Savage Divinity

Regardless of the outcome, tonight was a night history would remember for centuries to come.

It had all the markings of an epic tale, a grand clash between Good and Evil, in which noble heroes challenged seemingly insurmountable odds with naught but steel and courage. Tonight’s events were a narrative of the human struggle against trial and tribulation and would no doubt serve as inspiration for countless operas, dramas, poems, and musical compositions over the next decade or two, with each retelling embellishing facts until the final products were so far from the truth they might as well be works of fiction, but here Luo-Luo sat to witness it all firsthand.

Well... witness in the sense she was present, as the multiple walls and many soldiers blocked her from seeing the actual battle take place. Even then, a whimsical part of her mind still demanded she record her every thought for the sake of posterity. How grand it would be to publish an account of the past hour, much like young patriarch Han BoShui had done following the last major conflict in Sinuji, though hers would lack the impact of a warrior’s perspective. What she found most compelling was the aged Colonel General’s ineffective assault, a low point for all present mortals which displayed the vast and disheartening divide between Man and Divine. Yet even in ignoble defeat, Living Legend Nian Zu did not give in to despair and instead recited a poem to inspire and embolden, one so stirring Luo-Luo almost took up her weapon and joined the fray.

She didn’t, of course, not only because the mere prospect of bloodshed terrified her beyond compare, but also because the night’s tumultuous twists and turns had left her poor frail heart overworked and ready to give out. Man-made fiery conflagrations and Chi-raised pillars of earth to smother the flames, a surging wave of soil delivering the promise of death and the nebulous clouds of explosive smoke which thwarted it, this was all too much for a mere Imperial Servant to fathom. To think, Luo-Luo once dreamed of living a life like this, of travelling to see the untamed outer provinces where danger and excitement lurked hand in hand. Well, she’d found plenty of both here tonight, too much in fact, and now that she had a taste of what war was really like, she would give anything to go back to her dull, dreary life in the Academy, far, far away from all the Demonic monstrosities and Defiled Divinities.

Not to mention her faithless Lord Husband, who fell so deeply in love with the village girl who nursed him back to health that anyone with ears could hear it from the way he said her name. How many women was he planning on falling in love with and why couldn’t he find room for Luo-Luo in his spacious and accessible heart? Could it be because he was still haunted by Qing-Qing’s death? Perhaps Luo-Luo should take up her weapon and march onto the battlefield, if only to slaughter the hateful Emissary and put Qing-Qing’s ghost to rest, then Lord Husband could finally move on and accept Luo-Luo’s love and affection...

For the umpteenth time tonight, the world shook beneath Luo-Luo’s feet, but she paid it no mind until Sorya and Anrhi collectively gasped and clutched her arms tight. Only then did she look up to see what had startled her handmaidens so, and in the midst of all the chaos and confusion, she spent long seconds wondering what all the fuss was about. Then she noticed the shadowy figures gathering upon the inner wall did not have their backs to her, and were instead brandishing their weapons towards the Imperial soldiers forming up in the courtyard.

Choking back a gasp which would have given away her ignorance, Luo-Luo trembled from head to toe in unmitigated terror. With the Defiled on the inner wall, only a thin, paltry line of soldiers stood between her and the Enemy forces, a meagre and insignificant defence considering the Defiled had already overrun three walls with their savage ferocity and staggering numbers. Faced with the facts, Luo-Luo’s blood pounded in her ears and heart thudded in her chest in response to this primeval fear. Her hands felt cold and clammy even as her skin grew hot to the touch, her vision swimming as she struggled to keep herself steady, but no matter how many deep breaths she tried to take, it felt like she was drowning on dry land.

Then a breathless Sir Dastan arrived, covered in fetid, greyish-white sludge while cradling the unconscious Lord Husband in his arms, and Luo-Luo’s legs gave out from under her.

Stifling a piteous wail as she brought her twin handmaidens down with her, Luo-Luo watched Lin-Lin check on Lord Husband while Sir Dastan made his report. “He took a nasty fall from the parapets,” he said, pausing briefly to sip from his water-skin and wipe his face, the putrid slime coming off in sticky, revolting clumps. “No visible injuries though, on either of them.” Saida, the lone female survivor of Dastan’s former retinue, stepped forward carrying Li-Li in similar straits, and Luo-Luo almost broke down then and there. The half-cat seemed so capable and commanding during her spars on the training ground, and it broke Luo-Luo’s heart to see her so helpless and vulnerable, with her lips pursed and brow drawn in concern and uncertainty even while fast asleep in her Runic armour. This more than anything proved how dire the situation had become, for if even the stoic and dependable Li-Li was unable to weather this calamity, then what chance did Luo-Luo have of surviving to see dawn?

Leaving Lin-Lin to fuss over Lord Husband and Li-Li, Sir Dastan marched over with two soldiers in tow, a dark-skinned ruffian named Ravil and his cold and merciless shadow Siyar. “Consort Luo,” Dastan said, the perfect picture of a heroic gentleman as he helped her handmaidens stand so they could in turn help her, both mindful and considerate despite the less than ideal circumstances. “You know how to ride a quin, correct?” Waiting for Luo-Luo’s nod, Dastan continued, “Good. Ravil and Siyar here will have quins harnessed and readied for you and your handmaidens, and they’ll remain by your side as escorts if the worst should come to pass.” Luo-Luo would much rather have almost any other soldier from Lord Husband’s retinue, such as the dignified Wang Bao or the charming husband-and-wife pair of Ulfsaar and Neera, but this hardly seemed like the time to be choosy. “Go pack a single change of clothes and if you deem it necessary, whatever small trinkets you can carry on your person, but nothing else. If a full retreat becomes necessary, the wagons will be filled with people, not luggage. The quins will be carrying food and water, but if you head straight east at a steady pace, it shouldn’t be long before you’re spotted by scouts from the Imperial reinforcements.”

Nodding like a chicken pecking grains, Luo-Luo rose on shaky legs to do as suggested while Sir Dastan returned to the battlefield. “Yes, my things. Of course.” A single change of clothes? Mother in Heaven, that meant leaving a fortune behind in silks and leathers. Opening her wardrobe, she ran her hands over the outfit she cherished most, for while her dresses were easily replaceable, her custom stitched Khishig leathers were a gift from her in-laws, who’d both been delighted to hear Luo-Luo was Demonstrating the Forms every day. Knowing time was of the essence, she grabbed a suitable travel outfit and turned away from the rest, only to rest her eyes on her precious zither. While manufactured by a craftsman of no particular fame, this was the instrument she used to compose the final movement of ‘Rise to Glory’ and win over soldiers, civilians, and even Lord Husband’s sweet animals back in the Citadel, so how could she bear to leave it for the Defiled? She should never have brought it with her to Sinuji, but she so loved to play for Lord Husband’s pets, even if Lord Husband himself was less than appreciative of her efforts.

...The pets! Oh Mother in Heaven, what would become of Lord Husband’s pets? Were they to run alongside the quins, or would they suffer the same fate as Luo-Luo’s zither?

Returning to Lord Husband’s side with her spare clothes in hand, she was gratified to find Lin-Lin loading the rabbits, bears, and wildcats into wagons and rushed over to help, only to freeze in place as yet another unfamiliar voice addressed all of Sinuji. “Rejoice and despair,” the mysterious Monk said, standing atop the inner wall, his calm demeanour and dignified bearing entirely at odds with the frenzied Defiled swarming around him. “For the Confessor has come to hear your sins and guide you back from your errant path.”

Though Luo-Luo didn’t recognize the moniker, Sorya and Anrhi most certainly did, for her two handmaidens all but collapsed in a gibbering mass of tears and whimpers. In between gasps and hiccups, Luo-Luo pieced together the facts and almost added her own sobs to the mix, for this Confessor sounded like a nightmare made reality. Why no one suspected a mass torturer who Purged countless suspected Defiled over five decades, Luo-Luo couldn’t say, but she desperately hoped the Living Legend would have strength enough to end the wicked Confessor.

“Hmph,” Lin-Lin huffed as the first exchange between these two titans ended poorly for the Colonel General. “What is Zu-Zu doing? He’s supposed to be strong, ya? Just smash that smelly Confessor up and the wall he’s standing on.” Crossing her arms in indignation, the sweet, honey-skinned maiden muttered, “So dumb. Zu-Zu better win. The last time he was injured, Daddy spent weeks locked away in a stinky little hut tending to his stinky injuries, all in the name of stinky safety. Those stupid soldiers wouldn’t even tell me where Daddy was even though I hadn’t seen him in weeks. I had to call in a favour to get the guards to go find him. Mean.”

Praying no one would repeat the half-hare’s near blasphemous slander for the lofty Colonel General to hear, Luo-Luo shook herself free from her handmaidens and wrapped her arms around Lin-Lin’s shoulders instead, if only to be in position to cover her mouth in the event of yet another scathing scolding. “I’m sure he’ll emerge victorious,” Luo-Luo said, even as the second exchange ended the same way as the first. “Living Legend Nian Zu’s reputation is well-known even in the Eastern Province, a warrior standing at the pinnacle of his peers.” A lie, for she’d never heard of Nian Zu before coming to Central, but a much-needed one to bolster flagging spirits, for the third exchange had come and gone and the Confessor still stood high upon the wall, while Nian Zu could do naught but watch from below. “How are Lord Husband and Li-Li? Will they...” Luo-Luo meant to say ‘wake’, but she changed her mind at the last second and said, “Be able to travel?”

“They’re okay, but...” Her long, satiny hare-ears sagging in sorrow, Lin-Lin clutched Luo-Luo’s wrists and nuzzled them for comfort. “I don’t know what’s wrong. Dastan said they were punched off the wall by a Demon, but they’re both completely uninjured, inside and out.” Mother in Heaven, is that how they fell? Luo-Luo must have missed it in her shock, because it seemed like something she would remember.

“Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo.” Squatting on the floor and somehow having gone unnoticed all this time, the portly Monk Happy straightened up while studying a handkerchief in his hand, one covered in the repulsive sludge which had covered Sir Dastan from head to toe. “Alas this monk has no answers to offer and only more questions to ask.” Looking Lord Husband and Li-Li over, Monk Happy shook his head and muttered, “How curious. According to young friend Dastan, he found the severed Demon arm laying atop a comatose Junior Brother and Khishig Song, and when he tried to lift it, it burst apart into this foul slime instead of caustic Ichor. This monk does not mean to cast aspersions upon our young friend, but if his words are true, then where did the Ichor go? If it was so fragile, why did the limb not burst apart after falling from the parapets? How did Junior Brother and Khishig Song emerge from this same fall with nary a bruise or bump? Most peculiar, and perhaps even troubling...”

Throughout Monk Happy’s entire deliberation, Luo-Luo split her attention between the Colonel General’s duel and Lord Husband’s unconscious form, neither of which were a sight to inspire hope or confidence. Having tacitly accepted the Confessor’s challenge, Nian Zu had attacked five times now, each to no effect, unable to set foot upon the battlements or force the deceptively powerful Confessor back. Granted, it was still a powerful display of Martial Skill Luo-Luo could barely follow, but to her admittedly novice eyes, it seemed like the Defiled Goujian was simply toying with his famed opponent. There was no skill involved in the Confessor’s defence, the famed torturer merely standing in place to accept the Living Legend’s attacks with bare flesh, only to emerge unscathed as mace, fist, and boot glanced off his body with utter impunity. Each failed gambit chipped away at Sinuji’s frail morale, and standing here at the back of the last line of defences, Luo-Luo could see the effect this had on the valiant Imperial soldiers before her. Some looked away while others shifted uncomfortably in place, but the majority simply watched in shocked silence, unable to even cheer or support their grand hero in this desperate, one-sided match.

As for Lord Husband, at least he looked peaceful in sleep, more calm and composed than she’d ever seen him in their many months together. Too peaceful, in fact, so much so that Luo-Luo reached down to stroke his cheek and secretly check if he was still breathing. Perhaps it was a trick of memory, but he even looked a little healthier than usual, still thin and frail but with fuller cheeks and rosier skin than what she’d seen in recent months, a far cry from the bold and vigorous noble gentleman she sat beside during her near-disastrous wedding banquet, so handsome once properly dressed and meticulously groomed.

Tearing up at the memory, she prayed for his safety and good health, just as she’d prayed while the Medical Saint directed Father-in-Law to cut Lord Husband’s belly open so they could physically remove the obstruction in his intestines. A simple yet brilliant solution, she hoped against all hope that he would open his eyes and rattle off some new, insane plan to save Sinuji, or at the very least, save himself.

It wouldn’t even be so far-fetched if it really happened. Earlier today, when Lord Husband shared the tale of his trials and tribulations in Sanshu, not only did he deliver his words to people too far to hear him, but his emotions as well, all in some strange and mysterious fashion. As he narrated the haunting and poignant tale, it sounded as if he were standing beside her instead of far away on the outer wall, but that was not all. His every word was brimming with love and affection, guilt and remorse, his emotions delivered to her through unknown, mystical means so she could experience it all for herself. Though it was a compelling tale of love and tragedy between two star-crossed lovers, the impact would not have been half as much if he’d not used Chi to tell it, which was a sure sign of recovery as any.

She still remembered young patriarch Han BoShui’s sensational account of Lord Husband’s prowess upon the battlefield, how he fought ensconced in a sphere of streaming water while Healing grievous injuries which would have killed a lesser man, all of which took place after his Spiritual Weapons broke and shattered his Core. If a miracle could happen once, then why not again, and if ever there were a need for a miracle, that time would be now.

Alas, her prayers went unanswered and Lord Husband continued to sleep, laid out upon the grass with sweet Li-Li beside him.

Trampled by boots and rimed by cold frost, the unyielding winter grass quivered in the firelight, and for a moment, Luo-Luo wondered if her eyes were playing tricks on her. After rubbing her eyes, she looked again, and still the grass jostled about, at which point she realized there was something amiss. “Um,” she said, speaking to no one in particular as she pointed at the fluttering grass and bouncing stones. “Is this normal?”

Of course it wasn’t, and she regretted the question even as she asked it, but then there was no more time to think as the Defiled let loose with a thunderous roar simultaneously with the ground erupting around Luo-Luo. Chaos ensued as a shrill shriek rang out into the night, and it was only then that Luo-Luo recognized the voice for her own, but there was nothing she could do as hideous, bestial aberrations burst out from underground and their dread, Demonic Aura washed over her in palpable waves of horror and hysteria. Those mole-like Demons brandished their wicked talons and protruding teeth as they pounced upon hidden protectors Luo-Luo hadn’t even known were there, ones she eventually recognized as Lin-Lin’s veiled guards and coldly noted were vastly outnumbered. Four veiled guards and a pacifist monk fought against fifteen inhuman Demons, and the situation only got worse as several more Demons appeared out of thin air with an entourage of wicked Defiled to accompany them.

Wraiths. Stealthy, murderous Wraiths with their wicked black blades, capable of killing lesser Martial Warriors with little more than a scratch. Lesser Martial Warriors like say, herself.

“Move!” Unceremoniously shouldering Luo-Luo away, the black-skinned ruffian Ravil hurried her along while hefting Lord Husband over his shoulder like a sack of rice. “Siyar, cover my ass and let’s get out of here, with or without the lady Consort.”

Galvanized by the overt threat, Luo-Luo sprung into action without thinking. To her great surprise, her first response was not to flee in mindless panic, but to tuck her sceptre into her belt and crouch down to grab Li-Li lying at her feet, and only then did she realize Lin-Lin was nowhere to be found. Cursing the guards who’d left Luo-Luo to fend for herself, she drew on what little courage she had and swore she wouldn’t leave poor Li-Li behind to die, not with the salacious Tursinai and her stoic husband Tenjin nowhere to be found. Terror and panic fuelling her strength, she lifted the half-cat with ease and cradled her close while making sure Sorya and Anrhi were both clear-headed enough to follow her away to safety. “Lead the way,” she shouted once she was ready to go, but Ravil and Siyar had made good on the threat to let her fend for herself and were already several meters away.

Two murderous bastards cut from the same cloth... At least they were loyal to Lord Husband.

Luckily, not all of Lord Husband’s soldiers were as heartless as Ravil and Siyar or away in the courtyard. With a sickening squelch of metal on flesh and a booming, desperate roar, the half-bull Pran smashed aside two Wraiths barring Luo-Luo’s path while his brother Saluk held back a serpentine Demon through sheer force of will, bleeding from multiple gushing wounds yet still unyielding in his defence. “Go,” Pran said, gently pushing Luo-Luo along before jumping in to aid his brother, but a brief glance was enough to see that the half-bulls were sorely outmatched, their beautifully crafted weapons bouncing ineffectively off the Demon’s viridescent scales. Running as quickly as her legs would carry her, she did her best to keep track of both handmaidens while following her callous and uncaring escorts, marvelling at how these seemingly uncaring ruffians fought tooth and nail to keep Lord Husband alive.

So focused on suppressing her panic, she almost failed to notice how effective the two unassuming thugs were at clearing the path. Contrary to expectations, it was Siyar who led the way and Ravil who followed, the slender, pale thug bringing them in a meandering path around the battlefield, somehow avoiding the worst of the conflict though ultimately unable to break through the encirclement to bring Lord Husband away. Not to say neither men fought, for they summarily executed many a Wraith who crossed their paths with careless ease and ruthless efficiency. There was no elegance or flourish to their movements and attacks, only effective brutality and practical competence as these two soldiers used every tool at their disposal to exemplify the phrase ‘killing without blinking an eye’. Sword and boot, fist and skull, they fought like bar-room brawlers rather than the graceful dancers or robust juggernauts Luo-Luo was used to seeing, but she could still read the rhythm of their movements and was thoroughly impressed by their unorthodox yet compelling melody.

She likened it to an accomplished musician playing a symphony at the dinner table using normal, everyday implements. While neither beautiful nor pleasing to the eye or ear, the skill required to do so was still nonetheless impressive.

Capable though they might be, it was clear they were both outmatched against Demons, for were it not for the Experts keeping those monstrous beings at bay, Luo-Luo feared she would have long since fallen prey to the Father’s foul minions given flesh.

No...

As she watched a Demon scramble out of Ravil’s path, Luo-Luo noticed something off in the rhythm of this chaotic orchestra. It wasn’t that Siyar was avoiding the Demons, but the other way around, or more accurately, the Demons were avoiding Lord Husband. Remembering Monk Happy’s litany of facts and questions, something clicked in Luo-Luo’s mind, a thought so dubious and bizarre she almost laughed it off in shock, but then she saw Ravil stumble and stagger towards yet another Demon which also leapt away in fright, and she could no longer keep it to herself. “The Demons,” she shrieked, praying Ravil would hear and listen. “The Demons are afraid of Lord Husband!”

Ravil heard alright, and shot her a look so incredulous it made her cheeks burn in embarrassment, but the Mother must have been looking down upon them as the Guardian Turtle burst onto the scene with an adorably docile squeak of challenge. A globe of water shot out from her opened beak and impacted heavily against an armoured Demon, cracking its metallic flesh and sending it careening towards Ravil and Lord Husband. Then, in a gravity defying feat of flexibility and agility, it twisted aside to avoid a headlong collision and all but delivered itself into the spear of a nearby veiled guardian, who dispatched it only moments before it would have crashed into Luo-Luo and Li-Li. This didn’t escape Ravil’s notice either, and after an all-too-brief pause to consider his options, the bald thug grinned with murderous glee and charged headlong at the closest Demon, so eager and enthusiastic Luo-Luo worried he’d snapped and meant to use Lord Husband’s limp torso as a club.

The effect of his actions were both immediate and obvious as the serpentine Demon shot away from the near-death half-bull brothers to escape from Ravil’s almost suicidal charge. “C’mon you Demonic shits!” he cackled, jostling Lord Husband so much she worried he would wake with a concussion. “You fuckers ain’t even brave enough to face Falling Rain in his sleep?!”

Multiple Wraiths emerged from Concealment in response to the challenge, but Ravil’s sword was ready and waiting. With help from Siyar, they dispatched the stealthy Defiled assassins who had no qualms about approaching Lord Husband and charged the next closest Demon, a ferocious, bull-like creature with a fanged, feline head clashing with the Divine Turtle. Bleeding from multiple cuts and gashes, sweet Ping Ping fought gamely on, but the gentle turtle was not accustomed to battle and was clearly on the losing end, or she was until Ravil arrived with Lord Husband in tow. Dancing away from the thuggish soldier brandishing his commander like a weapon, the bull-Demon bellowed as it fought to escape from Ravil’s charge, but the Guardian Turtle would not give up the advantage so easily. Beak snapping shut around the Demon’s torso, she dragged it back to her legs before crushing it beneath a stomp of her mighty front leg, all while Deflecting the caustic, yellow-green Ichor away from her flesh and mouth.

And inadvertently, directly towards Ravil, who stood hidden behind the Demon in the Guardian Turtle’s blind spot.

A tortured scream erupted from his throat as the vile fluid ate away his armour and flesh. All too quickly those screams quieted and gave way to the sizzle and pop of melting fat. The thuggish soldier collapsed to the ground even as Luo-Luo ran over to help him, but she skidded to a stop to avoid crashing into Lord Husband, who somehow had landed on his feet. His back still hunched as if slung over Ravil’s shoulder, Lord Husband held the awkward pose while remaining rooted in place, his body covered from head to toe in vile Demonic fluids.

Then...

The sickly, corrosive Ichor lost its lustre as it slid off in giant clumps, revealing intact clothes and healthy, untouched flesh. Long seconds passed, or perhaps even minutes, Luo-Luo could not tell, but when Lord Husband finally moved, it was not to straighten up or look around, but rather to fall to his knees and place hands on Ravil’s blistered flesh. Again, the Ichor blanched and faded in colour before slipping away, but the damage had already been done to poor Ravil. With luck and help from a Healer, his life might still yet be preserved, but Lord Husband made no move to treat the man’s wounds or even bring him away to safety.

Slowly coming to his feet, Lord Husband turned around and locked eyes with Luo-Luo, but there was no sign of the charming, arrogant, and infuriating man she’d come to know and perhaps even love. There was no recognition either, for peering out from those striking amber eyes was a stranger she’d never met, one brimming with a cruel rage and burning hatred Lord Husband could never possess. Chest heaving with fury, his intimidating presence promised violence and brutality as he took in his surroundings with calculated restraint, ready to devolve into a murderous rampage at the first sign of threat or danger.

Savage. There was no other way to describe it, no better word to encapsulate the callous disregard for life and destructive intent in his gaze.

This was not Luo-Luo’s Lord Husband, the kind and gentle Falling Rain.

No, the man before her was a wild and ferocious warrior, a cruel butcher of men and reaper of lives so steeped in bloodshed and violence it had become second nature.

This was the Undying Savage, and woe betide anyone who stood against him.

Chapter Meme