Chapter 190
If audio player doesn't work, press Stop then Play button again
Chapter 190
Sitting in hopeless despair, Xiao HuoLong worked at his bindings, glaring at the surrounding guards while choking on his gag. That stupid bitch Shrike, her reputation was worthless as a eunuchs cock. Ambushing the Major, sending her Aspirants away, allowing soldiers led by children to overtake her, even abandoning him in her haste to escape, it was all an unmitigated disaster of epic proportions. The woman wasnt fit to manage a gaggle of whores much less a force of warriors.
Then again, she seemed a little loony, a quiet desperation in her eyes whenever she spoke of Rain. No sign of the Spirits within her as others might have suggested, but it only meant there was something profoundly wrong with her. The ease with which shed accepted his accusations surprised him, but hed been in no position to question his good fortune. Now he was no better off than before, still in the hands of the enemy, helplessly waiting for death. At least he had hope his death would be clean, without all the unpleasant torture and ceremony the Aspirants so loved to take part in.
A procession of soldiers made their way into camp and HuoLongs stomach flopped as he recognized the Shrikes mounts, knowing there was no longer any hope of rescue, no matter how slim it might have been. The Shrike needed him but these brats were likely to kill him out of hand. In fact, he hoped theyd do it soon, instead of using him as a tool to hone their skills, hoping to further their own reputations.
Resigned to his fate, HuoLong hunched over and waited, presenting what he hoped to be a calm and unruffled demeanour while inwardly lamenting his fate, doing his best to ignore the Spirits and their whispers of surrender. Theyd been quiet of late, sensing his agitation and displeasure with them, but now they were back in full force, promising power should he only accept it.The source of this content nov(el)bi((n))
Nattering bastards, only now in his darkest moments did they reappear, hoping to tempt him into dancing to their tune. Too busy with their chosen with no time to spare for Laughing Dragon, a loyal believer for decades. His self-control and discipline filled them with disapproval, preferring Gens unrestrained devotion, but what did they expect? Laughing Dragon had no army of believers to guard him from the enemys wrath, only a few dozen Firebrands all lost to him now.
All because the Spirits failed to grant him power and abandoned him in his time of need. A pox on them all.
Choking on his impotence and filled with regret, he watched as Falling Rain was brought down from the horse, the incompetent fool still unconscious. Another of the Spirits chosen, the brats strength filled HuoLong with envy. In what way was Laughing Dragon lacking?
A healer set to work on the formerly ignorant Enlightened and HuoLongs hopes were piqued, sensing the Spirits still at play within the boy. Perhaps now, knowing what he did, the boy would want a Mentor, a teacher, someone to show him the way. If only he could speak with Rain in private, offer his experience in hiding his true nature and dealing with the urges. Perhaps there was still hope to be had. All he needed to do was convince Rain there was a place for him by his side. They could tell the world Laughing Dragon was being used to root out the Defiled, a tool in the battle against the Enemy, much like the Shrike was planning. Instead, they would rally the Enlightened to their cause, biding their time until they were poised to strike and overturn the Empire.
After the better part of an hour, Rain rose from his slumber. No smiles or cheer, merely nodding in thanks to the other Officers, clasping hands and saluting, playing his part to perfection. Yes boy, worm your way into their friendship, bring these young talents into the light. A wondrous path lay before him, a hero of the Empire, poised to bring great change to the world.
How glorious it would be to have his own name, Xiao HuoLong, echo in eternity. He could see it now, history looking fondly upon Laughing Dragon, the man who made it all possible. The man who guided a young talent into overthrowing the dog-emperor and his heathen followers, scouring the Mother and her believers from the land. Eagerly chomping at his gag, he stared expectantly at Rain, deferential yet unbroken, respectful yet proud.
Leaning over him, Rain looked on with disinterest. Why is this filth still alive?
The single sentence crushed all of HuoLongs hopes and aspirations, crumbling beneath the weight. One whelp answered, a snobby brat in fine silk armour. Well, I wanted your opinion. After all those innocents died in the Purge, it seems a disservice to allow this one to die easy, but knowing your distaste for torture... The whelp shrugged. Up to you how he dies.
I wont dirty my hands torturing him myself.
You wont have to. My manservant is a man of many talents. He handled DuGu Rens... execution.
I see. Rains haunting amber eyes pierced through HuoLong without a shred of mercy. Kneeling down, he removed the gag and sneered, his anger burning within. An act likely, no mercy for the Defiled, the boy had to further his own cause and couldnt bother to save a mere Laughing Dragon. Because of you, thousands died in horrific manner, which isnt entirely your fault, but how many died at your hands in a similar manner?
More than I can count, he replied honestly, unable to muster a shred of defiance. Ive been at this for decades, cant remember them all. Barely remember those from the village I found ye in.
Thank you for the food, but you need not stay. Baatars gruff voice sounded out, snapping Charok out of his reveries. Smoothing out his wifes blankets, the old warrior continued speaking without a glance. Ive no need for a nanny. If the girl is so worried for my health, she can come nag me herself.
She didnt send me here. His words were a mistake, Baatar staggering as if physically struck. Sighing, he crumpled into his chair and shook his head, his eyes never leaving his wife. They lapsed into silence once more, minutes passing before Charok finally found the courage to speak again. Something needs to be done.
Another mistake he realized too late as he found himself lifted in the air, Baatar snarling ferociously as his fingers clamped around Charoks throat. No one will harm her while I still draws breath. This I swear.
The only reply was a strangled gurgle, unable to free himself from Baatar unyielding grip. Realization flashed through Baatars ice cold eyes, quickly replaced by panic and remorse as he released Charok none to gently. My apologies, he muttered, smoothing out Charoks clothes. I lost my head. You werent speaking of Sarnai, were you?
Sputtering as he massaged his throat, Charok shook his head, face red from exertion and shame. Though itd been years since he left the Banner, hed foolishly believed his strength had grown in recent years, his control of Chi improving by leaps and bounds. How foolish a fancy, before Baatar, he was still no different from a child, unable to resist even in the slightest. I meant about the Wall. Straightening himself out, he forced himself to look Baatar in the eyes without flinching. If youve given up on defending the province, then you should give the order to retreat.
Ive not given up. The snarl was back, the wolf snapping at him even as he collapsed back into his chair, so full of rage and sorrow, a caged beast ready to lash out. Id have thought of all people youd understand. Ive more important matters to attend to, Sarnai needs me and the Wall will hold in my absence. Even with Jia Yang at the helm, the officers on the Wall have decades of experience serving under Nian Zu. Good men leading good soldiers, theyll hold no matter what that buffoon does.
Understanding dawned on him as he watched Baatar dismiss reality with a wave of his hand. No one told you? Teng Wei Sheng is dead and with him his entire cadre of officers. Han BoHais advice is outright ignored when not ridiculed and his troops placed on reserve so Jia Yang can claim all the glory. The battle is going poorly. In the last day, the Defiled have almost taken the walls thrice and every soldier has been called to action as the Enemy continues their attack, unabated day and night. They seek to waste our strength and overwhelm us before sending in a wave of Demons, dozens of them gathered on the horizon in plain sight, filling the soldiers with despair. Your daughter isnt at your side because of lack of empathy, but because she is desperately fighting day and night, holding back the tide which threatens to overwhelm us all.
Brow furrowed, Baatar slumped even further in his chair as he glanced at his wife, reluctance on display. Thrice? Are things really so bad? Why has Ghurda not taken things in hand, she is no less able a commander than I.
Ghurda suggested Alsantset order an evacuation, but your daughter is loathe to abandon your post. Charok refrained from pointing out Baatar abandoned it first, and how unfair it was for him to dump his burdens on her. Talented though she may be, she isnt like you, a leader of soldiers. Shes a duellist, a solitary warrior, unused to cooperating with a partner much less coordinating tens of thousands of troops. Yes, youve lost a wife, but she lost a mother and yet still she fights. She fights for her fathers honour, not her own, holding your place in your absence, hoping to see your dreams come to fruition. Put an end to your mourning, or at least put it aside for now. You need to take command and be the hero she believes you are.
Holding his hand up, Baatar lowered his head, eyes closed in concentration. Belatedly, Charok realized he was Sending to someone, perhaps Ghurda or Alsantset, verifying the situation. After long minutes, he sat up and took Sarnais hand again, ignoring Charok in stony silence. Just as he was about to try again, a knock came at the door and a trio of servants streamed in as Baatar rattled off a list of instructions for Sarnais care while donning his armour.
Pride swelling in his chest, Charok followed Baatar out the door and to the stables where their quins sat harnessed and ready. As they rode towards the Wall, they were soon joined by an escort of Sentinels, Alsantset among them, her smile no longer tired and resigned, but radiant and hopeful as she clasped his hand in silent thanks. Their escort swelled in size as Han BoHai joined them, a magnificent sight to behold as Major General Baatar rode through the streets, back straightened and shoulders raised, finally ready to aid in the defence. Though night was upon them, their procession didnt go unnoticed, many citizens still awake, unable to sleep for fear and trepidation. Muted cheers and subdued optimism greeted them, Baatars mere presence inspiring confidence, his recent exploits not lacking when compared to Nian Zus early career. Nian Zus chosen successor, finally here to save the day.
The sounds of battle grew clearer as they moved up the stairs, passing a steady stream of dead and wounded flowing down towards the hospices. Baatars mere presence kindled their spirits, the soldiers saluting as he passed, their eyes burning with hope and ambition, confident he would lead them to victory. It was his way, a born leader of men, the Iron Commander Baatar.
As Baatar burst into a meeting room, Charok delighted in Situ Jia Yangs conflicted gaze, the stubborn fool unsure whether to laugh or cry. Fortunately, Jia Yang knew the situation was desperate and settled for a simple reproach while accepting aid. How fortuitous, the Bloody-Fanged Wolf has finally deigned to grace us with his presence. You are appraised of the situation I gather? Suggestions?
Drawing himself up, Baatar appeared every speck the hero Alsantset made him out to be, resplendent in his silver and black armour. As Commander of the Wall, heed my order: sound the retreat. Evacuate the citizens.
Silence fell upon the room, not a single person in earshot daring to draw breath.
Perhaps, Charok mused as he watched despair threaten to overcome his wife, it would have been better to let sleeping dogs lie.
Chapter Meme
Please report us if you find any errors so we can fix it asap!
Chapter 190
Sitting in hopeless despair, Xiao HuoLong worked at his bindings, glaring at the surrounding guards while choking on his gag. That stupid bitch Shrike, her reputation was worthless as a eunuchs cock. Ambushing the Major, sending her Aspirants away, allowing soldiers led by children to overtake her, even abandoning him in her haste to escape, it was all an unmitigated disaster of epic proportions. The woman wasnt fit to manage a gaggle of whores much less a force of warriors.
Then again, she seemed a little loony, a quiet desperation in her eyes whenever she spoke of Rain. No sign of the Spirits within her as others might have suggested, but it only meant there was something profoundly wrong with her. The ease with which shed accepted his accusations surprised him, but hed been in no position to question his good fortune. Now he was no better off than before, still in the hands of the enemy, helplessly waiting for death. At least he had hope his death would be clean, without all the unpleasant torture and ceremony the Aspirants so loved to take part in.
A procession of soldiers made their way into camp and HuoLongs stomach flopped as he recognized the Shrikes mounts, knowing there was no longer any hope of rescue, no matter how slim it might have been. The Shrike needed him but these brats were likely to kill him out of hand. In fact, he hoped theyd do it soon, instead of using him as a tool to hone their skills, hoping to further their own reputations.
Resigned to his fate, HuoLong hunched over and waited, presenting what he hoped to be a calm and unruffled demeanour while inwardly lamenting his fate, doing his best to ignore the Spirits and their whispers of surrender. Theyd been quiet of late, sensing his agitation and displeasure with them, but now they were back in full force, promising power should he only accept it.The source of this content nov(el)bi((n))
Nattering bastards, only now in his darkest moments did they reappear, hoping to tempt him into dancing to their tune. Too busy with their chosen with no time to spare for Laughing Dragon, a loyal believer for decades. His self-control and discipline filled them with disapproval, preferring Gens unrestrained devotion, but what did they expect? Laughing Dragon had no army of believers to guard him from the enemys wrath, only a few dozen Firebrands all lost to him now.
All because the Spirits failed to grant him power and abandoned him in his time of need. A pox on them all.
Choking on his impotence and filled with regret, he watched as Falling Rain was brought down from the horse, the incompetent fool still unconscious. Another of the Spirits chosen, the brats strength filled HuoLong with envy. In what way was Laughing Dragon lacking?
A healer set to work on the formerly ignorant Enlightened and HuoLongs hopes were piqued, sensing the Spirits still at play within the boy. Perhaps now, knowing what he did, the boy would want a Mentor, a teacher, someone to show him the way. If only he could speak with Rain in private, offer his experience in hiding his true nature and dealing with the urges. Perhaps there was still hope to be had. All he needed to do was convince Rain there was a place for him by his side. They could tell the world Laughing Dragon was being used to root out the Defiled, a tool in the battle against the Enemy, much like the Shrike was planning. Instead, they would rally the Enlightened to their cause, biding their time until they were poised to strike and overturn the Empire.
After the better part of an hour, Rain rose from his slumber. No smiles or cheer, merely nodding in thanks to the other Officers, clasping hands and saluting, playing his part to perfection. Yes boy, worm your way into their friendship, bring these young talents into the light. A wondrous path lay before him, a hero of the Empire, poised to bring great change to the world.
How glorious it would be to have his own name, Xiao HuoLong, echo in eternity. He could see it now, history looking fondly upon Laughing Dragon, the man who made it all possible. The man who guided a young talent into overthrowing the dog-emperor and his heathen followers, scouring the Mother and her believers from the land. Eagerly chomping at his gag, he stared expectantly at Rain, deferential yet unbroken, respectful yet proud.
Leaning over him, Rain looked on with disinterest. Why is this filth still alive?
The single sentence crushed all of HuoLongs hopes and aspirations, crumbling beneath the weight. One whelp answered, a snobby brat in fine silk armour. Well, I wanted your opinion. After all those innocents died in the Purge, it seems a disservice to allow this one to die easy, but knowing your distaste for torture... The whelp shrugged. Up to you how he dies.
I wont dirty my hands torturing him myself.
You wont have to. My manservant is a man of many talents. He handled DuGu Rens... execution.
I see. Rains haunting amber eyes pierced through HuoLong without a shred of mercy. Kneeling down, he removed the gag and sneered, his anger burning within. An act likely, no mercy for the Defiled, the boy had to further his own cause and couldnt bother to save a mere Laughing Dragon. Because of you, thousands died in horrific manner, which isnt entirely your fault, but how many died at your hands in a similar manner?
More than I can count, he replied honestly, unable to muster a shred of defiance. Ive been at this for decades, cant remember them all. Barely remember those from the village I found ye in.
Thank you for the food, but you need not stay. Baatars gruff voice sounded out, snapping Charok out of his reveries. Smoothing out his wifes blankets, the old warrior continued speaking without a glance. Ive no need for a nanny. If the girl is so worried for my health, she can come nag me herself.
She didnt send me here. His words were a mistake, Baatar staggering as if physically struck. Sighing, he crumpled into his chair and shook his head, his eyes never leaving his wife. They lapsed into silence once more, minutes passing before Charok finally found the courage to speak again. Something needs to be done.
Another mistake he realized too late as he found himself lifted in the air, Baatar snarling ferociously as his fingers clamped around Charoks throat. No one will harm her while I still draws breath. This I swear.
The only reply was a strangled gurgle, unable to free himself from Baatar unyielding grip. Realization flashed through Baatars ice cold eyes, quickly replaced by panic and remorse as he released Charok none to gently. My apologies, he muttered, smoothing out Charoks clothes. I lost my head. You werent speaking of Sarnai, were you?
Sputtering as he massaged his throat, Charok shook his head, face red from exertion and shame. Though itd been years since he left the Banner, hed foolishly believed his strength had grown in recent years, his control of Chi improving by leaps and bounds. How foolish a fancy, before Baatar, he was still no different from a child, unable to resist even in the slightest. I meant about the Wall. Straightening himself out, he forced himself to look Baatar in the eyes without flinching. If youve given up on defending the province, then you should give the order to retreat.
Ive not given up. The snarl was back, the wolf snapping at him even as he collapsed back into his chair, so full of rage and sorrow, a caged beast ready to lash out. Id have thought of all people youd understand. Ive more important matters to attend to, Sarnai needs me and the Wall will hold in my absence. Even with Jia Yang at the helm, the officers on the Wall have decades of experience serving under Nian Zu. Good men leading good soldiers, theyll hold no matter what that buffoon does.
Understanding dawned on him as he watched Baatar dismiss reality with a wave of his hand. No one told you? Teng Wei Sheng is dead and with him his entire cadre of officers. Han BoHais advice is outright ignored when not ridiculed and his troops placed on reserve so Jia Yang can claim all the glory. The battle is going poorly. In the last day, the Defiled have almost taken the walls thrice and every soldier has been called to action as the Enemy continues their attack, unabated day and night. They seek to waste our strength and overwhelm us before sending in a wave of Demons, dozens of them gathered on the horizon in plain sight, filling the soldiers with despair. Your daughter isnt at your side because of lack of empathy, but because she is desperately fighting day and night, holding back the tide which threatens to overwhelm us all.
Brow furrowed, Baatar slumped even further in his chair as he glanced at his wife, reluctance on display. Thrice? Are things really so bad? Why has Ghurda not taken things in hand, she is no less able a commander than I.
Ghurda suggested Alsantset order an evacuation, but your daughter is loathe to abandon your post. Charok refrained from pointing out Baatar abandoned it first, and how unfair it was for him to dump his burdens on her. Talented though she may be, she isnt like you, a leader of soldiers. Shes a duellist, a solitary warrior, unused to cooperating with a partner much less coordinating tens of thousands of troops. Yes, youve lost a wife, but she lost a mother and yet still she fights. She fights for her fathers honour, not her own, holding your place in your absence, hoping to see your dreams come to fruition. Put an end to your mourning, or at least put it aside for now. You need to take command and be the hero she believes you are.
Holding his hand up, Baatar lowered his head, eyes closed in concentration. Belatedly, Charok realized he was Sending to someone, perhaps Ghurda or Alsantset, verifying the situation. After long minutes, he sat up and took Sarnais hand again, ignoring Charok in stony silence. Just as he was about to try again, a knock came at the door and a trio of servants streamed in as Baatar rattled off a list of instructions for Sarnais care while donning his armour.
Pride swelling in his chest, Charok followed Baatar out the door and to the stables where their quins sat harnessed and ready. As they rode towards the Wall, they were soon joined by an escort of Sentinels, Alsantset among them, her smile no longer tired and resigned, but radiant and hopeful as she clasped his hand in silent thanks. Their escort swelled in size as Han BoHai joined them, a magnificent sight to behold as Major General Baatar rode through the streets, back straightened and shoulders raised, finally ready to aid in the defence. Though night was upon them, their procession didnt go unnoticed, many citizens still awake, unable to sleep for fear and trepidation. Muted cheers and subdued optimism greeted them, Baatars mere presence inspiring confidence, his recent exploits not lacking when compared to Nian Zus early career. Nian Zus chosen successor, finally here to save the day.
The sounds of battle grew clearer as they moved up the stairs, passing a steady stream of dead and wounded flowing down towards the hospices. Baatars mere presence kindled their spirits, the soldiers saluting as he passed, their eyes burning with hope and ambition, confident he would lead them to victory. It was his way, a born leader of men, the Iron Commander Baatar.
As Baatar burst into a meeting room, Charok delighted in Situ Jia Yangs conflicted gaze, the stubborn fool unsure whether to laugh or cry. Fortunately, Jia Yang knew the situation was desperate and settled for a simple reproach while accepting aid. How fortuitous, the Bloody-Fanged Wolf has finally deigned to grace us with his presence. You are appraised of the situation I gather? Suggestions?
Drawing himself up, Baatar appeared every speck the hero Alsantset made him out to be, resplendent in his silver and black armour. As Commander of the Wall, heed my order: sound the retreat. Evacuate the citizens.
Silence fell upon the room, not a single person in earshot daring to draw breath.
Perhaps, Charok mused as he watched despair threaten to overcome his wife, it would have been better to let sleeping dogs lie.
Chapter Meme
Chapter 190Sitting in hopeless despair, Xiao HuoLong worked at his bindings, glaring at the surrounding guards while choking on his gag. That stupid bitch Shrike, her reputation was worthless as a eunuchs cock. Ambushing the Major, sending her Aspirants away, allowing soldiers led by children to overtake her, even abandoning him in her haste to escape, it was all an unmitigated disaster of epic proportions. The woman wasnt fit to manage a gaggle of whores much less a force of warriors.Then again, she seemed a little loony, a quiet desperation in her eyes whenever she spoke of Rain. No sign of the Spirits within her as others might have suggested, but it only meant there was something profoundly wrong with her. The ease with which shed accepted his accusations surprised him, but hed been in no position to question his good fortune. Now he was no better off than before, still in the hands of the enemy, helplessly waiting for death. At least he had hope his death would be clean, without all the unpleasant torture and ceremony the Aspirants so loved to take part in.A procession of soldiers made their way into camp and HuoLongs stomach flopped as he recognized the Shrikes mounts, knowing there was no longer any hope of rescue, no matter how slim it might have been. The Shrike needed him but these brats were likely to kill him out of hand. In fact, he hoped theyd do it soon, instead of using him as a tool to hone their skills, hoping to further their own reputations.Resigned to his fate, HuoLong hunched over and waited, presenting what he hoped to be a calm and unruffled demeanour while inwardly lamenting his fate, doing his best to ignore the Spirits and their whispers of surrender. Theyd been quiet of late, sensing his agitation and displeasure with them, but now they were back in full force, promising power should he only accept it.The source of this content novelbinNattering bastards, only now in his darkest moments did they reappear, hoping to tempt him into dancing to their tune. Too busy with their chosen with no time to spare for Laughing Dragon, a loyal believer for decades. His self-control and discipline filled them with disapproval, preferring Gens unrestrained devotion, but what did they expect? Laughing Dragon had no army of believers to guard him from the enemys wrath, only a few dozen Firebrands all lost to him now.All because the Spirits failed to grant him power and abandoned him in his time of need. A pox on them all.Choking on his impotence and filled with regret, he watched as Falling Rain was brought down from the horse, the incompetent fool still unconscious. Another of the Spirits chosen, the brats strength filled HuoLong with envy. In what way was Laughing Dragon lacking?A healer set to work on the formerly ignorant Enlightened and HuoLongs hopes were piqued, sensing the Spirits still at play within the boy. Perhaps now, knowing what he did, the boy would want a Mentor, a teacher, someone to show him the way. If only he could speak with Rain in private, offer his experience in hiding his true nature and dealing with the urges. Perhaps there was still hope to be had. All he needed to do was convince Rain there was a place for him by his side. They could tell the world Laughing Dragon was being used to root out the Defiled, a tool in the battle against the Enemy, much like the Shrike was planning. Instead, they would rally the Enlightened to their cause, biding their time until they were poised to strike and overturn the Empire.After the better part of an hour, Rain rose from his slumber. No smiles or cheer, merely nodding in thanks to the other Officers, clasping hands and saluting, playing his part to perfection. Yes boy, worm your way into their friendship, bring these young talents into the light. A wondrous path lay before him, a hero of the Empire, poised to bring great change to the world.How glorious it would be to have his own name, Xiao HuoLong, echo in eternity. He could see it now, history looking fondly upon Laughing Dragon, the man who made it all possible. The man who guided a young talent into overthrowing the dog-emperor and his heathen followers, scouring the Mother and her believers from the land. Eagerly chomping at his gag, he stared expectantly at Rain, deferential yet unbroken, respectful yet proud.Leaning over him, Rain looked on with disinterest. Why is this filth still alive?The single sentence crushed all of HuoLongs hopes and aspirations, crumbling beneath the weight. One whelp answered, a snobby brat in fine silk armour. Well, I wanted your opinion. After all those innocents died in the Purge, it seems a disservice to allow this one to die easy, but knowing your distaste for torture... The whelp shrugged. Up to you how he dies.I wont dirty my hands torturing him myself.You wont have to. My manservant is a man of many talents. He handled DuGu Rens... execution.I see. Rains haunting amber eyes pierced through HuoLong without a shred of mercy. Kneeling down, he removed the gag and sneered, his anger burning within. An act likely, no mercy for the Defiled, the boy had to further his own cause and couldnt bother to save a mere Laughing Dragon. Because of you, thousands died in horrific manner, which isnt entirely your fault, but how many died at your hands in a similar manner?More than I can count, he replied honestly, unable to muster a shred of defiance. Ive been at this for decades, cant remember them all. Barely remember those from the village I found ye in.Thank you for the food, but you need not stay. Baatars gruff voice sounded out, snapping Charok out of his reveries. Smoothing out his wifes blankets, the old warrior continued speaking without a glance. Ive no need for a nanny. If the girl is so worried for my health, she can come nag me herself.She didnt send me here. His words were a mistake, Baatar staggering as if physically struck. Sighing, he crumpled into his chair and shook his head, his eyes never leaving his wife. They lapsed into silence once more, minutes passing before Charok finally found the courage to speak again. Something needs to be done.Another mistake he realized too late as he found himself lifted in the air, Baatar snarling ferociously as his fingers clamped around Charoks throat. No one will harm her while I still draws breath. This I swear.The only reply was a strangled gurgle, unable to free himself from Baatar unyielding grip. Realization flashed through Baatars ice cold eyes, quickly replaced by panic and remorse as he released Charok none to gently. My apologies, he muttered, smoothing out Charoks clothes. I lost my head. You werent speaking of Sarnai, were you?Sputtering as he massaged his throat, Charok shook his head, face red from exertion and shame. Though itd been years since he left the Banner, hed foolishly believed his strength had grown in recent years, his control of Chi improving by leaps and bounds. How foolish a fancy, before Baatar, he was still no different from a child, unable to resist even in the slightest. I meant about the Wall. Straightening himself out, he forced himself to look Baatar in the eyes without flinching. If youve given up on defending the province, then you should give the order to retreat.Ive not given up. The snarl was back, the wolf snapping at him even as he collapsed back into his chair, so full of rage and sorrow, a caged beast ready to lash out. Id have thought of all people youd understand. Ive more important matters to attend to, Sarnai needs me and the Wall will hold in my absence. Even with Jia Yang at the helm, the officers on the Wall have decades of experience serving under Nian Zu. Good men leading good soldiers, theyll hold no matter what that buffoon does.Understanding dawned on him as he watched Baatar dismiss reality with a wave of his hand. No one told you? Teng Wei Sheng is dead and with him his entire cadre of officers. Han BoHais advice is outright ignored when not ridiculed and his troops placed on reserve so Jia Yang can claim all the glory. The battle is going poorly. In the last day, the Defiled have almost taken the walls thrice and every soldier has been called to action as the Enemy continues their attack, unabated day and night. They seek to waste our strength and overwhelm us before sending in a wave of Demons, dozens of them gathered on the horizon in plain sight, filling the soldiers with despair. Your daughter isnt at your side because of lack of empathy, but because she is desperately fighting day and night, holding back the tide which threatens to overwhelm us all.Brow furrowed, Baatar slumped even further in his chair as he glanced at his wife, reluctance on display. Thrice? Are things really so bad? Why has Ghurda not taken things in hand, she is no less able a commander than I.Ghurda suggested Alsantset order an evacuation, but your daughter is loathe to abandon your post. Charok refrained from pointing out Baatar abandoned it first, and how unfair it was for him to dump his burdens on her. Talented though she may be, she isnt like you, a leader of soldiers. Shes a duellist, a solitary warrior, unused to cooperating with a partner much less coordinating tens of thousands of troops. Yes, youve lost a wife, but she lost a mother and yet still she fights. She fights for her fathers honour, not her own, holding your place in your absence, hoping to see your dreams come to fruition. Put an end to your mourning, or at least put it aside for now. You need to take command and be the hero she believes you are.Holding his hand up, Baatar lowered his head, eyes closed in concentration. Belatedly, Charok realized he was Sending to someone, perhaps Ghurda or Alsantset, verifying the situation. After long minutes, he sat up and took Sarnais hand again, ignoring Charok in stony silence. Just as he was about to try again, a knock came at the door and a trio of servants streamed in as Baatar rattled off a list of instructions for Sarnais care while donning his armour.Pride swelling in his chest, Charok followed Baatar out the door and to the stables where their quins sat harnessed and ready. As they rode towards the Wall, they were soon joined by an escort of Sentinels, Alsantset among them, her smile no longer tired and resigned, but radiant and hopeful as she clasped his hand in silent thanks. Their escort swelled in size as Han BoHai joined them, a magnificent sight to behold as Major General Baatar rode through the streets, back straightened and shoulders raised, finally ready to aid in the defence. Though night was upon them, their procession didnt go unnoticed, many citizens still awake, unable to sleep for fear and trepidation. Muted cheers and subdued optimism greeted them, Baatars mere presence inspiring confidence, his recent exploits not lacking when compared to Nian Zus early career. Nian Zus chosen successor, finally here to save the day.The sounds of battle grew clearer as they moved up the stairs, passing a steady stream of dead and wounded flowing down towards the hospices. Baatars mere presence kindled their spirits, the soldiers saluting as he passed, their eyes burning with hope and ambition, confident he would lead them to victory. It was his way, a born leader of men, the Iron Commander Baatar.As Baatar burst into a meeting room, Charok delighted in Situ Jia Yangs conflicted gaze, the stubborn fool unsure whether to laugh or cry. Fortunately, Jia Yang knew the situation was desperate and settled for a simple reproach while accepting aid. How fortuitous, the Bloody-Fanged Wolf has finally deigned to grace us with his presence. You are appraised of the situation I gather? Suggestions?Drawing himself up, Baatar appeared every speck the hero Alsantset made him out to be, resplendent in his silver and black armour. As Commander of the Wall, heed my order: sound the retreat. Evacuate the citizens.Silence fell upon the room, not a single person in earshot daring to draw breath.Perhaps, Charok mused as he watched despair threaten to overcome his wife, it would have been better to let sleeping dogs lie.Chapter Meme
