Savage Divinity

With no earthly idea of how to solve this latest crisis, I fall back to a tried and true method that rarely lets me down.

I look around and see if anyone else is already working on a solution.

It doesn’t take long to discover that I’m not the only one to notice something amiss, as I spot Commander OuYang Min Jun in a meeting with representatives of the Brotherhood, the Royal Guardians, and the Divinities stationed in Meng Sha. For a man pushing a hundred and ten years of age, Min Jun is not the most dignified of commanders I’ve ever seen, what with his slovenly robes and ill-fitted armour sitting awkwardly over his hunched frame. The years have not been kind to him, but much of it is due to his reluctance to accept that time has passed him by, unwilling to let go of the few wispy strands of hair still left to him which droop sadly from the sides of his age-spotted head and sprout wildly about the base of his crooked jaw. His left eye is failing him and it shows because it never moves, leading the muscles around his eyelids to deteriorate from lack of use and giving him the air of a man half asleep.

His one good eye is still more than enough to hold the room’s attention however, because aged and decrepit though his appearance might be, he is still a veteran commander who’s seen more than his fair share of battle and bloodshed. “So the Bekhai have it right then?” Min Jun asks, speaking to the representative of my Royal Guardians, a dull and surprisingly sharp-tongued Imperial scion named Qiang who’s nervous enough to shuffle his feet. “There is truly some foul influence at work here?”

“An alternative form of Aura, one unlike anything we have ever experienced before,” Qiang replies, and Monk Bones nods in agreement, while Niu MoWang nods in concert.

“It is elusive and pervasive,” the Bull Divinity rumbles, his booming baritone resonating inside the command office despite his efforts to speak quietly. “Seeping through my defences like water through a dirt roof.” Though I’ve seen him before, sitting in a meeting with the Legate when I went to pay Mahakala my last respects, I am only now realizing that he is also the Runic Armoured Warrior who accompanied Fung into Nan Ping, for he is clad in that same armour now with his helm tucked beneath one arm. And here I thought the giant horns were decorative, but I guess he just wanted to be like Taduk and walk around in public without anyone knowing he was a Divinity. How many other Divinities like to hide in plain sight? I guess it gets lonely Concealing yourself all the time, to the point where strolling through a crowd can even be exhilarating, to some extent. Kinda sad when you think about it, the paranoid life of a Divinity in hiding, but I suppose we all have our trials and tribulations to bear.

“Can you counter it?” With this one question, Min Jun has won me over, because even though he isn’t the best commander around, he’s far from the worst and knows how to cut right to the crux of the issue. He doesn’t care about the details of this alternative Aura, only what can be done about it, a mindset I could stand to learn from.

“We can for now, but it is not so simple an issue.” Being a scholar at heart, Monk Bones seems all too happy to expound on the nitty gritty details without prompting, and none of the other parties seem keen on interrupting him. “In doing violence to one another, we do violence to our local surroundings in a metaphysical sense. A beaten man is injured not only in body, but in heart and mind as well, damage which seeps into the world around us. There is enough rage, hatred, despair, and death from this battle alone to stain the very fabric of reality itself, and the Enemy has found some means to harness, amplify, and redirect this back towards us in the form of an Aura-like effect.”

“If it’s merely an Aura, why can we not defend against it in the same vein?”

“Like matches like,” Monk Bones confidently replies, though I can somehow tell he’s not as certain as he appears. “Though fuelled by the violence taking place, the Aura-like effect originates from the world itself rather than the emotions of man or beast, and thus is different enough to bypass your conventional defences. Benefactor Niu’s analogy holds true, for a dirt wall is not enough to hold back this flood. While the Brotherhood’s efforts are able to block most of the effect from reaching the Imperial Warriors for now, the conflict in Meng Sha will continue to escalate the local imbalance and intensify the effect. Much like any Aura, it is far easier to defend than attack, but the despair experienced by the Imperial Warriors will only add to the local imbalance, which in turn makes the effect even stronger and creates even more despair in the hearts of the people, a vicious cycle which must be addressed. Left unchecked, this monk fears there will soon come a time when the metaphysical ‘weight’ of this Aura will grow exponentially until it is too much for us to bear, at which point everyone in Meng Sha will be exposed to the full extent of the Aura-like effect to disastrous results. Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo.”

“How long?” Min Jun asks, so quickly it seems like he’s given no thought at all to the details, which he probably hasn’t.

“Could be minutes, could be hours,” Monk Bones replies, pressing his palms together in prayer before offering a less than pious shrug. “Could be days even. Difficult to say, for the rate the effect is intensifying is neither constant nor predictable, but once the tipping point is reached, this monk fears there will be a mass outbreak of Demonic births as these poor, lost souls give into despair.”

“Then I can only ask that the Brotherhood does what it can, for as long as it can.” With that, the issue is all but dealt with in Min Jun’s mind, because there’s nothing more to be done, but Monk Bones and Royal Guardian Qiang are more worried than they let on. Again, my mind goes back to what Yuanyin said, calling Li-Li a ‘spark’ that could ignite a ‘beacon of hope’, while also ruminating on everything I know about Aura and the manipulation of Heavenly Energy.

All of which takes about half a second to go through before I realize I don’t know shit.

I have no idea how Zhen Shi is doing this. It could be something new he came up with, something old he’s pulling out of the closet, or it could be something he prepared in advance before giving up on Meng Sha, a trap left here long before we took over and built a fortress to defend. Since even a Divinity is having issues guarding against this insidious Aura, I check on Pong Pong, Rakky, and Kukku to see how they’re managing, but none of them appear even remotely concerned by this ‘natural’ Aura, or if they are, they aren’t showing it. Loyal Pong Pong sits nestled in my hair, ready to defend against all comers, while Rakky feigns nonchalance as he prepares to do the same. As for Kukky, he’s hiding behind Monk Bones like the coward that he is, but to be fair, he is a chicken after all, or a rooster at least.

Much as I would love to command any one of them to use their powers against the Defiled, I lack the ability to communicate with Kukky or Rakky with any clarity, while Pong Pong’s existence is best kept secret for as long as possible, so let’s call that the option of last, last, last resort and try to find another solution first.

“Hiya hubby.” Lin-Lin’s sleepy and innocuous tone chimes out from behind me, breaking my immersion from the PC screen. Turning around to greet her with a smile on my face, my expression freezes in a surge of panic and alarm as I see her kneeling at the edge of my bed and peering at the monitor with a look of innocent curiosity. Even though she’s seen the computer several times before, I’ve never turned it on in her presence, nor has she ever pressed me about any of the modern oddities interspersed throughout my Natal Palace, but now we’ve passed the point of wilful ignorance. It shames me to admit that my first instinct is to cast Lin-Lin out of my Natal Palace, one I ruthlessly quash because I could never do that to my sweet wifey, but alas, she knows me too well. “Sorry hubby,” she intones, averting her eyes from me and my PC to look down at her hands instead, the very picture of contrition as if she’d wronged me gravely. “I’ll leave you alone, ya?”

“No.” Refusing before I’ve even had a moment to think things through, I reach out to take her hands in mine and repeat myself again, only this time, I mean it. “No. Don’t go.” Struggling to find the words to say, I gaze into her eyes and realize it doesn’t matter, because even though I’m not yet ready to explain everything about my past, Lin-Lin accepts me for who I am, regardless of who I was in the past or who I might become in the future. “I’m sorry I panicked. Please stay.”

“Really?”

“Really. I want you to stay.” Tugging ever so gently at her arms, I float her over to perch in my lap before twirling about in my chair, a simple gesture that sets her to giggling in delight. Her laughter fades as the screen captures her attention again and she realizes what she’s seeing, a real-time feed of the command centre and the meeting taking place. “Ah. Is this a Keystone for Scrying?”

“Yea, and... Listening, I guess, though I’m not entirely sure if that’s even a Chi skill.” Man, I never stopped to think about how I’m hearing everything, so I really hope I don’t get too caught up in trying to figure it out. I still don’t understand how overthinking makes me stop being able to do things. It’s like waking up one morning and wondering how your arm works, only to think so hard about it you can’t move it anymore. Stupid, in a word, and I would really love to not be, but now is not the time for self-flagellation. Gesturing at the mouse and keyboard, I explain, “I’m Scrying from a fixed point of view, but I can move it around using these.” With one hand wrapped around her waist, I stop petting Buddy to show Lin-Lin how it works, and my sweet doggo accepts his fate with little more than a huff. Thankfully, my sweet wifey picks up the slack and sets to rubbing his head as I walk her through how to use my PC, including an explanation of how the shiny, rainbow hued lights infesting the entire system are just there to indicate that the Keystone is ‘on’.

I mean, I love the flashing rainbow lights, but it’s still embarrassing to show people…

“This is really clever hubby,” Lin-Lin says, lifting my mouse to look at the laser underneath while pretending not to study the seemingly nonsensical characters on my keyboard. “If you Scry through a Keystone, then that makes it almost impossible for someone to trick you out of your Natal Palace again, ya? Even if you fall into another illusion and try to follow that stinky Ghost out, your real self is just sitting here moving your hand and fingers in safety. Good job!”

An unexpected benefit of my cowardice, since I created the PC to emotionally distance myself from the action, but one I will shamelessly take credit for. “Thanks.” Kissing her on the cheek to quell any further undeserved compliments, I continue to explain everything I just heard and the current dilemma I’m trying to fix, namely the whole kerfuffle regarding the world’s Aura. It doesn’t take too long as Lin-Lin keeps me on track with a few simple questions that helps speed things along, but it’s also due to the fact that she’s able to keep up with me at almost the speed of thought when we try to. It’s a little like reading a book, in that a normal reader will sound out each word on the page out of habit, while a speed reader can skip the sub-vocalization and translate the symbols on the page into thoughts and concepts on the fly, except now we’re doing this in tandem and finishing each other’s thoughts without even trying. Oddly enough, Lin-Lin seems more adept at this than I am, though that could be because she can only read common, in which the characters are not a representation of phonetic expression like in English, but rather a concept all by itself. Then again, it could also be because she’s supremely talented, but I’d feel a little better if there was some explanation for how amazing my wifey is, other than just her natural brilliance. I already have enough inferiority issues as it is, and could really do without adding a few more.

“Mm.” As I finish reiterating Monk Bones’ explanation of everything in the space of a second passing in reality, Lin-Lin utters a sound that says she understands and is thinking, but not for long. “You’re looking at things the wrong way hubby,” Lin-Lin begins, leaning her head on my shoulder as she immerses herself in thought. “If this were a disease, you would be trying to treat the symptom, the Aura-like effect, when instead you should be treating the root cause, ya?”

“Um... yea, because I have no idea how to treat the root cause.”

“No, you didn’t even think about it, did you? You just got confused and moved on to a problem you thought you could solve, because you thought it was better to do something than nothing.” Pinching my cheek with a huff, Lin-Lin asks, “What’s the root cause hubby?”

“The unblockable Aura of despair threatening to overwhelm every Imperial in Meng Sha.”

“Close, but nope.” Shaking her head, Lin-Lin explains, “It’s not the Aura itself, but the fact that it’s feeding on despair and reflecting it back. You said you grew suspicious when you overheard stinky Yuanyin say something about Li-Li ‘igniting a beacon of hope’? That’s the clue hubby, because if the Uniter was concerned enough to mention it, then it’s worth paying attention to, so why do you think he said it?”

Good question. From what I could gather from Monk Bones’ explanation, this ‘natural’ Aura is merely a reflection of reality, meaning it’s radiating despair because that’s the prevailing emotion floating about in the air. From there, it’s easy to snowball into an inescapable pit of wretched misery, but the inverse is also true. A single beacon of hope might well be enough to kick the world’s Aura into a different gear and turn the tides on the Enemy, assuming Zhen Shi doesn’t just shut it all down the moment things aren’t leaning in his favour. A simple, straightforward solution to a seemingly complex issue, because much like Min Jun, Lin-Lin isn’t one to get hung up on the specifics, but unfortunately the devil is in the details. “And how do I do that?”

“You don’t, hubby.” Hearing the smile in her tone, I glance at my wifey who looks oh so proud as she shifts in my lap and takes hold of the mouse and keyboard to shift my viewpoint around, and it makes me feel a little better seeing her struggle with the unintuitive controls at first. “You’re stuck here in a coma and can’t do anything,” she continues, with no regard for my pride at all as she masters the mouse and keyboard to find what she’s looking for and points at the monitor in triumph, “But even the Enemy knows you’re not the only one who can inspire hope.”

There on the screen is none other than fair Li-Li, trading blows against the ragged monk Yuanyin. No, trading is the wrong word here, for despite putting on a dazzling display of shimmering steel, their blades never once connect. Not for a lack of trying, as Yuanyin’s fury mounts in his desperation to land a decisive strike, but Li-Li reads him like a book and dances around his clumsy attacks so effortlessly it almost looks like a practised routine. Her formal, unwavering recital of the Classics of Poetry lends an air of grace and dignity to the battle, the cadence of her monotone words matching the flow of her movements in a way that transcends rhythm and tempo, as if there is more to this demonstration than what our eyes and ears perceive, more than even what the human senses can distinguish. Those who see her have their spirits lifted, for they see a Hero of the Empire who stands fast against all odds, spurring them to fight that much harder to support her.

This is what they meant by a beacon of hope, for no soldier is an island unto themselves. Li-Li is but a single stone in the river, but enough stones working in concert can hold back even the greatest of floods.

The only fly in the ointment is Li-Li’s inability to cut him down where he stands, for though Yuanyin is little more than a fish upon the chopping block, her sabre is unable to pierce through his figurative scales, which in this case are his bones. Yuanyin’s efforts to refine his body are crude and unfinished at best, having focused far too much on the aspect of physical durability alone. That is merely one benefit of merging the physical with the metaphysical, and quite possibly the least important of them all, but Yuanyin has focused on this to the exclusion of all else in his desire to advance along the Martial Path. He didn’t even do it right, because though he was able to refine his bones and bind the metaphysical to his physical frame, the connection is shallow and one-way, an overlap of the two rather than the true blending of the real and immaterial. Had he truly succeeded, then he would be peerless beneath Divinity, but as he is now, any Warrior with a Domain could cleave clean through his torso with little more than an effort of Will.

How do I know this? Not entirely sure, but it seems obvious and apparent at first glance, the answers coming to me without even needing to think about it. Knowing without knowing, something that has always left a bitter taste in my mouth, because it makes it all too easy to mix up Insight with self-delusion. In this instance however, I will have to trust but verify, meaning I will accept these answers as they are for now, but find time later to figure out the details in depth.

Unfortunately for Li-Li, she has still yet to wholly understand how to truly Develop her Domain, even though she has everything she needs to take the next step. A Domain is merely seizing authority from the Heavens, or in simpler terms, exerting your Will upon the world until it gives way and accepts it. That’s all it takes, the confidence and conviction to bend the Energy of the Heavens to your Will, and the rest will sort itself out so long as you meet the prerequisites. Though she has yet to understand this, she’s already got her toes over the finish line and only needs to push herself forward another step, as evidenced by how easily she evades all of Yuanyin’s best strikes. Such a feat would not be possible if she were relying on her physical senses alone, for her Spiritual Senses are contributing to her decision making as well, senses which she can only utilize by creating a pseudo-Domain.

That’s why they call it One With the World, because the world itself is feeding her the information she needs through her Spiritual Sense, but Li-Li has yet to wholly tap into the connection and register what it’s telling her. So close, yet so far. I could push her over the finish line, but it would be so much better for her to cross that final bit herself, an indisputable fact I know in my heart of hearts without any logic or reasoning to back it up. I pushed Rustram to Develop his Domain, or rather essentially did it for him, but nothing in life comes without a cost. I have no doubt that skipping this step will make things harder for him down the road, but I also believe in his skills and in his Mentor who will not settle for anything less than greatness. Mom saw it long before anyone else, that Rustram has it in him to be among the best of us, and she will not let him rest until he reaches his full potential.

Sorry Rustram. I might have inadvertently made things more difficult for you, but I’m sure you won’t hold it against me.

More knowing without knowing, an annoying experience if there ever was one, but that doesn’t make it any less convincing, so I watch with bated breath and pray Li-Li finds success even as my mind wanders and wonders what everyone else is up to. Taking over the mouse and keyboard from Lin-Lin, I open up new tabs to check on others who are near and dear to my heart, with Yan and Mila featuring prominently on the left and right monitors, alongside a plethora of other viewpoints which surround them.

Heedless of the blood and viscera caked across her face and uniform, my beloved wife Yan is embroiled in a bitter struggle against the waves of Demons and Champions threatening to overrun the parapets. Despite all the odds stacked against her and the pervasive Aura of Despair hanging over her head, her beautiful smile stretches from ear to ear as she throws herself into the thick of things time and time again with what I can only call exuberant glee. Though she’s come a long way since I fought beside her in the wild forests of the North, she’s still the same rough and tumble brawler deep down inside, and it shows in the spirited manner in which she runs roughshod over the opposition. She has no qualms about fighting dirty and hitting her foes while they’re duelling someone else, and anyone ready to fight her head on is promptly ignored in favour of easier prey. Though not quite as domineering as Grandpa Du, Yan sweeps through the lines with near impunity thanks to her careful target selection, striking and killing unsuspecting foes time and time again. As she kicks, punches, and headbutts her way through the crowd, there’s a liveliness to her movements that speaks to the heart, a brisk and efficient methodology that values speed and efficiency above all else. She is no duellist standing out on the battlefield, no towering hero holding up the Heavens with one hand, merely a lowly Warrior doing everything she can to win and enjoying every last second of the challenge.

An attitude which is both inspirational and infectious at the same time. The soldiers fighting alongside her don’t see her as a larger-than-life figure, but a Warrior no different from themselves, but one with the courage to shoulder what they see as more than her fair share. Shame is a powerful motivator, and the soldiers of the Empire are nothing if not proud, which is why they swallow their fear and fight even harder in the presence of Du Min Yan, taking on just a bit more of the burden so she doesn’t have to. Where Du Min Gyu inspires hope through sheer, single-handed domination, Yan does so through example alone, and it is an example we should all aspire to.

Even as I watch however, Yan’s good fortune comes to an end as three Demons come together to box her in, forcing a fight where they hold all the advantages. Never one to give up without a fight, Yan opens with a Wind Blade that bisects the closest Demon from shoulder to hip and opens up a possible path to salvation, but alas, her foes are too quick as the remaining two Demons pounce upon her from either side. Time slows as Yan whirls around in a futile effort to block their deadly attacks, and my heart freezes in place. Her ranged attacks possess a pseudo-Domain which can injure and kill Demons well enough, but even if she delivers two Wind Blades and deals two killing blows in quick succession, there’s no evading the Demons’ attacks. Momentum alone will send their claws plunging deep into her upper torso, to say nothing of the sheer volume of weight behind those extended talons. Dogged and pragmatic as she is, my beloved Yan stands ready to accept this trade and bank on surviving through Healing, but I know there are still better options left to her.

At the same time, Mila fights for dear life on the rightmost screen, her beautiful freckled features twisted in anger and frustration. The Demon that was once Gen is a formidable abomination blessed by Metal, or Earth’s Fire as he loved to so pretentiously announce. This means that not only is the Demon capable of spewing pillars of burning hot flame, it is also physically stronger than Mila despite its twisted, spindly frame, no different from how Gen was in life. Paragon hangs loosely at her waist as she hunkers down behind her shield with spear in hand, warding off blow after hammer blow while fighting to stick close lest the Demon turn its attention elsewhere to wreak havoc on the Imperial lines. Alas, her ability to emit Radiant Chi is limited to barely beyond her skin, meaning she can protect herself from Elemental Chi, but that’s as far as it goes. If a pillar of flame were to erupt beneath her feet, she would be helpless to save anyone standing nearby, nor can she use her Blessing at range, which is why she is so desperate to drive the Demon away from the front lines.

That’s my beloved Mila, so conscientious and dutiful. Though she puts on a show of being prickly and ill-tempered, she is a kind and compassionate soul, someone whose heart is always in the right place even if her reasoning is less than ideal. Ever since she was a little girl, she’s always wanted to make both her parents proud, which is why she strives so hard to emulate them by becoming a Warrior, Commander, and Divine Blacksmith all at once. She knows her parents love her and would be proud no matter what profession she chose, and while others would have long since been forced to revise their childish dreams due to a lack of talent, Mila is a once in ten-thousand-year genius who excelled in everything she tried her hand at. Thus, her parents did not see fit to limit the scope of her studies since it seemed like she could shoulder the burden, but now Mila is fast approaching the limits of how far natural talent and hard work can carry her.

Because like in all other facets of life, hard work and talent is no guarantee of success.

Despite standing at the forefront of her peers in terms of strength, Mila has fallen behind Li-Li and Yan when it comes to progress along the Martial Path, largely due to her broad focus. A flaw which only revealed itself recently because she’s too talented for her own good, but now that she’s locked in battle with a superior foe, she is suffering for it. The Demon Gen is both faster and stronger, and while Li-Li is able to put up a fight and even hold the upper hand against Yuanyin under similar circumstances, Mila is unfamiliar with fighting from a disadvantage. Sparring against Da’in has given her some experience in this aspect, but losing to superior skill is not the same as losing to overwhelming strength. Against Da’in, Mila could still bring her formidable physical prowess to bear, but against the Demon Gen, her greatest advantage is of little use against his heavy, Earth-enhanced blows. To make matters worse, Mila is somewhat naive and most certainly idealistic, for she is unwilling to let others come to harm so that she can exploit an opening in the Demon’s defense. A noble sentiment, but foolish in her current circumstances, seeing how helpless she is in the moment. She can’t even use Paragon to bind and mangle her foe, for she lacks a Domain to pierce through his chitinous hide, one that has been reinforced beyond even that of a normal Demonic constitution thanks to his Blessing of Metal. Even the advantage of speed is denied her, though she has always been limited in this aspect, a trade-off for the increased bone and muscle density afforded to her by her Blessing.

Minor aside here, but seriously: Fucking Blessings. How do they work?

My chest aches as I watch my fiery beloved endure a storm of blows for lack of any better options, and it eats me alive to see her slowly succumb to fear and doubt as she weathers the storm without faltering. A conflict she is only losing because of the foul Enemy working pervading all of Meng Sha, but even without it, I fear she would be in most dire straits. Though talented beyond compare, Mila’s ego is fragile as glass for it has never been broken before, a failing born of being too damned talented to be beat by someone close to her age. This is simply a poor match-up for her, but that doesn’t mean all hope is lost, only that she must rise above her limitations and reach her full potential in order to emerge victorious here today.

Though I love my wives dearly, I care about my friends and comrades too, so even as Mila and Yan fight for their lives, I take in the dozens of other viewpoints showing me what’s happening all across Meng Sha. Staunchly guarding Li-Li’s flank to keep the Mataram Clansmen from interfering, Dastan howls in wordless rage as he fights like a man possessed. It is more than duty which holds him here, but fury for his fallen friends who died here today. Though it was no fault of his own, he blames himself for their death, for he is more like me than either of us would care to admit. Possessed with the pride of a rising young dragon, Dastan sees Li-Li’s superlative efforts and hates himself for failing to measure up, for if he were as strong as she was, then his friends and comrades would still be alive. The rage eats away at him, and his hatred burns strong, but even this is not enough to unhinge him as he holds fast to Balance. Again and again, he swings his axe, scything through Chosen like a farmer through wheat thanks to his advanced form of Honing, but even a thousand dead Defiled will not be enough to quench his thirst for vengeance. In his frenzy, he advances upon his next foe without noticing the blue-trim of his armour or the arrogant demeanour he holds himself with, and though Dastan Zhandos might well be the match of every Junior Mataram Officer on the field, he is tired and spent from almost a half-hour of constant conflict while his foe is fresh in from the back lines.

Muttering obscenities beneath his breath, Siyar stalks along the battlements seeking out targets to kill from afar, having emptied three pouches of ammunition already and fast coming to an end of the fourth. A life of lackadaisical sloth and indulgent drinking has left him with a Core smaller than most, a failing he usually makes up for by relying on cold steel alone to secure the bulk of his kills. Today however, he’s going all out and paying dearly for it, though he’s suffered far worse than a headache before. Ignoring the sound of his heartbeat pounding away at his skull, he loads his Spiritual Rifle and fires into the crowd, killing yet another Mataram Clansmen. This one was no Officer, but he was about to put his spear through one of Siyar’s comrades, which meant one less body between him and the Enemy. A cold and calculating way of seeing things, but that’s always been his way, and the only way he knows how to find Balance. No fear or anger, no thrill or pleasure, just bloody business plain and simple, and he stalks off to find yet another target as he loads his gun once more.

Standing upon the southern gate, Zian’s twin sabres whirl about as he fights with everything he has, but even this is not enough. A daunting foe, this fleshy, corpulent Demon, whose legs are almost as thick as Zian is wide. Though he possesses a Domain of his own, he lacks the raw power needed to drive his blades home, as every one of his blows glance ineffectively off of the Demon’s many layers of malleable yet durable fat. Arms leaden and lungs burning, Zian fights on regardless because to do otherwise would be to admit defeat, for he is confident in his ability to get away if needed, to say nothing of how he believes his Guardian and protector Situ Chi Gan will keep him safe.

Alas, the formidable Peak Expert is embroiled in a bitter exchange against the Whirling Dervish Mataram Minzhe, a menacing Enemy Expert who might well have killed Situ Jia Yang if not for Chi Gan’s intervention. Their exchange is a dizzying back and forth that leaves me breathless with awe, but I cannot bring myself to spare too much attention towards it, for I am only now seeing an even greater exchange taking place nearby.

For unbeknownst to me, the Mataram Patriarch has taken the field, only for Naaran to step up to the challenge.

A single exchange is all it takes to see that Naaran is outmatched. When Mataram YuGan thrusts his spear, he moves so quickly that multiple attacks blend together into one, making it appear as if he is wielding one spear with two dozen spear-heads attached to the end. In contrast, Naaran can block a single attack before retreating from the flurry of blows, giving way as he circles about Meng Sha in a fruitless effort to hold the Defiled Patriarch back. Despite being a formidable Peak Expert who once surpassed Dad, Naaran has long since lost his drive to advance along the Martial Path, and his skills have stagnated and regressed in recent years. Then again, even at his prime, he would have fallen short of matching the Mataram Patriarch in combat, but not through any fault of his own. YuGan himself is a skilled spearman, but similar to Mila, a good portion of his domineering prowess comes in the form of his superior physique, one bestowed upon him by the Demon residing in the armour merged to his flesh. There is a wrongness to the Mataram Patriarch that I have not been able to sense before, an aversion to his existence that sickens me to the core, for in order to bind the Demon to his will, he has opened his soul to the Void and allowed the Demon to feast on the very essence of who he is.

In short, he has tamed the beast by feeding a part of himself to it, and in doing so, bound their fates together in a twisted union of man and Demon that leaves them straddling the boundary between both. Though he retains his sanity, it is difficult to say if this will last, for his Will is lessened by this union and the Demon’s strengthened in turn. Rather than the divisive Wills of a thousand fragmented souls driven by desire to become whole, the Spectres which make up this Demon have been united in purpose by the taste of Mataram YuGan’s soul. Devour him, and they can become him, or so they believe, and they will not rest until their ravenous hunger is sated.

These are but a handful of the conflicts concurrently taking place, with hundreds of thousands more to still go through. Much as I yearn to view them all, there are limits to how much information I can take in, and limits to the time I have left to act. I know what Lin-Lin was trying to say when she showed me Li-Li’s battle, that there are other Warriors here to help hold up the Heavens, so I shouldn’t take on the whole burden myself. She’s right, of course, because I’m just one man, a stupid one who shouldn’t even be here in this world in the first place. If only I wasn’t in a coma, then maybe I could do something about all this, but what good are hypotheticals here and now?

I cannot stand up and take part in the fighting, and even if I could, there’s no way I can save everyone, but here in my Natal Palace, I operate at the speed of thought and can slow my perception of time down enough to stretch a single second into minutes if need be. Comatose as I am, the only way for me to affect the battle is to send out Natal Souls in my place, but I only just recently learned that this means dying a death for every Natal Soul I send. Though my Core self will still be here after all is said and done, I am literally sending a part of myself out to die, so how am I to trust my Natal Souls to carry out my Will without regret? I would gladly lay down my life for Mila and Yan, as well as Li-Li, Zian, Dastan, and so many other comrades in arms, but what about Joe Nobody on the wall about to take a Mataram Spear to the heart, or John Smith fighting down on the beach? Am I willing to experience death for them? Will my Natal Souls willingly expend their brief and limited lives to save them? I would love to confidently say yes they will, but I know myself better than that. There are few things I fear more than death, because the only reason I would die for my loved ones is because I fear what life will be like without them.

But even as I wrestle with my doubts, I know I have no other choice, because if I sit here and do nothing, then I will feel personally responsible for each and every death in Meng Sha. Doubly so if someone I love dies, but that goes without saying, so I do what I always do when faced with a difficult, life-changing decision.

I Leeroy Jenkins my way headlong into the fray, because I know I’ll only have to worry about the consequences if I survive.

Chapter Meme