Savage Divinity – Chapter 688: Volume 38 – TBA

 

Author’s note: Ah shit, here we go again. All aboard the chapter train, back after exactly 3 weeks. Some of you might be like “Ruffs a liar, it’s been more than 21 days, reeeeeeeeeeeeeeee”, and to that, I say, “bitch please. I don’t have to justify myself to you.”

 

But I will.

 

See, the last chapter you all recieved was on a sunday. That means, my break didn’t actually start till the tuesday after, as I was busy writing on that sunday that i released a chapter on, and not relaxing with my dick in my hands as some of you might have erroneously assumed. Three weeks would then start from tuesday, not sunday, which means Today is EXACTLY three weeks of chapter releases later. Promised and delivered.

 

Boom. Lawyered. Now leave me alone. I’m back and surlier than ever, because my body has gotten used to naps again and life is miserable without them. These are the sacrifices I make to write SD, woe is me. I’m so woe.

 

Anywho, enough of my weird ranting. Enjoy the chapter!

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The pieces were all falling into place and victory lay close at hand, but Zhen Shi would not allow himself to fall victim to complacency.

 

Securing Falling Rain was the key to ultimate victory, for the savage runt was a veritable font of usable Heavenly Energy, the details of which even Zhen Shi himself was unable to wholly comprehend. In all likelihood, Falling Rain’s ability to create usable Heavenly Energy arose from the unique combination of his innate Devourer Talent and his assimilation of the Heavenly Tear, the Elemental Spirit he so fortuitously stumbled across in Sanshu. Fate working against Zhen Shi, of this, he was most certain, and it irked him to know young Gen had been born and raised in such close proximity to that same Elemental Spirit but failed to ever catch its attention. Even if young Gen had Awakened to the Blessing of Earth’s Fire, in what way was he inferior to a tribal savage with more luck than sense? What was so special about Falling Rain, for him to repeatedly stumble across such valuable treasures and unique Insights that made him a persistent thorn in Zhen Shi’s side?

 

By all accounts, the runt should have long since been neutralized and tossed aside, his defeat all but certain after Zhen Shi personally took action in Sinuji. There, he destroyed Falling Rain’s Spiritual Weapons and shattered his Core, but even now, the memory was bittersweet. Gazing upon the broken and defeated foe, Zhen Shi had mentally stepped back to allow Gen a moment to savour his glory. This was the rustic hunter’s crowning achievement, to be used by one as brilliant and talented as Zhen Shi, and Gen yearned to see the despair and dejection in his hated foes eyes, but even in defeat, the savage runt refused to accept his fate.

 

For instead of fear, denial, or any other reasonable reaction, Falling Rain’s response to his indubitable defeat was to chuckle and laugh.

 

Even now, more than a year after the fact, Zhen Shi was still unable to understand where it all went wrong. That moment should have been the end of Falling Rain, beaten and broken on the fields of Sinuji for all to see, his choices limited to surrender or death. So much effort had been put into this endeavour, not to simply kill Falling Rain, but to defeat him and bring him closer to the Truth, to show him the error of his ways and enlighten him to a better path, one he would walk at Zhen Shi’s side. In the savage runt’s lowest moments, Zhen Shi exerted his Will to inform Falling Rain of his alternatives, to draw him towards the Razor’s Edge and find True Balance within, for never before had there been a more promising subject so suitable to share Zhen Shi’s Path.

 

And yet, when faced with the prospect of imminent demise, the crippled runt had the gall to laugh out loud for all to hear. Madness is what it was, sheer madness, yet within his lunacy lay a bedrock of brilliance, one Zhen Shi yearned to explore and comprehend. Chosen, Transcendent, or Defiled, regardless of which choice the boy made, it would have suited Zhen Shi’s purposes well enough. Becoming Chosen would’ve left Falling Rain with most of his sanity intact and made it easier to study his unique steps along his Path, but even if the savage were to give into his despair and wholly surrender to become a Transcendent, Zhen Shi would still have benefited greatly. Not all Transcendents were born equal, and a Transcendent born from a host bearing an Elemental Spirit would have been formidable indeed. Even one born in close proximity to the Elemental Spirit had been able to harness the ambient energies released by the Heavenly Tear to become an indomitable Water-Blessed specimen, one which Zhen Shi made good use of in the past year, so how powerful would the Transcendent have been if the host of the Heavenly Tear were to surrender?

 

Exceedingly powerful, if Zhen Shi were to guess, though any fool could have arrived at the same conclusion. Perhaps it might even succeed and Shatter the Void unlike any Transcendent who came before.

 

Alas, the most optimal scenario would have been if the savage succumbed to despair without wholly surrendering, becoming akin to the tribal Defiled who amalgamated their souls with the Spectres, as opposed to the Chosen who segregated their souls in order to make use of the Spectres without most of the unfortunate side-effects that presented alongside the melding process. Though turning Defiled would have left Falling Rain locked in the throes of madness and made extracting usable answers from the runt more difficult, this Path had the most synergy with his innate Talent, for his Path to Divinity would have been near effortless so long as he continued to consume Spectres and consolidate them into his soul without first using the Heavenly Tear to first Cleanse them. This path would have firmly locked Falling Rain to Zhen Shi’s side, and it frustrated him to no end knowing that the runt would have long since become a pawn on his board if not for a maddening quirk of fate, but such was life, trials and tribulations without end.

 

Try as he might, Zhen Shi could not make sense of the Devourer’s Talent, aside from noting the process was remarkably similar to the birth of a Transcendent, wherein the host drew in a multitude of Spectres to fuel an unpredictable transformation process. A most useful Talent, especially if Zhen Shi could learn how to replicate it himself and maybe even harness it for his own use, but he would have to first seize the runt in order to uncover his secrets. Gen’s Talent of Oration, while not exactly common, was not all too rare either and only suitable for empowering others by convincing them to take on Spectres. Though Zhen Shi made good use of this Talent while he could to lure weak-willed fools to his cause, Gen’s well of passion and dedication to the cause has long since dried up and his remaining emotions were of no use. In contrast, if Zhen Shi were to uncover Falling Rain’s secrets, he could then empower himself without limit save for the number of ambient Spectres in existence, and he had long since mastered the art of Spectre creation by suffusing a subject with a careful balance of inescapable torment and unspoken hope. Despite his centuries of research and unparalleled intellect, True Divinity still lay out of Zhen Shi’s reach, but once he unravelled the secrets to Falling Rain’s success, he might well become the most powerful being alive on this plane of existence.

 

To this end, he could not afford any mistakes in his efforts to acquire Falling Rain, a feat made all the more difficult by the existence of the formidable Penitent Brotherhood.

 

Alas, he knew little of this monastic fraternity, for their downfall predated his birth in the Imperial Clan, an admission which came as something of a shock. The circumstances of his own birth should not have been surprising to him, but Zhen Shi knew he was not the true Zhen Shi, merely a Natal Soul created to take control of the malleable fool Gen. To have gaps in his knowledge was only understandable, as there was no sense in dedicating so much effort on a mere puppet, so Zhen Shi focused on controlling his host and arranging the assault on the Brotherhood as information from his true self trickled in.

 

It would have been much faster to have Gen coordinate with Vyakhya directly, but the excommunicated Wisdom had grown prideful in his exile, seeing himself as an equal to Zhen Shi rather than the defeated dog he truly was. Ego was the reason why the former Wisdom played his games, recruiting new monks from the ranks of the Defiled and Chosen while withholding vital information from Zhen Shi until the timing suited Vyakhya’s own needs. Even the promising Goujian had fallen under the monk’s sway, yet another pawn taken from Zhen Shi’s own board, one ruined by the stubborn ineptitude of a man too proud to admit his own mistakes. Vyakhya’s Path to Divinity focused too much on the body at the expense of the mind and soul, and it was laughable to watch the arrogant monk and his deluded student Goujian stumble about with concepts they could not comprehend. Such fools to believe that their admittedly powerful physiques could be considered a Spiritual Heart, blind to the fact that increased physical abilities were merely a byproduct of the refinement process as opposed to the actual goal.

 

No matter though. Goujian was never Zhen Shi’s first choice, as he was too old to make proper use of, and while there were still a handful of other promising pawns, none of them would matter once he had Falling Rain in his hands again.

 

Of course, Gen was also a useful puppet, one whose strengths far outweighed his minor shortcomings, which was why he would be Emperor while Falling Rain would merely be a subject to study, but all that would come in good time.

 

According to Vyakhya, the Abbot was the Brotherhood’s sole Divinity now that the Destroyer had been taken off the board, and the former Wisdom was confident in his ability to contain his former friend and associate. Erring on the side of caution, Zhen Shi enlisted the help of the three Divinities standing before him, all trusted allies to the cause who would be first to benefit from the acquisition of Falling Rain. The first was a hairy, hulking Ancestral Mammoth whom Zhen Shi himself designated as the Behemoth, a towering figure the Imperial Clan had yet to come into contact with. With his colossal frame, rough hewn features, and enormous tusks jutting out from under his bushy, brown beard, there was nothing pleasant about the Behemoth’s appearance, while the crude sledgehammer crafted from the bones of a gargantuan beast left no room for doubt. A Defiled Ancestral Beast, the Behemoth hailed from the northernmost frozen wastes, the Chieftain of his own tribe where his powerful half-blood spawn formed the backbone of his forces, all of whom inherited his prodigious innate strength and size. Though quite mad and nearly blind from living so many centuries in near pitch-black darkness, he was fiercely loyal to Zhen Shi after being defeated in single combat, a simple task considering the Behemoth’s atrophied intellect and lacking comprehension of the Dao. Pure physical might and durability might seem impressive to a mere mortal, but as a Divinity, the Behemoth was far from impressive, a shortcoming Zhen Shi hoped to make up for once Falling Rain was firmly in hand.

 

The second Divinity was one native to the Empire, someone who helped the original Zhen Shi escape from Imperial pursuit all those centuries ago, and had remained undetected ever since. An Ancestral Badger by the name of Shih Yang, the formidable woman had remained a staunch supporter of the Treaty and trusted ally to the Imperial Clan until the Defiled were knocking at the gates of the Western Wall, at which point she revealed her true allegiance alongside that of her formidable son, the Pirate King Huanhuzi. Without the bandit’s help, it would have taken Zhen Shi’s forces significantly longer to overrun the Imperial defenders and take a foothold in the Western Provinces, even with the Mataram Clan sabotaging the defences from within, and so Zhen Shi was suitably polite to his benefactor and ally.

 

Last, but not least, was yet another Imperial Native, Mataram YuKon, former King of the Mataram Clan, ancestor of Mataram YuChun, and Zhen Shi’s most successful Disciple to date. Born a lowly branch clan member who dreamed of greatness, YuKon’s venomous personality marked him as a pawn to be used, so Zhen Shi contacted the lowly labourer and guided him along the Path. Though merely one of many such pawns, YuKon was the first and only one to ascend to Divinity thus far, for even though Zhen Shi was able to supply them with the necessary guidance to walk them through the process and direct them to much needed resources to help them along, even he himself was unsure how to successfully Shatter the Void with a one-hundred percent chance of survival. As such, YuKon’s success was something of a fluke, but his greatest value lay in his ability to take control of the Mataram Clan and lay the groundwork for future generations to join the cause, all without the Imperial Clan ever taking note of his existence or ascension. Had Yo Ling succeeded in Sanshu, the bandit might well have become another of Zhen Shi’s successful Disciples, but the hateful Falling Rain had put an end to that. Goujian was yet another candidate, but in his weakness, he’d given himself over to Vyakhya, meaning Zhen Shi would eventually have to deal with the fool before matters got too out of hand.

 

All this was a matter for the future though, so he instead focused on the task at hand. These three Divinities were not the strongest of his allies, but they were the most loyal ones Zhen Shi could call upon, and they were also the least likely to be noticed on the journey to collect Falling Rain. Though he would have preferred to have a fourth Divinity come with them, he could not afford to pull too many away from the front lines, lest the hateful Imperial Clan become tempted to disregard their own treaty and strike without warning. The Behemoth had power enough to overcome any threat the Divine Turtle might present, given how it had only recently ascended and would also be sorely lacking in comprehension. Shih Yang was there to keep Vyakhya honest, or at least as honest as the snake could be, while YuKon would deal with any unpleasant surprises, like the possibility of a fully recovered Abbot playing the pig to eat the tiger. Having long since identified most of the Divinities guarding Falling Rain, Zhen Shi was confident the boy would have two with him at most, with the others dead, injured, or guarding the Saint’s Tribulation Mountains and Western Border. Even if Falling Rain had more Divinities to protect him, it shouldn’t matter too much, as the greatest threat lay not in their destructive prowess, but rather in the speed with which they could bring the runt away. Killing Falling Rain was easy enough, so long as Zhen Shi was willing to sacrifice another Divinity, but if that were the case, he would much rather sacrifice Vyakhya than any of the Divinities loyal to his cause.

 

No, the Divinities were only there to ensure Falling Rain couldn’t escape and keep his own Divinity Protectors from breaking the Treaty without retribution. If all went well however, not a single Divinity would even lift a finger in battle, for Zhen Shi was loath to unleash such destructive power upon the lands he intended to conquer, even if the destruction could be contained to the Arid Wastes. Instead, the success of this mission largely depended on the Wraiths and Chosen of Heaven, one thousand hand-picked Warriors whose strengths ranged from notable Expert to Half-Step Divinity. This was the definition of an Elite force, packed full of the strongest Wraiths at his beck and call as well as the most powerful and disciplined Warriors of the Mataram Clan, all of whom were clad in various sets of Runic armour. According to Vyakhya, the Brotherhood monks were largely pacifists, but Zhen Shi had seen one such monk dispatch two powerful armoured Transcendents in a single move, so he refused to leave anything to chance. Unless the Brotherhood comprised of nothing but Peak Experts and Half-Step Divinities, then victory was all but assured, but death and destruction was not the goal here today, a fact he repeated once more, just in case.

 

“Remember,” Zhen Shi said, fighting the urge to look at any of the Divinities lest they think his warning for them, “Falling Rain must be taken alive, no matter the cost.”

 

“Hmph.” Cutting a stately figure in his flowing Western robes, Mataram YuKon seemed like nobility personified, right down to his superior, holier-than-thou attitude. “The Warriors of the Mataram Clan are second to none, but only those of the royal blood may command them.” An odd stance to take considering YuKon himself was a branch clansman, meaning his ancestors had likely been inducted into the Clan at some point or another. These days, YuKon’s kinsmen claimed they were descended from the blood of Kings, but the true Mataram Bloodline had been ended by YuKon himself, when he ascended to the role of Patriarch and had the relatives of his rivals all murdered, right down to the last man, woman, and child. Even the chickens and dogs had not been spared, as Zhen Shi remembered his pointed amusement at how YuKon had interpreted the common idiom as a literal command.

 

And now this uppity, low-born pretender had the gall to look down on Zhen Shi, just because this Natal Soul was inhabiting the body of a peasant. “Though this Sovereign has changed in form,” Zhen Shi Sent, while graciously apologizing out loud for overstepping his bounds, “I am still your Mentor and benefactor, so you would do well to mind your manners, little worm.”

 

Pride and disdain flashed across the Divinity’s eyes, a pretender like all others who dare lay claim to the title. Others would call Zhen Shi himself a Divinity, but he cared not for the appellation, for it reeked of falsehood and needless pomp and pageantry. No doubt chosen for that very reason, to flatter and fawn over those who Shattered the Void, yet failed and faltered at the final step, only to plummet from the true heights of the Heavens above back down to the mortal world below. Though they stood above all others, these so-called Divinities were still mortals at the core, subject to the rigours of time and the laws of this world, just like any other.

 

“No offence taken, Junior Brother,” YuKon said, replying to what was said out loud and ignoring Zhen Shi’s Sending. “This Senior has been remiss however, for surely the future Emperor should have more substantial ties to the Mataram Clan. I shall speak with my family about finding you a suitable wife, one with the requisite prestige to lift you from your otherwise humble origins.”

 

A concession followed by a backhanded insult, YuKon’s peevish attitude vexed Zhen Shi to no end, for young Gen deserved nothing less than a bride from the so-called Royal family. YuKon’s talented grandson YuChun had two sisters, and even if he had more, they would still be beneath Gen’s notice, for the future Emperor would have his pick of the most eligible ladies of the Empire, and neither of YuChun’s sisters were Martial Warriors.

 

Take the higher road. YuKon is but a junior in the esteemed Zhen Shi’s eyes, and this merely a bit of harmless banter.

 

Yes, yes, of course. Zhen Shi was above such mundane trivialities, and what did it matter if YuKon insulted Gen? The peasant deserved it, for he was nothing without Zhen Shi, and though the boy was merely a pawn and puppet, he would still be rewarded greatly for his service. That was deserving of gratitude, if nothing else, for Zhen Shi would be well within his rights to simply kill young Gen once he was no longer of any use.

 

No, such a time will never come. Young Gen was a vital piece on the board, and his loss would spell defeat for the cause.

 

Putting his grievances aside, Zhen Shi studied his forces once more, this time turning his attention to the Half-Step Divinity Wraiths, a rare breed to be sure. Only fifteen survived the arduous creation process, of which three lost their lives in the Northern Citadel during the ensuing chaos following the assassination of Yang Jixing, a costly investment that failed to profit in anyway whatsoever. As Legate of the Outer Provinces, Falling Rain continued to be a persistent thorn in Zhen Shi’s side, perhaps even more effectively then he had as a mere Warrant Officer. The various Districts were especially concerning given how quickly the run was turning his sizable militia into passable crossbowmen, to say nothing about the alarming speed with which the military was coming around to the usage of catapults and bolt-throwers. Though Zhen Shi yearned to follow suit, the Western Province lacked the necessary lumber and iron required to mass produce those deadly weapons of war, especially now that the hateful Rang Min had closed off all smuggling operations out of the North.

 

No matter. Falling Rain would soon be in hand, and Zhen Shi would uncover the secrets hidden along the savage runt’s Path, and soon enough, he would have the means to create as many Half-Step Divinities as needed.

 

Lastly, rounding out their party was Wisdom Vyakhya himself, a senior with a hunched back and frail demeanour unbecoming of even a false Divinity. A sign he ascended late in life and had yet to truly understand the Dao, else he could have easily undone what the ravages of time had wrought upon his aged and ailing body. This former Wisdom tried to excuse himself from this excursion and send another monk in his stead, but Zhen Shi insisted Vyakhya come along in person. Though bringing four Divinities might seem excessive, the Brotherhood was not the only threat they needed to defend against, for there was no place more dangerous than the Arid Wastes. The lands outside the Empire were harsh, barren, and inhospitable, but outside of the tribesmen who inhabited it, hardly hostile. In contrast, most of the creatures inhabiting the Arid Wastes seemed tailor made to murder every living thing that crossed its path, with more Chi-capable creatures per square kilometre than anywhere else in the world. Thankfully, these ruinous beasts were either unable to cross the scorching desert dunes or confined to them by the nature of their existence, so the rest of the Empire was safe so long as they steered clear of the Arid Wastes.

 

Thus, in order to navigate these hostile lands, a certain set of skills was required, or at least such was the case according to Vyakhya. To facilitate their safe arrival, accompanying them was none other than Rakshasa, a Spiritual Tiger larger than even the king of all warhorses with an appetite to follow suit. Day after day, the man-eating beast dined on human flesh, most times while his meal was still screaming, and his targets chosen with little rhyme or reason. Despite the nuisance of losing Experts, Chieftains, and more, Vyakhya vehemently defended the tiger for many months, and for good reason. Rakshasa possessed the requisite skills to traverse across the Arid Wastes unharmed, so Zhen Shi was pleased he tolerated the beast’s presence for the last year or so, instead of slaughtering it to craft a Spiritual Weapon for one of the Mataram Clansmen.

 

Vyakhya’s Disciple Sayan was conspicuously absent, the Peak Expert monk with the ridiculously long eyebrows still recovering from his injuries. Mitsue Hideo had been given one simple task, to capture Zheng Luo alive and bring her back for interrogation, but the fool lost a thousand elite Warriors and Vyakhya’s Peak Expert Disciple almost died. Those damnable weapons were a menace to behold, those Spiritual Launchers crafted by the fiery red-headed Sumila, and Zhen Shi sneered at yet another sign of Falling Rain’s fear and weakness. Why else would he go to so much effort to bring mundane ranged weapons to the battlefield? Because he had no faith in the strength of arms of the Imperial Army and was desperate to try and balance the scales.

 

An annoyance, nothing more, for even though his ranged weapons were fearsome, they were still based upon a flawed premise. Might made right, and not even a million crossbows would change that, as Zhen Shi could easily avoid so unwieldy an army to strike at easier targets elsewhere. The Spiritual Launchers were concerning, but not only were they limited in number, they were largely in the hands of insignificant Warriors of piddling strength and of limited effectiveness in the overall battlefield. Besides, Spiritual Weapons in and of themselves were flawed to begin with, as over-reliance on borrowed strength only weakened the user in the long run. As for monk Eyebrows, his injury was life-threatening, but easily Healed if not for Vyakhya’s insistence on using this near-death experience as a stepping stone to future success. Zhen Shi himself had long since tested and discarded this method, for the risk far outweighed the reward, for even success limited the future of one’s Path. What sort of Divinity ascended through near-death? A disgrace, that’s what.

 

Which was exactly what Zhen Shi considered the faithless Goujian, who turned coat more often than others bathed. Where he once was to be Zhen Shi’s own Disciple, the Bloody Confessor had now thrown his lot in with Wisdom Vyakhya, and the results were telling indeed. Though not quite as imposing as the Behemoth, Goujian’s powerful new physique dwarfed Gen’s and stood head and shoulders over most. Where the Ancestral Beast was covered from head to toe in shaggy, unkempt hair, Goujian’s exterior was complete hairless save for his lustrous, black eyebrows, which stood out against his smooth, porcelain white skin. What’s more, while other Warriors of giant stature had a tendency to appear too lanky or too thick, Goujian’s body was chiselled to perfection, lean and muscular with immaculate proportions perfectly symmetrical in every way that mattered. At first glance, one might think his appearance had been sculpted by the Heavens themselves, his handsome and masculine features neither aged nor youthful, but timeless and without flaw. Clad in plain, Runic robes and standing with hands clasped behind his back, Goujian emanated power and poise in equal amounts, a human Emperor standing amidst his subjects rather than a mortal among Divinities.

 

The Bloody Confessor had succeeded where so many failed, and impressive though the results might be, it was nothing more than a fluke in Zhen Shi’s eyes. As noted earlier, though Goujian could now be considered a Half-Step Divinity, his Path was still riddled with unacceptable flaws, which made it unsuitable for adoption by the masses, which was Zhen Shi’s end goal after all. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, Goujian would have died from his wounds and would not be standing before them today, and while it was impressive to see him make it this far without needing to draw from Zhen Shi’s limited supply of usable Heavenly Energy, a flawed Path was still flawed, no matter the outcome. This was the limit to Goujian’s Dao, for how could his ‘Human Path’ ever lead to Divinity, especially when borrowing so much from the inferior Beast Path?

 

And thus, all of Zhen Shi’s forces were laid out for this attack, a piddling force compared to what lay ahead. Though supposed pacifists, the Brotherhood’s values were malleable at best, and though they did not seek strength for the sake of battle, their mastery of the Dao made them formidable foes to be reckoned with. Alas, he had no more readily available forces to call upon, because even though there were plenty of tribal Chieftains to call upon, Zhen Shi needed the savage runt taken alive, a task the crazed Defiled were ill-suited for. As for Transcendents, they were little more than fodder for the Devourer now that he’d wholly merged with his Elemental Spirit to become the Predator in truth, and Zhen Shi had precious few Chosen strong enough to be of any use, most of whom could not be spared from their posts. While Gongsun Qi, Huanhuzi, Mao Jianghong, and various other formidable Chosen would be most welcome in this endeavour, the war effort would falter and fall apart without their leadership to guide their efforts.

 

Would this be enough? Despite the presence of so many formidable heroes, Zhen Shi was still not wholly certain of victory because there were just far too many variables to account for, the greatest of which was Falling Rain himself. The hateful worm was just full of unpleasant surprises, managing to somehow avoid death and defeat at every turn and emerge triumphant time and time again. First Sanshu, then twice in Sinuji, and even in the Citadel and during the withdrawal from Castle JiangHu, Falling Rain played a pivotal role in foiling so many of Zhen Shi’s best laid plans. Now, despite all his meticulous efforts and careful preparations, he was still unsure if his forces were strong enough to deal with the unpredictable savage, for who could say what he would do next? The Wraith attack should have been more than enough to deal with the cripple, yet somehow, he managed to not only reforge his Core, but his Spiritual Sword as well, which he used to then slaughter his way through the host of improved Wraiths sent to capture him alive. Even now, having reviewed the scenes of battle time and time again, Zhen Shi was at a loss to explain the savage runt’s prowess, his Martial might having risen to the pinnacle of Peak Expert without touching the line that crossed over into Half-Step Divinity. The Mountain Collapsing stomp was the least impressive of his exploits that night, as not only was he able to see through the Wraiths’ improved Concealment and Shadow Image abilities, but he also wielded his sword with supreme skill as he danced atop their bloodied corpses, taking grievous injuries in exchange for dealing deadly blows time and time again.

 

And now, he had his Spiritual Shield in hand as well, making his capture all the more difficult…

 

Even Goujian might not be Falling Rain’s match in single combat, not if they wanted to take him alive, so Zhen Shi was uncertain if it was wise to continue along this path. Better if they just killed the runt outright, but then all his secrets would die with him, at least until Zhen Shi had time to unravel them through blind trial and error. How long would it take to replicate the Devourer’s Path? First the Talent, then the Elemental Spirit, and who knows what else, taking Falling Rain alive could save centuries, if not millennia of experimentation, even for someone as brilliant as Zhen Shi. The risks were well worth the reward, even if Vyakhya, Goujian, Gen, and all the Chosen and Wraiths were to be sacrificed in the attempt.

 

But Gen would not die, not with Zhen Shi in control. No, Gen’s life was perfectly safe, for he still had his uses.

 

There was nothing else for it but to set forth, and Zhen Shi Cloud-Stepped along in Vyakhya’s wake as the monk sat cross-legged atop Rakshasa’s back. The Spiritual Tiger was surprisingly adept at utilizing Chi, blessed as it was with extraordinary intelligence, and there were times when Zhen Shi almost suspected the beast was capable of cognizant thought beyond what it’s instincts demanded. The creature was no tame pet like those of Falling Rain’s menagerie, but rather a partner to Vyakhya here of its own free will, a powerful ally to be sure. Moving with effortless grace and agility, it bounded through the sky in eager haste as its tail lashed back and forth, Concealing its presence by erasing invisible marks as it scented the air in search of prey. There was no caution to its movements, no wary hesitance one might find in others of its kind, for Rakshasa was an Emperor of tigers who stood at the pinnacle of bestial might, a true paragon unlike anything Zhen Shi had ever witnessed before. Between this and the Divine Turtle, he’d already made a note to study other such animals in depth to see if there were more examples of these paragon creatures, but the war efforts demanded too much of his time and attention to spare any for leisurely research. No matter though, for this was mostly to satisfy his academic curiosity anyways, as there was no chance a beast could ever ascend to True Divinity. They knew it as well, which was why their Path culminated in starting over as an Ancestral Beast, so that they might tread a different Path, one with an actual chance of sucess.

 

Following the tiger’s lead, Zhen Shi’s party arrived at the Arid Wastes without incident, though few knew how much effort had gone into making this happen. Simple Concealment was far from enough to hide four Divinities and a thousand combatants from watchful eyes, as they only made it this far because Gongsun Qi was currently launching an all-out attack on the Central Citadel. A costly distraction, but again, one well worth the cost once they had Falling Rain in hand, and an even trade without the runt. Useful as maps and diagrams might be, it was a poor substitute for first-hand experience, which Gongsun Qi’s army sorely needed. The war effort was for the Colonel General to manage however, so Zhen Shi focused his attention on the dangers around him, for their party was now slowly descending to the sands. “Razor shrikes above,” Vyakhya sent, in reply to Zhen Shi’s wordless question. “Small, fast, agile, and fearless, meaning they are best avoided if we wish to arrive in full strength. Even this monk would not survive the attentions of a crazed razor shrike, for their favoured method of attack is to hurl themselves into soft eyes and throats in order to burrow deep into their target’s innards.”

 

Scanning the skies for this threat, Zhen Shi saw nothing, but he sensed the presence of the deadly birds once Vyakhya drew his attentions to them, for they could not be seen because they were all Concealed. The realization sent a chill down Zhen Shi’s spine, and he vowed to set time aside to study more of these beasts in-depth sooner rather than later.

 

Once the danger passed, they followed Rakshasa’s lead once more, who was no longer so prideful now that he was back in familiar territory. Every few steps, the formidable tiger froze in place, its head swivelling and nostrils flaring as it sensed a nearby threat. Minutes passed in tense silence and Zhen Shi sweltered beneath the oppressive heat, the sun shining bright overhead as they made their way through the endless sea of sandy dunes. The further they progressed, the slower the tiger moved, until finally, it stopped in place and curled its lips in a silent snarl, its body hunched, hackles raised, and claws unsheathed.

 

“What is the problem?” Zhen Shi Sent, only belatedly noticing the tremor in his voice. Ridiculous is what it was, Sending was a function of the mind, so there should be no reason for his voice to shake, but his anxiety bled through all the same. There was danger here, a threat he could barely sense and couldn’t perceive, a subtle –

 

And then the desert faded away, and Gen was back home in bed, with sweet Qing Qing nestled in the blankets beside him.

 

Panting as he came to, he blinked the sleep out of his eyes and studied his beloved in the morning light. “What’s the matter, beloved?” she asked, stroking his chest in tender concern. “Did you have a nightmare?”

 

“Yes,” came the admission, before Gen could stop it. “It was horrible.” Wrapping his arms around his sweet, precious Qing-Qing, he trembled in her warm embrace. “You were dead, and so was Da, and Ma, and everyone else.”

 

“All dead by your own hand, no less.”

 

“…What?”

 

Unable to understand what Qing-Qing just said, Gen leaned back to study her beautiful face, only to see her familiar soft smile waiting to greet him. “You don’t remember?” She asked, in that same playful tone she used to use to tease him when they were younger and the best of friends. “You killed them, Gen. Beat your Pa bloody, you did, with your own two hands no less. How did it feel?” There was no mockery in her tone, as if she were asking how his day went, but Gen recoiled in terror all the same.

 

“You’re not Qing-Qing.”

 

“Of course not silly.” As she sat up in bed, the sheets slipped away from her naked body to reveal the injury that killed her, a set of ugly, rotting lacerations that went deep into her belly and oozed pus and blood as she ran her fingers against them. “And these? Did you forget these too? You didn’t do this, but you might as well have.”

 

Leaping out of the bed with a strangled cry, he bolted out the bedroom only to find Pa and Ma waiting for him in the living room, their bloodied, bloated features exactly as he last saw them. “Why, son?” Pa asked, his single working eye unable to focus with half his skull caved in, and cheeks purple from lack of air. “Why’d ye kill us? Were we bad parents?”

 

“We loved you so,” Ma said, raising her mangled hands to stroke his cheek, and he was unable to tear his eyes away from her array of injuries, cataloguing how she’d been beaten and abused by Laughing Dragon’s Firebrands before they roasted her alive on a spit. “We still love you, even after all ye done.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Gen sobbed, reaching up to take his mother’s hand only for her to wince and jerk away, for his bladed, metallic fingers had inadvertently severed what was left of her maimed hands. “Oh Heavens above, I’m so sorry.”

 

“Sorry ain’t gonna cut it now, is it?” The baritone voice came from behind and Gen pivoted to see poor Bei’s father laid out next to the stove, while Bei herself carved strips of flesh from his chest. “Sorry ain’t gonna bring us back,” the butchered body said, watching him as he lay there helpless and afraid. “Not a single one. We’re all dead thanks to you.”

 

“Dead because of your weakness,” Deng said, as his twisted, broken body dragged itself through the front door.

 

“Dead because of your failures,” Kash chimed in, and Gen remembered how the three of them had always been inseparable until he killed them both with his bare hands.

 

“Join us, son.” Pa said.

 

“Join us.” Gingerly taking his wrist with her remaining hand, Ma pulled Gen close for a hug.

 

“Join us.” Bei and Qing-Qing completed the circle, and Gen could not bring himself to move away from their warm embrace. “Join us.”

 

Surrender.

 

A rumbling growl sets his bones to shaking as it pierced him to his core, and his metallic hands chimed as the world came into focus around him once more. Gone were his parents and everyone else he’d just seen, and instead he was surrounded by familiar faces he could not quite place, all of them glancing around in disoriented confusion so similar to his. The massive tiger emitted yet another raspy snarl, and Gen felt the sand shifting beneath his feet, angered by this challenge to its authority. The old, decrepit monk appeared in his sights, studying him with a curious expression. “Nightmare Wurms,” he Sent, with a shrug that wasn’t quite an apology. “Quite deadly, and one of only a few invertebrates capable of utilizing Chi. To devastating effect, as you no doubt experienced first hand, able to incite dread, horror, and despair in their prey through the use of mental illusions. They weren’t always so vicious, but they developed a taste for darker Heavenly Energy and learned how to best develop it. Yet another mis-step along this monk’s Path, though the Abbot is not without blame, for it was the development of his Spiritual Garden which led us down this unfortunate track.”

 

Unable to understand half of what the monk was talking about, Gen tried to find his bearings and understand why he was out in the desert with so many strangers, but for the life of him, he couldn’t –

 

FOOLISH WORM…

 

Glaring at Vyakhya, Zhen Shi studied the crafty Wisdom for long seconds before deigning to speak, his words chosen with the utmost of care. “You were unaware of the threat?”

 

“I knew of the nest,” Vyakhya replied, with yet another half-shrug. “But they are usually dormant this time of the year. Someone must have recently passed by and roused them from their slumber, or perhaps our group was too tempting a target to pass up.”

 

Lies and deception. The monk wanted to see how Zhen Shi would react, and now he knew this form was susceptible to these insidious mental attacks. The tiger was more than capable of warding off the threat, but it didn’t act until Vyakhya allowed it to. The weakness was Gen’s, not Zhen Shi’s, but he was vulnerable all the same, a shortcoming with no simple solution in sight. Unwilling to fall out with the Wisdom here, Zhen Shi feigned acceptance and gestured for the monk to continue on. There would be a reckoning in days to come, but until Falling Rain was in hand, Zhen Shi had no choice but to tolerate Vyakhya’s insolence.

 

Once Zhen Shi unravelled the secret to controlling limitless amounts of Heavenly Energy, no one would stand in his way. Not Falling Rain, not Vyakhya, not even the Dog Emperor himself, for Zhen Shi would be unto a True Divinity, and then this world would know true suffering.

 

Chapter Meme

 

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