Savage Divinity

Back straight and head high, Du Min Gyu flicked his sleeves and placed his hands behind his back as he offered the guards a chance to live. “Lay down your weapons,” he commanded, while Jun Bao held his Imperial Token of Authority high. “I, Lieutenant General Du Min Gyu, am here to carry out the Emperor’s will, to inspect this property and everything within it. Stand aside or be held in contempt of Imperial Edict, for which the sentence is death.”

From behind their sturdy stone barricades, the heavily-armed guards stared back in silent defiance. Studying their expressions, Min Gyu found no grim determination or fanatic opposition, but fear and dissatisfaction a plenty. Slaves then, Oath-sworn and compelled to defend the base against all intruders regardless of identity. Willful rebellion against Imperial Authority or a simple lapse in judgment by the person who gave their orders? Considering the objective for this mission, likely the former, but after his near disastrous exchange with Akanai, he was loathe to rush to conclusions.

What a fool he’d been, assaulting a commanding general during wartime with a Justicar waiting nearby. A Justicar he’d brought with him no less. Were it not for her benevolence, Akanai could have had Du Min Gyu executed forthwith, though some solace could be found as he would have died in ignorance of how ungrateful his family truly was...

Putting aside past regrets, he waited for a response from the Canston Guards and prayed their master would hear his words and yield. He abhorred this waste of competent warriors, of both Death Corps and Canston Guards alike. In battle, oftentimes the difference between victory and defeat lay not in a single individual’s strength, but in how well each individual works with the warrior beside them. Take a hundred unaffiliated Captain-level talents and pit them against a commander with his retinue of ninety-nine basic soldiers who trained together, and Min Gyu would put his money on the retinue every time.

Well-trained and well-equipped, the Canston Guards were a disciplined, orderly force, armoured in heavy plate while brandishing fierce polearms and no small number of Spiritual Weapons. Although he had yet to come across any warriors of overwhelming talent, he was impressed by their teamwork, organization, and speedy response to the attack. After his initial assault showed them how outclassed they were, a small rear guard remained in place to slow his advance while their main force fell back in orderly fashion, concentrating their soldiers at the fortified positions around the central buildings. Given Siyar’s shockingly detailed map, Min Gyu had foreseen this as a possibility and even allowed it to happen since it made things easier for him, but the speed and efficiency with which the Canston Guards carried out their retreat was most impressive.

Even more impressive was how he heard no horns sounded or orders Spoken after his forces breached the gate. The Canston Guards had practised and prepared for this eventuality, and each guard knew precisely what to do and where to go without direction. Even allowing for their Oath-sworn status, it took considerable dedication and training to reach this level of competence, which made Min Gyu reluctant to slaughter them out of hand. Scanning the crowd, he hoped to find whoever held the leash of these fine soldiers and force them to cede control with minimal casualties, but sadly, whoever it was had hidden himself well.

A damn shame to lose so many fine soldiers, especially since Yan needed soldiers for her retinue, but needs must. Impressive though the Canston Guards might be, they were no match for the cold fury of Imperial Death Corps, nor were their numbers sufficient to make up for the difference in strength. Still, something was off, and even as he prepared to order the final charge, Min Gyu surveyed his surroundings one last time. Thankful he did, he discovered what unsettled him so as gazed at the cloth-covered ground. “Strange, too strange.”

Lips pursed in a frown, Jun Bao picked up on his meaning almost immediately. “How long do you suppose we took to get here? A half-hour, if that?”

Nodding in agreement, Min Gyu replied, “Hardly enough time for... this.” Around them, ragged tents fluttered in the wind while others lay crumpled in the dirt, trampled underfoot by the Death Corps as they moved to encircle the Canston Guards. Aside from the tents, there was nothing else. No bedding or blankets, no discarded clothes or lost shoes, neither hair nor hide of the worker slaves to be found. For trained guards to move so quickly and efficiently was one thing, but to remove almost all evidence of an enslaved workforce without sound or struggle in so short a time? Impossible.

Directing his gaze at the two borrowed scouts, Min Gyu asked, “You said you were here less than a week ago. You’re certain there were thousands of slaves here?”

“Yes sir,” Siyar responded, while his superior officer, Jorani, stood silent, nervously fiddling with the weapon hidden in his sleeve. A small mace or thin dagger of some sort perhaps, but the movements revealed his cowardice. “Sure as sure. Eight days give or take a few hours. Saw em with these two eyes, Mother’s truth. A right sorry lot, whole crowd of battered and bruised souls all huddled up around these here tents.”

Most concerning. “By your own account, you arrived under the cover of darkness. Could you have been mistaken regarding the numbers?”

“Mayhaps,” Siyar responded with a shrug. “But not by much. Last I was here, I had to pick my way real careful around em, strewn across the dirt and whatnot. More slaves than tents to cover em, and as you can see, they had plenty of tents.”

“What about the central buildings?”

“Only checked the one, but twas packed to the rafters with boxes. Nicked a pair of vessels from an open one, then buggered off right quick.” Spitting to the side, Siyar’s globule of phlegm narrowly missed the boot of a Death Corps soldier, and the scout held his hand up in apology, though the Death Corps soldier appeared indifferent to it all. “Whole places puts me on edge,” he added, barely repressing a shudder. “Unclean is what it is, feel it in my bones I do.”

Hmm. Even if the other three buildings had been empty to begin with, they couldn’t possibly fit so many people. This begged the question, where had all the slaves gone? Thinking to share his concerns with the other two experts under his command, he reached out to them through Sending, as they were off overseeing the Death Corps’ encirclement. He started with Pichai, a dark-skinned southerner most famous for surviving the destruction of his first Spiritual Weapon at the tender age of twenty-four. Rare for a Warrior to outlive his Weapon, but despite his leaking core and crippled Spiritual self, Pichai persevered along the Martial Path. Three decades later, the once formidable young talent re-emerged as an indomitable Expert, having relearned how to use his Chi and bound a second Spiritual Weapon, the same giant scimitar he’d used to open the gates. Now, at the ripe age of ninety-seven, the story of ‘Broken Blade Pichai’ was often told to young warriors across the Empire, a living example of what one could accomplish with hard work, dedication, and perseverance.

Pei. Broken tongue more like it. After hearing all of Min Gyu’s concerns, the tight-lipped southerner replied in his almost lyrical lilt, “Understood. No slaves spotted, only guards. Will inform commander if situation changes. End Sending.”

‘End Sending’, how pretentious. As if people wouldn’t know he’d finished speaking without confirmation. Besides, since when was it his prerogative to end their conversation, as if he were the superior and Min Gyu his underling? “Good, good,” he Sent, more out of spite than need. “Remember the mission and keep your guard up. Send word if artillery is spotted.”

“Orders received. End Sending.”

“Wait for my signal to attack and take prisoners wherever possible. Many questions will be best answered by the guards themselves after seizing their Emblem.”

“Orders received. End Sending.”

...What a hateful man. Most infuriating.

Giving up on the idiotic game, Min Gyu closed his eyes and turned his attentions to Eccentric Gam with a sigh. Calling him eccentric was an understatement, and even though there wasn’t much known about the ancient half-fox, Min Gyu would think twice before challenging him in open combat. Setting aside Gam’s hundreds of years of experience, the Blessing of Earth was frighteningly suited for warfare, endowing its recipient with prodigious strength and durability. Speed too, for contrary to popular belief, a slender, willowy build did not, in fact, make a warrior faster, as speed was merely a different application of strength. Any warrior with the Blessing of Earth was undoubtedly a force to be reckoned with, and the foremost Earth-Blessed Expert in the Empire was indisputably Eccentric Gam.

Hmph. No matter. Eccentric Gam held the advantage of age over Du Min Gyu, but after a few years under his tutelage, he was certain Du Min Yan would stand high above a piddling Wu Gam. Brutish little bastard, manhandling the girl like he did. If Min Gyu had been on that stage, he’d have slapped Wu Gam until his head swelled up like a pig’s. When Falling Rain knocked that little bastard back into the crowd, Min Gyu had forgotten himself and whooped with joy, though luckily the sound had been lost in the din.

Number one Talent in the Empire… The boy could have the title for now, until Du Min Yan came to claim it.

After Sending what he’d learned to Eccentric Gam, Min Gyu received no answer for long minutes, until finally, “...Found them. They’re underground.”

“Whe-”

“There’s a whole network of tunnels beneath our feet,” Eccentric Gam continued, speaking over Min Gyu’s Sending. “Twenty, twenty five meters down?”

“What-”

“Can’t rightly say what they’re doing down there.” The hateful demi-human both interrupted and answered Min Gyu’s next question. “Feel lots of people moving down there, thousands at least, but that’s about all I can tell. Those feet could be coming or going, could be dancing for all I know. Real shame I can’t ask the dirt to tell me what’s going on, yea? Oh, the stories they’d tell.”

Min Gyu was beginning to see the benefits to Pichai’s Sending etiquette. Once sure Gam was finished rambling, Min Gyu Sent, “Can you find the entrance?”

“Can you track a breeze? No I can’t find the entrance, you dodder...” Gam’s Sending trailed off into silence. Just as Min Gyu was about to respond, the Eccentric spoke once more. “I could collapse the whole thing if you like, easy as turning-”

“Stay your hand! Those people down there could have the answers we seek. Continue encircling the guards and await further instructions.” Massaging his temples at Gam’s rant over being ordered around by a ‘child’, Min Gyu Sent, “End Sending”, and closed himself off from the noisy eccentric. If he had information to pass on, he could Send it to Jun Bao. “We have a problem. Tunnels beneath us. Possibly an escape route.”

“Or set-up for an ambush,” Jun Bao replied, completing Min Gyu’s thoughts.

“Indeed. Take it slow?”

“The young master placed you in charge for a reason.” With a self-deprecating smile, he added, “They don’t call me the ‘Solitary Sword’ for nothing.”

“Only due to lack of interest, not ability.” Reflecting on the many duels of their youth, Min Gyu continued, “You were a right devious bastard at times, always striking my weaknesses.”

“An accomplishment which might seem impressive if you didn’t have so many.”

Between verbal exchanges, Min Gyu ordered his people to widen the perimeter and search the fort for hidden tunnel entrances. Though his quarry might escape from underfoot, Min Gyu had no choice but to exercise caution, especially considering the nature of his mission. He’d been tasked by the Legate himself to find evidence of collusion between the Canston Trading Group and the Enemy, and more specifically to seize control of a substance capable of rendering stone to dust and flesh to nothingness with only the light of day. As the sun had yet to set, if he were to charge in or allow his enemy to tunnel behind him, a deadly rain of caustic fluids over him and his troops would spell a most disastrous end to his decades-long military career and century-long life.

He wasn’t fooled by Jun Bao’s friendly banter or flattery. Min Gyu knew he’d been chosen for one simple reason: he was disposable. Why else forbid him from bringing his own troops and saddle him with Eccentric Gam and Broken Blade Pichai, two relics of the past not unlike himself? If they failed or Falling Rain’s accusations proved false, he had no doubts Jun Bao would execute all three of them and the Legate would spin a story about three aged drunks getting into a dispute with a local winery or some other such nonsense.

Displeasing as the truth might be, Min Gyu understood the Legate’s need for discretion. Though only a piddling merchant company, even children knew the Canston Trading Group was backed by the Immortal Zhu Chanzui, an Ancestral Pig of foul temper and prodigious greed. Anger him and his vengeance would be terrible to behold, and the battle against the Imperial Dharma Protector sent to stop him could turn Nan Ping into a second Arid Wastelands, the impassable stretch of desert straddling the border between South, West, and Central, said to have been formed by a decade long battle between Divinities.

All drivel of course. The desert bordered both ocean and Azure Sea, where the cold currents made it all but impossible for the air to hold moisture, giving rise to the desiccated wastelands. Cause and effect, a simple explanation as any. At most, Nan Ping would be burned to the ground and be decades in recovering. Even Ancestral Beasts weren’t powerful enough to do something as drastic as altering the climate and landscape.

Or so he hoped.

While he mused over the consequences of failure, the Death Corps searched the fort and uncovered no hidden tunnels or waiting ambushes. This, combined with the setting sun, emboldened Min Gyu into ordering the attack, a little disappointed he wouldn’t have the opportunity to use any of the countermeasures he’d come up with during the ride here. After stressing the need for prisoners to his colleagues, he led the charge himself, leaping over the barricade with a single bound. A powerful burst of wind erupted from his palms, impacting harmlessly on the steel breastplates of two nearby assailants. Though the attack did no direct damage, it sent both luckless targets hurtling away to crash into their comrades, clearing the area and allowing the Death Corps to tear down the barricade and stream in unopposed.

Ah, it felt good to finally stretch his muscles again, both physical and spiritual ones. When was the last time he faced a true challenge at the peak of health?

The Canston Guards put up a staunch defense, but well-trained as they were, they proved no match for the Death Corps and were quickly overwhelmed. Guard corpses littered the ground while even more were taken prisoner, pummeled unconscious with closed fist and heavy boot as it was the only way to subdue them. Clearly, they’d been ordered to fight to the bitter end, lashing out with tooth and nail when no other options were left to them, determined to find death on the point of a Death Corps blade.

The fighting continued for long, grueling minutes as the last pockets of resistance held out, and after judging they had enough prisoners, Min Gyu gave the order to end things. Not ten seconds later, the battle ended, a lop-sided engagement from start to finish. Giving the order to clear the battlefield and secure the area, he brought Jun Bao, Siyar, and Jorani to check the warehouse, only to find it empty save for a few broken boxes. The other three buildings were the same, and to make matters worse, they found no tunnel entrances either, collapsed, covered, or otherwise.

“How can this be,” he asked, speaking to no one in particular. “Where did they go?” Furrowing his brow, he sought Gam in person and grabbed the scruffy half-fox by the arm. “Are you certain there were people escaping from tunnels beneath us?”

Covered from head to toe in the blood of his enemies, the odd warrior tilted his head in an almost innocent gesture. “Never said ‘escaping’, and no were about it.” Dropping to all fours, he placed his human ear the to ground and closed his eyes, his fox ears flicking left and right as he listened. “Yep,” he exclaimed after a moment of silence. “Are. Is? Still plenty of boots trudging around right beneath us. Closer too. Ten meters away at most.”

Realization dawned on Min Gyu as he checked the surroundings. Their backs against the buildings and empty space all around, a tailor-made killing ground prepared just for them. “Form up,” he shouted, heading towards the gate where their wagons awaited. “Fall back to the wagons!”

But alas, his orders came a minute too late.

The earth erupted in a spray of dirt as three bald, misshapen creatures emerged from below. Arranged in a neat semi-circle around his troops, the wrinkled mole-like Demons roared in challenge as a steady stream of hostile warriors emerged from their tunnels. Though the buildings blocked line of sight, the cries of alarm told him there were still more Demons to contend with on the other side, his people neatly encircled by the Enemy’s devious trap. They’d known someone would come, how he did not know. Traitors in the Legate’s household, or perhaps someone noticed the two missing vessels Siyar stole. Whatever the reason, he’d led his people into an ambush, and seeing how well the Enemy prepared for this, he judged their chance to escape slim to none.

Well, at least he’d found proof of collusion.

A shame his end would come so soon. He would have liked to spend another decade with his doting granddaughter, but a year would have to be enough. “Warriors of the Empire, gather to me,” he commanded, his voice calmer than he’d expected. Their only chance was to punch through before the Enemy finished arranging their forces. The math was simple enough, three Demons, three experts. Turning to his old rival, he said, “Jun Bao, hang back and do not engage. The first chance you see, take to the skies and escape while we hold their attention. You must get word to the Legate. The Defiled wasted no time consolidating the West. They’re here, and they have allies amongst us.”

Conflicting emotions flashed across Jun Bao’s face, his warrior’s pride demanding he stay and fight, but in the end, he merely saluted and said, “By your command, General.”

Happy to have won the final exchange of their rivalry, Min Gyu turned to face the Demon, giving his orders out loud for all to hear while gathering the Divine Wind into a rotating, razor sharp disc. Slaves though they might be, even the Death Corps were mortal men, prone to despair as any, and in order to escape, they would need every advantage he could eke out. “Broken Blade Pichai, at my left, Eccentric Gam, to my right, and stalwart warriors of the Empire at my side. With such formidable forces gathered at my side, I, Du Min Gyu, have nothing to fear! Forward into the Enemy!”

Finally, a challenge worthy of the Sanguine Tempest, Du Min Gyu.

Chapter Meme