The wise commander knows that resources, like spiritual energy, are finite. Victory belongs to those who can accomplish the most with the least.
—Master Lin Feng, Scale of Heaven and Earth
Xiulan spun Severing Light in a defensive arc, but Mei Chen darted through her guard with supernatural speed. The spear yanked free from her grip, clattering across the training yard’s stones.
Two ornate daggers materialized in Xiulan’s hands. Mei Chen prowled the perimeter of their makeshift arena, frost crystals spreading beneath each silent step.
Ming’s harsh laughter echoed off the courtyard walls. "If you can’t beat her how can you protect her? Mei Chen! Perhaps you should remain here at the pavilion where it’s safe!"
"Stop encouraging her!" Xiulan shifted her stance as Mei Chen’s eyes flashed a deeper shade of blue as she gained predatory focus. "She’s already—"
A feral hiss cut through the air. Mei Chen lunged forward, crystalline claws extending from her fingertips mid-strike. Xiulan barely managed to deflect the attack with crossed daggers. The weapons and claws froze together. Xiulan drew a dart and stabbed Mei Chen in the side. A patch of ice sprouted like frozen armor, making the blow useless.
Her meager training was turning out to be nothing against raw supernatural power. She had learned this lesson painfully through three consecutive defeats. Mei Chen possessed no formal combat training, but her wrathful spirit nature granted her devastating instinctual abilities.
A blur of movement caught Xiulan’s attention. Mei Chen surged forward in an impossible rush. The impact sent vibrations through her arms. Before she could counter, Mei Chen twisted, using the weapons as leverage. A leg swept up and slammed into Xiulan’s ribs.
Pain exploded through her side, but Xiulan maintained her grip on the frozen daggers. She planted her feet and swung hard with both arms, attempting to throw Mei Chen off balance. Mei moved with the momentum instead of fighting it. Her body spun with unnatural grace, applying brutal torque to Xiulan’s wrists. The daggers tore free despite Xiulan’s best efforts.
Fuck!
The daggers thudded into the dirt. Mei Chen pounced with predatory intent, slamming into Xiulan’s chest. They crashed to the ground together, Mei Chen’s weight pinning Xiulan at the waist.
Sharp claws—gently, somehow gently—dug into Xiulan’s shoulders as Mei Chen pinned her against the cold stone. A low, predatory growl rumbled from deep within Mei Chen’s chest.
"You win again." Xiulan wrapped her arms around Mei Chen’s torso and pulled her into a tight embrace.
Mei Chen yelped in surprise. The crystalline claws dissolved into droplets, pattering against the courtyard stones. Xiulan shifted her weight, dragging Mei Chen into a sitting position without breaking the hug.
"Look at that—the fearsome wrathful spirit’s greatest weakness." Xiulan’s laughter echoed across the training yard.
A deep crimson flush spread across Mei Chen’s pale features. "Miss, that’s not fair!"
Ming stared at them with an unimpressed expression. "I doubt hugging the enemy into submission will prove an effective battlefield tactic."
"Let’s hope House Chao hasn’t recruited any wrathful spirits to their cause." Xiulan brushed dirt from her robes as she and Mei stood.
"The likelihood approaches zero." Ming crossed her arms.
Xiulan retrieved Severing Light from where it had fallen, then collected her scattered daggers. The ornate blades glinted in the afternoon sun. "I believe we’ve had enough combat practice for today..."
Earlier practice sessions had proven more productive, at least. Xiulan twirled two iron darts between her fingers, recalling the miniature lightning strikes she’d created. The thunderous cracks had echoed through Blackmere, sending startled shouts from the streets outside the Treasure Pavilion’s training grounds.
A simplified version of ’Thunder God Splits the Sky and Fucks You Up,’ but effective. The darts provided reliable range, and the area effect proved impressive—spanning from two to ten meters depending on how much qi she channeled into the paired weapons.
It was exactly the type of improved technique she needed for what was coming.
Ming accepted a wooden tablet from a servant, scanning its contents. "Eleven cultivators have registered for hire." She glanced up at Xiulan. "Would you prefer to interview them personally, or shall I handle the arrangements?"
Xiulan sheathed her remaining daggers. "Take care of it unless someone noteworthy appears." She adjusted the weight of Severing Light across her back. "The city defenses need attention, and I should check on the draft preparations."
"Integrate the conscripts with our two thousand regular guards. Use the veterans to train the new recruits—they already know our protocols and formations."
"What about the civil defense?"
"Keep five thousand in reserve for firefighting and damage control. We’ll need them when the siege starts." Xiulan straightened from the table. "Has there been any word from my family’s city manor guards? Or House Manager Han Shun?"
Liu Bao’s shoulders tensed. "Only rumors. The guards reportedly fled while being pursued by the enemy cultivators. They split into smaller groups—" He hesitated. "One group was cut down. The others vanished. No confirmation if they found sanctuary or..."
The memory of discovering her mother’s butchered platoon flashed through Xiulan’s mind. The stench of death, the flies, the vacant eyes staring skyward. She pressed her palm against the rough wood of the table, steadying herself.
"Or if they’re lying dead in a ditch somewhere," Xiulan finished quietly.
Liu Bao straightened his leather armor. "I can send scouts to search for Han Shun and the others. We have a few riders to spare—"
"No." Xiulan shook her head. "We need every person focused on the defense. Just ensure the regular scouts know to watch for them during their patrols."
"Understood, Miss Lin." Liu Bao made a note in his ledger.
Xiulan rubbed her temples. The nagging sensation of a critical oversight gnawed at her thoughts. The cultivators. She’d left their recruitment entirely to Ming Lihua. That might have been a mistake.
It was by far the most important point of the defense.
Ming possessed years of experience evaluating people and negotiating contracts. The senior disciple knew how to spot deception, how to gauge character. Still, delegating such a crucial task...
Xiulan glanced over her shoulder. Mei Chen stood perfectly still, hands folded, the very picture of an attentive servant. Beneath that demure exterior lurked supernatural power and unwavering loyalty. True friends were rare.
So...
Trust Ming’s choices but observe and adjust if necessary. It was a plan.
"Captain Liu." Xiulan straightened from the table. "Keep me informed of any developments with the defense preparations."
Liu Bao snapped to attention and saluted. "Yes, Miss Lin!"
Xiulan turned back toward the Treasure Pavilion’s towering silhouette. "Come, Mei Chen. Let’s see what cultivators have answered our call."
A short while later they pushed open the doors to the Treasure Pavilion’s meeting hall. Ten cultivators sat in a semicircle before Ming, who stood at a polished wooden podium. Weren’t there supposed to be eleven?
"—expect full compliance with defensive protocols." Ming gestured to a map of Blackmere spread across the wall. "The county faces an imminent attack from House Chao forces."
The assembled cultivators presented a stark contrast in appearances and cultivation styles. A burly man with ritual scars traced across his arms sat next to a willowy woman in scholarly robes. Twin brothers in matching green tunics flanked a weathered veteran whose qi rippled with barely contained fire. The remaining cultivators ranged from a teenage girl with wind-tousled hair to a elderly man whose wooden staff thrummed with earth energy.
Several heads turned as Xiulan entered. Their gazes lingered on Mei Chen, who radiated yin despite the safety seal at her throat. A few hands drifted toward weapon hilts.
Ming stepped away from the podium. "Allow me to introduce Lin Xiulan, who commissioned this defensive force."
"This slip of a girl?" The scarred cultivator spat on the floor. "We’re supposed to take orders from someone barely into Body Refinement?"
"The Treasure Pavilion guarantees our payment." The scholarly woman adjusted her spectacles. "That’s what matters."
Xiulan suppressed a sigh. She should have anticipated the reaction from mercenary cultivators. Their disdain rolled off them in waves of hostile qi.