Chapter 154

Chapter 154

Clanging his weapons together in rhythm, Baledagh eyed the bandit chieftain, eager to test his mettle but leery of charging out into open ground, the bandits awakened from their grotesque revelry. Though he gave up the initiative by remaining close to the shack, his instincts warned him against crossing blades with Laughing Dragon in single combat, much less outnumbered and surrounded in open battle. The handsome and well-groomed older gentleman seemed out-of-place amidst the blood and carnage, dressed in an embroidered cotton outfit, sporting an enviable, manly moustache hanging past his chin. Looking every bit the part of an honourable mercenary, if not for the blood smeared across his face and the crazed look in his eyes, Baledagh might have thought him a bystander, somehow caught up in this mess.

Arms still spread in welcome, Laughing Dragon stood silently, staring with head tilted and lips pursed. Reaching up, he stroked his moustache, studying Baledagh like a puzzle to be solved. After a long pause, he shrugged and smiled, speaking in a lazy drawl, unperturbed by the situation. Ah, whatever. Ye offering challenge are ye? Think yerself strong enough to lead my Firebrands? Haha, I swear, kids these days don't understand the immensity of heaven and earth. Shaking his head, he drew his weapon and rested it on his shoulder, waving Baledagh forward without a hint of apprehension. Come boy, let Uncle Dragon teach you some manners. Be warned though, a dragon uses its full strength even when hunting a rabbit. Don't disappoint me, try to stay alive.

Caution warred against desire for battle, but Baledagh's enthusiasm won out, stepping out across the ruined wall. Truth be told, he didn't mean to expose himself so soon, only killing fifteen bandits and saving less than a handful of villagers. Stronger than ever and over-eager to finish the fight, Baledagh accidentally kicked a bandit clean through a wooden wall. Flimsy though it was, he'd never have been able to perform such a feat of strength before his convalescence.

Something was different about these bandits, each of their deaths accompanied by an addictive rush of power, and Baledagh grew in strength with every kill. Hungry for his next victim, he'd almost forgotten about the villagers, but things worked out better this way. Most of the ones he'd found were too injured to move or raving mad from their pain, and he gave them mercy, their lives too weak to provide any sustenance. Now, he'd found almost two dozen uninjured villagers cowering in the courtyard, glancing at him with hope-filled eyes.

Saving them would be more than enough to pacify his irritating conscience, that fussy little voice in his head which claimed he was to blame for all this. Putting it out of mind, he strode towards his worthy adversary, Laughing Dragon directing his bandits to make way, spreading them out around the square. Strewn about were villagers in various stages of mangled mutilation, their pitiful cries bringing a frown to his face. Distasteful to take such pleasure in so pointless an act. If the bandits were after information or toying with a deserving foe he might understand, but what sport was there in torturing the weak for no gain? Shoving aside a bandit blocking his path, he cut the throat of a screaming villager, the tortured cries coming to an abrupt end. He wasn't a hero or saviour, only able to grant mercy and vengeance.

The bandit responsible scowled and spit in contempt, oblivious of Baledagh's sword until it hacked into his head, splattering his blood across the ground. The kill relieved some of his frustrations, filling him with energy as he smiled at the surrounding bandits, daring them to approach. Flies, every last one of them, he'd taken their measure and found them lacking, no match for the Great Baledagh. Killing them would be as simple as turning over his hand, and if not for Laughing Dragon, he would have slaughtered the bandits to a man, delighting in their fearful cries as they struggled uselessly to escape their fate, fodder for him to consume.

Well look at that, ain't you some hot shit? So yer Baledagh, heard much about ye. Gen didn't say nothing about a spiritual weapon though. Rather than alarmed or upset, Laughing Dragon seemed indifferent to the death of his lackey, stretching lazily with saber in hand. His piercing-brown eyes gave away his true feelings, controlled rage swimming beneath the surface. Now, why are you here? I was told you left a day ago, was I lied to? The villagers trembled and cried as he glanced at them, all of them proclaiming their innocence as if it mattered at all.

You worthless shit-sac of a Defiled beast, your life ends today. Settling into a familiar posture, Baledagh extended Tranquility forward, his sword held at his side as he stood ready to charge. The name of the Forms came unbidden to his mind, Balance on Windy Leaf and Pierce the Horizon, brother's favoured opening. Wary of a counter attack, he held in place, studying Laughing Dragon who appeared at ease, weapon resting on his shoulder as he waited.

Chuckling, the bandit leader shook his head. No wonder Gen hates you, yer a cocky son of a bitch, ain't you? So let me guess, you think you had a claim on these villagers? Don't like me taking what's yours, do ye? Well let me explain something. Without a change in bearing, Laughing Dragon changed from affable madman to dangerous adversary, radiating threat and menace without effort. I'm the same way. Ye killed at least three of my boys, likely more since you got so deep without sounding the alarm, so I'm gonna teach you a lesson. Palm up, he curled his fingers towards him in invitation. Come on, enough foreplay. This daddy's gonna give you a beating.

In an instant, his presence became overbearing, terror given flesh, a palpable ambience of dread emanating around him. Barely able to breathe, Baledagh shivered in place, the icy hand of fear clutching his heart, reminiscent of his match against Zian, except this time brother wasn't here to save them. An oppressive, invisible force bore down on him as he helplessly watched his opponent advance, a slow ambling gait, turning back and forth before him in exhibition as the other bandits laughed and cheered.

That's our boss, beat him black and blue!

Ha, looks like the little cocksucker's ready to piss his pants.

Ain't no match for the Laughing Dragon once the Aura comes out, ye worthless little shit.

Fucking Aura. Unfair. Brother, please help, I need you.

Slipping into the shadows, he ran deeper into the forests, avoiding the villagers. Favouring his half-healed injuries, he walked back to camp, humming beneath his breath.

Qing-Qing would be worried; it was almost time for lunch.

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Absently poking the fire, Gen stared around the dismal hut in wonder. How did Qing-Qing stand living in this shit hole for so long? A cramped, musty interior with no windows, the patter of rain was deafening. Stupid bitch, he'd offered her the world and she scorned him for a worthless bandit. She would regret that decision once he found her, he'd make sure of it. Returning his attention to the flames, he watched them dance and flicker in the fireplace, endless hunger personified, devouring all within its path. Waving his hand close, the flames seemed drawn to him, swaying with the motion in hypnotic fashion. So beautiful.

A pained sob interrupted his musings and he glanced over his handiwork, the fear in Bei's eyes delicious and arousing. Foolish little Bei, always lusting after me. Well how lucky for you, I've accepted you now. Aren't you happy? Chuckling, he removed the red-hot iron from the flames and returned to her side, her miserable mewls of terror amusing him to no end. He'd removed her tongue first, which was regretful. Listening to her plead and beg was enjoyable, but the stupid bitch kept trying to remind him of the weakling he used to be, angering him to no end.

Grabbing her chin, he turned her face left and right, enjoying his handiwork. The right side was beautiful and untouched, if a little messy from all the crying, but lovely nonetheless, while the left was a masterpiece of patterned burns, the skin melted in hideous deformation. A shame he didn't have a mirror to show her his work, Bei always loved to compliment his efforts.

The pleading intensified in pitch as she struggled in his grasp, the hot iron closing in on her jaw to continue the pattern downwards. Hovering over her skin, he relished the moment before the pain, Bei straining with all her might to escape, helpless and exposed before him. His intent was to pepper the entire left side of her body, leaving half her beauty so it was more pronounced each time she glimpsed her reflection. She was a vain girl, thinking herself beautiful, her arrogance earning her his scorn in the past, but now, he used it to his advantage. Seeing the ugliness would throw her into despair, soon ready to accept the truth of the world.

Besides, the oozing, bleeding skin beneath the burns wasn't so hideous, almost enticing the more he gazed upon it.

The door burst open and he snarled at the intruder, throwing aside the iron to cover Bei with a blanket. She belonged to him and only him, no one else was fit to see her. Laughing Dragon stood in the doorway, shivering from the cold as he bled, a sword embedded in his shoulder. Time to run, yer fucking Baledagh is a damned monster.

Forget it, you aren't his match. He damn near killed me back there, there's something wrong with him, I don't understand it. We need to leave, the villagers know we're Defiled and they've escaped. Should have given the order to slaughter them before leaving, but I fucked up. We'll go north, cross the road and head towards Shen Mu, try to join up with our comrades from beyond the Bridge.

Laughing Dragon rambled on as Gen stared in amazement, the formerly powerful bandit leader nothing more than a pup, soaked and scared, ready to run for the hills. Reaching out, he grabbed the sword hilt and ripped it out in one smooth motion, laughing as the thrum of power surged through his body. Soaked in the deaths of the bandits, the weapon had absorbed their natural energies and now, those energies were Gen's to wield. Grabbing Bei, he pushed Laughing Dragon aside, ignoring the wounded bandit's accusations and insults to circle around the village, holding her close while patiently waiting.

He felt the bandits leave, running away with their tails between their legs, and still he continued to wait, his chin resting on Bei's shoulder, enjoying her pained spasms as he rubbed cheeks with her. The rough, unhealed skin comfortable against his and he hummed quietly, resisting the urge to continue his play. There was work to be done now, and Laughing Dragon could no longer be relied upon. Pa always used to say, a job was best done with your own two hands.

Soon, he spotted his quarry running north into the woods and he giggled in delight. Baledagh had the energy within him, vindicating Gen's discovery of the truth. Even better, he carried a bandit weapon on him, the energy marking him firmly in Gen's mind. Following him back to Qing-Qing was now as simple as turning his hand, and with a few minutes to spare, he kissed Bei on the cheek, lapping up the blood and pus oozing out. Oh how wonderful. Maybe I can't defeat him in single combat, but I can kill him while he sleeps. Then it will be me, you, and Qing-Qing, all reunited together again. After giving Baledagh a few minutes head start, he carefully followed Baledagh with Bei in tow, giddy from imagining the scene of his vengeance over and over again.

What a wonderful day, freed from his conscience and a chance to right all the wrong in his life.

Chapter Meme