Chapter 216

Chapter 216

The sun shines brightly overhead as my ears burn with shame, awkwardly nodding at my Sentinels while making my way to the front lines. Though theyve expressed nothing but encouragement and relief over my near brush with death, their support is overshadowed by the unmistakable sound of my lovely betrotheds choked laughter following me through the crowd. Sweet as she is, Mila has never been shy about pointing out my mistakes. In fact, she takes great delight in telling everyone we know about how I mistook Adujan for a boy, bringing it up every chance she gets. Just remembering the pity and sympathy in Baatars eyes makes me wildly uncomfortable, a mortifying experience to say the least. Now, I've handed her the motherlode of mockery, opening my big mouth to brag about not needing to get close. This stupid Heavenly Water is a jerk, making me look bad.

My fluidic friend offers no defence for its inaction, emanating a muted sense of lethargic complacency. Not because of my current situation, no, its pleased because it ate away the ichor on Li Songs face. Im still not entirely sure what happened, as it ignored my pleas to heal Milas burns. Then, while I panicked over Li Songs melting face, it acted without direction or permission, squeezing out a tiny drop no larger than my pinky which made its way down the stream of water and onto Li Songs face. Once there, it purified the Demonic energy inside the ichor and neutralized the chemical burn in a matter of seconds, leaving nothing but inert chunks of goo while silently demanding I retrieve the wayward droplet.

So why heal Li Song and not Mila? Does it think its too good to heal common burns or does it have a fetish for Demonic fluids? Could I use this to exorcise the Defiled? They dont exactly have priests around, but if my little buddy is really a Tear of the Mother, then I might become the first. Ha, I can see it now, running around the battlefield with a tiny flask in hand, splashing my enemies and shouting, The Power of Mom compels you!

An unnerving sense of dissent emanates from my subconscious, my quasi-sentient squatter voicing its refusal. Not exactly sure if its refusing the designation of Tear of the Mother or being put in a flask and sprinkled about, but it doesnt bother clarifying. Its so weird sharing my body with an amorphous blob of water. I mean, the human body is more than 50% water, so I guess I have room to spare, but Im curious as to where its physically located. Is it in my skin or is it deeper, like in my blood or something? When I sweat, am I sweating regular fluids or Heavenly Water? Somehow, the thought of Heavenly Water seeping from my armpits and running down my butt crack almost seems blasphemous, even if Im not wholly convinced of a higher power watching over me. Got any answers for me, little water buddy?

Offering no explanation, its presence lingers in my subconscious brain, silent and satisfied. So frustrating, my fortuitous encounter has left me with more questions than answers. Im pretty sure this isnt what happens to most people with a Blessing of the Elements. From what Ive gathered, everyone else gets tools and a mental instruction manual. I get a delayed, silent partner who may or may not help depending on its mood. I dont even know what Heavenly Water does, aside from act as a source of Heavenly Energy. I guess if I theoretically lived to a thousand years old, my bones might turn into a Heart for a Spiritual Weapon, but I dont see how thats any help. Ill be long dead by then, but maybe my great great great whatever grandkids can make a nice sword or something, assuming my watery friend sticks around that long.Updated from novelbIn.(c)om

Id love to call a timeout and ask a million questions to anyone willing to listen, but the Defiled arent exactly playing nice. Ugh, what I wouldnt give for the Almighty Appraisal skill to grace me with its presence. Itd be much easier than fumbling around in the dark and hoping I stumble over something useful. Knowledge is a weapon and Im armed with the equivalent of a rusty spoon in a world full of tactical nukes.

The duels arrayed before me only serves to reinforce the notion of my inferiority. Hugging the left side of the bridge, Tenjin clashes with Ravager Kaliyan, a busty, porcelain-skinned beauty with the worst case of crazy eyes Ive ever seen. Their blades moving faster than I can follow, neither warrior able to gain an advantage amidst the orchestra of chiming steel and hissing taunts, Kaliyans promises of pain and pleasure sending a chill down my spine. Despite their flurry of motion, neither one strays more than a hand span left or right, fighting as if atop a balance beam, both constrained by the railing and their neighbouring ally.

Occupying the centre of the bridge, Tursinai and Mao Jianghong stalk side to side, searching for an opportunity to strike at their partners foe while everyone else steers clear. Two domineering warriors playing a game of cat and mouse, struggling to define which one is predator and which one is prey. Walking the razors edge, Tursinai dances with the traitor guard captain, whirling her chain overhead like a flail to threaten Kaliyan and keep Jianghong on the defensive in a gut-wrenching match of wits and positioning. Step too close and her life is forfeit, ended by a single swipe of his massive saber. Stray too far and Tenjin pays the price, leaving her to deal with two fearsome foes without aid.

Fuck everything about that. Im not going near any of those four.

With almost three-quarters of the available space claimed by epic duels, the Defiled clash with my Sentinels along the right side of the bridge. Only three warriors from each faction trade blows, as any more would interfere with Tursinai and Jianghongs match, spelling instant death for anyone besides the two. Stuck in an odd pocket of calm, I watch as my Sentinels hold the line, periodically switching places whenever someone tires or is injured. A stalemate, with neither side is willing to wholly commit until their respective champions are victorious. So, what to do?

A half-baked idea forms in my mind and I stifle a sigh while glancing at my gathered Sentinels, studying their reactions as I ask, So which of you idle slackers are my supposed bodyguards? The question raises a few chuckles, but no one steps forward to claim the title, nor are there any obvious tells. Come on, dont be shy, Im not upset. Dont expect a glowing review when we get home, but I need to know whats on the table.

After waiting longer than I probably should have, I swallow my disappointment and move on. Stupid lying Gerel and stupid Baatar. Fine, be mysterious, see if I care. Just please be real, because things are about to get hairy. Alright then, heres the plan... Seeing the Sentinels hang onto my every word, it strikes me as odd how theyre all willing to follow me into battle. They all look so young, though that doesnt mean much. Most of them could probably kick my ass, and Im sure more than a few are better suited for command. What am I doing here, playing at being the leader? Its crazy, Im not qualified for this.

The next wave crashes into us almost immediately, my little trio gaining ground literally one step at a time. I hate slug fests like this, no room to breathe or maneuver, just a bloody hack and slash amid the press of bodies and blood. An axe rebounds off Tranquility and glances off my scalp. Falling to my knees, I stab my opponent in the groin, inwardly wincing as I do. Sorry, not sorry. The warm spray of blood coats my face, filling me with disgust and revulsion. So messy, this is why I hate fighting on foot. I dont like cavalry battles much either, too hard to stab people with a short sword and shield, but I doubt Id like them more if I had a spear. Duels are kind of shit too, with all the intense build up and the pressure of an audience, its bad for the heart. I guess when it comes right down to it, I dont really like fighting much. I love training to fight, Im just not a big fan of the whole risking life and limb bit.

I should take up a safer hobby, like knitting. No, those needles are pretty sharp. Maybe I should just start gambling. That seems like harmless fun.

Someone pulls me to my feet and shouts in my ear, bringing the world back into focus. Fucking head wounds, Im definitely stealing Joranis helmet after this. No, not just the helmet, itd be a shame to break up such a lovely set. I want it all. Wiping the blood from my eyes, I heal my injury while fending off my latest foe, another towering bandit with blood-shot eyes. Heavenly Water bro, you made a turtle grow huge, right? Please, Im not asking for much, just twenty centimetres taller and like fifty kilos of muscle, thats all I need.

My request goes unanswered as my guest ignores me, doing whatever it is that water does to pass the time. I miss Baledagh, battles were so much easier with him around. On my own, I can barely Hone, heal and keep my Aura going, my mind occupied on staying alive. No Reinforcement, too chaotic for Amplification, and my opponents arent predictable enough to Deflect. I still haven't figured out how I got my mysterious boost of energy during the duels at the Wall, but thats something to worry about another time. Lacking all those tools, Im little better than your average soldier, aside from being durable. Dont get me wrong, durability is pretty useful for keeping me alive, plus it allows me to take riskier actions most standard warriors would avoid, which means I tend to catch my opponents off guard. Unfortunately, the downside of being durable is I have to get hurt, or Id just be wasting my advantage.

Gritting my teeth at the jarring impact, I slide Peace through metal, flesh, and bone, my opponent gasping in confusion as his body slumps to the ground, his spine neatly severed. Leaving him to bleed out, I clear out the remaining Defiled, and seeing no new opponents approaching, I enjoy the brief calm while I can. Panting for breath, the stench of death makes me heave and gag, the taste of copper blood heavy on my tongue. Most of it isnt mine, but Im not sure if that makes it better or worse.

So far, the plan is going well despite not using any fancy Chi skills or Elemental Blessing, just good old fashioned guts, steel, and teamwork. Argat and Jochi guard my flanks while Jianghong and Tursinai continue their exchange, the former shifting away from Argats constant barrage of dead bodies, sticking closer to Kaliyan. Tasteless though it may be, corpse-bombing a man in the middle of a duel seems highly effective. We just need to keep doing what were doing, pushing in the flank and putting pressure on the two Defiled leaders. If were lucky, their rank and file will collapse and the two former Bannermen will clean up. Even in the worst-case scenario, well have plenty of opportunities to poke at Jianghong as he retreats. Thats the whole point of bringing spears after all, and my borrowed Sentinels are performing admirably.

The Defiled bandits stand and watch my little trio, waiting to see if we take our next step, bringing us past the halfway mark between Jianghong and Tursinai. Wholly content to stand and rest, I steady my breathing and glance at the cloudless sky. A little rain would be nice, help wash away all this blood and put a damper on Gens pyrotechnics. Unlikely, but a man can dream after all. Then again, Im not sure we even have to worry about Gen for awhile, Mila kicked his shit in real good. Thats my girl. Shed be pretty useful in a bind like this, tossing her spear out and calling it back over and over again. Thats a trick Id love to learn. Or maybe I should be like Tenjin and carry like a metric tonne of knives.

Catching wind of my delaying tactic, the Defiled find their courage and charge, still only bringing three to the fight. Idiots, they'd take fewer casualties if they sent more soldiers to distract Tursinai, but none of them are willing to throw their lives against her. Oh well, no rest for the weary, so once more into the fray I go. Surging forward, I plunge Peace into the foremost bandits chest while Tranquility distracts his friend on the left. With the bandit still squirming on my sword, I use his mass to pin the third bandit to the rail, earning a punch to the jaw for all my troubles. Jochis spear plunges through the flailing bandits neck and I turn just in time to watch Argat send another corpse arcing through the air to land at Jianghongs feet.

Snarling as he moves back, Jianghong turns his attention to us, his dark, piercing eyes promising all manner of wrath and vengeance, but Tursinai is ready and waiting. Using his momentary distraction, she launches her sickle straight out towards Jianghongs face, knocking him back with the powerful thrust. At the same time, her chain circles around in a wide curve on a collision course with the back of Tenjins head. My stomach clenches in fear at her apparent mistake, but at the last second, Tenjin ducks under the weighted chain which hammers home into Kaliyans face. Her head snaps back with a thunderous crack, sending a spray of blood up into the air. Leaving nothing to chance, Tenjins short swords pierce through her armour and sink deep into her chest. With a short, shuddering gasp, the infamous seductress falls limply against Tenjin, her formerly beautiful face a pulpy mess of blood and bone.

As if her death were some prearranged signal, my Sentinels roar and charge as one, shaking the Defiled from their stupor and into a mass rout. Like a mad dog fighting for scraps, I dive in head first, cutting down bandits as they turn to flee, my heart racing at the prospect of victory. In a whiteout of rage and fury, I raise my sword and shield again and again, slaughtering my enemies as they flee before me. Showing no mercy, I sound the charge across the bridge, leading soldiers and Sentinels alike to strike at the chaotic Defiled lines, showing them what it means to stand against the Bekhai.

I am Falling Rain, Warrant Officer of the Empire, Sentinel of the People.

This is my country, and though Id rather be home safe and sound, I will fight to defend it, and others will follow.

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