Chapter 413 (unedited and unregulated) (Patreon)

Again, mostly unedited. I actually thought I could sneak the whole Lang Yi and Red One battle prowess bits into chapter 411, but brevity is not my strong suit. Anywho, this is a little early because i have plans every sunday and figured there was no point delaying the release.

That said, there are now five (unedited) chapters on Patreon! Wooo semi-success! With luck, tuesday's chapter will be fully edited, but temper expectations because i still haven't edited 409 for RRL. As I stated in another post, I want to have fully finished chapters on Patreon, but I urge you all to read the RRL chapters too, because I may make sweeping changes to the chapters before releasing them on RRL. Also memes, which i assume is like 75% of why you all love my writing so much. it's all about the memes. But yea, RRL chapters will be canon, while patreon chapters may be subject to change.

Again, I hope to have fully edited chapters here on Patreon, but it may take a little time to happen, so bear with me please.

Also, I haven't decided if I want to release 409 on tuesday yet. if I don't, then there will also not be an advanced chapter on tuesday, because I'll be busy editing. When I post on RRL, there will 100% be another chapter on Patreon, which will always be 5 chapters ahead (until i clone myself and force him to write more chapters like the slave he was born to be).

Anywho, enjoy!

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1bB2d59O6Z2DXvn1U-_QejUPmEXHkzQA8FLMuR3Sfl5Y/edit?usp=sharing

With as much authority as I can muster, I shout over the din of Defiled battle cries. “Drive them back from whence they came! Charge!”

Ugh... what am I saying? Whence? Who talks like that? How embarrassing. Luckily, being at the front of the fray means I’m spared the sight of my cringing soldiers and instead set my mind to the task at hand, killing Defiled. Upon unleashing my Aura, I encounter resistance from the Enemy Champions who have done the same. Bolstered by Auras from Red One through Five and Jochi, both sides immediately reach an uneasy equilibrium, the typical outcome one can expect on the battlefield. While I can’t sense the exact number Auras we’re up against, judging from the... density, for lack of a better word, I’d say there are at least ten Aura’s emanating from the Defiled. There could also be more Champions who have yet to use their Auras and are instead saving their strength, so my Beyblade Aura is definitely not the path to victory. I might be able to grind three to five Auras down, but when the dust settles, there’ll still be plenty of Aura-capable Defiled on the battlefield while I’ll be drained of Chi and essentially useless.

Sadly, my cool and awesome Aura hacks are only useful for duels and small scale encounters. It sucks, why can’t I be overpowered for once?

Doesn’t matter. The time for tricks, tactics, and maneuvers is over and done with. Now, we must meet the Enemy in open combat and carry the day through our superior skill and equipment. It helps that the Defiled are wicked stupid and armed with primitive weaponry, meaning bone weapons and leather armour against iron and steel. I know who I’d put money on, and it ain’t them. Even though there are more Defiled than expected, I’m confident my soldiers will carry the day, for not only have they yet to let me down, they’ve exceeded all my wildest expectations.

And thank the Mother for that. It’s about time something went my way.

A shoe-in for most improved, Lang Yi leads from the front as usual, a force to be reckoned thanks to the hellish training regimen he religiously kept to since regaining his freedom. Meeting the Defiled with jet-black spear in hand, the Elder Lang brother claims the first kill of the night with a thrust of his spear, only a fraction of a second before the younger claims the second, in the exact same manner no less. Fighting side by side, the brothers look like carbon copies of one another, so eerily similar I sometimes wonder if Lang Yi learned how to clone himself. It’s more than just their clothes and appearance, which admittedly are exactly the same, everything from their shaggy, unkempt hair; their grim, unyielding scowls; their lean, predatory builds, and even down to their Sentinel-issue undies, but the similarities go even deeper. Their movements are so identical and coordinated it sometimes feels like one is an echo of the other, their actions separated only by the briefest of interludes. From the way they set their feet to how they thrust their spears, its like watching one mind direct two bodies through the exact same motions. They even have the same throbbing vein in their necks, the only indication of agitation over facing their most hated Enemy.

All of Lang Yi’s companions in slavery share the same zeal for bloodshed, their eyes wide and cheeks red as they set to slaughtering the Defiled. Their focus so complete, not a single one utters more than a grunt, their battles fought in complete silence as if to trap all their hatred and anger inside them, but their wide-eyed expressions speaks volumes to their rage. Merciless to both their enemies and themselves, the former labourers are soon covered from head to toe in scrapes and cuts, some less superficial than others. Despite how far they’ve come thanks to their hard work and dedication, the simple truth is they haven’t trained for long enough. They’re not strong or skilled enough to block or dodge, so instead they settle on trading blows with their opponents and Healing their injuries through Panacea. Compounding the issue is their lacking Chi reserves, which again can be attributed to their short careers. The slowest ones only formed their Cores a few months ago and even the fastest have been Martial Warriors for less than a year, and impressive as their progress has been, they still need time to develop, which is in short supply.

Luckily, their long exposure to Spectres has left them with impressive physiques, or perhaps, more accurately, an innate mastery of Reinforcement, allowing them to use this most versatile of Chi skills at a reduced level with minimal drain, an advantage I think I share. I’m not sure how it works, but seeing as how all Defiled across the board are inherently stronger than most mundane bodybuilders, I’d assume it has little to do with physical anatomy and more to do with mystic mumbo jumbo. Then again, what do I know? Although I’m stronger than I look, it’s nothing compared to Mila’s hidden reserves, a herculean brute in the form of a sexy, fiery, freckled goddess of the forge.

I miss her so much, and Yan and Lin too. And sex, god I miss sex. I’d gotten used to celibacy after the first year or so, but now I remember what it’s like and I can’t live without it. It’s not the physical act I crave, but more the affection and intimacy that comes with, a brand of familiarity you can’t get anywhere else. Sometimes, when I lie in bed at night, I can still feel the warmth of Yan’s skin against mine, our bodies intertwined as her quiet moans and hungry eyes feed my desire to continue –

A resounding clang interrupts my erotic reminiscence and I dispatch the offending Defiled with a punch to the throat, Tranquility’s twin blades puncturing clean through. Nodding at Red One to thank him for the save, I find the quiet yet imaginative Death Corps soldier already locked in a power struggle with another foe, his shoulder bleeding profusely because I was off in La-La land. Fatigue is no excuse for my distraction, because everyone in my retinue is fucking tired. I need to get my head back in the game.

Re-invigorated by anger and guilt, I charge forward and impale the closest Defiled. With a flick of my wrist, I send the corpse crashing into Red One’s opponent and freeing him from the potentially fatal bind caused by my mistake. Despite his tendency to misread my intentions, Red One takes the advantage with of my assistance and finishes his opponent off with a headbutt to the face, a rough and tumble warrior who places substance over style. Scuttling through the field of mud and over a sea of corpses, Red One scurries to my side with a bashful look, likely ashamed he left my side for all of a second. All of the Death Corps take their body-guarding duties seriously, and it’s really cramping my style on the battlefield. Literally cramping. Red One and Two stick so closely I can’t even swing my giant honking glaive without bumping into them, leaving them both at high risk of accidental dismemberment. When I brought it up, Red One just nodded and said, “Worry not, Commander. Our lives and limbs are yours to claim whenever you wish.”

So tiresome.

It’s not their fault. Their intentions are good and their slave Oaths won’t allow them to stand idly by, but sometimes, things would be better if the Death Corps took things down a notch. Like just now when I was spacing out, I wouldn’t have suffered a fatal blow and could’ve Healed back up in a jiffy, but it’ll take Red One several days to naturally heal from that unlucky strike, because Healing with Chi isn’t high on the Death Corps’ skills to practice. They’re more interested in learning more efficient ways to kill and Akanai forbade me from teaching the how to use Panacea. At any given moment, the Legate or any Eastern fop with more authority than brains could demand the return of my (technically Luo-Luo’s) Death Corps Honour Guard and then our secret will be out.

Suicidal tendencies and trust issues aside, the Death Corps live up to their reputation and more. Most soldiers of the Empire and Defiled approach massed melee’s like a series of duels, where each person finds an opponent and dukes it out. This doesn’t mean no one will interferes, but most of the time, pitching in to support your friend often hurts more than it helps, like the Red’s and myself. Not so for the Death Corps. Individually, they’re fairly average Martial Warriors, worse than the all-Captain Purge force I fought alongside in Sanshu and almost on par Wang Bao’s cutthroats, but in massed battles their Death Corps training shows through. Packed together tighter than a can of sardines, Red Unit fights in unified groups of three to ten and present the Defiled with an iron wall of death. A curious mix between sword and spear, their weapons are designed for this type of coordinated conflict, the straight blade measuring one third of the weapon and the haft making up the rest of the two-meter-long weapon. Favouring short thrusts and measured chops with their heavy pole-arms, the Death Corps throw back every Defiled charge with laughable ease, and those few attacks which do get through are seen off by their dark plate armour.

The true testament to their defensive prowess is that while every other unit has suffered some casualties, I have yet to lose a single Death Corps soldier. Injuries a plenty, for sure, and those injuries hamper them more than the other members of my retinue, but with their strict, uncompromising discipline, tight-knit formations, and heavy plate armour, the Death Corps are easily the most professional fighting force I’ve ever seen. With Red Unit forming the core of our defence and Lang Yi’s labourers interspersed between the gaps, we’re evenly matched against the Defiled horde despite their overwhelming numbers, and I’m confident the tides will turn in our favour the second Li Song arrives with Squad Three.

Until such a time arrives, I rein myself in and do my best to mesh with Red One and Two. It’s easier said than done, since cooperation requires communication and none of the Death Corps ever speak more than absolutely necessary. Even then, Red One has offered to ‘serve at my pleasure’ more times than I can count, which makes me uncomfortable regarding his motives for repeatedly bringing it up. Either way, I’m slowly getting used to fighting in their style, though our teamwork is still spotty at best. I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve tried to dodge an attack only to crash into someone beside me, and even though Unity’s glaive form looks similar to the Death Corp’s weapon of choice, its not balanced properly to be used the same way. When fighting in groups, the Death Corps choke up on their weapons and hold it just below the blade, whereas trying to hold Unity the same way makes my forearm cramp up.

Minor issues in the grand scheme of things, but the fact that I can focus on these little details means things are going well.

I’m still annoyed at being saddled with Daxian the Virtuous, but Lord of Thunder Lei Gong is a welcome addition to the team.

The minutes crawl by and the pressure on my soldiers abates, but still the Defiled press on. Heedless of their losses, they charge headlong into our defences and drive us back through sheer weight of numbers. I’ve learned better than to try to coordinate an orderly withdrawal on the fly, so instead, I do everything I can to bolster morale as the Defiled force us back one step at a time. Despite it being to our advantage to back away, it still feels like losing, which matters more than I’d like.’

Seeing two of Lang Yi’s people dragged down and hewn apart, I grit my teeth and choke down the urge to end the battle now. I could do it as easily as turning my hand but I choose not to, which means every death and injury sits firmly on my shoulders. I have my reasons, but no matter how logical or compelling those reasons might be, it never feels good to be responsible for someone’s death. Almost as if to reassure myself I’m doing the right thing, I go over the facts in my head despite knowing it won’t make me feel better.

Crazed and mindless though the Defiled might be, their actions are driven by the Spectres urging them on, which means the second I start Devouring, the Defiled tend to break and run. Now this sounds all fine and dandy, but every Defiled killed now is one less Defiled we face later. While it feels like trying to bail a sinking ship with a teaspoons, enough teaspoons working together might just do the trick. Despite my doubts and reservations, I’m doing my part in the war against Defiled, but it’s my soldiers paying the price.

I didn’t free them to die for me. Why couldn’t they just live happy and fulfilling lives on the island, far away from all this death and misery?

Jaw sore from clenching my teeth, I endure until Li Song and Squad Three arrive to bolster our defences and ease the pressure on my faltering squad. Barely a minute later, the longbows of the Protectorate sing as they unleash volley after volley of deadly arrows into the Enemy’s exposed flanks, the agile woodsmen moving much faster through the dark fields than the heavily armoured Death Corps. As expected, the Defiled are too berserk to break off a force to deal with the unseen Protectorate and instead fixate on the enemies right in front of their faces.

The Spectres demand bloodshed and aren’t too particular about whose blood it is.

Things are going exactly as planned, but even then I can’t help but fret. Jochi is feeding me Daxian’s sporadic reports, and even though it sounds like they’re doing well, I have to clean things up soon. Rustram’s squad holds most of my heavy hitters in Wang Bao and Ulfsaar’s units, but they’re still massively outnumbered. The minutes tick by and the Defiled horde dwindles away before my eyes, until finally, as the sun rises behind us, I decide enough is enough. Drawing on the bottomless void in which my Natal Palace sits, I set to devouring the loose Spectres haunting the battlefield. Bereft of their hosts, the murderous spirits wail and screech as I drink them in by the hundreds to become Heavenly Energy. Even though our victory is all but ensured, guilt surges through me as I watch the surviving Defiled turn tail and run, leaving me victorious and none too happy because the cold hard truth is unpleasant to stomach.

I’m exchanging the lives of my soldiers for Heavenly Energy.

I wish it were otherwise, but that’s how it is. Fact: I can’t Devour Spectres attached to a host. Fact: Once I begin Devouring, the Defiled stop fighting and flee. So what do I do? I stand aside and wait, watching my soldiers fall one by one until I feel like there are enough free-floating Spectres to warrant ending the battle. How many soldiers did I lose today? How many of them will make it back to SuiHua or back to the North? This isn’t a game where I can just queue up more faceless soldiers from the barracks, every life lost is precious and priceless. While my gains have been substantial, I still have no idea how to use Heavenly Energy efficiently and I’m unwilling to waste something my soldiers gave their lives for.

“Cheer up,” Argot says, patting me none-too-gently on the back. I don’t know when he arrived, but he’s covered in blood like the rest of us, and I’m grateful for the help. “You won a great victory here, but no one would know with you looking like you swallowed... a fly.”

Cognizant of the message he’s trying to pass on, I raise my voice so my soldiers can hear my reply. “This great victory has little to do with me, for the credit belongs to my brave and stalwart soldiers.” Some of whom lay dead around me. As my words are passed down the line, cheers break out to celebrate their victory and their continued lives, but I find no joy in victory.

For though the battle is over, the day has only just begun. We still have a day of westward travel ahead of us, which means the Defiled will be back, and in greater numbers. That’s the way of things out here on the front lines. Sleep and fight, eat and fight, march and fight some more. There’s no end to the fighting, no end to the dying, and at the end of the day, nothing ever changes.

Now how’s that for a motivational poster?