Chapter 64

Chapter 64

What do you mean you've lost them? They're a bunch of ignorant Defiled!

Cho Jin Kai raged at his new subordinate, some no-name, paper tiger of a Major, an incompetent buffoon. The heavens seemed adamant to work against him, the Mother no longer smiling upon him. It had all began when he first laid eyes on that bitch, Akanai. Since then, nothing had worked in his favor. First, he had been ordered to fight for this hell pit of a province, away from true civilization. Then, his brother had been driven from the Society, losing thousands of gold in property over something that should have been so simple. A few savages are beaten soundly in the contest, no one would have looked twice. Instead, those bastards had run rampant through the preliminaries, and now the entire province was talking of their exploits. Worse, his family's holdings within the Society had been confiscated, costing them tens of thousands of gold in property and goods, over allegations of match fixing. When he returned to the Central province he would require an armed escort, just to make sure he did not run afoul of Society blackguards.

Now, this incompetent Major, Vicar or Vichy, some northern barbarian name, was telling him they lost sight of the Defiled they had been chasing for days, as if they suddenly sprouted wings, and flew off into the air. Maddening. These worthless northern soldiers. His own company had been taken away by that bitch while he lay recovering from his injuries, and the Marshal had reprimanded him, an elderly man, not even a warrior, yet he still had the gall to look down upon a Brigadier. Kai had earned his rank, killed a Demon in close combat with his bardiche, his strength further proven by his exploits against the beasts and rebels of the Central Plains. He had worked his way up to the rank of Brigadier through life and death duels, as the Eastern nobility did, emulating them in his rise to power. His father was only a merchant, but Kai had dreamed of so much more.

His dreams would have to wait, seeing as he stood in some dark forest, chasing shadows, freezing despite his layers of clothes underneath his metal armor, saddled with 15,000 worthless incompetents. All this just to pursue cowards who fled from the battlefield, moving deep into the northwestern forests, where no one of value lived. His mission should have been to retake the fortress, or aid in the subjugation of the Defiled army still at large. It was a disgrace to be chasing these dregs, and one he would remember and repay.

Every scout was caught and killed. By the time we realized, the trail was lost. Yes, Vichear was his name, a half-beast imbecile, it was a wonder he could dress himself. Large and lumbering, dumb as a rock, his bear blood did nothing for his wits, only giving him a uselessly large frame. It took humans to lead, true humans, and half-beasts soldiers should only follow orders, and nothing more. It was uncivilized, allowing the cretins to run about unchained, even giving them rank, all due to the half-beast loving Marshal, Shing Du Yi.

Get out there and find them. Use every available tracker and scout we have. If you cannot find their trail by evening, I'll have you whipped for dereliction of duty. Kai dismissed the Major with a wave of his hand, returning to his warmed tent, where his servants had a pot of tea waiting. At least that bitch had left his household staff, only taking his soldiers. He grumbled to himself as he sat upon his chair, motioning for another brazier to be brought to him.

This forsaken land was too damned cold. Even now in the midst of summer, a constant breeze of cold air chilled the bones as it rained heavily, and the nights were even worse. Kai desperately wished to return to the warm city of Yantai by the sea, to eat the seafood delicacies of his hometown, hold his concubines in his arms, to laugh and drink with the nobles of the central plains. If it were not for his brother's merchant dealings in Shen Yun and little Toks begging to travel, he would never have come here to this backwater province.Updated from novelb(i)n.c(o)m

These northern barbarians knew nothing of how true citizens of the Empire acted, with the collective manners of a goat and the smell of one to boot. They dressed in fashions outdated for years, with their patterned robes, lacquered nails, and half shaved heads, looking ridiculous. Where were the jade hairpieces, the ornamental bracers, the palanquins, or the perfumes? Their plays were dated and terribly performed, their singers lacking skill, their stages poorly adorned. Their paintings were nonexistent, and even the food was terrible, bland and without spice, an affront to the palate. The entire province should have been abandoned and given over to the Defiled, allowing them to fight it out with the plethora of Ancestral beasts that roamed about. Who would even be left to care? No one of importance.

It was aggravating how little power humans held in the Northern province, all due to their inability to curb the Ancestral Beast population. They ran about unchained, free to attack at any time, carving out their own swathes of land, spitting on the strength of the Emperor. In the civilized Eastern Province, all the Ancestral beasts were chained as soon as possible, using them to spawn the Slave Corps of the Emperor, the way things should be. These Beasts were far too dangerous to be left on their own, not to mention their half-beast spawn. It was a miracle that any cities here stood at all.

After his return he seemed in a terrible mood, always snapping at Master when spoken to, growing increasingly feral once he had tasted blood. Song wished master would order her to cut Rain's throat, end his life in the dark of night, end his suffering. She had heard talk of his work with the deer-woman, Adujan, of their rampage through the Defiled scouts. Even with the roaring fire, the sounds of battle and screams of the dying had sounded, and the two had returned ragged and injured. They had both been assigned to digging latrines for the soldiers each night, but other than that, they had remained unpunished, no beatings or whippings. Odd for a military unit, these Khishigs were far less disciplined than she was accustomed to, with almost no deference shown to superiors, and a lack of social courtesies. No bows or salutes, the most respect they showed was calling the General by title.

Still, now with battle nearing, the Khishigs showed surprising control, each seeming to know their role. They waited for the signal to attack in complete silence, their enemies a short ride down the mountains from them. Song had not been included in the planning, that was for people greater than her, but her master had explained everything to her. A Tiger Fortress filled with bad people for Song to kill, Master's first real task for Song. She wanted to look upon this fortress that was so like the big cats she so envied. Old Master had always scolded her for her low, mongrel birth, for not being a tiger, but Master had a tiger woman companion, fierce and beautiful. Master called her Alsantset, who would always pat Song's ears whenever she passed. Song had watched her kill a half-dozen assailants with a single sweep, only then understanding why old Master was so angry. Song would never be that strong.

Drums began to beat, the Enemy sounding the alarm as armored boots marched towards the fortress. Master began to ride forward and Song stayed close by, gently urging her fearsome mount forward, unlimbering her bow. She carried three quivers of arrows, as did each Khishig, and they moved up over the mountain peak in an orderly fashion, where Song received her first glimpse of the Tiger Fortress. It looked nothing like a tiger, disappointing Song, a place of ruins, the walls in shambles as the dead lay strewn about, decorating the area with their desecrated remains. The entire fortress had been gutted and destroyed, a large open area for the Enemy to march through, and they stood about in the open, screaming a challenge in their guttural tongue.

Following her Master's actions, Song loosed her arrow, along with every other Khishig present, the hiss of their barrage raining down upon the Enemy. Tightly packed and wearing patchwork armor, the Defiled died in the hundreds, if not the thousands. They rode around the peak as she continued to fire death down upon them, until the fortress was no longer in sight. She followed Master at a steady pace, and within a minute, they were turning out over the lip, the Enemy once again before them. The creatures they rode were a great boon in warfare, allowing for travel upon such a steep and high incline. The circular movement was necessary, the creatures unable to simple stand upon the slope, but it was an effective maneuver nonetheless.

As the Khishigs held the attentions of the Enemy, several groups replicating the same maneuver from several locations, firing down from different angles, the soldiers below marched steadily forward towards the fortress. Each pass Song took around the mountain peak saw the soldiers slowly closing upon the Enemy, until on her twelfth revolution, the soldiers roared and charged forward for combat. Master put away her bow, and Song followed suit, drawing her spear as her mount took a gut-wrenching dive down the mountain, her inner organs almost overturning within her. The furred monstrosity ran towards battle, making sounds of delight as it descended upon the enemy, eager for blood and flesh, the Khishigs around her somehow able to move into formation, a tight line of spears held forward. She grasped her spear tightly in her hand, readying herself for the great clash, expecting to be bogged down in melee, hacking and slashing into the seemingly endless horde.

She prepared herself, remembering the all-too-brief training she had received. Loosen the thighs, sit as if squatting, calves relaxed to absorb the impact of the charge. Master expected her to learn just from the description, without setting time for her to practice. Song had little of that lately, as Master was disinclined to set a schedule, and without one, how was Song to know what to do? She took a breath as she neared, the scowling and screaming faces of the enemy coming into vision at a breakneck pace. All too soon, the creature lunged and her weapon crashed into her foe, the ribs impacting upon the crossbar, the body thrown back. Battle was met, as she stabbed and swung at any who approached, the Enemy regretfully held back by the lengths of their spears. Her mount pressed forward, working in unison with her, leaping when she was ready to thrust, backing when an enemy approached, so agile it was as if it knew her thoughts and refused to obey them, teasing her with the lack of danger.

Dismayed by the skill of her mount, Song forgot to keep focus upon Master, almost falling from her seat as it turned away to follow its alpha, every other Khishig moving in unison as well. It was too soon, Song had yet to truly fight. Fear ran through her as she watched Master, looking for an indication of anger or displeasure at Song's mental defiance, fear coursing through her. They rode back, away from the hordes following them, their bows in hand, several riders turning to fire as they escaped. A quick clash, and now they would fade away, fleeing back up the mountainside as the Enemy attempted to close in upon them. She watched, too unskilled to join the others in firing as they retreated, looking around at the rest of Master's companions.

Where is Rain? Master noticed as well, and Song could do nothing but apologize.

This slave has failed you, she is unaware. This slave is prepared for punishment at Master's convenience. Song was largely ignored, thankfully. Master had yet to punish her, and while it was a blessing, at times Song was apprehensive, worried that her infractions were being remembered, and punishment delayed until the war effort over. She was a weapon, and Master was far too clever to break her weapons before battle. She followed Master up the incline, gnawing at her lip, unable to focus on the task at hand. Perhaps fortune would finally favor her, and Song could finally die in the next charge.