Chapter 765

Chapter 765

Much as Jorani wouldve loved to sit back and watch a battle between two Peak Experts at the pinnacle of their craft, the Enemy was not so obliging.

Experts to the front! he bellowed, still reeling from the thunderous clash between Mataram Yuchun and Immovable Binesi, one that had thrown him off his feet and shook him down to the bone. We got company incoming.

Not the most inspirational of rallying calls, but it would have to do, because there was a storm of shit about to fall their way and Jorani alone couldnt block it all. Mataram Yu Kong was the Clans top young talent of his generation, a position that was up for grabs now that hed died to a bullet from Old Bulats rifle. Every young and hungry Clansman was coming this way to prove themselves superior to their former rival, and no doubt also avenge Yu Kong and receive whatever reward his furious father would bestow upon them.

There was a time when Jorani wouldve thought it a strange thing to see, a Defiled traitor mourning for the loss of his son, but his time with Asmani and her tribe taught him that the Defiled were not inhuman or unfeeling, just different enough that it often appeared that way. This wasnt helped by the fact that it was easier to pretend they were monsters in human skin when it came to killing them in droves, but in Joranis defence, hed never killed a Defiled who wasnt trying to kill him first. As for these particular Defiled here today, a good number of them hailed from the Mataram Clan and passed for law-abiding Imperials until around three years ago. This made them both easier to empathize with and difficult to understand, for Jorani could not fathom how any sane and rational individual could justify allying with the likes of Demons and Defiled.

Then again, Asmani was plenty smart and sensible too, she just operated on a whole different type of logic. In the Empire, the strong thrive and the weak endure, but to the Defiled, the weak died so the strong could survive. Would the Defiled behave differently in a land of plenty? Even the Arid Wastes were full of life and succour compared to the frozen badlands Asmani hailed from, an unforgiving and inhospitable region where even the sun refused to visit for three-quarters of the year. Upon arriving at the Brotherhood monastery however, Asmanis tribesmen quickly realized there was no longer any need to compete for limited resources and adapted to their new lifestyle with remarkable ease. Whats more, Jorani noted that their tribe was surprisingly harmonious in how they lived together, rarely ever competing over the best materials or locations. Probably because it was socially acceptable to settle minor disputes with duels to the death, which made for a surprisingly disciplined lifestyle overall.

You know, save for the constant threat of death and struggle for survival, but once you took that away, the Defiled were actually not too hard to get along with.

Now was not the time for philosophical musings however, as the first wave of Mataram Yu Kongs would-be avengers were already upon him. What Jorani wouldnt give for a wave of unarmoured tribals to sweep away with his Spiritual Rope, but the Mataram Clansmen were armed and armoured for bear with steel spears and durable brigandine, both Runic and otherwise. This of course sorely limited Joranis effectiveness since he could no longer reliably carve through the Enemy ranks with ease, but they werent the only ones clad in Runic armour. Wrapping a section of Rope around each fist, he darted in with head tucked and guard raised to engage the foremost Clansman leaping onto the battlements, idly wishing he had Old Bulats strength and mass to simply shove his foe off. Lacking that, Jorani had to resort to craftier means, namely blocking a bone-shaking thrust with his rope-wrapped fists before Deflecting the weapon aside and getting in nice and close with his foe.

It wouldve been better to Deflect the thrust before it hit, but the attack came faster than expected. The Mataram Clans reputation as the strongest spearmen of the West wasnt for nothing, but Joranis foe was sorely lacking compared to Lang Yi and Lang Er. A one-two combination caught the Clansman clean in the jaw and killed him outright, but Jorani wasnt entirely satisfied with his performance. The face was one of the few places left exposed by the Enemys bulky brigadine armour and plumed conical helmet, which quite frankly looked ridiculous up close. That didnt make it any less effective however, so he needed to be faster and more precise than ever. Moving away from his first foe before the body hit the ground, Jorani side-stepped a second thrust that he didnt even see coming, but sensed nonetheless, and his counter was already lined up and waiting for the man to deliver his chin straight at it. Blood sprayed and bones broke as his second opponent dropped to the stone floor like a sack of rice, but Jorani had no time to appreciate his working, already moving onto his next target and unleashing a flurry of unending blows that served as more of a distraction than anything else.

Because dire as the situation might be, he wasnt fighting alone.

Dastans axe caught the distracted Defiled in the back of the neck. At the same time, Joranis Rope looped around the wrist of the Clansman aiming his spear at Dastans exposed flank, neatly carving through the mundane steel to render the weapon worthless. Neither man had communicated their intent to work together, but Dastan trusted Jorani to do what was needed even as he trusted Dastan to help. This wasnt a rare event either, nor one limited to Jorani and Dastan, for Wang Bao was right there in the thick of things with them, alongside various stand-out Warriors from each of their crews. So many of their crew hailed from Sanshu, which meant theyd been fighting together for almost four years now, so they knew each other better than some of them knew their families. This was a camaraderie born in the heat of battle, and while Jorani would never invite Wang Bao or some of the others over for dinner, he knew hed go running the second he heard any of them were in trouble, even if a hundred years had passed since they last met.

Chey, Ral, and Lang Yi were also here, holding back in reserve, ready and waiting to step up should anyone from the first line falter, while Ulfsaar and Neera were down on the ground below, sitting in their cattle-drawn chariots and ready to greet the first unfortunate foes who made their way over or around the walls. Much as Jorani would have liked to have their reassuring presence here on the wall beside him, the wedded half-bears pretty much operated like a separate retinue now, and the same could be said of Sai Chou and her bow-wielding Protectorate. A mixed unit was damned useful when operating individually out in the field, but it was better to break off into specialized groups when taking part in a large battle.

Mostly due to Joranis personal limitations, truth be told. If the bossman were here, or any other commander worth their salt, theyd be able to coordinate the various units more effectively, but Jorani lacked the ability to multi-task. To make up for this, he encouraged his under-commanders to exercise more initiative during battle and do as they saw fit, so long as they didnt interfere with the overall unit cohesion. It proved wildly effective in Pan Si Xing, as they fought their way through the winding city streets, engaging the Defiled as they emerged from every crevice and shadow imaginable, and again once they made their way into the plaza which Jorani picked to make what he thought would be their last stand. Oh what a fight thatd been, so chaotic and confusing that he could barely tell his left from his right, but the bossman trained his people well, and they all stepped up to get the job done in Pan Si Xing with minimal direction or oversight. They blocked the doors and alleys while leaving a few easy paths for the Enemy to take, and then systematically slaughtered them on the way in. The roofs were seized and guarded without contest, and so too were the upper levels of each building, as the close confines of room-to-room fighting did not favour the Defiled who relied on overwhelming numbers to get the job done. Itd been some damn desperate and bloody work, but they pulled through in the end, and Jorani was confident they would do the same here in Meng Sha.

But even then, it might not be enough.

Fighting shirtless Defiled was no walk in the park, but it was a damn sight easier than tackling fully armoured Chosen. They werent just harder to kill, but they were also deadlier and more coordinated than what most soldiers were used to dealing with, fighting in groups of twos and threes instead of all by their lonesome within the crowd. Luckily, Jorani wasnt one to slack off when it came to matters of command, no matter how much he wanted to in the days leading up to today. One of the first things he did upon being appointed commander of the Legates retinue was set up a standing appointment to not only spar with the more talented Warriors under his command, but also stage mock battles with Mister Rustram on the practice fields, and he made sure to never miss a single one.

The Mataram Clan taught their Warriors well, but the bossman was a better teacher who held his soldiers to higher standards to boot.

As the Peak Experts clashed overhead, Jorani calmly took control of the battlements below and fended off the unending Enemy offensive. Wave after wave crashed into his ranks, only to be cut apart by the staggered lines of his defensive checker-board formation, one only made possible here atop the battlements thanks to the forward-thinking architects of Meng Sha. Traditional battlements were built as narrow as possible, mostly to save on time and resources, but also to minimize the impact of the Enemy overrunning any one section of wall. Quartermaster General Cao Cuo and Grandmason Gawngjon changed all that here in Meng Sha and turned sections of the walls into whole fortified buildings, complete with wide, spacious battlements to fight atop of and narrow, easily defended staircases and corridors to fall back to should the worst come to pass. So what if the Enemy overran one section of wall? That didnt mean the Imperials had to just give it up like that. No, if the Enemy gained a foothold here on the battlements, that wasnt an end to the struggle, but merely a new beginning.

But until such a time, the checker-board formation held strong, and why should it not? This was yet another piece of tactical brilliance which sprung from the bossmans mind after all. The premise was simple enough, to leave gaps in the defensive line for the Enemy to charge into before bringing them down through combined weight of attacks. Not only were they forced to deal with attacks from three sides, their overall offensive impact was blunted since the target of their aggression could safely focus solely on defence knowing they had allies to handle the offence on their behalf. Whats more, the checker-board formation also allowed the Imperial Elites to truly shine since fighting a series of small, relatively contained engagements was easier than engaging in one endless slog across the battlefield. It was a matter of pacing mostly, allowing them to step back and take a breath whenever needed as opposed to trying to conserve as much energy as possible in case a fearsome foe appeared. This proved most effective against the endless hordes of crazed, tribal Defiled, but while it still yielded satisfactory results against the Mataram Clansmen, they still took a fair bit more killing than your average Defiled tribesman or even Imperial soldier.

To say nothing of the fact that the Enemy had Elites of their own.

It didnt take long for the first Champion to arrive, making his way over the wall with an escort of traitor Clansmen willing to die to keep him safe. The armour made this one stand out, the same black brigandine armour as always but accented in blue as opposed to the standard black and red, denoting this young man as an Officer of some sort. Experts at the very least, one with a Natal Palace and a Spiritual Spear which he pointed directly at Jorani. The entourage charged headlong towards him and he had only a moment to react, which he did by stepping back and releasing one end of his Spiritual Rope and setting it to twirl overhead. Picking up speed as he went, he built up strength and momentum before unleashing a wide, sweeping attack at his foes. The rightmost Clansmen raised their spears to defend, and the Spiritual Rope harmlessly smacked into their guarded stance to no effect. They were not his target however, for a rope was no spear or staff to sweep armoured opponents aside, but a flexible weapon which required a flexible mind to make use of. Wrapping around the raised spears of his foe, the rope travelled in a wide arc around the back of the Clansmen and veered unerringly towards its target, with just enough length to loop a single time around the blue-armoured Officers neck. It was oh so satisfying to see the arrogant sneer transition into wide-eyed alarm and apprehension, and Jorani allowed himself a small smile and a nod goodbye as he pulled hard. With the spears of his Enemies serving as a fulcrum, he launched the Officer directly backwards and off the wall from whence he came, and hed never heard so satisfying a scream.

Mildly hurtful statement that was, he realized in retrospect, but given his record with women, not entirely unjustified...

Difficult to tell through the rope if Jorani snapped the mans neck, stopping his forward momentum so suddenly like that, but if the quick stop didnt kill him, then the long drop most certainly would. Bereft of the immediate commander, the charging elites slowed their charge and looked back as if wondering if they should retreat to check on their ward, but Joranis soldiers gave them no choice or quarter. The Enemy fought well and died hard, but he barely had a moment to bask in his success before spotting a second blue-armoured Officer arriving on scene.

Dastan dealt with that one in quick order, making short work of those elites with help from the surviving members of his former retinue. Where Jorani had to fight smart and sneaky, the former Warrant Officer turned slave only had to fight, and nine times out of ten, hed come out on top without breaking a sweat. Now there was a Living Legend in the making, one worthy to stand alongside the bossman, the golden boy of the Golden Highlands Coalition, Dastan Zhandos. He should be leading this retinue, not half-rat Hangman Jorani of Sanshu.

Shaking off this uncharacteristic bout of self-contempt, Jorani gave his all to the battle while keeping a clear eye on his surroundings. A third Officer arrived soon after, but Wang Bao dealt with him quickly enough, albeit in less domineering fashion than Dastan had. Theirs was a hard-fought battle, leaving the former Butcher bleeding from three wounds including one thrust that almost pierced clean through his eye, but he still won and kept the eye to boot. There might have been more Officers killed by Old Bulat, since Jorani remembered hearing shots ring out every now and then, but only three of those blue accented Champions had made their way onto the wall thus far. Even then, it wasnt easy holding the walls, as the standard, black-and-red armoured Clansmen had more than their fair share of crouching tigers and hidden dragons scattered amongst their ranks. Jorani had long since lost count of the times he narrowly avoided death, and hed feel a lot better about it if he could confidently say that hed meant to do just that. Most of the time, it was sheer coincidence that kept his head attached to his neck, like the time he almost slipped and dropped down to one knee to stabilize and ended up avoiding a thrust he hadnt seen coming. Or when that one Clansman let go of his spear to grapple Jorani instead, and ended up moving his shoulder into the path of his allys killing smash which would have cracked Joranis head open like a raw egg.

Oh? Keeping a wary eye on the Warriors fanning out around him, it was clear that Mataram YuChun was no longer so confident in his chances here today, but his sneer lost none of its arrogance. And who might hold that honour? I have heard tales of a legendary amber-eyed Warrior whose spear can pierce the Heavens, but I remain skeptical to say the least. What say you, Naaran of the Bekhai? Do you dare emerge from hiding to trade blows with YuChun of the Ten Thousand Spears?

A neat little reversal there, throwing out a personal challenge to keep the Ascendants from joining hands to kill him. Keep in mind, the two most dangerous of the bunch were still hidden in Concealment, for few could match the Lord of Thunder Lei Gong and Tyrant OuYang YuHuan when it came to sheer killing power. Silence hung heavily over the battlefield for all of a second before a booming voice snorted in disdain. Trade blows with you? Naaran scoffed, as if someone just offered to feed him a giant bowl of steaming shit. Against the Ten Thousand Spears, one of mine would be too many.

Damn. The Bekkies were a quiet bunch who kept to themselves, which made it easy to forget how arrogant they could be. If Baatar or Akanai were the ones saying as much, no one would blink twice, but as far as Jorani could tell, Naaran was just a kindly old grandfather in charge of the bossmans guard detail. A few chuckles broke out among the Imperials, for most had never heard of Naaran before in their life, and YuChuns tanned cheeks turned an unsightly shade of deep red that Jorani had never before seen. The strained silence lasted for a few seconds longer before Daxian coughed and grinned, shaking his head as if to say YuChun had brought this on himself.

The grin disappeared as the Tyrant emerged from Concealment, her supple, voluptuous form still a sight to behold despite being maybe three times Joranis age. Mature was the word to describe her, gracefully aged to perfection some might say, and while he wasnt exactly the type to lust after older women, there were few men who could resist the Tyrants allure. With spear in hand and sporting jewellery aplenty, the sensuous beauty shot Daxian a petulant look before turning to face YuChun. I, OuYang Yuhuan, believe Little Virtue intended to set the stage for myself, though I dare not call myself the number one spearman of the North.

Too furious to think straight, YuChun had no clever rebuttal to give and launched straight into an attack, and the two Peak Experts disappeared from Joranis sight. Just as he was about to heave a sigh of relief however, the world lit up in dazzling illumination that left him blind and blinking, only to recoil in fright as an explosion of thunder echoed immediately overhead. When the dark spots cleared and the world came back into view, Joranis stomach dropped out a second time as he found a second Mataram Spearman standing in the space YuChun had only just vacated. The new arrival bore a striking similarity to the Ten Thousand Spears, as well he should considering their relationship as father and son, for who could it be but the Mataram Patriarch himself?

Standing tall with his spear grounded and one hand behind his back, Mataram YuGan held his head up high and directed his gaze towards the Azure Sea. There was little known about him, for he was neither famed Warrior nor respected merchant, merely the head of a notable family in a province ruled by the Lord of Martial Peace. At least, thats what everyone believed until he slew Ryo Dae Jung in the Central Citadel only a few months back, a single victory that took him from the depths of obscurity to the height of notoriety. Now, he reinforced his reputation as one of the fiercest Warriors of his generation by sweeping the field clean of all opposition, injuring Daxian, Lei Gong, Wugang, and Yelu Chi all in the blink of an eye and leaving them bleeding on the ground before him. It happened so quickly Jorani barely even had time to register the abrupt shift in momentum even after long seconds of silence, for all he could do was stare at the mans unsightly black and gold armour. It wasnt the jagged points or the lifelike veins protruding from the armours surface that was so disconcerting, or the almost inhuman and definitely Demonic form the overall armour presented, but rather something less distinct and definite. There was a fluidity to the darkness that didnt seem wholly real, as if you could see it shifting and writing about just out of the corner of your eye, but when you focused on the movement itself, there was only immobile steel to be seen. The Empire called these abominations Half-Demons, for it seemed as if they were humans clad in a Demon taking on the form of armour, but Jorani was almost certain that wasnt true anymore.

This was not two separate entities working in tandem. No, this was an unholy merging of man and Demon, a combination that went against the natural order of the world in defiance of the Heavens and the Dao.

The Mataram Patriarch offered no challenge, nor did he need to, for his actions spoke volumes of his intent. Naaran claimed Mataram YuChun unworthy, but could he say the same about the Mataram Patriarch? No one would believe him if he did, so there was no need for words between them. Appearing out of thin air, Naaran arrived with spear in hand and a scowl etched across his wrinkled features, seemingly more annoyed by the fact that he had to come out and fight than worried about the fighting itself. Now that was some confidence, and Jorani prayed it was well deserved, though after seeing how Baatar almost took Bai Qis head, the chances of a third possible Living Legend emerging from the Bekkies ranks were slim to none.

Seriously, how many talents could one faction nurture? Hell, the bossman alone was already too much, so what right did the Bekkies have to raise so many on their own?

Departing as suddenly as they arrived, YuGan and Naaran disappeared from sight, though the din from their exchanges soon drowned out the clash between Tyrant and Ten Thousand Spears. Gesturing for Ral to put him down, Jorani thought hed finally found a moment to breathe when he discovered yet another new face across the battlements, a young, bald monk hed never met before today, standing shoulder to shoulder with the gangly Monk Eyebrows and a handful of other monks who defected with the Old Healer. Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo, Monk Eyebrows intoned, pressing his palms together as he lowered his head in a bow directly at Jorani. There is the one you seek, Junior Brother Yuanyin.

Hangman Jorani, the younger monk proclaimed, his face twisted in disappointment. Hes much... smaller than I expected.

As this monk already said, his value lies not in his strength of body, but in his strength of mind and spirit. Offering a half-hearted shrug, Monk Eyebrows explained, Not many are willing to listen to the Brotherhoods teachings without already having been convinced, but he keeps an open mind and offers a valuable unbiased perspective, so as to better refine our Right View.

That explained the strength of mind bit, but whats this about strength of soul? Was that how Jorani resisted Kukkus Dream Call, because he had a strong soul? Or maybe it was the trance he went into when the monks started chanting. Regardless of the reasons, Yuanyin did not seem impressed. I misunderstood then, he said, shaking his head in regret, But I might as well kill him so long as I am here. It perturbs me to hear the Wisdom lavish praise on one so undeserving.

...Well fuck.

Resisting the urge to look around for Monk Happy in a panic, Jorani steeled his nerves as Monk Eyebrows offered him an almost apologetic smile before bowing his head yet again. So be it, Junior Brother. One cannot know the true burden of sacrifice without first knowing the joys of sin, so far be it for this monk to bar you from your Path. Go and do what you feel is necessary, and this monk will ensure none of the traitor Brotherhood will stand in your way.

...Double fuck.

Jor, Ral rumbled, his tone low and filled with tension in a way Jorani had never heard from him before. This monk is strong.

Yea, he would be, wouldnt he? Sending orders to Bulat, Ravil, Siyar, and everyone else with a Spiritual Rifle to take the shot as soon as they could, Jorani readied to fight dearly for his life. This was some real bullshit, just one super strong Warrior coming after another. Jorani was barely even a legitimate Expert of the Empire, having only Developed his Natal Palace thanks to his encounter with Kukku, but somehow, his area of the Wall attracted three generations of Mataram talents, and now he had to fight some rising dragon of a young Monk. Luckily, Jorani wasnt one to fight honourably, so he flashed a smile and looked Yuanyin dead in the eye. Well? Ye comin or not?

The young monk drew his sword and prowled forward like a tiger stalking his prey, but after three steps, his movement stilled as five loud cracks sounded out as a barrage of bullets thudded into bare flesh. Reeling in place with an inhuman screech of pain, Jorani wholly expected the young monk to fall where he stood, but alas the Heavens were not so kind. Ruined features twisted with pain and hatred, Yuanyin lowered his head to reveal a face bleeding from five separate wounds, ugly grape-sized craters spurting out blood and bits of bone. The fact that he was still alive was already a miracle, with one eye and three quarters of his face rendered nigh unrecognizable, a pulpy mash of bleeding flesh and shattered bones that would haunt Jorani until the end of his days.

Then the young monks sword was upon him, and the true nightmare began, for Jorani realized that he was sorely outmatched in the first exchange, and there was no one around to save him.

Such was life, trials and tribulations, but now it seemed like it was Jorani's time to discover what came next.

Chapter Meme 1

Chapter Meme 2