Chapter 736

Chapter 736

BEHOLD THE CONQUERING HERO, COME TO SAVE THE WEST.

The booming declaration echoes through the inner walls of my mind, a pain unlike anything else Ive ever experienced, but not so debilitating that I cannot simply grit my teeth and bear it. Standing before the sprawling canvas tent which covers the entirety of this sorry excuse for a fort is none other than the Demon once known as Goujian, the Bloody Confessor displayed in all his unholy glory. My eyes look past the obvious threat, scanning the surroundings for possible traps, but I see nothing besides loose stone and packed dirt in all directions save for whatever is hidden behind the tent. My other senses warn me of imminent danger however, so I choose to land a relatively safe distance away from both Demon and tent. Kuang Biao and three other Peak Expert Death Corps immediately move to position themselves between me and the Demon, upholding their duty the best their Oaths will allow. Naaran, Dad, and Binesi inform me that they are also Concealed and waiting nearby, guarding me from Death Corps and Demon alike. More Peak Experts spread out around me, securing the perimeter and making sure theres no one hiding behind us, but I somehow already know that the Demonic Confessor is the only presence here.

Aside from the people I brought with me, there is not a single living soul in the vicinity of LuZhou, a fact I am assuredly convinced of by my obscure and esoteric Spiritual Sense, a certainty that brings me no relief or comfort at all.

No one else has reacted to the Demons sardonic quip, which leads me to conclude the Demons Sending was for me and me alone, but rather than answer immediately, I remain silent to consider my options while studying the horrific abomination before me. A massive, hulking monster which stands at least three metres tall from head to toe, the Demon stands even higher by propping itself up on the four oversized legs protruding out from its hips, blackened appendages which remotely resemble something one might find on a human, but wrong in almost every aspect. The same can be said for the four extra arms folded behind the Demons back, and at the time, that is all I note, but now I see what unsettled me so. The creatures extraneous limbs are subtly misshapen, the joints bent out of shape, the underlying bones hidden underneath all too jagged and protruding, all while the sinewy flesh flows about in place like black molasses.

And in the darkness of those flowing, palpitating liquid movements, I sense great power lurking far beyond the limits of my comprehension, a secret hidden right in front of my eyes and me without the tools to uncover it.

This same flowing property is shared by the vivid scarlet flesh of Goujians original body, giving off the impression that the Demon is more liquid than solid, or at the very least covered in a dense, blood-like liquid layer flowing over its true body underneath. A fact which reminds me of the circumstances of its creation, for the blackened limbs were shaped from the liquefied remains of dead Chosen and Wraiths, while the glistening scarlet flesh is the result of the dead Confessors blood seeping out of his corpse as it was replaced by Demonic Ichor yet still put to good use as an outer layer of defence. Theres a hint somewhere in all this, a piece of the puzzle to help complete the picture, but I know not where it fits in the grand scheme of things and must put it aside for now. All I know is that the flesh of Warriors has power contained within, even moreso when factoring in that the Confessors body might well have been a Spiritual Heart in life, seeing how I had to Hone my Domain in addition to the edge of Peaces blade just to cut through his nigh impenetrable flesh.

Another form of defence, different from that of the assassin Miss Ruo. Goujians body was still flesh in life, but more durable than any other living creature Ive faced, even without his Domain defences in place to counter regular Honing. Miss Ruo on the other hand was seemingly armoured in an invisible suit of solid Chi, a difference which was most discernable when hitting them with my weapon. Flesh has a give to it, a supple strength that absorbs impact and disperses it throughout the human body, while the Chi armour was hard and rigid, and I suspect prone to shattering if hit the right way. How will the Demonic Confessors defences compare?

A mystery worth exploring when I have the time, but there are more pressing questions to consider.

Not even a second has passed since I set foot in LuZhou, yet already I am eager to leave, for there is an unsettling presence here which I yearn to be away from, one which makes my skin crawl and has nothing to do with the Bloody Confessors appearance. This is not to say the Demon isnt disturbing to behold, poised in mid-air with its three heads bowed over its bloody hands pressed together in prayer, like some corrupted holy being here to herald our doom. The heads are the most human thing about the Demon, with each one bearing the Confessors likeness as it was in life, yet almost frozen and artificial in expression. The central head wears a mask of peaceful serenity, its eyes closed and features unnaturally slack, while the left face of Wrath and right face of Despair fix me sidelong with a glare and gaze of fury and horror both. Though the faces themselves are contrived and stilted, the emotions still translate well enough that I can almost believe this is simply another transformation of Goujian standing before me, but I know that the real Confessor is trapped inside. What I see is no man or transformation of one, but a twisted caricature of something that only barely resembles life, an unnatural creature of dark emotion that yearns to live almost as much as it yearns to destroy the living.

And in the moment, I realize that this means it cannot be Goujian speaking to me, nor the Demon itself, but someone else speaking through it.

So you must be... the Uniter, I utter, speaking out loud for everyone to hear as I remember I cant call him Zhen Shi just yet, as thats still something of a secret. Dad and the rest of my guards go on alert at the sound of our Enemy commanders name, but I strive to appear more relaxed and nonchalant, though Im not entirely sure if that will translate over to Zhen Shi. Is he controlling the Demon like a meat suit he wears, or did the Demon inform him that Im here and is acting like a radio to transmit Zhen Shis Sending? It does not occur to me to think about it at the time, only knowing I am now speaking to an actual monster who gave up his humanity for reasons not entirely known. I play the part of calm, cool, and collected while focusing on my righteous determination to keep my wavering Aura in check. How disappointing. Not only are you too scared to stand and fight, you dont even dare show your face.

YOU THINK THIS SOVEREIGN SCARED, LITTLE WORM? YOU ARE NOTHING AND NO ONE, A PAWN AND ANNOYANCE IN THE GRAND SCHEME OF THINGS. A WASTE OF THIS SOVEREIGNS ATTENTIONS, THESE WHIMSICAL GAMES OF WAR AND CONQUEST, AND YET ATTENTION LITTLE WORM STILL DEMANDS.

Though bearable, it irks me how painful it is to speak with him, which I suppose is the point. Loud Sendings are boisterous and disorienting, but they dont cause any actual pain, physical or otherwise. Its just unpleasant and surprising if you arent expecting it. In contrast, Zhen Shis words grate on my nerves like pin-pricks of electrical shocks being set off all over my mind and body both. It scours away at my skin like swimming through a sea of broken glass and chips away my sanity like nails driven into my soul, a pain that is all too real and yet lacks any actual substance, and still somehow sets my body afire.

And yet, the moment I even consider defending against this overbearing presence, my Domain Deploys to insulate me from the worst of Zhen Shis ill-intent. There is more to it than putting up a Domain, for rather than radiating out in all directions like a bubble of Chi, it pulses once to wash away the pain and discomfort before adjusting itself to guard against further harm. Even though I am the one in control, I have no idea what I am doing even as I do it, not in a way that can be easily explained. The closest comparison I have is the process through which the human immune system adapts to remember foreign cells after coming across them once, as my Domain now recognizes the harmful effects of Zhen Shis Sendings and will filter them out in the future.

The what occurs to me as I observe what has happened, but the how is complex and ineffable. The knowledge of what to do just pops into my mind and I follow through, the same way I helped alleviate Milas nausea on the boat ride south through intent alone. I did not arrive at these answers through instinct or intuition, but Insight, which I now believe comes from Blobbys nearby presence. Taduk once alluded to Elemental Spirits years ago and called them the source of Heavenly Energy in our world, but Ive found that theres more to it than just that. Blobby isnt sentient, not in the way an animal or human might be, but he always responded to my thoughts and emotions in a very real way, and it seems as if hes more eager than ever to communicate and assist me. Id forgotten what it was like having him around, because even though Ive always known theres a part of him inside me, his voice has been lessened and muted ever since I lost him in Nan Ping Bay, likely because I had to give something up to do so.

But now hes back, and with his help, I intend to take down this ancient monster and put an end to the united Defiled threat once and for all.

The Demon shows no sign of surprise in its facial expressions or posture, but the tone of Zhen Shis Sending gives his emotions away. So Little Worm can learn and adapt, a promising a pawn as ever, yet still merely a pawn to be sacrificed. Such a small and petty man, his irritation is evident now that his Sendings no longer cause me pain. The suffering caused is not incidental, but intentional, done solely for the sake of suffering, which is a far cry from the curious scholar he began his life as. A conclusion arrived at not through Insight, but intuition, for I have spent many a night poring over his notes, written over the course of several centuries if the contents are to be believed. The first half depicts a man dedicated to discovering the truth, one who refused to be held back by petty concerns like scruples or morality, but the second half of his notes which I received from Shuai Jiao painted a very different picture. Gone was the carefully neutral tone and the meticulous annotations, and in their place was the ramblings of a madman whod slipped into depravity to become a monster cloaked in human flesh, one who needed no purpose or cause to inflict pain, for he derived pleasure from the act itself.

A scholar who was led astray by the Fathers foul minions and lost himself along the way? Or was Zhen Shi a sadistic torturer all along, one who would have found any excuse to commit the atrocities he carried out in the name of progress and experimentation? Did he notice himself slipping down the dangerous slope, and if he did, did he even care?

Difficult to say, but as I face the Demonic Confessor and conversed with Zhen Shi, all I felt was relief that his words could no longer hurt me, and pride in accomplishing such a feat on my own. For someone who always complains about how busy he is, you sure do love to repeat yourself. In hindsight, revealing that Ive spoken to this monster before is not ideal, but pride made me flippant and overconfident. Whats done is done, but more interesting is how similar this conversation is to the ones Ive had with him before, with many of the same tired phrases and tactics repeated here once again. I thought Gen Shi was easy to see through because Zhen Shi was limited by the need to keep Gens delusions from shattering, but the original is every bit as unimaginative as the puppet, using these power games to foster an abusive dynamic between us and allow him to more easily influence my actions. Me Sovereign, you little worm, minor annoyance, grand schemes, hurr durr. Next comes more insults followed by backhanded compliments, only to conclude with honeyed promises laced with dire threats encouraging me to submit to your will, which I will inevitably reject and you can do absolutely nothing about it. Im bored of this already, so perhaps I should just slaughter this Demon and be done with it."

Though I move to draw Unity, I dont intend to lead the charge as I can sense I am outclassed. The Bloody Confessor exudes menace and power that is palpable in the air, and I cannot tell if the threatening atmosphere is lending strength to the Demon, or if the Demon itself is the source of said atmosphere. Even Bai Qi didnt seem so daunting when I faced off against him, because regardless of his formidable strength, the Lord of Martial Peace was still human yet. Not so with this alien creature before me, one that looks just human enough to make the discrepancies that much more alarming. The left face of Wrath has a mouth full of shark-like fangs, while the right face of Despairs eyes cry tears of blackened sludge, and the central face is so immobile it might as well be carved on.

There is no name for the central face, because I cannot quite put a name to its expression. It is not peace or serenity, not tranquility or composure, for there is nothing so warm or amicable present in its frozen aspect, only cold, empty desolation, a blank chasm of emotion so immense I fear to even look too deeply within.

And like that, I realize why the central face scares me so, because it represents the barren void of surrender, the escape I so desperately desired and never could attain.

I dont need to attack the Demon myself, as there are many other Peak Experts present and Divinities to keep their opposing counterparts in check. Still I hesitate to give the order to attack, my attention fixed on the massive canvas tent sat behind the Demonic Confessor, attention which does not go unnoticed. The impatience of youth, Zhen Shi retorts, his tone smug and unconcerned by my desire to do battle. This Sovereign has said already that he has no time or attention to spare Little Worm. Too many other concerns to attend to now that the true conflict has come to a head, sooner than this Sovereign first anticipated, but preparations have long since been laid.

The Demon moves and my guards form up to defend me, but no attack comes as the abomination retreats through the air, pulling back the canvas tent as it passes to reveal the grisly horrors hidden underneath. Wherever the sun shines in LuZhou, an atrocity is being depicted, and I am forced to retract my earlier criticism regarding Zhen Shis lacking imagination. The scene is so graphic and imaginative I am unable to comprehend it in its entirety as my mind refuses to interpret what my eyes are showing it. Murder, rape, cannibalism, and torture are the words to describe it, but they fall woefully short of matching the sheer dread and disgust this horrific spectacle presents, with no two scenes repeated through the thousands of details present. The children gutting their mother to feast on her warm flesh. The father holding down his daughter for another man to indulge his lust. The wife feasting on her husbands entrails while their children watch in horror. The Warrior torn apart by the people he sought to defend. The beggars being torn apart in the streets while the crowd watches with glee. These are but a handful of the scenes I take in at first glance, and there are thousands of others hidden within this tapestry of death and emotion, ones that assault my mind and sensibilities and leave me screaming with anger and hatred both.

Little Worm will find naught but death and suffering in every city and harbour you visit, your every step in this Sovereigns domain paved with the blood of the meek and innocent. Zhen Shi whispers, glee and exhilaration oozing out of his every word, drinking deep from the well of my suffering. You seek to preserve the lives of the people of the West? Then return home to your Citadel and wait until this Sovereign has the time to spare, or see millions slaughtered to herald your arrival. What lands you take are yours to keep, but you will find no survivors to rescue, the sweet taste of victory tainted by the bitter draught of your own futile efforts.

And then, the Demon is gone, and with it, Zhen Shis Sendings, leaving me alone with my screams of rage and frustration. Falling Rain, Legate of the Outer Provinces, helpless today as he was all those years ago when he first appeared in this world as a twelve year old slave.

I stop the playback of my memories and return to the beginning, studying every word, action, and nuance for clues on what to do next.Updated from novelbIn.(c)om

The killing? This one has no answer for this, Junior Brother, for the mind of a massed murderer is beyond my comprehension.

No, not why he kills, but why he did all this. More specifically, why stage the corpses in such a detailed and intricate display? What benefit does he gain from macabre decor?

Ah. Nodding in comprehension, Monk Happy looks more tired and defeated than Ive ever seen him, even during the funerals he held for his fellow brothers after Gen Shis attempt on the Abbots life. This monk understands, but Junior Brother has all the knowledge and experience required to arrive at the answer himself.

I have my guesses, but Im not entirely sure. I suspect he did it to elicit an emotional response from me and everyone else who sees it, but if thats the case, there are easier ways to go about it. At Monk Happys raised eyebrow, I shrug and Send, He couldve just strung their bodies out along the coastline or piled them up high in one giant mountain. Why go to all the trouble of posing each and every individual body?

I suspect, Monk Happy stresses, heaving a defeated sigh, This is because he seeks to elevate death to an art form. Now its my turn to raise an eyebrow, and Monk Happy explains, You have experienced firsthand the effect music has on soul and Heavenly Energy in general, but the same effect can be produced through any medium of art. Painting, calligraphy, carving, pottery, regardless of what medium the work takes, the grandest works of art can touch the human soul and in turn even affect how the Energy of the Heavens behaves, sometimes even in a predictable way.

Though Luo-Luos music is the most obvious example, the mediums Monk Happy rattled off are curious considering he left out dance, poetry, and various other more comparable types of art, which leads me to believe hes trying to guide me to a certain answer. Painting, calligraphy, carving, and pottery, all art forms heavily dependant on imagery, which seems to parallel what Zhen Shi was doing here, but what does that have to do with anything? How is a bunch of art supposed to affect the Energy of the Heavens in...

Oh. Runic Inscriptions.

Zhen Shi went to all this effort to create... what? A Rune comprised of corpses?

Close.

That is all I get from the weary monk, which isnt all that unusual. No one in the Brotherhood likes to just give answers, because the truth hits harder when you stumble over it yourself. If Zhen Shi wasnt trying to make a Rune, then what was he doing instead? Taking a step back, what are Runes to begin with? Yo Ling called them the language of Heavenly Energy, but theyre not a language that can be translated and read by all. A Rune is more of a concept in which the speaker, namely the Runic Craftsmen, attempts to bridge the gap between human intent and natural law by persuading the Energy of the Heavens to act in a certain way with reproducible results. So if Zhen Shi wasnt trying to create a Rune with his creepy corpse artwork, then...

He was attempting to commune with the Energy of the Heavens?

Very possible. Unwilling to speak in certainties, Monk Happy explains, Its often seen in those caught in the spell of the Spectres, a compulsion to put together these grotesque creations for no discernible reason at all, but there is evidence that such works can bring about a certain sense of Insight or affect some change on the creator and sometimes even the spectators, though much is still unknown regarding the technical details behind the process. Looking sidelong at my Spiritual Weapons, he adds, Perhaps a more familiar example would be the manner in which a Divine Blacksmith will mutilate an animals corpse to create a weapon for the sole purpose of killing.

Now theres a spin I absolutely hate, but I cant exactly argue against it. Ive seen Mila in the throes of Inspiration, and its different enough that even Imperials use a different term for whats more or less the same thing as Insight. Putting aside the morality of creating Spiritual Weapons, the long and short of it is that Inspiration is a phenomenon that we all know happens, but no one has any idea regarding the what, why, or how. Maybe thats why the Brotherhood monks keep making so much art day in and day out, a sort of concentrated effort to study this subject in detail. So Zhen Shi builds his corpse art in order to seek Insight from the Heavens above. Was his painting really so terrible?

You jest, but remember, the Energy of the Heavens is the power of Creation and Destruction both. Gesturing at the ashes billowing about us, Monk Happy Sends, There is power in life and beauty, but also power in death and morbidity, and it is the latter this True Corpse has studied for nigh on eight centuries now.

Well, at least his name makes more sense now. I see... sort of.

Suffice it to say, there is power in art, for art is the means through which the human mind connects with the soul. Raising one hand in prayer, Monk Happy utters, OM MANI PADME HUM, a short utterance which explodes behind my eardrums in a manner similar to how Zhen Shis Sendings injured me earlier today, and I do not appreciate the unexpected demonstration. Still, its useful information, because maybe now I can turn my broadcast Sendings into something more than a measly jump scare. You see? Monk Happy continues, gazing around in forlorn melancholy. Art can move the soul and the Energy of the Heavens both, but just as it can move one to tears of joy or tears of sorrow, so too can it be used to create or destroy. This monk knows not what dark intent our foe had in mind here, but it is difficult not to see the harm his efforts have wrought. This is destruction on a level difficult for our mortal minds to comprehend, but we can sense the damage in the air around us, the lingering grudges of the dead leaving an invisible scar in the very fabric of the Heavens themselves which affects everyone who walks here.

A scar eh? Shrugging, I pat Monk Happy on the shoulder to try and raise his spirits, because Ive never seen him so down. Well... I dont know much about anything, but I know scars can be Healed. I believe the same phenomenon occurred at the Central Citadel, and that cleared up in a matter of weeks.

An accidental cut and a deliberate one can differ in more than intent, especially when the intent is malicious in nature.

Hes got me there. That being said, if Zhen Shi is staging these macabre tableaus with a deliberate purpose in mind, then that means he needs time to plan, prepare, and put together whatever artistic vision he has in mind, and now I know what I must do. Thank you for your guidance.

You have found the answers you seek?

No, a different answer to a question I didnt think to ask. Without bothering to explain, I Send word to my guards and head back to the ship to find Gao Liang, or rather Gao Changgong, Major General of the West and all-around bad-ass Warrior burning for vengeance. Though the grizzled veteran is deep in his cups from consoling our shaken Admiral, Martial Warriors have this nifty ability to purge alcohol from their system, and soon enough a sober Gao Changgong stands ready and waiting for orders. Gather as many Peak Experts as you can, but only volunteers willing to put their lives at great risk.

There are a hundred and eighty three Peak Experts under this ones command. In response to the second part of my question, the stalwart Major General stands tall and proud as he declares, The remaining sons and daughters of the West are all willing to die for the chance to free our countrymen from the Enemy.

A formidable gathering of Peak Experts, but considering he coordinated the Western resistance for months, it makes sense that he gathered a fair number of survivors to his banner. Lets call it a round three hundred in total, including my guards and whoever else Dad insists on bringing along. Not as many as Id like, but I dont know if I can spare any more, much less convince them to roll the dice with their lives alongside me. Okay. Come with me. Were heading out to attack the Enemy.

By your command, Legate.

Gao Changgong doesnt blink an eye at the quick reversal on my earlier decision to sit and recuperate, or even ask what sort of risk Im asking his Peak Experts to take, which is good because of operational security, but I cannot resist sharing just a little. So, I Send, heading over towards Dads ship to discuss my hare-brained scheme, because even though Akanai will probably support my idea, shes also likely to take over and tell me to stay out of the way. You think we can take a fort with only three hundred Peak Experts?

Damn it. Stupid question to ask, because even if his answers no, Im still going to give it a try.

Chapter Meme