Chapter 753

Chapter 753

The day Dastan Zhandos swore his slave Oaths was, without a doubt, the worst day of his life.

That fateful day felt like a lifetime ago, though only three years had passed since Magistrate Chu TongZu made Dastan choose between slavery or death. For whatever reason, the details of that day in particular seemed hazy and indistinct, a jumbled mess of memories that sometimes felt like had happened to someone else. Perhaps it was because it happened prior to Forming his Natal Palace, whereupon he learned how to perfectly preserve his memories within, or maybe because failure and exhaustion had taken a toll on his mind and hed done everything he could to distance himself from the moment, but regardless of the reasons, he only remembered a few key details of the day.

It started with him sitting in his cell, one he shared with his comrades and subordinates who survived the battle. Exactly sixty-two of them in total, including himself, Warriors one and all who gathered under Dastans banner for various differing reasons, and at the time, most of them no doubt wished theyd died fighting instead of allowing themselves to be captured. The guards were not kind to them, and not without reason, for The Golden Highlands Coalition had betrayed Sanshu and the Empire both by consorting with Defiled. Though Dastans retinue had all proven their innocence by displaying Purity, that only made them even more reviled, for traitors were held in more contempt than the Enemy. At least the latter had reason to turn against the light, poor souls led astray by the Fathers foul lies, but Dastans retinue lacked even that paltry excuse, and thus were seen as beasts rather than men and treated as such.

There were beatings aplenty, which might explain Dastans lacking memory, and shame, so much shame, mostly stemming from himself, but this was not a time he cared to remember, so he focused on other memories instead.

The majority of his Warriors shared a similar background with Dastan himself, the children of men and women working for the Coalition whod been provided food, training, and education in return for a set term of service. While most were there because their parents couldnt afford to feed them, Dastans father had signed the contract on his behalf just after he turned twelve in a misguided sense of loyalty to the Coalition, a gesture meant to tie the Zhandos family to the merchant faction which went wholly unappreciated. There were also a select few Warriors whod joined for the pay offered by the Golden Highlands Coalition, which was slightly less than what most regular soldiers were paid, but service under a Warrant Officer was more desirable since they were free to pick and choose their assignments. Since most Warrant Officers were fops with more money than sense who wanted the rank for show, it usually meant a cushy posting playing honour guard for some uppity young guppy.

Not so with Dastan, whod earned his rank through blood, sweat, and effort. Well, technically the Coalition purchased his rank, but only because hed proven his worth to them after years of gruelling training and dedicated service. When the poorly named Immortals attacked the convoy Dastan was guarding, hed played a pivotal role in defeating the bandits by first rallying the guards to form an effective defence, and then killing their leader, the Highlander Headsman, in single combat. This earned him the attention of Major XiaoGong, the highest ranked Warrior serving under the Coalition and Dastans childhood hero, for he was the most feared duellist in all of Sanshu and the second highest ranking member of the Golden Highland Coalition, standing second only to his brother, the Chief Councilman XiaoBo.

It was quite the success story, two siblings of a middling house rising through the ranks of the Coalition to snatch the reins of control away from the more established merchant families, but most members of the Coalition cared only about profits, which the brothers brought in spades. Not through any prodigious talents, it turned out, but rather because both had been working with the infamous Butcher Yo Ling himself, fencing his plundered goods and providing the bandits with information and equipment aplenty to better raid the Coalitions rivals. Both brothers also turned out to be Defiled just like their backer, and while XiaoBo was a disgusting cretin of a man with a sordid reputation even by Sanshus standards, XiaoGong had always held himself up as a model soldier, albeit one with a dark temper when the mood set upon him. Perhaps that was due to the Fathers influence on his thoughts, or maybe XiaoGong had always had that darkness inside him and the Father merely brought it to the forefront, but either way, Dastan had refused to believe the lies and slander right up until he saw proof even he could not deny.

Now there was a memory he would keep right up until his dying day, no matter how much he would rather forget. The guards had brought him and every other prisoner out to the central square, wrists and ankles shackled to a chain that ran alongside the stage. There, they were lightly beaten and flogged for hours as the sun rose while the audience gathered to hurl stones and worse at them from the stands, but all this was merely the opening act. Oh how the people of Sanshu screamed and jeered when XiaoBo appeared, the former Chief Councilman looking like a shadow of the wealthy merchant he once was, a gibbering mess of a man whose gelatinous frame quivered and quaked without pause. Next came Dastans hero, the man hed hoped to one day succeed, and he remembered looking up at the stage with a mixture of dread and anticipation, for he thought surely the Major would meet his death with dignity. Instead, he was greeted with the sight of a raving madman straining at his bonds as eight soldiers struggled to drag him on stage, screaming hate-filled obscenities and blasphemies with his Chi-enhanced voice, the likes of which Dastan would never dare repeat. XiaoGong made threats and promises of death and suffering, describing what the minions of the Father would do to the placid sheep of the dog Emperor with language foul enough to make a seasoned sailor flinch, and for long, agonizing seconds, Dastan thought the man would never stop.

Then, the guards secured XiaoGong to the central pillar on stage and Fungs half-weasel, Peak Expert manservant Fu Zhu Li stepped forward with his box of tools in hand, and XiaoGong spoke no more. The torturer knew his work well and set Dastans childhood hero to screaming in wordless agony, screams which still haunted his nightmares to this day. Much as he liked Fung and tried to get along with the man, it was difficult to put much faith or trust in someone who kept someone like Fu Zhu Li on hand.

Noon had yet to arrive when XiaoGong turned into a Demon, and despite closing his eyes for most of the ordeal, Dastan remembered every single second of the journey from start to finish. For a brief moment, there were two monsters on stage, then the Peak Expert observers killed the Demon and left Fu Zhu Li as he cleaned up. The entire event was so traumatizing, the guards didnt even beat Dastan on the trip back to his cell, where they left him to stew in the horrors hed just witnessed. A few hours later, Chu Tongzu called him into his office and offered him a choice between slavery or death, and Dastan had all but begged for death before the pitiless Magistrate reminded him of the family he still had left. If Dastan refused, his parents, aunts, uncles, siblings, cousins, and everyone else he loved and cherished would die alongside him, as well as all of the soldiers of his retinue, which was no choice at all. The only consolation was the fact that Dastan would serve under the only person he... not trusted, not then, but... respected, admired even. Falling Rain, the Warrant Officer who stood in opposition of the suffering demanded by the Purge, a man who risked his career and his life all so he could spare a few dozen peasants another minute of suffering.

A fool, but a righteous fool, one who empathized with others and stood up for his beliefs, the same way Dastan dreamed of one day doing.

Those dreams died with XiaoGong, but Dastan still clung to his old ideals when all else seemed lost. The public Oath giving ceremony took place a few hours later, which drew far less of a crowd than the torment and torture the day prior. Even though the Magistrate had declared that most of the Golden Highlands were merely patsies ignorant of the truth rather than Defiled sympathizers whod turned against humanity, they were still criminals who were universally reviled by the entire city of Sanshu. In their eyes, a slave Oath was far too light a punishment for an agent of the Enemy, even an unwitting one like Dastan and his comrades, so few cared to come watch them say their Oaths. In total, forty-eight members of his retinue followed his example and gave their Oaths alongside him, while those who refused to speak the words were killed on the spot.

At the time, as he had still yet to adjust the metaphysical weight of his Oaths, Dastan had envied those twelve dead soldiers for their freedom, for they had nothing keeping them here in this life anymore and were free to move onto the next. It was something hed never heard anyone speak of, the ponderous, oppressive burden of an Oath constraining your body, mind, and soul. Though the guards were quick to release Dastan from his shackles, he found himself bound by fetters ten times heavier than steel and a hundred times more cumbersome, for he found himself unable to even think of freedom without the Heavens dispensing punishment down from on high. Despite being almost dead on his feet from sheer exhaustion, he didnt dare even blink in those first few seconds after swearing his Oaths for fear of missing some subtle, non-verbal cue from his new master. At first, it was Magistrate Chu TongZu who held the token that denoted who Dastan would obey, then the token was placed in a box and handed off to a guard. For long, agonizing seconds, he fought the urge to approach the guard and inquire if he had any orders to give, because while the rational part of his mind understood he was supposed to obey the Magistrates orders to return to his cell, the less than complete certainty of the situation left him frozen in place, unable to obey his given orders from one master lest he inadvertently disobey forthcoming ones from the next.Follow current novels at novelhall.com)

That was how he spent the rest of the day and night, struggling to acclimate to his new, unseen chains. There was a time when Dastan thought little of Oaths, because he believed that so long as you held true to them, then what harm was there in making one? Granted, the Oath he gave to the Shrike binding him to never speak of how he followed in Rains footsteps to defy her authority during the Purge irked him somewhat, but that never grew into an issue because he spent the next few days surrounded by people who were there. These slave Oaths, however, were so extensive and comprehensive Dastan was left reeling in their wake, because there were so many uncertainties left unanswered. He was sworn to defend his master no matter the cost, yet Chu TongZu had ordered him back to his cell, leaving him unable to uphold his Oath should danger present itself, a dilemma which drove him to near madness and panic. Though unable to rest easy due to his concerns for the Magistrates safety, Dastans Oaths rendered him unable to even sit still, desperate to leave and ensure that his master was safe yet anchored in place by his orders. There was also the matter of what wasnt said, for though the Magistrate told him to await further orders in his cell, Dastan wasnt sure if he was allowed to rest while he waited, or do much of anything else besides stand ready. Sleep was most certainly out of the question, because even if it was allowed, he was physically unable to still his mind and rest, but was he allowed to sit or close his eyes? If thered been a bathroom outside the cell, would Dastan have been allowed to use it? What of food brought to his cell? If no one gave him permission, was he allowed to eat?

All in all, Dastans Oaths triggered hundreds upon hundreds of times in those first few hours, and only then did he realize how dark and insidious Oaths could truly be. Truly a misappropriation of Heavenly Energy to demand so heinous an Oath, but he would find few sympathizers if any among the free people of the Empire.

There was a time when Dastan would have pressed him for a more definite answer, but hed come to trust the man Rain chose to take command of his retinue. Trust which was well rewarded as Jorani appeared with Wang Bao and his burliest bastards at his side, filing out of the cellar staircase in pairs with a cadenced discipline the Death Corps would envy. Then, without pausing to take in the surroundings, Jorani led his strike force upstairs to the next level as the Defiled swarmed in from the now undefended doorway and the enlarged windows theyd chopped through in their haste to get in. Some determined Defiled were still hacking away at the walls, just not as many as before, but the tradeoff was that even Rals big swings werent enough to clear the room anymore. He still killed the Defiled quick enough, while Dastan and Camsul darted to and fro picking off the stragglers hed missed, but it wouldnt be long before the three of them were overwhelmed by the sheer weight of numbers alone.

A crash sounded from upstairs, and through the press of bodies, Dastan saw something large and heavy smash into the crowd outside. Furniture would have been his first guess if he hadnt already known what it was, because who wouldve expected Jorani to order his men to carry loose stones and barrels of sand down into the tunnels below? Dastan had assumed it was so they could barricade a street, but Jorani was nothing if not flexible. That being said, amusing as it was to see the Defiled crushed by projectiles from above, it didnt do much to help thin the crowd in the building below, but rather encouraged them to get safely inside instead. Just as Dastan feared theyd reached the tipping point inside the main room, another Warrior threw herself into the fray and the pressure eased significantly.

One might think that two staff users was one too many in these close confines indoors, but where Ral relied on pure brawn to deliver his grand, sweeping attacks, his wife Chey had gone in a more traditional direction along the Martial Path. With hands positioned along the mid-section of her staff to leave a third of the weapon on each side, Cheys range and power both were sorely lacking in comparison to Rals, but she more than made up for it with speed and precision. The staff came to life in her hands as if possessed with a mind of its own, a marvel to see as always. Dastan had seen a number of Martial Warriors wield their staves with consummate skill, but their movements almost always reminded him of a man with a long-handled axe or hammer, utilizing heavy, powerful Movements from the Bull or Bear Forms. In Cheys hands, the staff was more akin to a two-headed snake, with Darting Fangs, Twisting Grasps, and Shaking Branches aplenty as it spun end over end in frighteningly fast circles. Many a stinging slap was delivered as she moved through the Defiled ranks, but short, vicious thrusts were her killing tool of choice, delivered with a deadly flick of the wrist that rotated her staff about as if trying to drill the dull head into her opponents flesh. Add in a healthy mix of perfect timing and prodigious application of Amplification, and each one of Cheys speedy thrusts pulped flesh and crushed bone upon impact.

It was almost unfair how easy the woman made it look, as if she were merely lightly jabbing her opponents to make them explode. Not only were her attacks deadly, but Chey had the timing down pat and could unleash a flurry of strikes against multiple foes in quick succession. In one on one combat, even if Dastan hunkered down to block her thrusts with his Runic Shield, he wasnt sure if his arm would go numb or if hed run out of Chi first, but either way, he only saw defeat. Of course, this was assuming he let her take the initiative in the exchange, but denying her an opportunity to attack was easier said than done. Against Chey, you either dodged or died, that was the simple truth, and here on this battlefield, the Defiled had no room to dodge.

Even more impressive was how seamlessly her attacks slipped in between Rals grand, sweeping strikes, which he now angled perfectly to avoid getting in her way. Why the big guy couldnt do the same with Dastan or Camsul was a question he intended to ask, but he doubted Ral would have a proper answer for him. Probably because he never thought to avoid hitting them, since they never asked him to try, which was a perfectly reasonable excuse in his simple mind. Still, it was all but impossible to resent Ral, especially when he went to such great efforts to body-block attacks meant for the others. Not that Dastan, Chey, or Camsul really needed the help most of the time, but he did so anyways because he thought it was better to be safe than sorry. Already, Ral had saved Camsuls life once today by intercepting a dangerous blow with his shoulder, a figure which would no doubt go up and include many others before the battle was done. On the bright side, Rals Runic Armour kept him safe and uninjured from most of the Defiled attacks, but the downside was that he would be down and out for the count the second a Defiled strong or precise enough to get past the armours defences arrived.

For long minutes, Dastan fought alongside Camsul, Chey, and Ral to hold the main floor, but even though they encountered no real Experts of note, their stamina was not without limit. To this end, Dastan and Camsul soon switched out with Balta and Saida, which was a sight to warm his heart. Strange to see big Balta dwarfed by Ral beside him, but the gentle giant found his legs quickly enough as he used his Runic Shield to herd the Enemy into position for Ral to smash, while Saida took a more active approach to vie with her partner for kills. The flower-eating, grass-trampling woman was more than a little in love with Chey, and she seemed to believe that the way to win her affection was by showing her up in battle, but Chey was about as competitive as they come. She had to be in order to survive so long as a bandit, but a part of it was simply her nature, and the Defiled suffered all the more for it.

The corpses inside the main floor were quickly piling up to the point where the Defiled were tripping over them coming in, but outside, the crowds had somewhat thinned thanks to the barrage of barrels and stones from above. A dark object fell just as Dastan was scanning the crowd, but to his surprise, no heavy crash sounded to accompany it. Then more objects dropped with a similar lack of sound, followed by a bellowing howl that he could only describe as feral and panic inducing. Come, ye bleedin bastards, Wang Bao roared, his practised, dignified articulation slipping in the heat of the moment. Me axe hungers for the blood of braves and cowards both!

While the former bandit uttered his challenge, Jorani finished clearing the area with a few sweeps of his rope. Into the streets, he commanded, hollering loudly for everyone inside to hear. Hold the intersections and let no one pass!

Taking a moment to pass the orders back down into the cellar below, Dastan strode out with axe and shield, ready to fight once more. The battle had only just begun, and already their plan was falling apart as Jorani scrambled to take control, but Dastan knew in his heart of hearts what needed to be done. While they were busy making a fuss here, the other retinues would be quietly moving into position and herding slaves out through the tunnels, but even if Jorani could hold the street for hours without end, it would cost them dearly. More to the point, there was no guarantee that this admittedly small Imperial force would be enough to tempt Bai Qi out of hiding, because surely hed already realized that their goal was his head. Difficult to kill a man lurking in Concealment, but aside from issuing a direct challenge, no one had any idea how to lure him out into the open. Though Lieutenant General Baatar was confident he would emerge victorious if pitted against the Lord of Martial Peace, Dastan was less confident of the mans chances, and absolutely certain the Enemy forces wouldnt just idly stand by and watch their Commander General fall.

Which meant they needed a situation so dire, Bai Qi would have no choice but to show himself and take charge, giving the Imperial forces the first shot at taking his head.

People of the Empire, Dastan called, infusing Chi into his voice and ignoring the barrage of strange looks and insistent Sendings telling him to keep quiet. Liberation has come to Pang Si Xing, and you need only reach out and grasp it. Strike off the shackles of fear and oppression to take up arms against the Enemy, for today, we are all the Chosen Sons and Daughters of the Mother Above. Today, we fulfill our holy duty to scour the Fathers foul minions from these lands we hold so dear. Today, we strike a blow at the Defiled that will mark the first victory of many to come. Today, we show the world that West still resists!

An avalanche of Sendings arrived to condemn him for his actions, and Joranis cutting glare spoke volumes to his displeasure, but they were all too far removed to understand what the people of Pan Si Xing were going through. Though Dastan was a Martial Warrior just like the rest of them, he knew what it was like to live and endure under an oppressors thumb. It was a slow death by centimetres in which you gave up more and more with each passing day, until there was nothing left for you to give, but still the oppressors howled for more, so you held your tongue and dug deeper into your own flesh to meet their demands once more. It was one thing to reject society and run out into the wilds to play bandit, and another all-together to watch the city you loved and grew up in transform into something wretched and unrecognizable before your very eyes. This was their home, their hearth, the place they raised their families and laid their heads to rest, a sanctuary the Enemy profaned with their very presence alone, and the people of Pan Si Xing would not stand for it.

Martial Warriors saw it as their duty to protect commoners and do battle against the Enemy, but commoners were stronger than most gave them credit for. Rain had already shown the Empire what they could do with little more than courage and a few weeks training, and though the people of Pan Si Xing lacked the latter, these hardy survivors had endured the heat of the Defiled forge for two years now, and they would not be found wanting. They said it themselves, over and over again like a catechism or prayer. The West resists. A statement spoken on a million tongues, an oil-well waiting to explode, and their response to his words were telling indeed. All across the city, chaos broke loose as the people of the Empire threw themselves upon the Enemy like crazed wolves descending on dragons. Many would die, but they cared not for their lives if it meant they could bring down their oppressors, for this was a fight theyd waited two years to take part in. Once news of the fighting spread, the civilians would have risen up even if Dastan said nothing at all, so at least this way, they would all rise up and fight together. Even though he knew Rain would be displeased by what hed done, Dastan never swore an Oath to please his new master, only obey his orders. The Legate wanted the province conquered, and this was the way theyd do it, by showing every man, woman, and child of the West that they had the strength to tip the scales of balance in the Empires favour.

For the greatest force in the world was not strength of arms, but strength of spirit instead, and winning this battle to liberate Pan Si Xing would do much to restore Imperial spirits, commoners and Martial Warriors alike. Hope would win them this war, and hope is what Dastan would give them, even if it cost him everything, including the respect of the man he admired most.

Chapter Meme