Chapter 530

Chapter 530

Floof.

Thick, warm, wonderful floof, with a rough outer coat of waterproof hair over a bed of short underfuzz. Then, once through the soft, dense fur is a layer of smooth, supple skin, anchored to a springy layer of fat and tough, wiry muscle to really sink your fingers into. Its been too long since Ive enjoyed this velvety sensation on my hands and face, and so help me god, I dont intend to go another day without experiencing it ever again.

Oh how I missed scritching and snuggling my floofs, even the unappreciative ones like grumpy Zabu here.

Now, most would view this insignificant and negligible recovery as a waste of precious resources, but I see this as an absolute win. Ive no clue how I did what I did, but Im glad I did it. For too many months now, Blackjack, Mama Bun, and the bun-bun bunch were my only source of floofy cuddles, but now my personal hell has come to an end. I cant wait to gather up all my floofs in one big pile, the wildcats, quins, bears, and maybe even a few cattle, and hug them until theyre sick of me.

And once they are, Ill chase them down and hug them some more, because non-consensual floof cuddles are even better. My thirst for floofs knows no bounds, so my floofs shall suffer my attentions until such a time when I am suitably sated.

...

After the battle, of course.

...

Assuming Im still alive.

...

And all my floofs are still alive.

...

And were all safe in one spot. Preferably Sinuji.

...

Okay Rain. Floof is awesome, but its time to get your head into the game. Stop molesting Zabu and focus. Youre better now, kinda sorta, and you could possibly be in position to maybe lend a hand, or at the very least, not get in the way. You either converted ambient Energy of the Heavens into Chi without the use of your Core, or the Chi Tea you drank last week Cleansed a whole bunch of Spectres and turned them into a finite amount of usable Heavenly Energy, which you then used to Orate your experiences to every man woman and child in Sinuji. Ugh, now everyone knows about what happened with Qing Qing. I dont like this. What if some stranger comes up and wants to talk about it? That would be the worst. Wait, are there actually children in the fort? God, I hope not, because that would actually be worse.

Okay, now there are the lives of theoretical children at stake here, as well as my fur-babies and loved ones, like Lin-Lin and I suppose Luo-Luo, not to mention everyone else currently inhabiting Sinuji, as well as the countless citizens depending on us to hold the Defiled tide back. No pressure. So where was I?

Right. While I ascribe to the Chi Tea theory, considering I just gave away my last two gourds, theres nothing I can do about it if this is the case. Instead, I should focus on the minute possibility that Dastan was right and I achieved One with the Self while telling the story of how I met Gen, and shortly after, became One with the World and Developed a Domain sans Chi. Im not optimistic about my chances, but I should at least give it a try. Worst case scenario, nothing happens and I remain as utterly useless as I am right now, so really, what do I have to lose?

Okay, so... how do I do what I did? And how can I do something more productive, like say... I dunno, put on a hundred kilograms of body mass? Then again, if Im asking for miracles, I might as well swing for the fences. Go big or go home. Ill take flash floods, erupting geysers, fucking hydrogen bombs even if the Mother is willing, anything that will deal with the many, many survivors of the Defiled Army headed my way.

...Healing can probably fix nuclear radiation poisoning, right?

Boy. Cutting my flustered inner-monologue short with a Sending, Ghurdas tone leaves no room for debate. Get your people back. Now.

Being the contrary idiot that I am, my first instinct is of course to argue once again that Dastan and the others deserve to have first crack at the Defiled, but after tearing my eyes away from Zabus floofy back, I immediately understand where shes coming from. In my haze of floof-fuelled introspection, I somehow failed to notice that not only is the Defiled horde charging headlong at Sinuji, but theyre also being spearheaded by not one, not three, but twelve Demons that I can see, meaning there are undoubtedly more lurking Concealed in the shadows.

In my defence, the Sound Barrier is still up and my feet arent touching the ground to feel the trembling, which means its not entirely fair or accurate to blame my distraction on my overzealous love of all things floofy. Only mostly.

Urging Zabu to hop ahead, I rein in his enthusiastic charge before he goes running headlong off the wall. Hammered by a wave of sound brought about by hundreds of thousands of stomping boots, I yell as loudly as I can to get Dastans attention and pray they can hear me over the commotion. Soldiers of Falling Rain, stand down and gather on me! Somehow hearing me despite the clamour, (or more likely because Ghurda reiterates my orders through Sending), Dastan and the Death Corps back away from the parapets and leave a thirty-meter-long section of the wall unguarded.

They got this shit on lock-down.

Unfortunately, the battle does not go entirely our way as Pudge sends yet another Bannerman to join Mengu and Yarug, this time the unsociable, amber-eyed spearman, Naaran. Older than Baatar but still spry as any other Bannerman, the aged Warrior cradles his broken arm and settles down to recuperate while Kuang Biao heads in unasked to take his place. I always thought Naaran didnt like me, but to be fair, it seemed like he hated everyone else as well, and hes here giving it his all to keep me alive, which counts for something. He even offers an almost smile before closing his eyes to meditate, so strained and unnatural it makes me wonder if hes smiled at anyone in the last half-century, or possibly longer.

Cunning monsters that they are, the Demons are no longer throwing themselves at the wall, but instead hanging back to probe for openings. Six have split off, three to either side, but Hideo and Tam Taewoong both have their Experts defending them, and for now it appears as if both sides are locked in stalemates. Pudge remains front and centre to pressure the Bannermen with his bullets of water, but its a second Demon which proves most difficult for my guardians to handle. A dark figure cloaked in a billowing cape of writhing blades, the skull-faced Demon is difficult to keep track of as he moves side to side so quickly its almost as if he can blink in and out of existence. Wherever he appears, he unleashes a flurry of darting tentacles in the area before him, forcing three to five Bannermen to defend against his sudden attack. While his blades are easy enough to Deflect, Skull-Face is not alone as Pudge times his bullets with Skull-Faces distraction to launch attacks at exposed targets. Thats how Mengu went down, then Naaran after, and from the looks of things, its only a matter of time before the fat, water-logged bastard claims another victim, perhaps this time to more fatal results.

As more of the Bannermen fall back and are replaced by Death Corps guards, it becomes clear that we cant hold the outer wall, not as we are, not without support. There are eighteen Peak Experts in my section alone, with at least four with Hideo and two with Tam Taewoong, but it is far from enough. Turning to Watanabes mouthpiece, I wave aside the soldiers Masahige tasked to guard him and say, Send a request for assistance, and failing that, then a request to withdraw. The outer wall will not hold for much longer before this sustained assault. Then go take Kharnates place, the one with the twin hatchets; hes bleeding too much to keep fighting.

I dont take orders from you. Though defiant, I can see the fear in his eyes and posture, all but cringing before me as he stops himself short of calling me cripple. Granted, it probably has more to do with Zabus toothy snarl lingering over his head than my less-than-intimidating presence, but Ill take what I can get.

Leaning forward to look him in the eyes, I say, Im assuming youre a Martial Warrior worth your salt, so Ill ask once. You have a better suggestion? Without waiting for an answer, I snarl and poke him in the chest, jamming my finger against his hard breastplate and using the pain to fuel my anger. Then quit fucking around and get to it soldier, or Ill kill you myself.

Praying he doesnt call my bluff, I bring Zabu around and do my best to direct the battle, but there isnt much for me to do besides shout empty platitudes and encouragement. Luckily, Watanabes mouthpiece has enough sense to obey, and Kharnate soon falls back with a wild look in his eyes and a deep burning to return to the battle. Grasping onto every last string I can, I pat Dastan on the shoulder and pull him back before he leaps into the fray on a misunderstanding. Not your turn yet, soldier. Need your help. Give me a quick refresher on this One with the Self business?

Impatience gives way to delight as Dastan follows my train of thought, because I dont think theres anyone more eager for my recovery than him. Its a long shot, but if I can actually deploy my Domain without Chi and use it to convert Heavenly Energy, then maybe I can lend some meagre effort to the defence, and its not like Im doing anything else in the meantime anyways. Of course, he stammers, before grabbing my wrist to switch to Sending. Its a simple enough concept, but difficult to maintain. One with the Self isnt just about merging with your Natal Soul, but about accepting the truths of ones Path. Its about self-affirmation and taking pride in ones actions, of accepting a cause and putting your entire being behind it.

My lack of comprehension speaks for itself and Dastan deflates in defeat, only to swell up and try again with a different tack. Let me tell you about how I achieved One with Self. As you know, my Natal Soul is a stunted, deformed version of myself, with a body which fits in the palm of my hand and a head three size too large for it. It took days to form this Natal Soul alongside the beginnings of my Natal Palace, so at first, I believed my paltry Natal Soul would grow in time as I progressed along the Martial Path, but I was wrong. Its size was not limited because of my lacking strength or comprehension, but because I myself suppressed its size for reasons which became clear to me over time.

Drawing himself up to full height, Dastan looks up at me atop Zabu, only a hand-span taller than my 175 cm frame. Know this for truth: you are the best man I know, he says out loud, unashamed to admit it, And even without my Oaths, I would serve you as loyally as I do now, for I truly believe you to be the Mothers Chosen Son. While I try my best not to blush or laugh it off, Dastan continues, However, this does not mean I do not dream of freedom and independence, an impossible dream of casting off my deplorable status as traitor and slave to become Dastan Zhandos, soldier and hero once again. Seeing the pity in my eyes, he smiles and shakes his head. Its okay. Ive come to accept my lot in life, even enjoy it, because you treat me as friend and comrade, not slave and subordinate. Ive also accepted that my dreams will never come to pass, but I am no longer ashamed of it, for what living being does not yearn for freedom?

Switching back to Sending, he continues, My Natal Soul is paltry and weak because he embodies my innermost desires, the dreams I cannot achieve yet can never let go. It was different for BoShui because even though his Natal Soul also embodied his innermost desires, his dreams are within his reach, while mine utterly impossible. Even then, I continue to hold these dreams, aspire to them, and hope that through some miracle of miracles, I can someday realize them, because I am myself, and I am my Natal Soul. Shrugging, he simply concludes out loud, I am Dastan Zhandos, soldier, dreamer, slave, and traitor. Such is life.

That isnt all you are, I say, reaching out to clasp his hand. In my eyes, you are Dastan Zhandos, friend and hero, and never forget it.

Smiling at the affirmation, we share a quiet moment together before he coughs and looks away, no doubt to hide the manly tears streaming from his eyes. As for you, he Sends, sounding hesitant for the first time, I may have a theory to offer, if you are willing to hear it.

Go ahead. Not like I have any better place to start.

Your story... Dastan begins, stopping to take a deep breath even though hes Sending and doesnt need it to speak. Though I felt nothing supernatural about it like Li Song implies, I too sensed your emotions as you told your story, and... I think you cling too tightly to the past. My mouth dries and throat clenches shut, but I nod at him to continue, which he does with great reluctance. You dont entirely accept what happened, because you believe you could have changed the outcome. You take responsibility for Qing Qings death and regret you couldnt save her, but even if you could have, its already in the past. Patting my shoulder, he sighs and Sends, Shes gone, my friend, and you need to let go of your guilt and forgive yourself for her death.

I cant let go because it was my fault. Welp, no point denying it now. If Id been smarter, more caring, more supportive, she wouldve stayed with me instead of running back to check on her fellow villagers. Shaking my head to deny Dastans rebuttal, the words flow out without filter. She was a sweet girl who still cared for the people who rejected her, people who I barely cared enough about to ask for their names. I freed those villagers and sent them on their way without so much as a goodbye. Not because I couldnt help them, but because I couldnt be bothered to. Why should I risk my life for strangers who hated me and Qing-Qing? Thats how I felt. They brought their fates down on themselves, so I had to look after the one person who mattered, and in doing so, I doomed my benefactor to an early grave.

I am Rain, and I am Baledagh, and both of us are massive fuck-ups.

Before Dastan can respond, Ghurdas Sending sounds in my mind. Idiot boy. Run!

The tears drain from my eyes as I look over to the battle, just in time to see a massive, airborne Pudge sailing in my direction. Carried forward by a surging wave of water, his pasty, water-logged form blots out the nights sky as Bannermen weapons bounce off his Water Shield and skin like raindrops on metal sheet. Though lacking a mouth save for the giant, vertical cavity running down his chest, his white, sightless orbs almost seem to smile as he points a finger in my direction and sends a spear of Water hurtling unerringly towards my chest, an attack which arrives before me in the blink of an eye and leaves me with only two raised hands to stop it from piercing through my heart.

Well, fuck.

...

On the bright side, maybe todays the day I discover Im stuck in an infinite time loop. Who knows. Stranger things have happened.

Chapter Meme