

Wait. Consider the question. What orders would you give, not how would you attack. His troops were tired and exhausted, facing a foe eager and ready for battle. Delay, he answered, earning a smile from Jukai. If they attack, then they are forced to give up their advantage of the walls defences and to deal with ours. While we cannot deny the Enemy a path of retreat, it is not to our advantage to engage. Keeping this army at the gates is all we can do, but if the Defiled inside the city retreat, then we are in position to pin them inside, trapping the Enemy inside the tunnel with Sanshus defenders on the other side.

Indeed. You must also consider the grand scheme of things. Every hour which passes, brings our infantry closer and the evacuating citizens of Sanshu further from danger. Sanshus defenders are holding the Defiled to the south-west district, and now weve occupied these garo riders, a force which could wreak havoc among the evacuees or along the Xiang Mi river. Jukais eyes narrowed as he stroked his chin. Odd how theyve been so well-behaved, though fortuitous for the farmers and fisherfolk. Many of Yo Lings decisions are questionable at best, but at least the damage has been minimal. Shaking his head, Jukai shrugged and saluted. Well then young master, off we go.

Where to?

To delay the enemy of course. With a smile and a wink, Jukai rode into the Enemys range without a care in the world. After a moments pause, Zian rode after him, the rest of his retinue remaining behind at Jukais orders. Two men riding into the teeth of the enemy, Zian made certain he kept his back straight and head held high, hiding his apprehension and keeping his eyes on the massed catapults and crossbows sitting atop the gate.

Coughing, Zian reminded himself not to grow arrogant. Fame and glory were unimportant, personal strength all that mattered. Its why he intended to step away from Clan and Society, no longer wanting to be distracted by meaningless squabbles over wealth and political power. His goal was to reach the apex of the Martial Path, and after struggling against this nameless Defiled brute, he still had a long way to go.

Zians next opponent stepped out, a svelte, graceful young man, lips twisted in a mocking sneer as he sauntered forward with twin sickles in hand. Thanking the Mother it wasnt another hulking behemoth, Zian drew his sabers to meet his opponent. This was the perfect opportunity to train. Falling Rain won four duels in succession, so obviously, Zian needed to win at least five.

No, these were nameless Defiled while Rain defeated three top Society talents and an expensive slave. Better to win at least nine times or ten times.

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Much as Fung disliked the arrogant fop, he couldnt help but admire Zians tenacity and martial prowess. Six duels fought in succession, the first few against Defiled villagers, but the last two against garo mounted barbarians. Each duel ended in a close match, yet still Zian stood tall, waiting for his seventh opponent. Despite several near brushes with death, Fung knew Zian was holding back, only displaying a few Chi skills and Forms, his Aura still yet to be used. Brimming with envy, Fung dreamed of a time when he would be confident enough to fight the Defiled with a self-imposed handicap, pretending to struggle in order to buy time for the army to rest. Worst of all, Zian remained silent through it all, not bothering to name himself or even gloat a little, with zero displays of satisfaction after each hard-fought victory.

For some months now, Fung heard the whispers comparing him to Zian, implying how he followed in the other's footsteps. Both talented youths born in a Magistrates family, both notorious womanizers and drunks, and both victors in the Contest, they should have risen to equal fame, but far from it. In fact, many questioned why Tong Da Fung seem so lacking in comparison, despite walking down a similar path.

Fung detested his fellow young magistrate for more than this. Losing to Zian in front of Du Min Gyu would have been acceptable except the bastard had the gall to slap Fung across the face with the flat of his blade, a humiliating slight. Watching Rain defeat the arrogant prick brought him a measure of peace, but Fung still dreamed of one day challenging Zian to a duel and perhaps even returning the slap with one of his own.

After watching six duels and the start of a seventh with yet another northern savage, Fung worried the day would never come.

This is boring. Cheeks puffed and arms crossed, the adorable Mei Lin sat atop her quin, watching the duel with a frown. I thought we were going to fight, ya? When are we going into the city?

Keeping his voice down, Fung explained, Zian is buying time, giving our soldiers and horses time to rest after riding all day.

Comprehension dawned on her face as Lin smiled sheepishly, knocking herself lightly on the head. Ah. Okay. Sorry. Sighing loudly, she went back to waiting in silence for all of a single minute, before she asked, When is it your turn to fight?

Mei Lin was a perfect match for Rain, the two wholly unconcerned about face. There was nothing malicious about it, its merely who they were. Smiling, Fung merely shook his head. He didnt dare follow-up after Zian. Who knew what sort of monster the Enemy would send out? Ignoring Rustrams wordless plea to send her away to safety, Fung returned to watching Zians duels. Though the sweet girls demeanour often kindled a desire to protect her, he knew Mei Lin needed no protection from him.

Instead, he devoted all his efforts to finding a weakness in his rival, but to no avail. The only thing he noticed was Zians tendency to give up the initiative to fight defensively, studying his opponents in-depth before going for the kill. Not much of a weakness, Zians defences were top-notch, able to dodge, parry, or Deflect all but the most powerful of blows. How Rain defeated him was still a mystery to Fung, even though he witnessed the match with his own eyes.

After a long struggle, the seventh duel came to an end, Zian winning with a clean killing blow like always. The arrogant bastard wasn't even dirty, barely sparing a glance for his fallen foe before returning to stand next to his second. How long did he intend to continue? Almost thirty minutes had passed now, a single man standing before the Defiled army, boldly defying them time and time again. Though it pained him to see Zian earn more fame and glory, these thirty, hard-won minutes were crucial, allowing the Imperial Army to continue setting their defences and resting their mounts. Minutes ticked by in silence without an eighth challenger, and Zian merely stood and waited, unperturbed by the numerous catapults and crossbows pointed in his direction. If only the bastard werent such an unbearable prick, he would've made a splendid friend. With Huu and Rain both betrothed to wonderful women, Fung found himself lacking someone to drink and whore with.

A low, rumbling horn sounded out in the silence, a haunting note the Defiled used to signal battle, their commander unwilling to send another duellist to their death. As Zian rode back to his retinue, the Imperial Army cheered his return, his successive victories raising morale to its peak. Unable to stew in his envy, Fung readied himself for the battle. Though Zians accomplishments were impressive, his twin sabers were unsuited for massed warfare and his strength was spent. This was Fungs chance to display his skills with the spear, the king of all weapons.

Were fighting now, ya? Mei Lin asked, her eyes bright and eager. Nodding in reply, he was treated to a brilliant, toothy smile as she leaped to her feet, standing atop her quin with grace and aplomb. With bow in hand, she glanced at Fung for permission before picking a target, using her entire body to draw her bow and loose the arrow in one smooth motion. Without pausing to view her handiwork, she continued firing into the Enemy from well outside the range of their catapults, a consummate display of Bekhai archery. In less than a minute, Mei Lins kill count numbered in the double digits, forcing Fung to rethink his evaluation of weapons.

Perhaps he should ask Rain to teach him how to shoot. This seemed much more efficient than fighting successive duels.

Chapter Meme



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