Savage Divinity - Chapter 836

The resounding silence echoes endlessly throughout the Void in response to my non-verbal call to arms, proving once and for all that thoughts and prayers are well worth their weight in gold.

No, that’s the old me, the empty me, the faithless me, the me who was too afraid to want things because the inevitable disappointment was becoming too difficult to bear. This is a new me, with a new body and new outlook on life, a brighter, more courageous me who understands myself better than ever before. I wouldn’t be the first person to find religion on the battlefield, but this isn’t a desperate appeal to powers unbeknownst to me hoping they’ll miraculously save me from all that ails me. My prayers are not directed to a deity on high in hopes of Divine Intervention, nor is it a plea for deliverance or absolution. Instead, I am praying to the Energy of the Heavens themselves, and not because I am depending on them to fix everything. I am praying because as silly and ridiculous as it might sound, prayer is the best option moving forward that doesn’t involve complete surrender.

How do I know this? I’m not entirely sure, but I am certain I am on the right track. I know this in my heart of hearts, because my gut, my instincts, my intuition, experience and Insight, all this and more is telling me to believe in myself and my fellow people, and my faith will be rewarded. It’s not the limited omniscience of the Heavens guiding me anymore, but a more subtle and personal directive. Before, all I had to do was wonder and the answer would be provided, not so much in words, but in actions, yet I always knew those answers were not truly mine. Now, however, it’s almost as if a part of me knows this is the right way to go except I can’t find the words to express it. Knowing without knowing, but with more intimate undertones, as if I’ve known all of this all along and done it a thousand times before. They say you never forget how to ride a bike, and that’s what it feels like now, as if I’m picking up a bike and getting ready for my first ride in a long, long time. It’s familiar and foreign at the same time, so natural and instinctive that there’s no way it can be wrong.

It’s the same sensation as your first natural kiss, when you look into the eyes of someone you love and are just naturally drawn towards them. Or the feeling of walking down a path you’ve gone down a thousand times before, but not for many years since. I imagine this is the same feeling Roc has when he swoops in to perch on my shoulder, knowing exactly how fast to fly and how hard to brake to come to a perfect, near weightless landing, or when Jimjam finds the optimal path up a towering tree trunk. Knowing without knowing, except now, this knowing extends beyond the physical realm and into the metaphysical.

It takes everything I have to quiet the skeptic in me, that stubborn, comic book nerd who only understands what I’ve learned in my past life and refuses to accept any new lessons from this one. Putting aside the debatable value of thoughts and prayers in my last world, there is an undeniable weight to them in this one, because faith has a power all of its own due to how the Energy of the Heavens works. Gerel and I have always butted heads about my lack of faith, but I’ve repeatedly missed the point he was trying to make, or ignored it because I didn’t want to accept it. When he says I lack faith, he isn’t talking about my love/hate relationship with religion, but rather faith in the Energy of the Heavens themselves.

Again, not in the sense that the Energy of the Heavens is some anthropomorphic being looking out for my best interests, but rather in letting it do what it does best. It’s no different from my faith in science. I don’t exactly understand everything there is to know about gravity, but even though I can’t rattle off a proof that will set aside all doubts, I have faith in the fact that whatever goes up, must come down. Except that’s not entirely true, because there is an argument to be made that if you go up long enough, you never have to come back down once you break through the atmosphere and free yourself from the pull of this planet’s total mass. Again, I’m taking this on faith, because I sure as shit have never been to space, nor have I really taken the time to go through the proofs of the math behind those facts because, in all honestly, that’s boring. So the long and short of it is that I believe in gravity without wholly understanding it, but I don’t need to understand it in order to use it. Push rock off cliff, rock fall and squish people below. Simple. Easy. Effective. This is the mindset I should be using when approaching the Energy of the Heavens, focused on how to use it rather than figuring out how it works, and only then will I possess the qualifications to delve deeper into the details. The bigger issue is that the Energy of the Heavens is far more complicated than gravity in that it is a force affected by the way I perceive it. Thus, in my desire to affix rules and formulas to the Dao, I demonstrate a lack of faith in its ability to heed my Will and do whatever is needed to fulfill it without any further guidance from myself, guidance I am then unable to provide to obtain the outcome I desire. This in turn negatively affected its ability to act without said guidance, and thereby creating a self-fulfilling prophecy of failure.

It’s Guiding all over again. I can do it, as long as I don’t think too hard about it, because thinking about it means I need to provide all variables, but I’m unable to do so which makes it no longer work. The same thing with teeth. Humans aren’t supposed to naturally regrow their adult teeth, except in this world they do, because faith and Heavenly Energy.

It ain’t exactly all logical, but it makes sense. There are limits to what the Energy of the Heavens can do of course, namely that it must adhere to the rules of the world. Teeth are easy, because the framework is already there, so the Energy of the Heavens is really only stimulating an entirely natural process. The same could be said regarding the Refinement and Cleansing of my body, mind, and soul, because when I surrendered complete control of the process and trusted the Energy of the Heavens, it was more than capable of handling all the details from start to finish and improving me in every way possible. That is my Path now, the way forward from here, a compromise between my need to understand things and my supernatural ability to willfully ignore the facts whenever it suits me, which even as I say sounds far too complicated to actually explain. The amount of shit I still don’t entirely understand about how I Refined my body, mind, and soul could fill the oceans and then some, but I had faith in the process. By acknowledging several truths about myself and affirming my Dao, I was able to hold true to my sense of self and in doing so, become One with the Heavens and One with the World. This in turn enabled me to retain my unique individuality so that the Energy of the Heavens could rebuild me from the ground up without destroying the core essence of who I am.

Because to pursue the truth without the truth of self is to pursue a lie, and one cannot lie to oneself or the Heavens above. Maybe that’s why Ancestral Beasts and Human Divinities remain false Divinities, unable to take that final step because they instinctively know that they would lose themselves in the process, the same way I knew any attempt to Ascend would’ve ended in failure before today’s events.

Luckily I have plenty of experience finding myself from all my bouts of crazy, which enabled me to surrender without losing control, which brings me to my current prayer. A last resort which should be working, except it isn’t. There’s no answer to my prayer just yet, but that doesn’t mean there won’t be one, only that I am doing something wrong because I feel like I should’ve gotten an answer already. So why am I being stonewalled? Because my prayer is too vague, too uncertain, too broad and all-encompassing. I made a call for help asking humanity to stand up against a shared foe, but I didn’t include any incentive to answer. Humans are typically pretty decent, but only a rare few are willing to stand up and do the right thing for no reward whatsoever. There isn’t much I can offer however, except to share why I believe we must all unite together and overthrow the Eternal Emperor, and when all is said and done, I hope this will be enough.

In other words, I need to focus my Will, clarify my Intent, and only then will the Heavens move to assist me. Perspective matters, but Intent is more important, one I have failed to clarify beyond a basic, “Gib halp, plz.”

So why do I need help? Besides the fact that I’m in over my head and about to die, because again, most people wouldn’t really care all that much. Well, some might, but how many would be willing to risk their own lives to help a stranger survive? That being said, even though I’m out here fighting for my damn life, that’s not the only reason I’m here. I don’t mean here in Shi Bei specifically, but here in general, as the person I am today. Like I said before, I could’ve walked away from all this at any point in time, stayed home in the mountains or sat safe in the Citadel and no one would’ve thought twice about it. But I didn’t. I chose to embrace my title as the Undying Savage, chose to fight for the honour of being the Number One Talent, chose to share my ideas with the world and use my limited power and influence as Minister of Finance and Legate of the Outer Provinces, decisions which have ultimately brought me here, standing in the Natal Palace of a puppet to face off against a body-snatching immortal spirit who hearkens back to the dawn of the Empire.

Not solely because I wanted to be the hero, or even because I needed to be a hero. No, the truth is, I do what I do because at the end of the day, I want to make the world a better place. It’s that simple. Although the various trials and tribulations I’ve faced have brought me to many a dark place, and I complain about this shitty world more than most could stand to hear, the truth is, I love this world and the life I’ve made here, with all my friends, family, and floofs. It’s not perfect, but nothing ever is, so I have made it my mission to make this world the best it can be, with human rights, civil liberties, indoor plumbing, and all that other great stuff that I would rather not do without. Sure, I am often spurred on by the suffering I see, and I’ve turned a blind eye to plenty of suffering that I know I cannot fix, but I still do what I can when I can, and I hope that will never change.

That’s why I stand against the Eternal Emperor. Truth be told, I don’t hate him, or at least I didn’t before he started taking on Zhen Shi’s mannerisms and threatening all my loved ones. I may have erred in kicking off the clone wars like I did, because as far as I can tell, Ying Zheng without Zhen Shi wasn’t that much of a monster. I mean, yea, he pretty much engineered the eternal war between the Imperials and Defiled, while treating the lives of his subjects like chaff, but all things considered, he’s far from the worst option available. After a few minutes with me though, now he’s talking about sacrificing whole armies in the name of progress and torturing everyone I hold dear, and I can’t help but feel like this is partially my fault. Then again, even if he wasn’t in the process of devolving into a deranged murder-hobo, I would still stand against him, because he is dead set on hindering humanity’s progress and the sole reason why I still shit in a pot. That alone should be enough to consign him to the darkest pits of hell, but there are other reasons to fight him too. The Eternal Emperor represents the immutable status quo, a bleak and unchanging future in which trials and tribulations continue without end, but more importantly, without progress. In contrast, I hold high hopes for the future, of this world and humanity both, hopes I dare dream of because I have seen further than my peers.

This is the Path I’ve chosen, one I convey as best I can through prayer and emotion by sharing all the reasons I need help, why I desire strength. To survive, but more than that, to ensure the survival of those I love and care for, and to flourish in time. That is why I pursue strength, but also because in a world which believes ‘might makes right’, the only way to have a voice at the table is to carry a big stick. I yearn for the day when that is no longer true, the same way I yearn for a day when there are no more slaves suffering under the whips of their oppressors, no more people going to bed hungry after a long day’s work, no more despots picking on the weak and growing fat off their labours, and no more educated nobles exploiting the masses for mere entertainment. I dream of a day when I can be free from these conflicts to do as I please, but until such a time when all the above is true, that freedom will be denied me as I willingly fight for the freedoms of others. That is why I fight here today, because the Eternal Emperor stands before me as the Enemy of all mankind, a tyrant oppressor who would see us bound in the chains of suffering all for the sake of his misguided Balance. He is a manipulative despot who has played both sides to engineer so much death and suffering in the name of his own selfish progress, and it is long past time his reign comes to an end.

In short, today, I fight for freedom, freedom for the entire human race, for we have suffered the Eternal Emperor’s boot for far too long, and I invite the heroes of all humanity to fight alongside me.

The call goes out again through the Energy of the Heavens, and the first to answer is a familiar face which appears at my side, one I saw only moments ago. Even though I was expecting something like this when I hatched my harebrained scheme, it still pains me to see my suspicions confirmed, almost as much as it warms my heart to know that Yazhu can be depended on in life as well as in death. Born a lowly cobbler’s son, he was the first to come to my aid in JiangHu, and he is the first to come to my aid here today, clad in his Stormguard armour while waving a spectral copy of the bowtie-bunny banner he left behind alongside his cold, dead body on the ramparts of Shi Bei. Death hasn’t stopped his soul from answering my call however, but what pains me most is that I can tell that he’s not here because he believes in my cause. No, he’s here simply because I called, and he’s here to support me to the bitter end, for better or for worse, because that’s all the reason he needs. He saw what I stood for long before JiangHu and decided I was a man worth fighting for, worth dying for, so even though he’s fought and died for me once already, he figured once wasn’t enough to repay the debt of gratitude he holds for me.

Except Yazhu owes me nothing, not in my books. I helped open a door, but he found the courage to walk through it and forged his Path all on his own, but now his loyalty has cost him his life, and might well cost him his soul as well.

Many other fallen Stormguards gather around my banner, but most of those who appear are wholly unfamiliar to me. Rather than armour and weapons, many of them wear simple clothes and carry a vast array of common implements, everything from shepherd crooks and pitchforks to fishing nets and threshing flails, though a good number of them carry the repeating crossbows they carried in life. These individuals were Irregulars no doubt, common men and women lacking the gifts of Heaven yet blessed with courage and determination unmatched. They saw the war efforts firsthand and knew the dangers they faced, yet they steeled their nerves and joined up to run towards the problem, rather than away, because that’s what heroes do.

No small number of soldiers and Warriors form ranks alongside me, but many who’ve come to my aid make no effort to gather around my banner, and instead find their own place in the Void. Most are Warriors and look the part, so full of vim and vigour with their noble demeanours, an individualistic minded bunch who resent the Eternal Emperor’s oppression every bit as much as I do. Their desire for freedom is not lacking in comparison to mine, though their freedom is defined by their Dao, whereas I am the other way around. At the end of the day however, it matters not why they chosen to come and fight at my side, only that they have, and for this, I am grateful. Though few in number compared to the soldiers, Stormguard, and Irregulars, I recognize most, if not all of them as famed Warriors one and all.

There’s the married Exarches Bralton and Eriene, resplendent in their tribal headgear wielding long spears measuring one and a half times their height, united together in death as they were in life and ready to fight alongside me for no reason other than our similar, rustic origins. That’s how they’ve always been, friendly and supportive to a fault, a simple and straightforward couple who fought for the betterment of the Empire because they love it as much as I do. Their carefree smiles tell me all this and more as they ready to fight alongside me once again, one last hurrah before they’re forced to part ways through the cycle of reincarnation.

The Fiery Star Song Qing twirls her signature meteor hammer overhead with eyes narrowed in the personification of wrath, while her hulking younger brother hovers protectively at her side, with head lowered and shoulders hunched to avoid being brained by her weapon, while his eyes are firmly fixed upon her. Neither one cares to spare me a glance, which tells me they’re not here for me. In fact, they died before I even arrived in Shi Bei, the younger dying for the elder before she lost herself to grief, yet now they have returned to even the score now that the true Enemy has been revealed. This is personal for them both, and they will have their pound of flesh, or close to it as they can get, and I am in no position to be turning down their help, even if I wanted to.

Never one to stand out when he could blend in instead, I almost overlook Ryo Geom-Chi as I scan through the crowd, and I’m struck by a wistful sense of loss and regret for never having gotten to know the man before he was killed by a Half-Demon. Though we never really sat down and got to know one another better, what I do know is that Geom-Chi seemed like a stand-up guy. Although he and Tam Taewoong got in a fight with Fung and BoShui their first day in Nan Ping, Geom-Chi never held it against them, nor did he ever treat me with any hostility or disdain that I so commonly get even from my so-called allies. In fact, knowing what I know now, I like him even more, because I suspect he was against Seoyoon’s betrothal to Yong-Jin simply because he knew his sister was in love with Fung. That explains his absence from the meeting with Shuai Jiao and the Legate, as I suspect they kept him away because they were worried he’d mess the plan up by warning me through Sending. Unfortunately, it’s too late to ask him now, but as I meet his piercing gaze from across the Void, I offer him a small nod of heartfelt respect and an unspoken promise to look after his loved ones should I make it out of this alive, because it’s the least I can do for leading him to his death.

Northern Sentinels and former bandits who’ve ridden at my side since Sanshu. Western vagabonds without a home to return to but have found meaning in the promises I’ve made. Southern soldiers here to serve a cause they don’t entirely believe in, yet fight for all the same for the safety of the Empire overall. Central patriots defending their borders from a threat which has changed their entire way of life. Some I recognize at first glance, while others possess identities I can only guess at, for the appearance of their souls do not match the appearance they had in life. Situ Chi Gan, for example, whom I only recognize due to his longsword and cloak, a twin for the black and gold one Nian Zu wears bearing the Situ Crest. Ishin Ken Shibu is almost unrecognizable without the face paint, which he wore even into battle after I foisted the title of “Painted Dancer” onto him, a name he came to wear with pride, and one I will see raised to the highest honour as thanks for his service in life and in death. These men were never what I would call close allies, and were even at odds against me most of the time, but they both understand the value of putting aside grievances for the greater good.

A reasonable and impartial take, all things considered, and Bai Qi is nothing if not both. The Lord of Martial Peace stands apart from the rest, his Green Crescent Dragon Blade at the ready and a small cadre of loyal supporters behind him. These devoted Officers still follow him even in death, men and women who trusted him to lead them to victory time and time again, until he lost his Path. I can hardly blame him either, because everything Bai Qi worked for, fought for, all the peace and prosperity he dared to dream and hope for, all of those decades of lies came crashing down in the span of a single day. The Enemy he fought was nothing compared to the enemy he found hidden within his ranks, the Mataram Clan working with the Defiled to serve up the West on a platter. In this moment of weakness, Bai Qi succumbed to his inner darkness and turned Defiled to fight for the Enemy, but judging by the palpable aura of serenity emanating from where he stands, it would appear that he has since come to terms with the Truth and found peace within himself, which is more than what most can ever hope for.

These are the heroes who answer my prayer, ones who fell upon the field of battle in Shi Bei and Meng Sha both. Imperials. Defiled. Nobles. Peasants. Warriors. Commoners. Though their numbers are not few, there are not so many as to blanket the Void, some thousands of souls belonging to the dead who’ve yet to move on and pass through the cycle of reincarnation, for their lingering grudges and unresolved grievances have kept them nearby, ready and eager to answer the call as soon as I made it. Less than I would like, yet more than I ever expected, for it requires a special sort of hero to fight on even after death, a true nobility of spirit that has won my admiration and respect.

The twin fires of courage and confidence burst up from within just in time for my Natal Soul to finish delivering his line, warning our foe that all his efforts were merely a distraction. Not entirely, since I was hedging my bets and hoping one of my Natal Souls might come up with something I could use to hurt the Eternal Emperor, but that still remains to be seen. Recalling all my remaining Natal Souls to me, I drop Concealment and reveal myself still standing high above the Emperor’s court alongside an army of heroic spirits I am honoured to stand with.

And best of all? Despite wanting nothing more than to meme on the Emperor just for shits and giggles, I find it in me to retain a modicum of dignity and take the high road instead.

Would ya lookit that. Miracles do happen.

“Heroes of humanity,” I begin, pointing Unity at the Eternal Emperor as I unleash my Emotional Aura to bolster my allies and supress the puppeted souls of the Emperor’s court. “There stands our Enemy, an undying relic of ages past who works against us to hinder our Path by filling this world with needless suffering. It is he who united the Defiled against us, and he who spurred them onto violent action, but that is not all. He drove our supposed allies to inaction and convinced them to hinder our reinforcements, a manipulative schemer who cares not for the lives of humanity save to see them as pieces upon a chessboard for him to sacrifice as he pleases. He thinks himself as the rightful sovereign of all mankind from now unto eternity, shepherd to a flock whom he guards from themselves, but he is nothing more than a blight upon humanity, a parasite feeding off our collective experiences in the self-entitled pursuit of a lie, one I will not stand for any longer. I alone am not strong enough to defeat him, but together, united in purpose and intent, let us strike him down and free all of humanity from the shackles he has cast upon us.”

There is no cheer to follow my speech, no battle-cry to bolster our spirits, for there is no need. Here in the Void, we are all creatures of Spirit, some more than others, and as such, it is our emotions which speak loudest. Righteous fury and brutal rage come to the forefront first, a palpable wave that sets me back on my heels, followed by a collective determination to see this through to the end. Without flesh to hold them back, their indefatigable purpose shines through as we charge forth as one to do battle with the true Enemy of mankind and his captured souls. Though we are outnumbered, we are far from outmatched, for there is a marked difference between an enslaved puppet fighting because they must, and a heroic spirit fighting for a just cause.

…That being said, I still maintain this would’ve been equally awesome if I’d memed on the Emperor instead of giving a whole speech, if not even more awesome.

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The Undying Savage.

A misnomer, as far as this Sovereign was concerned, if not the misappropriation of a lofty and exalted title by a transmigrator with delusions of grandeur. A paltry understanding of Healing enabling one to mend wounds in the midst of battle was hardly enough to be considered ‘Undying’, and barely even counted as enduring. Falling Rain was dogged and persistent, of this, there could be no denying, but to truly be considered ‘Undying’, one should at the very minimum attain an existence comparable to this Sovereign’s current state, an eternal being of spirit who’d witnessed more than a million sunrises and sunsets over the course of countless millennia. Mortals did so love their hyperbole, which explained why others called Falling Rain the ‘Undying’, but this Sovereign was even more confused as to how the boy earned the moniker of ‘Savage’.

Though hailing from a tribe of outlanders who’d long since made the Empire their home, Falling Rain was too well-spoken and well-educated to be dismissed as a mere savage, for if he were an uneducated brute, then the greatest scholars of the Empire’s history were only a single step removed from illiterates. The same could be said of the majority of his tribesmen, seasoned hunters and disciplined Warriors the equal of any elite military force the outer provinces could muster. Though their armour was made of treated leather rather than heavy steel, this was by necessity so as not to overburden their preferred mounts, the slender and powerful roosequins who the outlanders of old used so well to avoid this Sovereign’s slower, yet more powerful warhorses. Their steel weapons were of high-quality and craftsmanship, with an abundance of first-rate Spiritual Weapons scattered amongst them, the majority of which were polearms made from what appeared to be a natural vein of Spiritual ore. Not metallic, but mineral, yet one that blended well with steel and had been forged by gifted Divine Blacksmiths with skills that were no inferior to the grandmasters this Sovereign had come across in all his years. While such matters were outside his area of interest and expertise, he knew enough to see that Falling Rain’s people were far from the tribal savages his title depicted them as.

Any fool could have arrived at the same conclusion within seconds of interacting with Falling Rain, as there was nothing tribal or primitive about the boy or his people, so why then was he known as the Undying ‘Savage’?

A question this Sovereign never cared enough to investigate, but the answer presented itself forthwith as Falling Rain charged into battle at the head of his army of itinerant souls. During their previous exchanges, the transmigrator displayed a cunning and determination that matched well with his perceptive eye and inventive mind. His past life’s memories were significant, as they provided him with a perspective of the Dao unattainable by any other being currently existing in this world, but those memories only offered him an additional advantage which his clever self took full advantage of. One only needed to look at how quickly he adapted to know how formidable a foe he was, for upon seeing Sovereign’s memories, he responded with his own in an effort to shake this Sovereign’s Dao foundation. A weapon provided to him by the Heavens and fate itself, but one he used well by slowly building up this Sovereign’s expectations and leaving him no room for denial throughout the carefully controlled narrative. Then, when his gambit ultimately failed, he responded with a most appropriate question which allowed him to take control of the conversation once more, and he even knew enough to strike while the iron was hot, forcing this Sovereign to split his attention several ways whilst struggling to come to terms with the truth. Most impressive of all was all the improvements Falling Rain had made over the course of their exchanges these past few minutes, going from a feeble mortal largely ignorant of the Dao to a true Nascent Immortal learning how to wield the power of Creation and Destruction with little more than a thought.

All told, this Sovereign saw Falling Rain as a calculating man, a Warrior who relied largely on cunning, intelligence, and sheer determination to overcome the trials and tribulations before him, an impression which fell apart as the transmigrator shed all pretense of propriety and civility before diving headlong into the fray. There was nothing rational about Falling Rain as he did battle with this Sovereign’s captured court, no sign of the calm and collected young Warrior he once appeared to be, and in his place was a feral and untamed Warrior who fought with reckless and nigh on suicidal abandon. Every move he made was full of unchecked aggression as he led the charge from the vanguard, the tip of the proverbial spear wielding his sword and shield like twin blades to carve through his foes in a kill or be killed fashion. With a cruel smile etched across his face and a cold-blooded ferocity emanating from his gaze, he swept through the ranks of this Sovereign’s captured souls with the force of a typhoon and faded away like the receding tide, emanating a rousing tune of jubilant rhythm and triumphant glory all the while as he targeted the souls most capable of resisting. Sword Intent alone was not enough to destroy this Sovereign’s captured souls, yet it was more than capable of disturbing their carefully fixed states of Balance, for how could a soul be expected to hold onto Empty Balance when their entire existence erupted into agony enough to threaten eternal Death and Destruction?

A wolf among sheep, that was the impression Falling Rain gave off as he ran roughshod over this Sovereign’s court, a conquering hero no less influential on the battlefield than this Sovereign in the prime of his mortal life.

Watching him fight here was like seeing a consummate master of the arts at work, his actions and decisions seemingly so logical and ordinary yet rendering such unbelievable results. A single chop reduced a former Saint to nothingness the moment before he was about to unleash a powerful Earth-Blessed strike, for this was the very same Saint who raised the mountains Falling Rain hailed from. His second strike did away with the hundred and thirty seventh Emperor, a formidable Warrior Blessed by Darkness who possessed a considerable advantage here in the Void, yet Falling Rain’s Sword Intent cleaved clean through his defenses as the boy slipped through the battlelines like a fish in water. Though his attacks were undoubtedly powerful, there were souls far more capable than he, yet he picked them out and struck them down with almost laughable ease in a manner this Sovereign was unable to wholly explain. The boy understood warfare not on an intellectual level, but an instinctive one, capable of pinpointing weaknesses and targeting wherever his presence would have the most impact despite never having engaged in a battle quite like this.

In truth, this was a first for this Sovereign as well, for never before had he met a foe in possession of an army of vengeful souls, the remnant shards of itinerant Will left behind by the recently dead. Falling Rain’s army was comprised of Spectres by another name, only ones more complete, for time had yet to wear away at their Wills and consign them over to an Imbalanced existence. As if this were not enough, Falling Rain’s summoned souls possessed all the Prana they had left in life, the ineffable power of Life and Death that even Fifth Brother had been unable to quantify save to acknowledge its existence. While a living creature could not survive without Prana, this was merely a measure of their natural lifespan, meaning that those who died of unnatural causes like a spear to throat would likely to have plenty of Prana remaining.

And in contrast? The vast majority of this Sovereign’s court of souls had long since expended the lion’s share of their Prana, for though he had claimed their lives well in advance of their natural end, resisting his efforts to control them expended their Prana at a rapid rate. As such, even though this Sovereign’s court held the numerical advantage, they were largely a spent force, save for those collected in recent centuries who were as rare as qilin horns and phoenix feathers. Aside from the Solitary Sword Zhang Jun Bao, whose soul had been claimed little more than a week prior and was still struggling against this Sovereign’s Will, the most recent soul to enter into this Sovereign’s collection was the host’s soul, Liang Wu Sheng. The others had been in his possession for at least a century, for this Sovereign had grown highly particular regarding which souls were worthy of entering his collection. At the beginning, he took in every soul that caught his interest, but as time passed, he discovered that a flawed perspective could do more harm than good, so why partake of spoiled wine when one could study it with the other senses instead?

Oh how it pained him to see his collection destroyed out of hand, the souls of Emperors’ past consigned to oblivion by sword and spear. Useless though they might be, each and every one of those souls were a marker of his legacy, a step along his Path which brought him to where he stood now. Try as he might to engage his hateful opponent to stop him from destroying this Sovereign’s legacy, it was all he could do to stand firm against the torrent of vengeful souls assaulting him from all sides. It wasn’t their weapons which wounded him so, but rather the powerful Intents behind them, and not Weapon Intents either. There was power in Death, this much was known, and even more so in violence and hatred, so in spurring this army of itinerant souls to action against this Sovereign, Falling Rain had inadvertently harvested the fruits of what Death had bestowed upon his allies. All the hatred and animosity those vengeful souls possessed in life was now directed towards this Sovereign, all their enmity, grievances, ill-will, and resentment turned into weapons most potent, Manifesting as Intents which imbued their attacks with all manner of unresolved emotions and unfulfilled regrets which rent this Sovereign’s Will apart time and time again.

The rage of a father of who’d buried three sons.

The hatred of a woman who’d lost her innocence to Defiled.

The passionate fury of a noble unresigned to death.

The all-encompassing contempt of a Warrior willing to die for a cause.

This was but a minor fraction of the emotional assault hammering through this Sovereign’s very existence, threatening to Unbalance him and topple him from his Path, if not destroy his foundation all-together. The itinerant souls channeled their emotions in reckless ignorance of what it would do to their eternal existence, unaware of the price they paid to launch this ultimately suicidal assault, but this Sovereign suspected that even if they knew, these vengeful souls had lost any and all ability to hold themselves back after Falling Rain spurred them on to action.

A cruel act, to fool these souls so, wholly out of character for someone as naïve and compassionate as Falling Rain, which meant the boy had done so in ignorance. “Fool!” This Sovereign howled, his very existence imbued with agony and suffering both as he struggled to hold firm to his Dao. “Do you know what you’ve done? What price your comrades will pay?”

“Pray tell.”

So wry and smug, Falling Rain’s tone almost sent this Sovereign over the tipping point but he held firm to his conviction and screamed, “So brave in your ignorance, so cruel in your disregard, to treat your allies so. In victory or defeat, these souls will be naught but empty shells, spent vessels incapable of entering the cycle of reincarnation once more. In summoning them here to fight, you have stolen their chance to be reborn anew, consigned them to an eternity of oblivion, nihility and nonexistence.”

There was nothing left to say, and a good thing too, because this Sovereign could no longer find it in him to speak as the chaos came to an abrupt standstill. Bent double under the weight of emotion, he shouldered the dying regrets of thousands heaped upon him in less time than it took to blink an eye and was found wanting. Straining to retain sanity under this deluge of sentiment, he fixed his gaze upon Falling Rain who’d ceased his assault and recalled his army to his side with a concerned frown, for the idealistic little worm could not bear to sacrifice a few thousand dead souls for ultimate victory.

“Life Force?” The boy arrived at this answer almost immediately, before shaking his head in rejection, for he knew enough to know there was more to Prana than just life. “Not Death force either, nor is it Immortal Energy. Mortal Energy? Whatever, the name, it exists, and they don’t have much.” Casting his gaze across his army of souls, he studied the unchecked emotions etched across their faces for long moments in silence. Slowly but surely, his features stiffened as fell into a focused trance, no doubt having gleaned something from his thoughts in a moment of Insight or intuition. Raising his shield overhead, he held it not like an armament to attack or defend, but rather more like a symbol or emblem, the same way an Official would hold their Seal of Office up for all to see whilst delivering an order to the masses. “I will bear the cost of your efforts,” the boy declared, and a ripple emanated outwards from all sides, one which washed over his army with startling effect. One moment, those souls were full of hatred, rage, and grievance, and the next, their expressions all softened into ones of peaceful tranquility, a riotous mob calmed in an instant as they partook of Falling Rain’s Prana. “You have done more than enough,” Falling Rain continued, bowing his head in thanks as his army turned to regard him with reverence and respect unmatched. “I, Falling Rain, thank you for your assistance, and bid you all go in peace. May your next lives be better than this one.”

To think, this Sovereign had been brought so low by someone of such lacking determination, but he would be victorious at the end.

The army of souls offered the boy their respects before fading into the Void to be reincarnated anew, and soon enough, Falling Rain stood alone against this Sovereign and his court of souls. A much-reduced court, as more than half of those near empty husks been expended in the brief but intense battle and had faded into nothingness. No matter, for so long as Liang Wu Sheng’s soul remained untouched and this Sovereign’s sworn brothers intact, then all else could be sacrificed here today. Such was the price this Sovereign was willing to pay to see Falling Rain captured and tormented for millennia to come, to the point where he even intended to expend the Prana of his current and future hosts more liberally so that the worm could spend more time immersed and aware of his suffering.

Mastering his Will with sheer discipline and determination alone, this Sovereign drew himself up to full height to face his hateful foe, making no attempt to hide his contempt and derision. There was no regret on Falling Rain’s expression, but no caution either as he stood a man alone before this Sovereign’s army as if he held the upper hand. His shoulders relaxed and lips quirked in a knowing half-smile, he flourished his blade about in reflex, the very picture of casual contempt. “Don’t start gloating just yet,” the boy began, forestalling this Sovereign’s attempt to do just that, an alarmingly predictable habit he’d fallen into thanks to his Natal Soul’s undue influence. “They might’ve moved on, but the damage they’ve done is significant.” A fact this Sovereign could not deny, and one which almost sent him spiralling into a rage, only for the flames of anger to be doused in cold fear by Falling Rain’s following declaration, delivered in his customary egotistical fashion.

“Besides, that was only the first wave, and the real stars of the show will arrive soon enough.”

Chapter Meme 1

Chapter Meme 2

Chapter Meme 3