Chapter 231

Chapter 231

Reeling with disbelief, Yo Ling dispatched Spirits and Sendings while wracking his brain, searching for a solution to his woes. The Ascendants continued to delay their deaths, keeping his Transcendents out of the fray. Meanwhile, the defenders of Sanshu fought like beasts possessed. Their vigour unflagging and fury unbound, they scorned their losses while chasing down his panicked Butchers. Fools one and all, if his Butchers stood and fought then they had even odds of winning the day, but his Captains failed in their duties, scattering to the winds and throwing their comrades to the wolves in their desperation to escape. Then there were the Councils mercenaries, emerging from the shadows to strike his Coalition allies from behind, XiaoGong pleading for aid as his elite retinue fell beneath the weight of numbers.

How had things gone so wrong? The defenders of Sanshu should be cowering before his might, their Magistrate and champions defeated single-handedly, yet still they fought on, heedless of his presence. Whats more it should have been impossible for so many blood-thirsty mercenaries to gather without the Spirits knowing, yet there they were, ruthlessly slaughtering his allies with impunity. This was supposed to be his crowning glory, his day of victory, yet trial and tribulation met him at every turn. In desperation, he beseeched the Venerated Ones for aid. Rise and reveal yourselves, your mere presence can turn the tide in our favour, the treaty left unbroken.

Impossible. The Predator Lurks, Awaiting Chance.

The predator? Falling Rain? Hes but a boy! Why fear him?

The Devourer, Its Instrument. Kill Him.

Their insistence gave him pause. Falling Rain was not the Predator, but he was a danger, this much was clear. Then you will reveal yourselves?

Foes Too Numerous. Kill The Devourer, Incapacitate The Predator, Then Away We Bring You.

Their answer weighed heavily upon him, his shoulders slumping as he accepted defeat. Sanshu was lost, this much was clear. Even if he slaughtered every last defender himself, he no longer had the resources required to hold it, whether it be through force of arms or misinformation. His years of careful planning and preparation all for naught, a victory denied him for reasons beyond his control. The Corsairs, the Militia, the Bekhai, the threats to the Venerated Ones, these and a thousand other random factors all working against him, turning grand triumph into bitter failure.

But not without great cost, beginning with these bothersome Bekhai elites.

Raising his mace, he froze in place as he searched for his defeated foes, their bodies no longer lying on the streets. Impossible, all four warriors had all fallen before his eyes, yet somehow escaped without his notice. How could this be? Were there other experts working from the shadows? A chill ran through him as he scanned his surroundings, desperate to find the interlopers but coming up with nothing. His Wraiths were no help, the skulking curs having deserted long ago, fleeing the city like beaten dogs.

Cowards, he screamed, his thundering roar echoing off the walls, stone and wood trembling as he vented his rage and frustration. His Aura billowed out in all directions, crushing friend and foe alike as the battle came to a standstill, every eye turning to gaze upon him. Flee while you can, but know this! Youre all living on borrowed time, your fates sealed. Whether it takes a year or a decade, Yo Ling will have his pound of flesh, vengeance and retributi-

A flash of steel interrupted his ranting, his mace moving to intercept the projectile. Caught by surprise, he failed to fully deflect the attack, the spear piercing armour and gouging flesh as it glanced across his ribs. Breathless and bewildered, he touched the wound in disbelief, his hand coming away bloody. A minor injury but an injury nonetheless. Gaping at his assailant, the diminutive red-headed half-beast glared back at him in silence, sitting atop her mount with a skinny youth cradled in her arms. A mere child, yet she dared attack him, to injure him, a grievous insult to his dignity witnessed by all.

An inhuman snarl tore from his throat as he charged the girl, erupting with bestial fury. Enemies moved to intercept him but he would not be denied, smashing aside spear and sword, rider and mount, undeterred as he charged towards the insolent bitch, sitting in place with arm outstretched to recall her weapon. Batting the spear in mid-flight, he sent it whirling off into the distance, his mace descending to crack fang and bone and defeat the mounts attack. Plucking the girl from her harness, he lifted her in the air and threw to the ground, careful not to kill her yet.

Death would be too merciful, this bitch would suffer for her impudence.

A second half-beast girl screamed and attacked, her saber lashing out towards his throat. Moving with exceptional speed, the sabers edge kissed the skin of his neck before rebounding away, easily stopped by Yo Lings mace. Yet another damned brat who dared to injure him, he was beside himself with anger, shattering her collarbone with a glancing blow before throwing her down beside the red-head.

The Devourer. Kill Him.

Startled by their forceful demand, Yo Ling hesitated for a fraction of a second, searching for Falling Rain. Eyes widening in surprise, he realized Rain was the unconscious youth lying before him, the young man previously cradled in the red-haired bitchs arms. Lifting him by the collar, Yo Ling brought him close, baffled by what he found. Laughing Dragon and Gen both claimed Falling Rain was Enlightened and the Spirits marked him as the Devourer, yet this child wearing oversized night-clothes was untouched. In fact, the Spirits seemed repulsed by his presence, clamouring in discordant anarchy and demanding Yo Ling end him, wailing nonsensical gibberish about the Devourer and the Predator.

How preposterous, a comatose boy not even out of his teens yet able to strike fear in the hearts of the Venerated Ones and Spirits. So many questions, but his curiosity would have to go unsated. Kill the boy, then flee to fight another day, bringing the two foolhardy little brats with him.

They would rue the day they crossed the Spectre Yo Ling.

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Floating through the void, I drift in and out of consciousness as I lay beside Baledagh, watching his conflicted emotions flash across his sleeping face. Blobby bubbles and seethes around us, a churning eddy of currents urging me to wake while carefully avoiding my little brother. A good thing too, even though Bei seemed content with her end, I dont really understand what happened. Did I save her or merely consign her to a different hell? Id like to think Blobby is on the side of good, but judging by its actions thus far, my little friend is more chaotic neutral than anything. Blobby does what Blobby wants, even risking my life to sate its appetite. I dont know if it's on my side or if it sees me as a convenient meal ticket. Even if its purifying Demon souls or whatever, so what? Am I supposed to risk my life hunting Demons to feed it? How many does it need? Hundreds? Thousands? What if the next host isnt as supportive as Bei and turns on me? Can I fight someone inside their mind? I doubt it.

Forget saving peoples souls, I might not even survive the next few hours. With the Coalitions betrayal, things are looking grim, Sanshus defenders trapped in the marketplace with nowhere to run. The thought almost stirs me to action, but overwhelming exhaustion wins out, my mind barely able to focus. Blobby continues to insist I wake and I want to, but I cant. Ive given all I have and theres nothing left in the tank, fatigue permeating my core. All I can do is wallow in guilt while watching my suicidal brother struggle to find reason to wake.

Maybe if I stand really, really still, he won't see me.

Warm blood sprays across my face, blinding me to my imminent doom. Frozen in fear, seconds pass in utter silence before my vision clears, finding the tip of a saber only centimetres from my nose. Going cross-eyed for a moment, I back away and trip, falling on my ass as I gaze in shock at the weapon protruding from Yo Lings belly, his face contorted in pain and disbelief. Gasping as the blade twists, he drops his mace to clatter across the stones, the only sound audible as every eye watches the saber cut horizontally through Yo Lings flesh and organs. The moment the blade slides free, Yo Ling collapses to his knees with a shudder, clutching his stomach in a futile attempt to keep his innards from spilling out onto the streets.

Stepping in front of Yo Ling with the saber in hand, a wizened old man crouches down with a wince, massaging his knee with his free hand. His tired eyes show no sign of glee or triumph, only grief and resignation. Little brother, he says, voice tinged with sorrow, cutting through the silence. Its been awhile.

Yo Ling growls, Bastard Liu.

With wispy white hair, wrinkled, drooping, sun-baked skin, and an emaciated frame, Liu Shi looks nothing like his bounty poster, marked as the former co-founder of the Butcher Bay Bandits and current head of the Crossbone Corsairs. Though old, Yo Ling doesnt look out of place on the battlefield, while Liu Shi looks as if he belongs in a hospice bed. Come now, he says, frowning. That aint no way to greet yer brother. Every time ye call me a bastard, yer insulting Mas honour. She was a good woman, loyal and true to Pa.

Yer no brother of mine. Spitting out a globule of blood, Yo Ling sneers in reply. Fucking coward.

Prudent is how I think of it. I never was strong as ye and damn near a decade older to boot. Hell, its been fifteen years since our last tussle and Im still not fully healed.

Both men sat in comfortable silence, as if they were in the privacy of their home instead of surrounded by two warring armies. After a long minute, Yo Ling is first to speak. Ye still remember Ma and Pa do ye? What a surprise. Ye remember how they died?

Aye, that I do.

Forced from their home of fifty years and into the wilds to die of exposure. Ye ever think about it? Ma and Pa huddled together, dying a slow, painful death because them rich ponces in Sanshu didnt want to look at the poor while out on their palanquins.

Thought about it once or twice.

Yea? Well what have ye done about it? Shit all is what. Here I am working hard to avenge em, and what do ye do? Stab me in the fucking back. If that aint a bastards work, then I dont know what is. Yo Lings words devolved into a fit of coughs at the end, frothy blood dribbling down his chin.

Pulling out a handkerchief, Liu Shi wipes Yo Lings chin and for a moment, Im treated to a glimpse of better times, an older brother caring for the younger, both men slipping naturally back into their roles. That was always the plan, wasnt it? Gather wealth and power to oppose the Empire, dreamin of carving out a little patch of paradise for ourselves. A fool's dream. Liu Shi sighs, shaking his head. Ye know, Jariad and Gao Qiu were the last of em, our original band of soldiers turned bandits. Now we two are all thats left.

Lapsing into silence once more, the two brothers cherish what little time they have left remaining. His lifes blood pooling around him, Yo Ling slowly slumps to his side, unable to keep upright. I wanted to avenge em, he whispers, his breath ragged and laboured. Change the world. Saw power, so I took it. Doesnt matter if Im damned, Id rather the whole world burn than let things stay the same.

Cant say I agree, but Ill pray for your soul little brother.

No need. I wont turn. Ill never surrender. They wont use me, I used them, ye understand? I used them.

Before Liu Shi can answer, Yo Ling draws his last, shuddering breath, his body stilling in the finality of death. Tense minutes pass in agonizing anticipation, the entire battlefield waiting to see if Yo Ling spoke true. After a long wait, Liu Shi sighs one last time before lifting his brothers corpse into his arms. Walking past me, he melts away into the crowd of soldiers and Sentinels, disappearing before my eyes. Only the pool of blood soaking into the stone and the discarded mace serve as proof of Yo Lings demise, Butcher Bays Spectre finally put to rest.

A hearty cheer rises from the defenders of Sanshu and chaos breaks out as bloody battle resumes. Blowing out a sigh as Blobby makes its triumphant return, I accept my weapons from Bulat before leading my retinue out to hopefully put an end to my duties in Sanshu. With all six Demons falling dead shortly before Yo Ling's passing, it's more massacre than battle, with no quarter asked for, and none given.

As the last foe falls, I watch the sun set on Sanshu, my heart heavy and mind in turmoil. Though Yo Ling was a monster, he wasnt born one. He was moulded into one by the circumstances of his life. What would I do in his shoes, if the Empire killed my loved ones? Would I turn to the Spectres for power, seeking to lead an army of Demons to take down the Emperor?

...

I dont know, and I hope I never have to find out.

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