Chapter 423 (Rough and unedited)

Sorry it's late, but I need to start writing shorter chapters. 4.2k words -.-

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1g_TElDooRDqlVCjxPwloxCfalTS3cLYAYzstZTxmuSg/edit?usp=sharing

Number One Talent in the Empire?

What a load of bull shit.

I’m not even the Number One Talent in my marriage.

With her prodigious strength and comprehensive skill, I’ve always been stuck in Mila’s shadow, and Yan’s feat of mastering the Divine Wind and External Chi is downright astonishing considering she has yet to form a Natal Palace. Then there’s Lin who, despite never training a day in her life, has mastered the art of Lightening to a degree in which I could never hope to match, a true prodigy in the flesh. Having three magnificent future wives keeps me humble with respect to my talents, but after seeing Luo-Luo’s breathtaking performance of the Forms, I’m seriously beginning to question if I can even be considered mediocre.

I mean... c’mon! This isn’t fair, Luo-Luo literally started learning how to fight a week ago! Ten days and already she’s doing awesome air kicks and chain tricks. Although she didn’t do anything which defied the laws of physics, her performance bordered on the supernatural, her control over the chain so utterly flawless she made it seem alive in ways I didn’t even think were even possible. If I tried to do the same, there is a 100% chance I’d injure myself. Shit, I still to pay attention so I don’t smash my foot with Unity or accidentally impale myself while sheathing Peace, and don’t get me started on how many outfits I’ve torn after forgetting I was still wearing Tranquility.

And to top it all off, Luo-Luo is still styling on us, standing like a diva in her stupid, post performance pose. This sucks.

Noticing something I must’ve missed, Yan runs to Luo-Luo’s side and arrives just in time to catch her as she falls. She didn’t stumble and trip, but instead suffered a full-on fainting spell, complete with the dramatic gasp and back-of-the-hand to forehead drivel you see in shitty dramas. Unsure if she’s faking or if she genuinely reacted like a two-bit actress, I nonetheless head over to make sure she’s alright. Maybe it’s the cynic in me but I can’t help but wonder if her whole ‘helpless sex-kitten’ act was just that, a complete ruse meant to lower my guard so she could... I dunno. What if she’s a top-tier assassin sent here by the Legate to ascertain my loyalties and eliminate me if I prove a threat to national security?

...No, that’s stupid. Not the Luo-Luo hiding her true skills part, that’s still plausible, but I doubt the Legate would bother placing an assassin at my side. Ignoring all other arguments, I’m hardly worth the effort.

Covered in sweat and gasping for breath, Luo-Luo makes for a captivating sight, even more so when cradled in Yan’s gentle embrace. One slender and petite, the other full-bodied and buxom, the juxtaposition sets my heart to racing as I imagine what it’d be like to have them both in my bed. I was joking with Yan about having her court Luo-Luo, but now I can’t stop thinking about it. Does Yan swing both ways? The concerned look in her eyes tells me... maybe? Did Luo-Luo’s Imperial Servant training include same-sex shenanigans? Considering Red One’s many subtle and not-so-subtle propositions, probably?

So many questions...

Like, why does Luo-Luo look so damned sexy today? Last night, she wore a dress so skin-tight her maids probably sewed her into it, but I barely gave her a second glance. Today, she’s wearing a thick leather vest over a high-collared shirt and poofy silk pants which are tied off at the ankles, hardly the most flattering outfit she’s ever worn, yet somehow, I can’t take my eyes off her. Given that her bosom and butt are modestly covered, it’s difficult to pinpoint what’s got me so heated up. Maybe it’s because her cheeks are flushed with a healthy, robust glow instead of its usual pasty paleness, or it could be how her hair’s done up in two, dishevelled buns with bangs plastered to her forehead, giving her an enchanting, post-workout sexiness.

Or maybe I’m just attracted to strong women. Did getting my hand broken by Mila’s thighs awaken something in me? Or is this because of my self-flagellation and tooth-breaking training regimen which got me in this mess? Oh gods, am I going to turn into a sexual deviant who begs his wives to hurt him?

“Rain.” Yan’s honeyed timbre jolts me out of my spiral of self-misery and my palms instantly begin to sweat. Sweet and cordial though she sounds, she only uses this voice when she’s upset and trying to hide her anger. “Luo-Luo must be parched after her taxing binding ceremony. Why don’t you be a dear and offer her your water-skin?” Her agreeable suggestion is subsequently followed by a scathing private Sending. “What’s the matter with you? Luo-Luo faints and all you do is stand and stare? Didn’t you study herbalism? Help her!”

Yan’s condemnations continue, but I put them out of mind and check on Luo-Luo. Though tired and thirsty, I see no immediate cause for concern regarding her condition, not physically at least. “Are you feeling dizzy? Seeing double? Does it hurt anywhere?”

Too busy to answer, I’m left holding the water-skin as Luo-Luo greedily guzzles water with a voracious thirst, a tantalizing sight if I ever saw one. After draining the water-skin dry, she leans back to rest in Yan’s arms, her chest heaving and smile sheepish as she answers between gasps. “Thank you. Lord Husband. No dizziness. Double vision. Or pain.”

“Your Healer’s conduct is terrible,” Yan Sends, her heated glare filling me with burning desire. “Be more gentle and compassionate, she’s your concubine not some random stranger you found on the side of the road.”

Oh no. I can’t be saved. I’m too far gone. Even verbal abuse is enough to get my gears cranking. If I didn’t have an audience of three-hundred odd cows, I’d strip down and jump them both, right here, right now. I still might if I see Luo-Luo suckling another water-skin, so I suppose it’s a good thing I only had the one. “Are you still thirsty?”

I sure as hell am.

Shaking her head, Luo-Luo averts her eyes and gasps, “No thank you. Lord Husband. Luo-Luo only needs. To rest. Her head.”

“Mother in Heaven, stroke her cheek, fix her hair, take her hand, do something you half-wit. How you convinced three women to marry you is a complete mystery.”

Between Yan’s overbearing dominance and Luo-Luo’s submissive compliance, it takes every scrap of self-determination I have not to drag them both to my yurt for some afternoon delight. How Luo-Luo convinced everyone to side against me is the real mystery, but I hold true to my convictions and resist the sweaty, busty temptress, though at great cost to my sanity.

It helps that I also had sex three times this morning, but the important thing is, I endured.

As her breath recovers, Luo-Luo explains what Yan and I already suspected, that her binding ceremony is complete and her weapon bound. Clutching the flail to her chest, Luo-Luo’s smile is one of pride and satisfaction, as well it should be considering what I just witnessed. Seeing as the binding ceremony takes place in one’s mind, how much you learn from it is usually left to chance, but Luo-Luo’s phenomenal performance shows she benefited a great deal from the mystical process, even if her actions were largely influenced by the echos of her ceremony and it’s up in the air as to how much she retained. Still I’ve never seen someone go from zero to hero so quickly before, a powerless concubine transformed into a mighty, morphing Martial Warrior just by binding a Spiritual Weapon.

I still think she could’ve been hiding her skills, but it could also be due to her Imperial Blood or possibly even her personal latent talent. Imperial clansmen are supposedly bad-ass to the extreme, and since Luo-Luo’s a first-generation Imperial Servant, it probably means she has a pedigree long enough to fill a bookshelf. Does that mean she’s predisposed to being an incredible Martial Warrior? If their servants are this talented, what does that say about the Imperial Scions themselves? The Legate looked a little young for a Cloud-Stepping Expert, but I chalked it up to his noble upbringing and all the advantages which come with. What if all Imperial Scions are innately OP like Luo-Luo, an extended family of natural born warriors possessing consummate skill?

Man... Why don’t they fight this stupid war then?

To celebrate Luo-Luo’s amazing accomplishment and appease Yan’s scorching anger, I play nice and give Luo-Luo a firm but tender pat on the shoulder. As this does nothing to pacify either of them, I instead offer to cook a celebratory lunch, if only so I can send Yan back to wake Lin. Sadly, this backfires almost immediately as Luo-Luo is too tired to walk and still deathly afraid of Moomie and friends, forcing me to chase after Yan and beg her to Send a message to Song in camp. It’s not that I don’t want to carry Luo-Luo, but I certainly don’t trust myself to. Yan, Mila, and Lin might have fallen for her charms, but I’m wise to her tricks.

Either that, or I’m a paranoid idiot refusing to sleep with a gorgeous woman who’s all too eager to please. Then again, that’s a huge part of why I can’t trust her. What possible reason could she have for being so interested in me? She’s gotta have an ulterior motive.

After a few minutes of stilted conversation and awkward silence, Song rides to the rescue with all my floofs, most notably, Mafu. Swamped by a jumble of fur, fangs, and claws, I happily reunite with my bears, wildcats, and quins, laughing so hard I almost forget to breathe. Even though I saw them yesterday, they’re still not entirely convinced I’m sticking around, so all of them, even grumpy Jimjam, are being extra affectionate. The bears gurgle like stalled motorboats and Aurie Mwar’s, Myarh’s. and Myawp’s up a storm, filling me with more joy than I could ever explain as I greet each of my fur-babies with a hug and a kiss.

...Okay yea, now I see it. I thought Yan and Luo-Luo were being over-dramatic, but I can see how it totally looks like I’m being cold and aloof to hurt her. I’m not though, I just a man who loves his floofs.

While I feel bad for Luo-Luo, certain actions must be taken to guard against temptation and avoiding physical contact is one of them. Thus, instead of doing the smart thing and making Banjo and Baloo walk, I let the former cling to my shoulders while the latter curls up in my arms, and implore Song to help Luo-Luo onto Mafu’s back. While carrying both my bears is pushing my limits, the camp isn’t far and I think I can make it, right up until Aurie decides he wants in on the fun and effortless hops onto my shoulders. Knees buckling beneath my floofy burden, I Reinforce for all I’m worth but it still isn’t enough, and I slowly sink down until all three animals Lighten to lend a hand. My encumbrance dropping almost as quickly as my jaw, I stare the animals in conflicted admiration, because as marvellous as this is, I now know that even my pets are more talented than I am.

Seriously unfair. How did they even learn? Did they all figure it out individually on their own or did someone teach them?

Although Banjo, Baloo, and Aurie’s efforts have made the burden bearable, their combined, Lightened weight is still enough to turn what should’ve been a short jaunt into a veritable death march. Amidst the cheers and jeers of my retinue, I arrive at my yurt sweaty and exhausted to find Song and Luo-Luo sitting in wait, having heartlessly ridden ahead so they could get started on lunch. While the exhausted concubine reclines against Mafu’s massive bulk, Song’s tail twitching from side to side, visibly distressed by my tardiness. Clapping her hands once, my floofs react as if a bomb went off as they scamper to her side, where they sit prettily like trained show-dogs waiting for a treat.

I’m so jealous. How come they never listen to me?

With the pets out of the way, Song motions towards the roaring fire where a large pot of water sits waiting to boil. Beside it are all the ingredients and utensils required to cook soup noodles and dumplings, with choice cuts of pork and mutton laid out nearby, her way of telling me what she wants to eat. After two months of dried field rations, last night’s feast wasn’t enough to satisfy Song’s craving for real food. Even though we found plenty of livestock and wild game around Sinuji, standard protocol meant cooking fires were restricted to officers only while at base, but since I got it in my head to lead by example and follow the adage ‘all for one and one for all’, I shared in the woes of my retinue and wholeheartedly regretted every minute of it.

Going with Song’s unspoken suggestion, I set to cooking pork broth noodles and pan-fried mutton dumplings. Remembering this was supposed to be Luo-Luo’s celebratory lunch, I belatedly ask if she has any special requests. She doesn’t, which makes things easier, but I still feel guilty in light of how I’ve inadvertently been mistreating her. Studying her out of the corner of my eye, I try to make sense of the tall, beautiful stranger snuggling with Mafu and where she fits in my life. Drawing a complete blank, I instead turn my attentions to steaming up some red-bean buns for dessert, which I assume she’ll enjoy solely on the basis that everyone likes red-bean buns.

Seriously, what do I know about Luo-Luo? Pros: she’s smart, hardworking, and evidently, an incredibly talented Martial Warrior. Cons: she’s cunning, manipulative, and doesn’t love floofs, aside from Mafu, who has somehow gotten even fatter in my absence. She’s gorgeous, which is good, but her loyalties are suspect, which is bad. She says she wants to help me ‘soar through the Heavens’, but what happens if she’s forced to choose between me and the Legate? How can I trust her if she’ll spill everything she knows at the wave of a fan? How am I supposed to keep so many secrets from a member of my family?

Okay. Yan wanted me to be nicer, so what I need to do is figure out how to do that without succumbing to Luo-Luo’s feminine wiles. Cold and aloof is too mean, but any closer and I’m worried I’ll lose all self-control, so what am I supposed to do?

...Go back to the front lines, I guess.

Sadly, that isn’t a viable option, but luckily, my sweet and adorable wifey arrives to protect me from Yan’s bullying. With Lin and cooking demanding all my attention, there’s nothing Yan or Luo-Luo can do, especially since the latter is half-asleep with exhaustion. Easing my worries and brightening my day with her lovable smile and lighthearted stories, Lin is a breath of fresh air after a suffocating encounter. Don’t get me wrong, I love spending time with Yan and our morning was both enjoyable and enlightening, but I don’t deal with conflict well and once the topic of Luo-Luo reared it’s ugly head, my easygoing half-deer lover turned stubborn and intractable as a bull.

I don’t understand women and I doubt I ever will, but at least I’ll always have sweet Lin on my side.

Thankfully, lunch is a rousing success and everyone eats their fill, especially Luo-Luo who devours more noodles and dumplings than the rest of us combined. Perhaps embarrassed by her impressive feat, she excuses herself to go tend to my business and Yan leaves with her for a scheduled retinue training session. Lin and Song stick around and we spend our time playing with the floofs. While I was gone, Lin taught them all sorts of adorable tricks, including how to clap, bow, wave, and jump, so she had the bears, wildcats, and rabbits put on an impromptu talent show to show off, much to my delight.

Sadly, it can’t all be fun and games as I also had responsibilities to tend to, so once the curtain fell on Aurie and George’s disappearing bunny act (which was just George burrowing into Aurie’s floof), I left to take on the daunting task of putting the pieces of my retinue back together. Once everyone was gathered, I raise my hand for silence and looked over the crowd, noting so many missing faces and absent friends. With a determined effort, I instead focus on those who remain and especially those who need my help. “Well,” I say, smiling at the crowd. “We marched, we fought, and we bled for sixty days straight, but most importantly, we survived.”

A short cheer rings out as the survivors celebrate their safe return, and I’m happy to hear it. I’m an idiot for keeping them on the front lines for so long, but all the self-recrimination in the world won’t change the past, so there’s no point in coming clean. I’m not doing this to save face, but because many of my soldiers take pride in what we accomplished. While working for the Number One Talent in the Empire might sound nice, they all have a personal stake in the record we achieved on front lines and I don’t want their pride tainted by knowledge of my ignorance and stupidity.

Also, it’s super embarrassing.

Once everyone quiets down, I continue. “We survived, but our work is not yet done.” A few faces in the crowd grimace while others grumble in discontent, but I speak over them without stopping. “We survived, but we are far from safe, for the machinations of Enemy are subtle and insidious.” That shuts the dissenters up, as they understand the risk of Defilement far better than I do. I’ve got a mental void packed with Spectres and absolutely nothing to worry about, but they can’t do what I do and they don’t know what I know. I see worry written all over their faces now that I’ve brought it up, no longer able to ignore the quiet little voice in the back of their minds telling them all is not well. They grew up hearing stories about the Enemy, they’ve heard all the warnings and know all the signs, and now every one of them is wondering if their friend, their neighbour, or even their lover is too far gone to save.

A handful are even self-aware enough to worry about themselves.

“We survived,” I say, emphasizing this again. “We survived because we fought side by side. We fought in teams, units, squads, and as a retinue, but whatever the designation, we worked together to fend off the Enemy.” The last thing I need is for my people to turn on one another out of fear or paranoia. While I know it isn’t true, proving it is... difficult, to say the least, and I could do with the threat of the Purge hanging over our heads. “What do you do when you see a comrade struggling on the battlefield? You help them, plain and simple.” Despite doing my best not to single anyone out, my gaze lingers on a few troubled individuals, like Awdar, Jinoe, Ravil, and Ulfsaar. “We are still on the battlefield, albeit fighting a different sort of battle, but nothing’s changed. You think someone needs help, then provide it. If you cannot, then find someone who can, whether it be your group leaders, your sergeants, your squad commanders, or even myself. For though the Enemy is subtle and insidious, I do not believe the brave warriors who fought at my side will succumb to the Father’s hateful lies, especially when we. Fight. Together.”

As much as I wish my speech was met with thunderous cheers and victorious fist-pumps, my lacklustre oration and ham-fisted delivery only earn me a smattering of claps. I’m not too worried, especially since I know there are no Spectres around to bother them, but positive mental attitude is important. I know all too well the dangers of spiralling depression and how much help a friend can be. Granted, my friend was imaginary and I was just talking to myself, but I like to think Baledagh had an overall positive impact on my life.

Honestly though? I kinda wish Mahakala didn’t lift the fog, so to speak.

Or you know... didn’t die. That would’ve probably been better.

After dismissing the crowd, I once again lead by example and follow through with my advice. “Ulfsaar,” I call, knowing many will see and hear what I’m doing. “A word?” The hulking, intimidating half-bear tries to hide his snarl, but he doesn’t try very hard. Swallowing my fear, I clap Ulfsaar on the shoulder and ask, “How do you feel about cattle?”

“They are delicious.”

I’d laugh, but I don’t think he’s joking. “Well, too bad because you can’t eat these cattle.” Pointing at my mixed herd of wild, dairy, labour, and meat cows, I say, “What do you see when you look at them?”

“Food.”

“...Beyond that.”

“No word games,” Ulfsaar snaps, his fists balled at his sides. “Speak plainly.”

Refusing to back down, I narrow my eyes and wait until the big guy reins in his temper, his expression regretful, yet also unrepentant. He’s sorry he spoke out, but believes he was right to be angry, except he doesn’t really understand why he’s angry. “You once told me you studied bears in order to seek your purpose.”

“A mistake,” he growls, now angry at his past self. “I am no beast.”

“True, but that doesn’t mean you can’t learn from them.” Pointing at the herd again, I say, “Take another look and tell me what you see.”

“I see dumb, smelly animals chewing grass like the placid beasts they are.”

“Good. Now think back to the first time you saw the herd, a day’s west of Sinuji. They were chewing grass then too. Did you notice anything different about them?”

“...No.”

“Exactly.” Seeing his confusion, I continue, “Here, they are safe and sound, but out west, they were surrounded by dangers, yet in both cases, they remained calm until a threat presented itself. Like you, they are strong and powerful, and like you, their temper is fierce to behold, but you’ve forgotten how to let go of your anger.” Growing defensive, Ulfsaar growls, a hoarse, guttural sound which sets my bones to shaking, but I press on. “We spent a lot of time surrounded by danger, so you held onto that anger because you think the anger makes you strong, but it doesn’t. Anger is a crutch, one you’ve come to rely on too much, so it’s time to change that.”

“What do you know, child?” Ulfsaar’s reaches out to grab me by the neck, but the ring of weapons unsheathing stays his hand, his people, the warriors he brought from Sanshu, all ready to cut him down should he lose control. Leading them is his sweet wife, the equally massive Neera, her eyes filled with sorrow as she gazes at the man her husband has become, and Ulfsaar deflates before her scrutiny.

Waving his people away, I continue speaking as if he didn’t just try to kill me in his rage. “I know that despite your prodigious strength, you are a man who loves peace. I know that given the choice, you would never again turn your weapon against a living foe, and you pursue Martial Strength because you seek the Mother’s lessons within the Forms. I know that you followed me here out of a sense of obligation more than loyalty, because despite my objections, you still believe I am the Mother’s Chosen Son. I know you recently formed your Natal Palace, yet your strength has stagnated, and most importantly, I know why. Throw away the crutch, Ulfsaar. You don’t need it. You have people you can rely on if you need help to stand.” Patting his arm, I conclude my speech through Sending, so no one else will overhear. “Release your anger and seek Balance, else next time, I fear I won’t be close enough to save you from the Father’s agents.”

It’s a risk even implying I can do what I do, but I trust Ulfsaar. I never told him what I did back in Sanshu when I ripped the Spectres from his soul, but he’s always suspected, which I assume is why he still follows me. My gambit pays off as Ulfsaar’s eyes widen in surprise, and after a long, excruciating pause, he nods. That’s all he does, but it’s enough. “Your command?” he asks, his voice quiet and subdued, a good a start as any.

With a triumphant grin, I point at my herd a third time. “Make sure they don’t run off and pick out the best candidates for mounted training. You and your boys are too slow on your feet, so I’m thinking its about time we gave you some personal transport.” Plus, I think it’ll be good for Ulfsaar to look after a living, breathing creature instead of killing it, and it saves me from having to hire cattle-hands.

That’s like, three birds with one stone. Great value. Much savings.

After hammering out the details, I leave Ulfsaar to it and move on to my next project. “Anyone seen Awdar?” I ask. “I’m going to beat the shit out of him and burn his drugs. You guys wanna help?”