Chapter 230

Chapter 230

Yo Lings disgust for his underlings continued to grow as Sanshus defenders ran roughshod over his Butchers, a bunch of worthless, good-for-nothing slackers. Hed toiled for years securing the necessary resources in order to equip them with the best armour and weapons, countless hours of sweat and effort, training and moulding them into warriors, yet they still couldnt be trusted to deal with the Armys dregs. No, not even dregs, the majority of Sanshus defenders were mere guardsmen, trash who failed to meet the already low standards of the army, just barely more than a core and a pulse.

Now, these rejects were dominating the battlefield, his elite Butchers comprised of nothing but shrimp soldiers and crab generals. Hed been blinded by his hubris, expecting societys outcasts and scum to reach the Heavens in a single bound with only his guidance, but it was as useless as drawing legs on a snake. Had he known they would fail so spectacularly, he wouldnt have bothered arming them so well, a massive waste of time and resources. As things stood, Xiaobos catapults were barred from firing into the swirling melee for fear of damaging Yo Lings precious armours and weapons, assets still of use to him unlike the incompetents wielding them. Better for them if they died in battle, because the survivors would not enjoy his reward, determined to wash away the shame of mediocrity attached to his name.

No matter, Sanshu would soon fall, freeing him to start anew. Gen would come in handy rebuilding his forces, but the boy was currently a snivelling mess, off in the corner mourning the loss of his wife. With Falling Rain marked for death and likely already dead or dying, Yo Lings only other option for a successor was the Coalitions golden boy, Dastan. Far from the ideal candidate, the boy was every bit as deluded as Gao Qiu but nowhere near as talented, a disappointment in every way.

Why did Yo Ling even need a successor? He still had plenty of years left to live and the entirety of Sanshu to scour for talent, perhaps hed find a crane in a flock of chickens. The Coalitions forces might make for a good starting point, primarily XiaoGong and his personal guards. Xiaobo was a lost cause, nothing but a stooge twisted by the Spirits whispering in his ears for the better part of a decade. No true Enlightened, the councilman was a pet project of his, one of many seeds thrown to wind which sprouted beautifully. While guiding the no-name merchants rise to power, Yo Ling set the Spirits to grind away at Xiaobos willpower and self-discipline, turning him to every debased vice and carnal sin, weakening his resolve bit by bit. Now, the fools brain was so addled by drug and drink, he accepted Yo Lings every whisper as his own thoughts, believing himself still in control. A tool which outstripped even Jianghongs usefulness, although with the unfortunate side effect of turning the man into an unrestrained, disgusting slob. Itd gotten so bad Yo Ling was forced to manage Xiaobos every public appearance these past few years, lest he devolve into another fit of shit-slinging masturbation.

Or worse.

Thankfully, deviant behaviour was often overlooked in the wealthy. With Yo Ling feeding them information, the Coalition grew in power to surpass the Alliance and the Union, hiding their gains and squirrelling them away on his island. Now thanks to all his efforts, victory was finally in sight. With the city cut off from outside contact, once the Magistrate and his soldiers were dealt with, Yo Ling would be free to write his own version of events in Sanshu, spreading word using the Coalitions far-reaching influence. Something close to the truth, like the corrupt Magistrate rebelling against the Empire, slaughtering citizens and councilmen in the streets. Joined by the Corsairs and Bekhai, their dastardly plans were thwarted by an alliance between Jianghong, Xiao Gong, and Butcher Bays heroic Yo Ling.

Turning black to white and up to down with but a flick of the brush, he could hardly contain his glee.Follow current novels at novelhall.com)

The war was not won yet, the Ascendants still holding out against his Transcendents. Not for much longer though, his puppets served their purpose well, wearing down their opponents with endless stamina and solid resilience, not to mention the ever present threat of their corrosive bodily fluids. Red-faced and dripping with sweat, Lei Gong no longer dominated the battlefield, his bursts of lightning few and far between. Freed from the threat of his destructive powers, the Transcendents pushed the Ascendants to the limits, on the verge of breaking the deadlock to emerge victorious. Still wary of Ouyang Yuhuan and her iron rod, Yo Ling turned and chuckled at the sight of the corpulent Magistrates struggles, his jowls quivering as he fought on. With mace in hand, Yo Ling moved towards the Magistrate and the Bekhai, the two forces merging amidst the sea of Butchers, surrounded on all sides yet still desperately striving to reach him.

Their intentions were clear, their fangs bared and claws brandished towards him, staking everything on one throw of the dice in hopes of bringing down the legendary Spectre. Fools and dreamers, but he couldnt deny himself the pleasure of crushing their hopes beneath his heel. The Bekhais charging offensive faltered as his Aura slammed into them, his Butchers parting to let him through. The battle behind him continued to rage, but in front, everything came to a standstill, the silent calm before the storm. Both sides cooperated to make space as he approached, the defenders of Sanshu suffocating beneath his might. Probing their defences with his Aura, Yo Ling picked out those strong enough to resist him, surprised by his findings.

Five Auras too solid to crush, with the possibility of others hiding in wait, far more than expected. The Magistrate was easily handled as was the hefty Bekhai warrior near him, impressively dwarfing the Magistrate in both height and weight. Then there was the burned Bekhai woman wielding a chain and sickle and her dagger-sporting companion, both too young to be of real threat. Last but not least, a familiar, amber-eyed face, the would-be assassin from the restaurant.

These other Bekhai experts forced Yo Ling to rethink his theory regarding these reclusive mountain tribesmen. Between Falling Rain and the amber-eyed assassin, hed entertained the possibility that the Bekhai were fellow Enlightened and could be turned to his cause, but none of the other experts arrayed before him were beloved by the Spirits. A shame, but these piddling few warriors would fall before his might. Leering at them one by one, Yo Ling spread his arms wide in invitation. You fought long and hard to get here, and all for naught. Come, let me show you the meaning of People beyond people, heavens beyond the heavens.

His Butchers cheered at his words, chanting his name in thunderous cadence, the air buzzing with excitement as the Spirits urged him to bloodshed and slaughter. Stepping out to greet him was the would-be assassin, carrying a massive glaive across his shoulders and sword at the hip, relaxed and at ease. With a spinning flourish of his weapon, he slammed the shaft against the stones, the echoing knock silencing the Butchers cheering. I am Senior Captain Gerel, he said, voice brimming with confidence. Khishig of the Bekhai.

Ah, so the nameless assassin has a Name: The Demon Reaper. Yo Ling shook his head, disappointed. This is the best Sanshu has to offer? A beardless, balding man-child with an over-inflated reputation? His Butchers exploded with laughter and he waited for silence before continuing. I already defeated you once boy, and you held every advantage. How do you think youll fare in open combat?

Waiting in silence, Gerel stared daggers at Yo Ling, ignoring the jeers and insults from the crowd. Sanshus defenders stood uneasily, all their hopes resting on the shoulders of this unknown warrior, their knees shaking and shoulders hunched, despair and desperation thick in the air as the Spirits searched for new vessels to inhabit. Perhaps he might even offer them a place in his new army, on the unlikely chance they survived the next few hours. These men and women showed determination and resolve, which is more than he could say about his Butchers.

A thought for another time, as there was work to be done.

The last of his opponents dealt with, Yo Ling turned to take control of the battle just as XiaoGongs Sending reached him. Were under attack at both points! They came out of nowhere, theres too many of them, we cant hold!

Trembling with rage, Yo Ling asked, Who? Who is left in Sanshu to resist?

XiaoGongs answer hit him like a hammer, his shoulders dropping beneath the weight of impending failure. Its the Council! The Alliance and Union have rallied their mercenaries!

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Sweat dripping down his brow, Chao Yong urged the mercenaries forward while hiding in a sturdy stone doorway. Forward! A silver for every Coalition head you take! His voice cracked at the thought of the extra expenditure on top of the sizable upfront payment to secure their services, but he had no choice. Ten gold for XiaoGongs and twenty for the toad Xiaobo! For Sanshu!

The declaration brought a cheer of joy from the mercenaries, greed urging them to heightened fervour, hacking apart their surprised enemies. Humans die in pursuit of wealth as birds die in pursuit of food, but Chao Yong had no intention of dying for either. Were it not for the damned Corsairs holding all his wealth captive, he would have been kilometres away from the city by now, well on his way to Jiu Lang in safety.

Glancing at his armoured captor, Chao Yong pulled out his pocket-watch to check the time and gathered his courage to speak. Though he knew nothing of martial prowess, Chao Yong knew value, and the sky-blue Runic Armour worn by his captor was worth a fortune. Boots, greaves, breastplate, gauntlets, spaulders and helm, buying even a single piece would beggar all but the richest of noble houses, the entire set equal to a year's profit for the Alliance. Even Bastard Liu spoke to the armoured captor with deference, and Chao Yong had no intentions of upsetting such a man.

Clearing his throat, Chao Yong bowed to his captor and remained there, not daring to look up. Is my work to your liking, great one? Ive done everything youve asked, gathering all the mercenaries still left in the city and bringing them here. Im sure my presence is no longer needed, seeing how I'm no warrior. If you could speak with Bas-- Err, the distinguished warrior Liu Shi regarding my boats...

The armoured figure snorted, his voice echoing from behind the faceplate. Bah, keep yer shirt on, the battles only jes started. Still plenty left to do. Anyway, thats a right shiny looking piece. Lemme have a look.

An armoured palm gestured before Chao Yongs face and he cringed while relinquishing the pocket-watch. This is a custom made timepiece ordered at great cost, with one hundred and eight various gemstones used in its construction. Please accept it as my humble gift.

Silly thing, timepieces, but if yer offering then I aint gonna refuse. Never really understood the point of keeping time though, seems like a strange concept. Doesnt matter if yer watching, time wont keep for no one. Thought about buying one for my boy though, hes been whining about losing his.

Perfect, the man was an idiot. Clearing his throat once more, Chao Yong asked, Regarding my request? Like I said, Im of no use here, you have things well in hand. I might even have some other trinkets stored on my boats for your boy. His four trusted guards were also on the boats, please come with me you armoured fool. How old is the young master?

Dunno, like I said, dont really keep track of time. Clapping Chao Yong on the shoulder, his captor continued, Anyhow, we aint going nowhere yet. I cant be caught interfering, rules and such, so yer my cats paw. Chuckling beneath his breath, he added, Dont ye be thinking about running off either, cuz then Id hafta kill ye.

Tears dripping down his face, Chao Yong returned to hiding in the doorway and watching the battle unfold, unable to make heads or tails of the mess. The Coalitions mercenaries looked so ferocious in their green and gold armour, while his mercenaries wore rags and leathers, far from impressive. He could only pray for victory, or failing that, for his idiot captor to keep him safe. Then again, perhaps things were better this way. If they were victorious, than he could claim responsibility for saving the city.

Chao Yong, Hero of Sanshu had a pleasant ring to it.

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