Chapter 837 unedited unmemed (Patreon)

Author’s Note: To get to new stuff that hasn't been posted, search for the @@ rather than the ~~, cuz there are a lot of ~~

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1oFwAVjgc51mzYAzJoL5DqnG3RRF6Kq8L4NPywiIKDmI/edit?usp=sharing


Eyes darting over to stare at one particular patch of sky, Lin-Lin squinted as hard as she could, but still couldn’t make out her beloved hubby, despite knowing he was right there.

Things had to be really, really bad though, because it sounded like he needed her help, but she was more than happy to lend a hand however she could. Even though she wasn’t a Warrior, Lin-Lin was still really strong ya, so if hubby needed help shouldering the Heavens, then she would do her best and give it her all, because hubby never, ever, ever liked to ask for help. It was so silly, his stubborn insistence on doing things his way and making all the mistakes himself, but at least he learned from them eventually.

Arms wrapped around Luo-Luo’s waist, Lin-Lin nuzzled into the tall woman’s embrace and rested her head against Noodle’s soft, supple body coiled underneath the dress. Opening herself up to the Heavens, she reached for Balance and yawned deeply as she always did, believing Luo-Luo would keep her safe, and from the way she moved an arm to shield her, Lin-Lin knew she’d guessed right. There was no helping it though, because hubby needed help and this was the only way Lin-Lin knew how to, which meant falling asleep on the battlefield even if it wasn’t the most convenient place to do so.

Grumbling under her breath as Noodle shifted under the dress, Lin-Lin held back a girlish giggle. So lewd, letting Noodle crawl around under there, but if it made them both happy, then who was Lin-Lin to judge?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Holding the precocious Ancestral Hare close, Luo-Luo didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the sight of Lin-Lin falling fast asleep mid-battle.

The poor girl had probably pushed herself too hard, running and jumping about the battlefield as if it were one of Lord Husband’s obstacle courses, only a thousand times more deadly, if not more. Wincing at the sight of her blood staining Lin-Lin’s dress, Luo-Luo fussed about for a clean handkerchief but came up short. Blood was supposedly notoriously difficult to wash out, or at least that’s what Sorya and Anrhi claimed, and Luo-Luo had no reason to doubt them. Oh how she hoped they were well in Meng Sha, and that they would get away before another Defiled army came to lay siege to the fortress once more. Though the battle was still not over and Luo-Luo’s spirit burned with courage and determination both, her body was unable to match her ambitions as her strength and vigor fell short. The pain of her abraded fingers was almost nothing compared to what the soldiers endured here today, but it still troubled her so, mostly because the pain kept her from playing in proper time since she kept flinching every time she plucked a string.

With nothing else left to her, Luo-Luo raised her eyes to the clear skies above as she hummed beneath her breath, for singing had never been her strong suit. It wasn’t that she couldn’t sing, more that there was nothing outstanding about her vocals, which contrasted all the more when paired with her phenomenal instrumentals. Though the song she hummed was every bit as in tune with the Heavens and the battlefield around her, Luo-Luo wasn’t sure why she’d chosen this specific melody which differed so greatly from the song she played on her zither. Not until her weary mind finally remembered where she’d last heard this tune, a silly little ditty with nonsensical lyrics which Lord Husband taught Tali to sing. A doting uncle he was, always full of smiles and hugs whenever he saw them, and Luo-Luo knew in her heart of hearts that he would be a fine father as well, assuming he ever saw fit to put a child in her belly. One only needed to look at the way he cherished his beloved pets, and looking after children could hardly be any different, right?

The worst part was she couldn’t even be angry about his refusal to bed her, because his reasons were so sweet and stupid, because he had long since won her heart, yet still he hesitated to take her. A wonderful, loving man, her Lord Husband, and Luo-Luo hoped he was doing well, though she knew not why she thought of him and this melody just now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The hound’s mournful, panicked howl gave the wolf a great fright, one which was doubled as he watched his packmate disappear before his eyes.

Blinking twice almost got him killed as the Demonic Divinity continued to fight, a feral thing of claws and fury which didn’t fight like man or beast. A tricksy one, especially since the wolf had fought only to distract it for the hound to Devour in one gulp, only for the floppy-eared glutton to miss his cue and disappear moments before he was to strike. Annoyed though he might be, the wolf was worried for the little hound, who was so silly and stupid that it belied all belief. How was it possible for a creature so innocent and inexperienced to conflict and competition to have survived long enough to attain Divinity? Once this battle was over and done with, he’d been planning on teaching his packmate how to better survive, but now he’d just up and vanished into thin air, leaving only a vague sentiment urging him to hurry up and follow along.

Swatting the Demonic Divinity aside, the wolf grumbled up a storm underneath his breath while struggling to come to a decision. Keep the Demon alive for his packmate to eat, or go on a killing spree and possibly ruin their hunt? Lashing out with a handful of Claw Intent, he crushed the Demon’s head with a single strike before moving onto his next target. No sense faffing about waiting for the hound to return, like a lovesick sea wife waiting by the docks for her sailor of a husband. If the hound missed out on his meals, well then he had no one to blame but himself, so maybe he would learn a thing or two about leaving his pack in the middle of a hunt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eyes filling with tears of joy and pique both, Mila’s nose scrunched up into something halfway between a smile and a grimace. “Idiot,” she thought, hunkering down behind her shield and bracing for yet another boneshaking block, one she Deflected as much as she could yet still almost knocked her off her feet. Happy as she was to find that her beloved husband had remembered how to ask for help, she couldn’t help but resent his poor choice of timing, or the vague manner in which he asked without any words or instructions to follow. What sort of help did he need? A Chi infusion like what Lin-Lin shared earlier? If so, Mila had no idea how to go about doing so, especially since she had no idea where Rain was at the moment. Was he nearby, fighting Zhen Shi in Concealment? He had to be, and if he was here asking for help with his hat in hand, then his fight most certainly wasn’t going well. Oh how she wished he would stop being an idiot and just say what he needed, but he persisted with his vague impression of required assistance without uttering so much as a word.

It was times like these when Mila wished she could fall head over heels in love with a woman, but much as she loved her sister-wives, she still preferred Rain’s affections. His roaming hands, his eager lips, his hungry stare, the mere thought of this was enough to send a chill down her spine and set fire to her loins. A craving she could do without at this very moment, and one she lacked the energy to sate even if the battle ended this very moment, not that she thought Rain would even want her. Not only had she been stuck fighting in Shi Bei for the better part of fifteen days, she couldn’t remember the last time she bathed, because unlike those blessed to serve in Meng Sha, there wasn’t enough water to go around for parching throats, much less washing faces.

A sense of lust and amusement washed over her, emanating from Rain rather than from within, and Mila chortled at his perverted conduct which hinted at the depths of his love and lacking standards both. Oh how she loved him so, even if he frustrated her to no end, and she only hoped he would continue to frustrate her until their dying days. Or his, if she was being practical, but Mother forbid those days come too soon, for Mila was far too young to be a widow just yet.

And just like that, whatever help Rain needed was provided and brought away, though Mila still had no idea what she’d done, and she gave it no mind as she turned her focus back to the Half-Demon trying to kill her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emotional Aura was a godsend from the Mother Above.

This Song wholeheartedly believed. There were no words exchanged, no pleasantries to feign, no courtesies to observe or body cues to remember. All it took was a brief moment of emotion to convey their respective intents, a second moment to parse through them, and then Rain was off with whatever he needed from Song to go about his day. All he needed was her trust, which he’d long since acquired, and then she sent him off with her best wishes to do whatever it was that needed to be done. The details were unimportant, nor was she worried regarding his ultimate fate, because Rain was brimming with courage and determination, which meant no matter the outcome, he will have given it his all. Victory or defeat lay in the hands of the Heavens now, and as the Mother’s Chosen Son, Song suspected Rain would emerge triumphant soon enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The left flank might soon fold, so Yan dispatched a Wind Blade to support them, a finger-length sliver of Honed Air that hammered clean through the leading Half-Demon’s face.

As her target dropped like a sack of rice, the other Half-Demons faltered and eyed her from afar, unsure where the attack came from but fairly certain she was responsible for their comrade’s death and wholly unwilling to become her next target. A good thing too, because she didn’t have too many more of those Wind Blades left to give, not unless sweet lovable Lin-Lin came back with another refreshing top-up of Chi for Yan’s Core. The Enemy didn’t know that however, and it kept them mostly in line as she supported her soldiers to hold the wall against these powerful armoured invaders. Though seemingly an improvement from your bog-standard Defiled in every possible way, Yan found that these elite Half-Demons were far easier to manage than the crazed masses of Defiled or hordes of fearless Demons who came pouring in without end. The Half-Demons were still human yet, retaining control of enough of their minds to feel fear and dread. A good thing too, because if not for their human failings, they might well have overrun all of Shi Bei, as only their unwillingness to die for this forsaken city of sand kept them from slaughtering the defenders to the last.

It was obvious at first glance to anyone with Officer’s training, that a proper commander could easily have guided the Enemy Half-Demons to victory. They only had to coordinate and break through in a handful of strategic and eye-catching areas to deal a deathblow to Imperial morale, and fleeing soldiers were much easier to kill than ones willing to fight. A good thing Bai Qi was dead and gone then, and his chosen second sorely lacking in terms of command. It was either the handsome Mao Jianghong with his icy aloofness, or the even more handsome exile who sired Rain. Now that she knew how good he could look, Yan was eager to head home and stuff her husband’s face until he grew fat, or at least filled out to match Gerel’s strapping physique, which she wouldn’t mind a taste of. Rain would hate that, jealous man that he was, and while Yan would never do anything untowards without his blessing, there was a devilish temptation glowing about Gerel now that she knew he was Rain’s brother by blood.

Seriously. Brothers. What woman could say no to that? Yan was even willing to let Rain have a go with Yuzhen, if that’s what it would take.

Offering her beloved husband’s presence a teasing smirk, Yan inwardly fluttered her eyelashes in feigned innocence, knowing how much he loved her wilder side and how it ignited his competitive streak. Though having long since resigned to spending the next century as a one-man woman, she didn’t begrudge him for his limits, though she would be lying if she claimed she wasn’t envious of his harem and yearned to have one of her own to match. It was all in good nature, because she knew her husband well, and knew that he would never intentionally do anything to disappoint her. Any unintentional mistakes would be quickly corrected as well, and he would rather die than see them hurt, which was partially why Yan had been willing to marry him in the first place, a decision she would never regret, so long as she should still draw breath.

A blown kiss and a warm hug, that was the sentiment she welcomed him with, and sent him off in the same breath. Whatever his trials and tribulations, there wasn’t much she could do to help besides whatever it was he just did, so he would have to overcome them on his own. There was no need to worry though, because she had every confidence in him, and so long as her soldiers held and the Enemy remained leaderless and without direction, then it was only a matter of time before the siege of Shi Bei was lifted.

Now wouldn’t that be a pleasant surprise, for Rain to come flying to the rescue only to realize that Yan and the others had already solved the issue at hand. Her beloved fool of a husband had enough on his plate, so she was determined to ease his burdens by winning the battle between mortal powers before he made his triumphant return.

Another Half-Demon was about to gain the upper hand, so Yan sent another finger-length Wind Blade his way with a flick of her finger, marveling at just how practiced she’d become. “Hold just a little longer,” Yan bellowed, speaking to herself and her flagging soldiers at the same time. “Victory will soon be in our grasp!”

Mother in Heaven, she hoped that was true, because Yan had never been more exhausted.

@@~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~@@

The barrier between reality and the Void is one delineated by the speed at which time is perceived.

Or at least, that’s how I understand it. Here in the Void, everything moves at the speed of thought, so even though it feels like this fight against the Emperor has been going on for weeks, it’s really only been a few minutes in reality. This makes it difficult to pay attention to what’s happening in Shi Bei, or at least keep track of it in what I see as ‘real’ time, since doing so would leave me distracted long enough for the Emperor to put a figurative kettle on the stove and enjoy himself a cup of tea like a proper monarch would. In truth, even though I suspected the souls of the dead might respond, I was never counting on them to win the day, because like I said, my prayers were directed towards humanity in general, not just those who’d died. That’s why I was so willing to let them go after the Eternal Emperor clued me in to the cost they were paying to fight here, because I was never counting on the dead to win me the day, though it was nice to fight alongside them again. More than that, I feel like it helped them too, in some way, freed them from the heavy burdens their violent deaths had placed upon them, a cathartic release of grudges and regrets. I am merely a single man, one incapable of righting all the wrongs they’ve endured in life, but at least they won’t have to carry their grievances with them into the next life.

What unresolved enmity did I carry over from my previous life to make me the man I am today? I don’t exactly know, but I suspect it wasn’t all sunshine and roses, though I’m glad a part of Buddy made the trip over with me.

As if summoned by the mere thought of him, my doggo appears in the Void alongside me as the first living being to respond to my Call, with plenty of tail-wags and yips to boot. It feels like a good chunk of time has come and gone since I summoned an army of dead souls and led them into battle against the Emperor’s court of souls, but I doubt even a millisecond has passed in reality. Mildly exhausting to have to keep track of two vastly different perceptions of time, but Buddy’s arrival heralds the coming of great things, though it will take some time for the others to respond. That’s the issue, because even a slight delay in reality can lead to a much longer delay here in the Void, which makes me wonder how Buddy was able to hightail it over so quickly in the blink of an eye.

The second person to arrive is someone I never would have expected, not in a million years. It’s not Lin-Lin, who I know trusts me implicitly without any doubts whatsoever, else she’d never have been able to make her way into my Natal Palace before. Nor is it Mila, Yan, or Luo-Luo, who I love dearly but don’t expect to see here in the Void for a little while longer. It’s not Taddy, who loves me like a son and harbours no doubts in his heart, or Dad who believes I am his son, genetics be damned. I honestly expected Alsantset would be the first to arrive, because my older sister has always been the one looking out for me the most, but it turns out, I was wrong, because my older brother has been watching out for me too.

Not Gerel, my brother by blood, who I’m not sure will even heed the call I sent out, but Charok, my brother-in-law who has been right here with me from the very start.

“You look surprised,” Charok begins, greeting me with a familiar grin as he takes his place beside me, neither leaning too closely nor standing too far away which shows just how well he knows me. Alsantset would throw and arm around me, which I don’t hate, but don’t always love either, while Dad would feel compelled to pat me on the shoulder or head. Mom likes to run her fingers through my hair, which I tolerate because it shows how much she loves me, while Gerel is every bit as awkward as I am and would stare me down to prove that he’s not awkward at all. This isn’t to say I don’t love all the people I just listed, but I also like my personal space, so while hugs and pats are fine every now and then, there is a very finite limit I am willing to accept before I’m forced to tolerate it instead.

Which Charok understands, hence his distant but not too distant greeting which is little more than a smile.

“I didn’t know you were close enough for my Natal Souls to reach.” Furrowing my brow in concern, a thought strikes me and I ask, “Were you captured by the Legate too? Are Tali and Tate okay?”

“No and yes,” Charok replies, before furrowing his brow as well. “As far as I know.” Shrugging, he adds, “Or maybe as far as you know. I am not entirely sure, as I am not the Charok you left behind in the Citadel.”

Confused as I am, I don’t immediately demand an answer because I know this isn’t Charok’s real soul, but a Natal Soul created with help from one of my own. Or at least, that was the general idea I went with when I put my hands together to pray, because I figured it would be dangerous to ask my loved ones to risk their eternal souls while their physical bodies were engaged in a literal battle of life and death. Thus, rather than request my allies turn out in spirit, I gave my Natal Souls over to them to create a vessel for them to send back, a sliver of their Will carrying their perspective of the Dao to help me do battle against the Eternal Emperor. It’s almost the reverse of what Zhen Shi did with Gen, in that he sent in a Natal Soul to take control, whereas I handed over a Natal Soul to surrender to my allies, one they could then take over and send back without affecting their ability to do battle in the real world.

There will be a cost to this no doubt, but the cost of a single Natal Soul should be negligible to most, even those close to the end of their natural lifespans. Hopefully this isn’t the straw that breaks the camel’s back, because I could never forgive myself if I accidentally convinced Grandpa Du to give up his few remaining years of life just to help me in a fight, any more than I could forgive myself if he took an arrow meant for me. That being said, I didn’t send any Natal Soul to Charok in the Northern Citadel, and even if I did, he probably wouldn’t be first to respond given the vast distance he’d have to cross, though I suppose physical distance matters less when we’re talking about the Void. Either way, that’s not what happened here, or at least, that’s what Charok’s Natal Soul claims, meaning there’s another reason why he was able to respond so quickly, ahead of everyone else in Shi Bei.

And upon seeing Buddy’s complete and utter lack of curiosity regarding Charok only cements the answer in mind. I know my dog, and he only ignores people he already knows, meaning he is already very familiar with Charok, except they’ve yet to meet in real life. “You’re not Charok,” I declare, yet despite this alarming statement, I make no move to guard myself against him. “Or… not entirely him.”

“I would say you are right and wrong, little Rain,” Charok replies, lifting his arm to show me his bleeding wrist, one gushing with so much blood that the mere sight is almost enough to send me spiraling into a panic before I remember the circumstances in which we last met. This Charok is not the same Charok looking after Tali and Tate in the Citadel, or at least, not anymore. This is merely an impression of Charok which was left on my soul, one created almost two years after I arrived at the village, when I was still struggling to find Balance because of my fear. There we sat, around a little campfire which Charok just used to make lunch, when he stopped and asked me a single question which I have struggled to answer ever since.

“Why do you seek strength?”

I remember how I replied, with a joke about crushing my enemies and the lamentations of women, but he told me to go reflect on the question and come back with a serious answer. Of course, me being me, I did no reflecting at all and simply wasted some time wandering around the forest before coming back to camp, at which point I tried to change the topic. Charok wasn’t having any of it though, and he asked me the question again, so I told him I wanted to be strong so I could defend myself, so I could fight back if anyone tried to hurt me. That was a lie too, and Charok knew it, and he needled me until I admitted the truth, that I pursue strength because I am drive towards it by fear, fear of losing control, losing my freedom, losing the people I love again.

So he sat me down and told me a story, the story of how he felt unworthy of being with Alsantset and how those feelings rendered him unable to find Balance. How he allowed himself to be guided by his fear, driven by it until he pushed everything else away. He hid his fear deep inside him until it consumed him from within, pushing him to the point of running out of the village half-cocked in the middle of the night to chase after a nightmare of his own devising.

Most importantly of all, Charok taught me that fear, or any emotion really, doesn’t stop you from attaining the state of Balance. Being controlled by your emotions is what stops you, because then you have given into your emotion and in doing so, reject any and all aid the Heavens might render you.

And so in an effort to assuage my irrational fears, Charok swore an Oath to the Heavens stating that he would never allow anyone to take me away from the People, and if anyone should try, then they would rise up as one and wipe my enemies from existence. In doing so, my brother-in-law left an impression upon my soul, one nowhere near as real and complete as the one Buddy left, but one significant enough to materialize him here today. Surprised as I am to discover this, after giving it a moment of thought, I feel like I shouldn’t be surprised at all, because like someone else said before, I am the combined effort of everyone I’ve ever met. Though I know myself as Falling Rain, the very essence of my being changes every time I meet someone new, because those experiences change me in turn for better or for worse.

That is what it means to live, does it not? To live, to laugh, to love. To burn with hate and ache with grief, go giddy with joy and slack with relief. That is what it means to live, to immerse yourself in emotion and be affected by it, experience and learn from it, only to go to sleep and wake up to do it all over again.

A thought I keep in mind as my loved ones appear around me, or rather the Natal Souls of my loved ones which I’ve summoned here to aid me. Lin-Lin appears perched on my back with her arms around my shoulders, and as testament to how much I love her, my first instinct to this unexpected intrusion of personal space is not to flip my assailant over my shoulder and slam them head first into the ground, but rather to lean back and press my cheek against hers in a chaste show of love and affection. Alsantset’s arrival is met with a smile from Charok, but even this impression left almost a decade ago knows better than to approach his wife while she’s working, for my ferocious sister is ready to rend and tear at the drop of a hat, because I have finally managed to pull my head out of my ass long enough to ask for her help. Upon arrival, Mila is equally prepared to kick ass and take names as her fetching freckled features scrunch up into an adorably fierce frown, while Yan offers me a sultry smile and a suggestive bump of her hip before settling into a readied stance. Luo-Luo is all smiles and sighs as she appears with her zither in hand, while Song quietly introduces herself to Buddy before offering me a bare fraction of a nod in greeting.

After the first few stragglers, the floodgates open as Natal Souls arrive in droves, from my parents and loved ones to allies and comrades, to people I don’t know or recognize. The Abbot, BoShui, Fung and Seoyoon, Zian, Tam Taewoong, Da’in and Kyung, Wu Gam, Grandpa Du, and tens of thousands of more individuals fighting in Shi Bei today, and now they have come to lend their strength to my cause once more. There’s no time for niceties however, as these Natal Souls are mere fractions of a fractions, bare slivers of Will being held together by little more than love and determination, meaning every emotion experienced will eat away at their meagre existence. Luckily, my Natal Souls made sure everyone received just enough information to know what’s going on, so there’s no need for a second speech tricking everyone into thinking the Eternal Emperor is actually Zhen Shi, rather than the other way around. A good thing Zhen Shi’s physical form looks exactly like the Eternal Emperor’s soul, to say nothing of how the current host and Emperor is clad in Imperial robes despite being chained to the throne. The actual explanation would be too difficult to get into, but the people who responded to my call care not for the details. What’s more, unlike the first wave, these Natal Souls belong to people who are still alive, so there’s no need to share my Prana with them to ensure they can reincarnate, as even if these Natal Souls are wholly expended, the real souls are still out there in reality, inhabiting their real bodies.

Being the no-nonsense Warrior that she is, Akanai’s Natal Soul she kicks off the battle into high gear as soon as she arrives by launching a ground-shrinking strike at the startled Eternal Emperor. A born leader, the others follow my Grand-Mentor into battle with little to no fanfare, but rather than join in on the soul-on-soul battle, I hang back and watch instead. Not to study the Dao or unravel the mysteries of everyone’s attacks, though I would love to better understand Yan’s Blessing of Wind or Mila’s Blessing of Sun, or how Luo-Luo turns moving melodies into group buffs for everyone who hears them. Instead, I am engrossed in the concept of how others have left their imprints upon my soul, and the implications of what it all means, one I am unable to wholly grasp or explain, yet feel is pivotal to understanding in order to identify where my next step should bring me.

Not the next step in this battle, but the next step along my Path, one I pursue because I am compelled to.

Not by fear, or at least, not solely by fear, not anymore. Nor is it a desire for ultimate freedom which drives me, though that is a partial reason. I jokingly called it the Dao of don’t be an asshole, one in which I remain true to myself and my morals, but what defines myself and my morals? I identify most strongly with my past life and all the memories which came with it, but the Rayne in my memories would be horrified by most of what I’ve done. He was no Warrior, but an but an office drone, a call centre employee who probably never lifted a hand in anger his entire life, much less beat a man to death, but I have. I have fought and killed out of necessity, but I cannot deny the joy I derive from it either, a thrill and pleasure which the Rayne I remember would be repulsed by. I get this from Amigui, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say Amigui was shaped to behave like this by the man who sired him and the circumstances he grew up in, because to kill is to survive, or at least that is how he… how I see it. Kill or be killed, such is the law of this world, one in which others believe might makes right. I disagree on a philosophical level, but I also accept this on a rational level, else I’d be more like the Abbot trying to convince the Eternal Emperor to change his ways, but I know a tiger can never change its stripes.

I suppose what I’m trying to understand is how am I supposed to define my Dao when I am unable to define myself? What if ten years down the line, I realize that my efforts to improve the world are too idealistic, so I resolve to more forceful measures instead? With money and influence, I could easily take hold of public opinion and manipulate it to my advantage, whether that be political, mercantile, or even Martial given how a widespread belief can become a power unto itself. How can I ensure I remain true to myself if I am an ever-changing entity, a mutable being in constant flux who is influenced by every thought, action, and interaction? How can I refrain from becoming an asshole, from making the same mistakes as the Eternal Emperor before me, a man who I know started off with… somewhat noble intentions, only to become the monster he is today? Monsters are not born, they’re forged in the trials and tribulations of life, so how can I avoid making these same mistakes, especially in light of all the power I’ve recently come into?

The answer, as it turns out, is both simple and complex at the same time. Absolute power corrupts absolutely, but I cannot allow my fear to control me. All I can do is to be the best me and make my decisions as they come. Having some memories of a previous life, I know I will change ten-thousand times over the next decade, and ten-thousand more after that, until there comes a day when the person I am is nothing like the person I was, but that’s not a bad thing. Not unless I become a bad person, at least, but that’s an entirely different thing altogether. So long as I remain true to myself, with help from the people around me, then why should I fear going down the wrong path?

I said it a long time ago, to the captured prisoners of the West, when I spoke to them from across the battlefield in Castle JiangHu. “To be human, is to choose,” I began, scanning the crowd of prisoners waiting for their turn to torture their comrades and buy themselves another day of life. “Unlike the wolf or sheep, we humans have the freedom of choice. We can choose to be little better than beasts, to murder, rape, and pillage without care for the consequences, but most of us choose to rise above our primal urges. We can choose to lie and steal, but most choose to be honest and forthright. Some of us choose to be loving parents, caring siblings, or filial offspring, and others choose differently, but at the end of the day, we always have a choice.”

It took everything I had to keep from breaking down into sobs, for the horrors inflicted upon those prisoners was heartbreaking to see, but I had to get the words off of my chest, to convince others from straying down a dark path. “Thus, to take away another person’s ability to choose is one of the most monstrous things we can do, for in doing so, it renders both parties as little more than beasts, when we humans have the potential for so much more. Even now, in the dire circumstances you find yourselves in, you prisoners have a choice. Perhaps it is not much of one, but it is a choice nonetheless. Will you choose to be less than human? The Defiled have made that choice, and now they would force it upon all of you. Some of you have refused, and now you lie broken and dying, while others have passed into the warm embrace of the Mother, but hear me: do not give in to despair. Where there is life, there is hope, and while I cannot promise to march out and rescue you, know that your pain is fleeting and life impermanent, but the choices you make will have lasting consequences. All you who lie there awaiting death, know that you have chosen to be human, to be better than what the Enemy desires us to be, and for this, you have my utmost respect and admiration.”

I knew then there was no Mother in Heaven, because if there was, she would have come down to save these poor souls herself, or at least, I imagine I would if I were in her shoes. An unfair comparison, because I cannot even bring myself to suggest we end slavery, because I know the resistance I will face if I should ever bring it up. “As for those who choose to inflict pain on your fellow prisoners in order to escape that same pain yourselves, know that the consequences for your actions will come sooner rather than later. Lie all you want about how you have no choice and your hands have been forced, but at the end of it all, you have chosen to inflict upon your fellow man that which you would not have inflicted upon yourself. Repent now and turn back before you are too far gone. You still have the ability to make your own choices. Do not let the Enemy take this away.”

A lovely little speech, full of optimistic nobility that led those prisoners to revolt against their captors, a short-lived resistance that was quashed without mercy and saw hundreds of prisoners die as they refused to play along with the Enemy’s games. And yet, to this day, I still think they made the right choice, because they remained true to who they were instead of giving in to outside forces. That being said, I could’ve been wrong. Seen from another perspective, I convinced those prisoners to essentially commit suicide by proxy, but if they’d survived, I might have been able to save them. Maybe some of those survivors were in the harbours we liberated, or Pang Si Xing, and now happily in the Citadels where they can rest and recuperate. Or still eking out a life somewhere in the Western Province, which I intend to liberate in full as soon as I can.

Difficult to say if they’d made the right choice, or if I did in giving that speech, but how is today any different? I have united the people against the Emperor and together, we have the strength to overthrow him, but will this really change things? The Legate, Liang Wu Di, is poised to take the throne, but I doubt he’ll do things any differently. Even if he wants to, will he have the strength to? The leaders and heirs of the other Supreme Families came together to put him on the throne, but that means they have the power to depose him as well, so even if Wu Di has all the best intentions, he might be just as powerless as I am to implement them. I have always believed that might does not make right, but actions speak louder than words, meaning that when you get right down to it, even though I have the best of intentions, it doesn’t mean all my decisions are right.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions, or so they say, and I’m beginning to understand why.

This minor crisis of faith shakes me to my core, but I remember what Charok told me all those years ago and hold firm to it. I cannot allow myself to be driven by fear, or any emotion, but at the same time, I cannot avoid those fears and emotions any more than I could Will away all my problems in the blink of an eye. A concept that seems simple at first glance, but hides infinite complexities, but all I can do is be true to myself and do as my conscience demands.

My Aura billows out through the Void to convey my Intent, and the Natal Souls I’ve summoned fall back to my side. Although there are no visible wounds upon him, the Eternal Emperor makes for a sorry sight as he stands guard before his host’s soul and Natal Throne. Surrounded by a few hundred souls who remain under his control, including those of his five sworn brothers, the Eternal Emperor is so exhausted and enraged he seems nothing like the insurmountable foe who I traded blows with earlier today. My mistake was placing too much emphasis on the physical effect of my attacks, a flaw many of the experienced Martial Warriors here picked up on and corrected in more ways than I can count, but the how and why of the Eternal Emperor’s defeat is of no interest to me just yet. Separating myself from the crowd, I descend down to speak with him face to face.

“I have no desire to kill you and deny you a chance at reincarnation,” I begin, trying to think of the best way to frame this without setting him off. “Release your captives and move on to your next life, or cling to this one and swear an Oath to conduct yourself as my honoured guest. If you choose the latter, then you will be treated as such while confined within my Natal Palace, the same way you allowed your fifth brother to survive within yours.” Erring on the side of caution, I make no effort to warn him about the consequences of refusal, and instead keep my mouth shut while waiting for an answer.

Heh. Would ya lookit that. I kept my mouth shut. Miracles can happen.