Chapter 203
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Chapter 203
Careful to keep his wide sleeves from touching the dishes, Yo Ling smiled with satisfaction as his chopsticks sank into the tender, broiled fish, the white flesh separating beneath his light touch. Stirring a small portion through the greasy juices, he placed it neatly in his tiny bowl, sipping his wine and waiting for the savoury sauce to drip down into the rice. This was to be his first fine meal in ages, and he deserved to take his time and properly enjoy it. Though a man of exceeding wealth and power, his choice of career carried certain hardships with it, such as denying him some of the finer things in life. Today, he indulged, wearing quality silk clothes and eating rich foods with his bandit captains, inside this beautiful private room reserved only for the wealthiest and ostentatious of guests.
Decorated with some of the finest works of art in all the north, a single vase stood out to his untrained eye. Snow-white porcelain glazed in a regal-blue ink, the beautiful piece demanded his attention from the moment he laid eye upon it. Depicting a long, sinuous dragon coiled around the vase, every detail and motion was captured perfectly, the creature so natural and true to life it almost leaped from the porcelain. Its body was an entangled mess, so chaotic and twisted yet hiding a logical pattern within, clear to those who chose to see. From one angle, the dragon soared through the clouds, roaring majestically in all its glory. Turn the vase and the scene changed, now a menacing beast, ready to devour the world. Turn it again and it transformed into a lazy lizard, defeated and railing against its fate. Turn it one last time, and there it lay, face hidden in the dirt, dead and defeated.
Glory, conflict, defeat, and death, a masterful work from an artist with the soul of a warrior. In his youth, he wouldnt have spared the vase a second look, deeming it lavish and frivolous. Nowadays, he rarely had a moment free of the Spirits gibbering, bringing him news from across the lands and leaving him to parse through the torrent of information in search of something useful. Since the attack started, the Spirits voices had synchronized into a soothing cry for war, drowning out any useless chatter and giving him peace of mind for the first time in ages.
In a jovial mood, he cleared his throat and raised his cup in toast, smiling at his comrades in arms gathered around the round table. Many were long since dyed in the truth while others were newly Enlightened, but they were his Butchers, his brethren, his family one and all. Weve come a long way from our humble roots, and here we are now. To revolution and bloodshed, our reward for toil and trouble. Downing the drink, he smacked his lips in satisfaction. Fine wine.
The humourless Nazier horked on the restaurant floor, clearing his throat before speaking. Too fruity for my tastes. Wheres the kick, something to put fire in a mans belly? Shaking his head, he returned to devouring his food with all the manners of an orangutan in heat. Several murmurs of assent followed, the finest fighting men he could gather, a pack of animals lacking taste. Perhaps he should return to dining alone. It was hard to find good help these days, but one made do with what one could.
Resisting the urge to correct Naziers behaviour, Yo Ling returned to his meal, sampling a piece from every dish before these brutes could ruin them. There were only so many ways for his chefs to cook human flesh, so he was taking a break before indulging once more. A cleansing of his palate so to speak, appreciating the novelty of dining in a fine restaurant for as long as it lasted.
Eight bowls of rice and countless jugs of wine later, Yo Ling stared out the window, alone despite his captains laughing uproariously around him, playing at their crude drinking games, treating a finely crafted vintage like common bathtub swill. The room afforded him a stunning view of the city, windows looking out in every direction, yet no matter where he turned, he found himself unable to match anything he saw to the memories of his youth. Resting his hand against the windowsill, he chuckled ruefully at the wrinkled skin and sagging muscle as melancholy overtook him. How time made fools of them all. You know, he said, the room falling silent at his words, Back in my day, this restaurant would have been smack dab in the centre of the poor quarters.
Huh, Pang remarked, still audibly chewing. Never knew ye grew up here boss, and in the poor quarter to boot. Now aint that some shit. Always thought ye were one of them hoity-toity noble types, with all yer fancy book learning and whatnot.
Suppressing his irritation at the interruption, Yo Ling reminded himself that Pang would be needed in days to come. Instead of imagining the torture and pain hed like to inflict on Pang, he carried on with his reminiscing, speaking aloud just to hear his voice. My father was a cooper, my mother a washerwoman. He had a little workshop tucked between an inn and a brewery, which stood where that burning manor stands right now. Mother brought the laundry down to that bridge there every day, where she worked her fingers raw in the numbing cold waters. Any idle time I had, and it wasnt much, I tell you this, I spent playing round the midden heap, now a lovely little orchard over yonder. It wasnt an easy life, but it was a good one, a safe one, and I wanted to keep it that way for my family and all the families of Sanshu.
A small pang of regret coursed through him as he remembered his mothers tears, begging him to reconsider joining the army, but it was too late. The papers had been signed, and that was the last hed ever see of his parents. He rose through the ranks of the military, fought at the Wall, and in return, his parents were tossed out of Sanshu to die in the wilds, with nothing to their name. That was the beginning, deserting the army and embarking on a journey spanning eight decades, all to arrive right back where he started. This isnt the city I grew up in. I remember a city teeming with life, its bustling population packed shoulder to shoulder on busy days. The Magistrate wouldnt have been able to evacuate the district if he had two weeks, much less two days, but here we sit in an empty, lifeless shell of a town. A travesty is what it is.
That it is, Nazier responded. Aint no sport to be had. A few laughs and snickers of agreement followed, the gathered bandits eager for more bloodshed and mayhem.
You miss my point. Shaking his head, he gestured towards the walls. Those sturdy walls were put in place by our ancestors to defend the people, but where are the people now? Outside them, thats where, living in shanty towns and run down villages, eking out a life in the mud and mines. After slaving their days away all so a chosen few can profit from their efforts, they return home in fear of beasts and bandits. This city has become a utopia of debauchery and gluttony, where the corrupt and unscrupulous gather to extort and exploit.
Stealing while barely lifting a finger, laughing as the stupid rubes thank their lucky stars for their gainful employment. Kaliyan sighed, her lovely red lips smacking as she licked the grease from her fingers. The fat nobles of Sanshu really had it made. Another round of laughter followed, though a little lacking as every eye turned to her heaving bosom. If he were thirty years younger, hed be stupid enough to bed her, but not even the Spectre Yo Ling knew how many died, quivering beneath her naked flesh.
Ah what times he lived in now. Where were the Lu An Jings or DuGu Tian Shas of today, warriors rising from the ranks to fight for the people? Nowhere to be found, while young upstarts like Situ Jia Yang and Baatar worked towards their own selfish agendas, undeserving of fame or fortune. Here he stood with the younger generation, measuring the Viper Pangs, the Black Hearted Naziers, and the Kaliyan the Despoilers of today against those vaunted heroes of yesteryear, and he found them sorely lacking.
A small disturbance interrupted his thoughts, unnoticed by the others in the room. How interesting, perhaps he could have some fun. Putting it aside, he returned to his musings. Of those whod been there when he first stepped onto the rapacious path, none were left to him now, dead in the ground or gone to side with the traitorous wretch Liu Gan. His scar ached at the bitter memory, made worse now that Gao Qiu, his last loyal comrade and staunchest supporter was nowhere to be found.
Well, it was a good effort, son. This one would make a fine addition to his brethren if he could be made to see the light, a true warrior down to the core. He even had his own Spirits already, though they were rendered helpless by his foolhardy obstinance. You almost had me with your second thrust, though it was more luck than anything. Shoddy workmanship, that chair. Whats your name, boy?
No need for a dead man to know my name. Something in his tone warned Yo Ling and he dove aside. Arrows pierced through the air where hed been standing, crashing through the other wall and sailing out into the city, a testament to the power behind them. In the chaos, the assailant rolled out the broken wall and tumbled down the roof, escaping from Yo Lings grasp by the barest of margins. Chuckling, he watched as group of warriors came out of the shadows and caught the assailant. Striking like lightning, they cut a swathe through his Butchers, escaping over the rooftops with ease in a matter of seconds.
Turning to the awestruck Nazier, Yo Ling sighed. His Butchers flaws were all the clearer when compared to true warriors. Did all the Bekhai specialize in healing? Less than a minute to heal a torn throat back to working order, how long would it take for him to recover fully? Two, maybe three days judging by the ridiculous speed. How intriguing. Spread the word, we attack the bridge at midnight. No more waiting. His poor Transcendents wouldnt last the week with that Paragon picking them off from the shadows.
Now that hed met one of the Bekhai, Yo Ling could hardly wait to meet the Devourer. If some nameless warrior could be this strong, then perhaps the Undying Savage Falling Rain truly deserved his reputation. A young, impressionable mind already encroaching upon the truth, perhaps another talent could be added to the ranks of Yo Lings Butchers.
Truly, this was a matter of new waves overtaking the old.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dabbing the sweat from his forehead, Chao Yong peered out the window of his barge, ignoring the jeers and refuse raining down upon him. Last night, hed taken a tonic to help him sleep, and this morning had woken to find all his carefully laid plans gone to shit. A crowd of peasants sat outside every city gate, including the river gate hed intended to use for his stealthy exit. It should have been a simple enough matter to resolve. After sending word to Sovanna of the disturbance, he waited for the hulking giantess and her bullies to disperse the crowds. Hours later, the crowds were larger than ever, panic overtaking the worthless rabble as they sought escape from the city. Lazy ingrates are what they were, he had a mind to send his guards to cut a path through them, but those worthless fools were too cowardly to obey. Shrimp soldiers and paper tigers the lot of them, unable to even stand against untrained peasants, but they were all he had.
Day turned to night as the situation worsened, and he could wait no longer. Since leaving quietly was no longer an option, he would leave openly, ordering his barges to set out for the gate. What did the opinion of the unwashed masses matter? So what if word spread of his actions? By taking all his wealth away, he denied those resources to the Enemy, almost heroic if one thought about it. They were merely jealous of his resourcefulness, wishing they too were important enough to warrant rescue.
Unfortunately, Sergeant Yimu reneged on their deal, refusing to open the gates or even respond to Yong's guards. Turtled inside his gatehouse, the bastard ignored the pleas of the peasants and threats from Yongs guards, laughing from his safe perch as Yong sat here, exposed and helpless with all his wealth in the open. Worst of all, his guards were busy fighting off peasants trying to board his barges, so taking the gates by force was but a dream.
Opening his window, he shouted to his guard. Send word to the Sergeant, I will triple my offer if he opens the gates immediately. Should he refuse, I will bring the full fury of the Eastern Prosperity Alliance upon the gates and see him and his loved ones dead before I go.
Minutes passed without change and Yong fumed in impotence, wracking his brain for ideas. Perhaps cooperation with another councilman was in order, but who? Alone, he lacked the forces to take the gates, but with help...
The sluice gate groaned as the chains turned, slowly lifting out of the water. Thank the Mother and curse that greedy Sergeant, a clean death would be too kind. As he instructed his guards to kill the Sergeant slowly, the words froze on his lips. The ponderous gate rose to reveal a flotilla of rafts and ships waiting just outside the city. Smaller ships glided into the city as its fearsome occupants seized Yongs barges with ease, clearing the channel so their brethren could enter unimpeded.
Shutting the window, Yong ran to the door and bolted it shut before returning to his cot and throwing a blanket over his head. Teeth chattering and body quivering, he fought the urge to vomit as he prayed for deliverance.
It was too late. The Defiled were all around him. There was no escape.
Chapter Meme
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Chapter 203
Careful to keep his wide sleeves from touching the dishes, Yo Ling smiled with satisfaction as his chopsticks sank into the tender, broiled fish, the white flesh separating beneath his light touch. Stirring a small portion through the greasy juices, he placed it neatly in his tiny bowl, sipping his wine and waiting for the savoury sauce to drip down into the rice. This was to be his first fine meal in ages, and he deserved to take his time and properly enjoy it. Though a man of exceeding wealth and power, his choice of career carried certain hardships with it, such as denying him some of the finer things in life. Today, he indulged, wearing quality silk clothes and eating rich foods with his bandit captains, inside this beautiful private room reserved only for the wealthiest and ostentatious of guests.
Decorated with some of the finest works of art in all the north, a single vase stood out to his untrained eye. Snow-white porcelain glazed in a regal-blue ink, the beautiful piece demanded his attention from the moment he laid eye upon it. Depicting a long, sinuous dragon coiled around the vase, every detail and motion was captured perfectly, the creature so natural and true to life it almost leaped from the porcelain. Its body was an entangled mess, so chaotic and twisted yet hiding a logical pattern within, clear to those who chose to see. From one angle, the dragon soared through the clouds, roaring majestically in all its glory. Turn the vase and the scene changed, now a menacing beast, ready to devour the world. Turn it again and it transformed into a lazy lizard, defeated and railing against its fate. Turn it one last time, and there it lay, face hidden in the dirt, dead and defeated.
Glory, conflict, defeat, and death, a masterful work from an artist with the soul of a warrior. In his youth, he wouldnt have spared the vase a second look, deeming it lavish and frivolous. Nowadays, he rarely had a moment free of the Spirits gibbering, bringing him news from across the lands and leaving him to parse through the torrent of information in search of something useful. Since the attack started, the Spirits voices had synchronized into a soothing cry for war, drowning out any useless chatter and giving him peace of mind for the first time in ages.
In a jovial mood, he cleared his throat and raised his cup in toast, smiling at his comrades in arms gathered around the round table. Many were long since dyed in the truth while others were newly Enlightened, but they were his Butchers, his brethren, his family one and all. Weve come a long way from our humble roots, and here we are now. To revolution and bloodshed, our reward for toil and trouble. Downing the drink, he smacked his lips in satisfaction. Fine wine.
The humourless Nazier horked on the restaurant floor, clearing his throat before speaking. Too fruity for my tastes. Wheres the kick, something to put fire in a mans belly? Shaking his head, he returned to devouring his food with all the manners of an orangutan in heat. Several murmurs of assent followed, the finest fighting men he could gather, a pack of animals lacking taste. Perhaps he should return to dining alone. It was hard to find good help these days, but one made do with what one could.
Resisting the urge to correct Naziers behaviour, Yo Ling returned to his meal, sampling a piece from every dish before these brutes could ruin them. There were only so many ways for his chefs to cook human flesh, so he was taking a break before indulging once more. A cleansing of his palate so to speak, appreciating the novelty of dining in a fine restaurant for as long as it lasted.
Eight bowls of rice and countless jugs of wine later, Yo Ling stared out the window, alone despite his captains laughing uproariously around him, playing at their crude drinking games, treating a finely crafted vintage like common bathtub swill. The room afforded him a stunning view of the city, windows looking out in every direction, yet no matter where he turned, he found himself unable to match anything he saw to the memories of his youth. Resting his hand against the windowsill, he chuckled ruefully at the wrinkled skin and sagging muscle as melancholy overtook him. How time made fools of them all. You know, he said, the room falling silent at his words, Back in my day, this restaurant would have been smack dab in the centre of the poor quarters.
Huh, Pang remarked, still audibly chewing. Never knew ye grew up here boss, and in the poor quarter to boot. Now aint that some shit. Always thought ye were one of them hoity-toity noble types, with all yer fancy book learning and whatnot.
Suppressing his irritation at the interruption, Yo Ling reminded himself that Pang would be needed in days to come. Instead of imagining the torture and pain hed like to inflict on Pang, he carried on with his reminiscing, speaking aloud just to hear his voice. My father was a cooper, my mother a washerwoman. He had a little workshop tucked between an inn and a brewery, which stood where that burning manor stands right now. Mother brought the laundry down to that bridge there every day, where she worked her fingers raw in the numbing cold waters. Any idle time I had, and it wasnt much, I tell you this, I spent playing round the midden heap, now a lovely little orchard over yonder. It wasnt an easy life, but it was a good one, a safe one, and I wanted to keep it that way for my family and all the families of Sanshu.
A small pang of regret coursed through him as he remembered his mothers tears, begging him to reconsider joining the army, but it was too late. The papers had been signed, and that was the last hed ever see of his parents. He rose through the ranks of the military, fought at the Wall, and in return, his parents were tossed out of Sanshu to die in the wilds, with nothing to their name. That was the beginning, deserting the army and embarking on a journey spanning eight decades, all to arrive right back where he started. This isnt the city I grew up in. I remember a city teeming with life, its bustling population packed shoulder to shoulder on busy days. The Magistrate wouldnt have been able to evacuate the district if he had two weeks, much less two days, but here we sit in an empty, lifeless shell of a town. A travesty is what it is.
That it is, Nazier responded. Aint no sport to be had. A few laughs and snickers of agreement followed, the gathered bandits eager for more bloodshed and mayhem.
You miss my point. Shaking his head, he gestured towards the walls. Those sturdy walls were put in place by our ancestors to defend the people, but where are the people now? Outside them, thats where, living in shanty towns and run down villages, eking out a life in the mud and mines. After slaving their days away all so a chosen few can profit from their efforts, they return home in fear of beasts and bandits. This city has become a utopia of debauchery and gluttony, where the corrupt and unscrupulous gather to extort and exploit.
Stealing while barely lifting a finger, laughing as the stupid rubes thank their lucky stars for their gainful employment. Kaliyan sighed, her lovely red lips smacking as she licked the grease from her fingers. The fat nobles of Sanshu really had it made. Another round of laughter followed, though a little lacking as every eye turned to her heaving bosom. If he were thirty years younger, hed be stupid enough to bed her, but not even the Spectre Yo Ling knew how many died, quivering beneath her naked flesh.
Ah what times he lived in now. Where were the Lu An Jings or DuGu Tian Shas of today, warriors rising from the ranks to fight for the people? Nowhere to be found, while young upstarts like Situ Jia Yang and Baatar worked towards their own selfish agendas, undeserving of fame or fortune. Here he stood with the younger generation, measuring the Viper Pangs, the Black Hearted Naziers, and the Kaliyan the Despoilers of today against those vaunted heroes of yesteryear, and he found them sorely lacking.
A small disturbance interrupted his thoughts, unnoticed by the others in the room. How interesting, perhaps he could have some fun. Putting it aside, he returned to his musings. Of those whod been there when he first stepped onto the rapacious path, none were left to him now, dead in the ground or gone to side with the traitorous wretch Liu Gan. His scar ached at the bitter memory, made worse now that Gao Qiu, his last loyal comrade and staunchest supporter was nowhere to be found.
Well, it was a good effort, son. This one would make a fine addition to his brethren if he could be made to see the light, a true warrior down to the core. He even had his own Spirits already, though they were rendered helpless by his foolhardy obstinance. You almost had me with your second thrust, though it was more luck than anything. Shoddy workmanship, that chair. Whats your name, boy?
No need for a dead man to know my name. Something in his tone warned Yo Ling and he dove aside. Arrows pierced through the air where hed been standing, crashing through the other wall and sailing out into the city, a testament to the power behind them. In the chaos, the assailant rolled out the broken wall and tumbled down the roof, escaping from Yo Lings grasp by the barest of margins. Chuckling, he watched as group of warriors came out of the shadows and caught the assailant. Striking like lightning, they cut a swathe through his Butchers, escaping over the rooftops with ease in a matter of seconds.
Turning to the awestruck Nazier, Yo Ling sighed. His Butchers flaws were all the clearer when compared to true warriors. Did all the Bekhai specialize in healing? Less than a minute to heal a torn throat back to working order, how long would it take for him to recover fully? Two, maybe three days judging by the ridiculous speed. How intriguing. Spread the word, we attack the bridge at midnight. No more waiting. His poor Transcendents wouldnt last the week with that Paragon picking them off from the shadows.
Now that hed met one of the Bekhai, Yo Ling could hardly wait to meet the Devourer. If some nameless warrior could be this strong, then perhaps the Undying Savage Falling Rain truly deserved his reputation. A young, impressionable mind already encroaching upon the truth, perhaps another talent could be added to the ranks of Yo Lings Butchers.
Truly, this was a matter of new waves overtaking the old.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dabbing the sweat from his forehead, Chao Yong peered out the window of his barge, ignoring the jeers and refuse raining down upon him. Last night, hed taken a tonic to help him sleep, and this morning had woken to find all his carefully laid plans gone to shit. A crowd of peasants sat outside every city gate, including the river gate hed intended to use for his stealthy exit. It should have been a simple enough matter to resolve. After sending word to Sovanna of the disturbance, he waited for the hulking giantess and her bullies to disperse the crowds. Hours later, the crowds were larger than ever, panic overtaking the worthless rabble as they sought escape from the city. Lazy ingrates are what they were, he had a mind to send his guards to cut a path through them, but those worthless fools were too cowardly to obey. Shrimp soldiers and paper tigers the lot of them, unable to even stand against untrained peasants, but they were all he had.
Day turned to night as the situation worsened, and he could wait no longer. Since leaving quietly was no longer an option, he would leave openly, ordering his barges to set out for the gate. What did the opinion of the unwashed masses matter? So what if word spread of his actions? By taking all his wealth away, he denied those resources to the Enemy, almost heroic if one thought about it. They were merely jealous of his resourcefulness, wishing they too were important enough to warrant rescue.
Unfortunately, Sergeant Yimu reneged on their deal, refusing to open the gates or even respond to Yong's guards. Turtled inside his gatehouse, the bastard ignored the pleas of the peasants and threats from Yongs guards, laughing from his safe perch as Yong sat here, exposed and helpless with all his wealth in the open. Worst of all, his guards were busy fighting off peasants trying to board his barges, so taking the gates by force was but a dream.
Opening his window, he shouted to his guard. Send word to the Sergeant, I will triple my offer if he opens the gates immediately. Should he refuse, I will bring the full fury of the Eastern Prosperity Alliance upon the gates and see him and his loved ones dead before I go.
Minutes passed without change and Yong fumed in impotence, wracking his brain for ideas. Perhaps cooperation with another councilman was in order, but who? Alone, he lacked the forces to take the gates, but with help...
The sluice gate groaned as the chains turned, slowly lifting out of the water. Thank the Mother and curse that greedy Sergeant, a clean death would be too kind. As he instructed his guards to kill the Sergeant slowly, the words froze on his lips. The ponderous gate rose to reveal a flotilla of rafts and ships waiting just outside the city. Smaller ships glided into the city as its fearsome occupants seized Yongs barges with ease, clearing the channel so their brethren could enter unimpeded.
Shutting the window, Yong ran to the door and bolted it shut before returning to his cot and throwing a blanket over his head. Teeth chattering and body quivering, he fought the urge to vomit as he prayed for deliverance.
It was too late. The Defiled were all around him. There was no escape.
Chapter Meme
Chapter 203Careful to keep his wide sleeves from touching the dishes, Yo Ling smiled with satisfaction as his chopsticks sank into the tender, broiled fish, the white flesh separating beneath his light touch. Stirring a small portion through the greasy juices, he placed it neatly in his tiny bowl, sipping his wine and waiting for the savoury sauce to drip down into the rice. This was to be his first fine meal in ages, and he deserved to take his time and properly enjoy it. Though a man of exceeding wealth and power, his choice of career carried certain hardships with it, such as denying him some of the finer things in life. Today, he indulged, wearing quality silk clothes and eating rich foods with his bandit captains, inside this beautiful private room reserved only for the wealthiest and ostentatious of guests.Decorated with some of the finest works of art in all the north, a single vase stood out to his untrained eye. Snow-white porcelain glazed in a regal-blue ink, the beautiful piece demanded his attention from the moment he laid eye upon it. Depicting a long, sinuous dragon coiled around the vase, every detail and motion was captured perfectly, the creature so natural and true to life it almost leaped from the porcelain. Its body was an entangled mess, so chaotic and twisted yet hiding a logical pattern within, clear to those who chose to see. From one angle, the dragon soared through the clouds, roaring majestically in all its glory. Turn the vase and the scene changed, now a menacing beast, ready to devour the world. Turn it again and it transformed into a lazy lizard, defeated and railing against its fate. Turn it one last time, and there it lay, face hidden in the dirt, dead and defeated.Glory, conflict, defeat, and death, a masterful work from an artist with the soul of a warrior. In his youth, he wouldnt have spared the vase a second look, deeming it lavish and frivolous. Nowadays, he rarely had a moment free of the Spirits gibbering, bringing him news from across the lands and leaving him to parse through the torrent of information in search of something useful. Since the attack started, the Spirits voices had synchronized into a soothing cry for war, drowning out any useless chatter and giving him peace of mind for the first time in ages.In a jovial mood, he cleared his throat and raised his cup in toast, smiling at his comrades in arms gathered around the round table. Many were long since dyed in the truth while others were newly Enlightened, but they were his Butchers, his brethren, his family one and all. Weve come a long way from our humble roots, and here we are now. To revolution and bloodshed, our reward for toil and trouble. Downing the drink, he smacked his lips in satisfaction. Fine wine.The humourless Nazier horked on the restaurant floor, clearing his throat before speaking. Too fruity for my tastes. Wheres the kick, something to put fire in a mans belly? Shaking his head, he returned to devouring his food with all the manners of an orangutan in heat. Several murmurs of assent followed, the finest fighting men he could gather, a pack of animals lacking taste. Perhaps he should return to dining alone. It was hard to find good help these days, but one made do with what one could.Resisting the urge to correct Naziers behaviour, Yo Ling returned to his meal, sampling a piece from every dish before these brutes could ruin them. There were only so many ways for his chefs to cook human flesh, so he was taking a break before indulging once more. A cleansing of his palate so to speak, appreciating the novelty of dining in a fine restaurant for as long as it lasted.Eight bowls of rice and countless jugs of wine later, Yo Ling stared out the window, alone despite his captains laughing uproariously around him, playing at their crude drinking games, treating a finely crafted vintage like common bathtub swill. The room afforded him a stunning view of the city, windows looking out in every direction, yet no matter where he turned, he found himself unable to match anything he saw to the memories of his youth. Resting his hand against the windowsill, he chuckled ruefully at the wrinkled skin and sagging muscle as melancholy overtook him. How time made fools of them all. You know, he said, the room falling silent at his words, Back in my day, this restaurant would have been smack dab in the centre of the poor quarters.Huh, Pang remarked, still audibly chewing. Never knew ye grew up here boss, and in the poor quarter to boot. Now aint that some shit. Always thought ye were one of them hoity-toity noble types, with all yer fancy book learning and whatnot.Suppressing his irritation at the interruption, Yo Ling reminded himself that Pang would be needed in days to come. Instead of imagining the torture and pain hed like to inflict on Pang, he carried on with his reminiscing, speaking aloud just to hear his voice. My father was a cooper, my mother a washerwoman. He had a little workshop tucked between an inn and a brewery, which stood where that burning manor stands right now. Mother brought the laundry down to that bridge there every day, where she worked her fingers raw in the numbing cold waters. Any idle time I had, and it wasnt much, I tell you this, I spent playing round the midden heap, now a lovely little orchard over yonder. It wasnt an easy life, but it was a good one, a safe one, and I wanted to keep it that way for my family and all the families of Sanshu.A small pang of regret coursed through him as he remembered his mothers tears, begging him to reconsider joining the army, but it was too late. The papers had been signed, and that was the last hed ever see of his parents. He rose through the ranks of the military, fought at the Wall, and in return, his parents were tossed out of Sanshu to die in the wilds, with nothing to their name. That was the beginning, deserting the army and embarking on a journey spanning eight decades, all to arrive right back where he started. This isnt the city I grew up in. I remember a city teeming with life, its bustling population packed shoulder to shoulder on busy days. The Magistrate wouldnt have been able to evacuate the district if he had two weeks, much less two days, but here we sit in an empty, lifeless shell of a town. A travesty is what it is.That it is, Nazier responded. Aint no sport to be had. A few laughs and snickers of agreement followed, the gathered bandits eager for more bloodshed and mayhem.You miss my point. Shaking his head, he gestured towards the walls. Those sturdy walls were put in place by our ancestors to defend the people, but where are the people now? Outside them, thats where, living in shanty towns and run down villages, eking out a life in the mud and mines. After slaving their days away all so a chosen few can profit from their efforts, they return home in fear of beasts and bandits. This city has become a utopia of debauchery and gluttony, where the corrupt and unscrupulous gather to extort and exploit.Stealing while barely lifting a finger, laughing as the stupid rubes thank their lucky stars for their gainful employment. Kaliyan sighed, her lovely red lips smacking as she licked the grease from her fingers. The fat nobles of Sanshu really had it made. Another round of laughter followed, though a little lacking as every eye turned to her heaving bosom. If he were thirty years younger, hed be stupid enough to bed her, but not even the Spectre Yo Ling knew how many died, quivering beneath her naked flesh.Ah what times he lived in now. Where were the Lu An Jings or DuGu Tian Shas of today, warriors rising from the ranks to fight for the people? Nowhere to be found, while young upstarts like Situ Jia Yang and Baatar worked towards their own selfish agendas, undeserving of fame or fortune. Here he stood with the younger generation, measuring the Viper Pangs, the Black Hearted Naziers, and the Kaliyan the Despoilers of today against those vaunted heroes of yesteryear, and he found them sorely lacking.A small disturbance interrupted his thoughts, unnoticed by the others in the room. How interesting, perhaps he could have some fun. Putting it aside, he returned to his musings. Of those whod been there when he first stepped onto the rapacious path, none were left to him now, dead in the ground or gone to side with the traitorous wretch Liu Gan. His scar ached at the bitter memory, made worse now that Gao Qiu, his last loyal comrade and staunchest supporter was nowhere to be found.Well, it was a good effort, son. This one would make a fine addition to his brethren if he could be made to see the light, a true warrior down to the core. He even had his own Spirits already, though they were rendered helpless by his foolhardy obstinance. You almost had me with your second thrust, though it was more luck than anything. Shoddy workmanship, that chair. Whats your name, boy?No need for a dead man to know my name. Something in his tone warned Yo Ling and he dove aside. Arrows pierced through the air where hed been standing, crashing through the other wall and sailing out into the city, a testament to the power behind them. In the chaos, the assailant rolled out the broken wall and tumbled down the roof, escaping from Yo Lings grasp by the barest of margins. Chuckling, he watched as group of warriors came out of the shadows and caught the assailant. Striking like lightning, they cut a swathe through his Butchers, escaping over the rooftops with ease in a matter of seconds.Turning to the awestruck Nazier, Yo Ling sighed. His Butchers flaws were all the clearer when compared to true warriors. Did all the Bekhai specialize in healing? Less than a minute to heal a torn throat back to working order, how long would it take for him to recover fully? Two, maybe three days judging by the ridiculous speed. How intriguing. Spread the word, we attack the bridge at midnight. No more waiting. His poor Transcendents wouldnt last the week with that Paragon picking them off from the shadows.Now that hed met one of the Bekhai, Yo Ling could hardly wait to meet the Devourer. If some nameless warrior could be this strong, then perhaps the Undying Savage Falling Rain truly deserved his reputation. A young, impressionable mind already encroaching upon the truth, perhaps another talent could be added to the ranks of Yo Lings Butchers.Truly, this was a matter of new waves overtaking the old.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Dabbing the sweat from his forehead, Chao Yong peered out the window of his barge, ignoring the jeers and refuse raining down upon him. Last night, hed taken a tonic to help him sleep, and this morning had woken to find all his carefully laid plans gone to shit. A crowd of peasants sat outside every city gate, including the river gate hed intended to use for his stealthy exit. It should have been a simple enough matter to resolve. After sending word to Sovanna of the disturbance, he waited for the hulking giantess and her bullies to disperse the crowds. Hours later, the crowds were larger than ever, panic overtaking the worthless rabble as they sought escape from the city. Lazy ingrates are what they were, he had a mind to send his guards to cut a path through them, but those worthless fools were too cowardly to obey. Shrimp soldiers and paper tigers the lot of them, unable to even stand against untrained peasants, but they were all he had.Day turned to night as the situation worsened, and he could wait no longer. Since leaving quietly was no longer an option, he would leave openly, ordering his barges to set out for the gate. What did the opinion of the unwashed masses matter? So what if word spread of his actions? By taking all his wealth away, he denied those resources to the Enemy, almost heroic if one thought about it. They were merely jealous of his resourcefulness, wishing they too were important enough to warrant rescue.Unfortunately, Sergeant Yimu reneged on their deal, refusing to open the gates or even respond to Yong's guards. Turtled inside his gatehouse, the bastard ignored the pleas of the peasants and threats from Yongs guards, laughing from his safe perch as Yong sat here, exposed and helpless with all his wealth in the open. Worst of all, his guards were busy fighting off peasants trying to board his barges, so taking the gates by force was but a dream.Opening his window, he shouted to his guard. Send word to the Sergeant, I will triple my offer if he opens the gates immediately. Should he refuse, I will bring the full fury of the Eastern Prosperity Alliance upon the gates and see him and his loved ones dead before I go.Minutes passed without change and Yong fumed in impotence, wracking his brain for ideas. Perhaps cooperation with another councilman was in order, but who? Alone, he lacked the forces to take the gates, but with help...The sluice gate groaned as the chains turned, slowly lifting out of the water. Thank the Mother and curse that greedy Sergeant, a clean death would be too kind. As he instructed his guards to kill the Sergeant slowly, the words froze on his lips. The ponderous gate rose to reveal a flotilla of rafts and ships waiting just outside the city. Smaller ships glided into the city as its fearsome occupants seized Yongs barges with ease, clearing the channel so their brethren could enter unimpeded.Shutting the window, Yong ran to the door and bolted it shut before returning to his cot and throwing a blanket over his head. Teeth chattering and body quivering, he fought the urge to vomit as he prayed for deliverance.It was too late. The Defiled were all around him. There was no escape.Chapter Meme
