Chapter 418
If audio player doesn't work, press Stop then Play button again
Chapter 418
Though not the most intimidating savage Rustram had ever seen, the Defiled Champion came close. Standing head and shoulders above his comrades, his arms, shoulders, and chest bulged with thick, discoloured muscles, so swollen with tissue he could barely stand upright. In spite of this, it wasnt his sheer size which daunted Rustram so, nor was it how the Champion paced before his Defiled brethren, more wild, ferocious beast than civilized being. His (disturbingly slim) legs kicked out to accentuate his speech, shouted in his guttural tongue, with each step raising his knees higher than his waist in jerky, exaggerated stomps. His oversized arms pumped in random intervals, much to the delight of his audience, and the jarring, spasmodic movements seemed so unnatural and inhuman, Rustram thought the Defiled Champion had no control of his limbs until he noted the rhythm between the speech and movements were perfectly coordinated.
Upon further study, he realized he was watching something akin to a ritualized dance, with many Defiled in the crowd following suit. Each exaggerated motion carried an unknown meaning, a cleaving motion here or a stomping motion there, eyes wide and spittle flying as he glared across the open field at Phoenix Squad with boundless hatred and lust for violence. Add to this his human-leather mask adorned with hanging ears, grotesque body festooned with bizarre, bone piercings, and towering great-sword hewn from polished bone, and the Defiled Champion had Rustram thoroughly unnerved.
And when the Enemy Horde fell silent and the Champion pointed directly at him, Rustram became acutely aware of how full his bladder felt and miraculously kept it from draining out.
It appears youve been challenged, Mister Rustram.
Patronizing as always, Daxian stated the obvious as if worried no one else had seen it. Choking down the urge to throttle the man, Rustram quietly exhaled and prayed his voice wouldnt break. Yes, thank you, he replied, his tone calm and dry as if his heart wasnt on the verge of hammering out of his chest. I didnt notice. This would not only be his first duel since coming to the front lines, but also his first duel ever. Thus far, the Enemy Champions had a tendency to overlook him in favour of the others like Ulfsaar, Wang Bao, or even lazy Silva who did everything he could to remain unseen, but it seems Rustrams luck had just run out.
Your challenger has an Aura. Daxian almost sounded gleeful, but Rustram attributed it to his imagination and instead focused on the disastrous news. While possession of an Aura said nothing about the Champions actual strength, it guaranteed he wouldnt be weak. A Defiled Weapon too.
More bad news. How can you tell? The voice was his but Rustram felt as if the words were spoken by a stranger, tinged with bored curiosity rather than gut-wrenching terror.
Well, I cant be entirely sure at this distance, but its a fair assumption. Rustram almost screamed in frustration but luckily Daxian kept speaking. The Defiled arent exactly known for their craftsmanship, which makes that great-sword a masterwork by their standards. And only by their standards. The bone sword mightve once been pearly white, but time and handling had turned it mostly yellow with splotches of dark, mottled reddish-brown, stained by age and the blood of countless victims. Otherwise, it did seem rather well crafted, not to the standards of a Divine Blacksmith, but if the weapon were made of metal, itd fit right in on the shelves of an Imperial Armoury.
In an unusually chatty mood (perhaps due to Rustrams impending doom), Daxian continued, Theres no definitive proof aside from recorded observations, but the Defiled Weapons likely imbue their wielders with enhanced skill, strength, and cunning. Most have barbed spikes on their grips, leading scholars to theorize the weapons require the blood of their wielders to function, though why, no one can definitively say. The prevailing theory is that the Defiled Weapons are more analogous to Spiritual Hearts rather than Spiritual Weapons, an almost living object which changes and grows given time. The barbs are to physically bind the weapon to its wielder, which is why any Defiled can simply pick up the weapon and use it. Fascinating stuff.
None of which was of any help to Rustram in his current situation. Yes, fascinating. If not for the massive discrepancy between their strengths, he wouldve told the former Major to shove his spear up his ass and choke on it.
Perhaps reading Rustrams lack of action as fear, Pran leaned in and quietly asked, I kill Champion, yes?
Hmph. The Khishig helm obscured Wang Baos face from Rustrams view, but he could hear the sneer in the former bandits faked, nasally voice. This wastrel lacks the qualifications to face our second-in-command. Mister Rustram, requesting permission to bring his head back and transfix it to a spike. His articulation and vocabulary were much improved, but underneath the trappings, Wang Bao was still the same cutthroat raider hed always been.
Rustram appreciated the sentiment, but he still couldnt quite bring himself to like the man.
Twenty moves, Wang Bao continued, hefting his double-bladed battle-axe high. If I cant take his head in twenty moves, then Ill eat my boots. Anyone care to raise the stakes?
Twenty? Joining in on the fun, Saluk kissed his spiked maul and declared, Fifteen, but I no bring head. Smush good.
Eight, Ulfsaar growled, and the banter came to a halt. Weeks of non-stop battles had taken a mental toll on the fearsome half-bear as he was forced to embrace his darker side amidst all the battle and bloodshed. He spoke little and smiled less despite Neeras best efforts to bring him happiness and good cheer, as if bloodshed was the only thing which could bring him joy. With each passing day, Rustram watched him slip further into his Voracious persona and feared the pious, gentle giant might never return. Him taking part in this wager gave Rustram some hope, but there was precious little besides fury and madness lurking behind Ulfsaars penetrating gaze.
Five. Ravils confident declaration silenced the other eager contenders and even Ulfsaar looked taken aback. The dark-skinned killers grin unsettled friend and foe alike as he surveyed the crowd, asking, Any takers?
Gratified as Rustram was by their willingness to fight in his place, he couldnt let this continue. Phoenix squad was so named because it held most of the reborn members of the retinue, the worst of the marauders, killers, and blackguards the Boss took in after Sanshu (and Ravil). While theyd all come a long way since, much like Wang Bao, they were still bandits at heart and Rustram would lose their respect if he backed down from this challenge.
More importantly, if Mentor found out hed shirked a challenge, shed tan his hide with an iron paddle. Early on, he discovered her difficulties walking had no effect on her prodigious arm strength, much to his chagrin.
Ravil and Chey didnt lead their quins so much as set them loose on the Enemys back-line. Where Wang Baos cutthroats were wolfish in nature, the enraged roosequins made real wolves look like harmless puppies in comparison. High-pitched squeaks rang out as the roosequins tore into Defiled flesh in coordinated carnage, sounding disturbingly similar to their insistent squeaks of hunger. Rippling muscle shimmered beneath their thick, luxurious fur, wet with gore and viscera as they rent and tore to their animalistic hearts content, their gruesome behaviour wholly at odds with their usually adorable demeanour.
No matter how wild and savage the Defiled might be, they were no match for natures brutal fury, and the quin riders were almost unnecessary. They still put up a valiant effort and Chey in particular was well-suited for mounted combat. Crushing limbs and shattering bones with her thick, metal staff, the weapon came alive in her hands as it thrust this way and that, the force of every impact multiplied by a sharp rotation of Cheys wrist at the moment before impact. Rustram had long since identified it as Wolf Form Twisting Snap, but try as he might, he couldnt replicate the technique. Much like Amplification, the timing and precision required was beyond his ability. Rotate too soon and your efforts were wasted, while too late and the attack will have already landed; yet time and time again, Chey landed her powerful drilling thrusts with inhuman perfection.
If she could grasp the timing of Amplification and combine it with Twisting Snap, then shed have an attack rivalling the Bosss signature charge in raw power, except Chey could unleash her attack in rapid succession.
The wave of roosequins passed through like a storm, and then came the Protectorates turn. Though the longbow was their weapon of choice, the collection of shabby rangers were no slouches in close combat, especially their fearsome leader Sai Chou. Unlike the majority of axe-wielders in the retinue, Sai Chous long-handled axe bore only a single edge, its wedged, rectangular head more wood-cutters tool rather than weapon of war. Regardless, the dishevelled warrior woman used it with expert efficiency, displaying a level of control which surpassed even Dastan. There were no overpowering strikes or reckless swings from Sai Chou, only calculated slashes and measured hacks as she used the bare minimum of strength to maximum effectiveness. Never still even for a moment, her delicate hands moved her axe in tight, flowing circles around her, her defence impenetrable and offence unstoppable. Unlike the perfumed pretenders of Central, Sai Chou revealed herself as a true Expert of the Empire, a hidden dragon who spent her time loitering in the forests of Ping Yao.
Fitting for the vice-leader of the Protectorate to be so strong, second only to a half-beast whose fists could displace Mother knows how many tonnes of water.
Before Rustram knew it, the last Defiled fell and the Enemy Horde had been slaughtered to a man. While Phoenix and Turtle Squad cleaned up the battlefield, Rustram stood to the side and awaited the final tally, dreading the losses no matter how great or small. Two more days would make sixty continuous days on the front lines without reinforcements, a record thus far unmatched, but it had come at significant cost. Mitsue Hideo and Quyen Dienne were close in overall time spent, but the former had three retinues to rotate through while the latter commanded an entire force of rhino or elephant mounted cavalry, a term which hardly seemed appropriate. While the repeated battles had honed the Bosss retinue into an elite fighting force, a blade too sharp was liable to bend or break.
Still... the glory almost made it worth it.
Almost.
Slick blood covered his face and training armour, too much for a mere handkerchief to ever sop up, but he still gave it his best effort. Not even the Boss bathed while out on patrol, so Rustram would have to wait two more days until they returned to Sinuji. A water-skin thumped into his chest which he caught by reflex. Nodding in appreciation at Sai Chou, he drank a small mouthful and offered it back, mostly just to be polite since he had his own water-skin strapped to his belt. For yer face, she said, lips pressed in a phantom of a smile. We all know how ye like to keep pretty. Ser.
Hmph. As if he were the only one who liked to stay clean, not to mention how a little water and grooming would do her wonders, but Rustram was too polite (and frightened) to say it. Thank you, he said, indicating she should take the water-skin back. But we should conserve water wherever we can. Never know what might happen.
Bah. Rolling her eyes in dismissive scorn, Sai Chou collected her gear and spit at her feet, a disgusting habit to be sure. Plenty o water out here on the grasslands, else they wouldnt be grasslands now would they, Ser?
The brief pause every time right before she said Ser irritated Rustram to no end, but he remained cordial and polite as usual. You know the standing orders as well as I do. We do this to guard against tainted water supplies, but if youve issue with the orders, then youre free to bring it up with the Boss.
Yea... about that. So as not to be overheard, Sai Chou switched to Sending, though Rustram lacked the ability to respond in kind. We been out here a long time. Too long, if ye know what I mean. Gesturing at one of Wang Baos cutthroats who was using a Defiled corpse as a puppet to tell a joke, she added, Yer people and mine are startin to crack. Hell, even the Death Corps dont look too hot, so I figured it be time for a break, one we earned ten times over. Whens the Boss gonna let up?
Unsure, Rustram replied, hiding how happy he was to know she shared his concerns. Ill bring it up when I see him.
Good, good. Better it come from you, most folk dont take well to a woman barkin orders. Boss dont seem like the type, but you can never be sure. Nodding in appreciation, Sai Chou punched Rustram on his exposed shoulder and grinned, transforming from deadly Expert to cheery young woman. Fancy fightin you did out there, mighty quick work too. Cant rightly claim I couldve done the same in as many moves. Didnt think ye had it in ye, but seems yer not the puffed-up peacock I thought ye were. With that, she strode away, leaving Rustram alone and conflicted.
Should he be angry about the insult or happy about the compliment?
Putting Sai Chou out of mind, Rustram basked in his moment of glory, for today, he finally felt worthy of his rank and weapon. Though he still had far to go and much to repay, he could hold his head up high as Rustram Albaiev of Shen Huo, second-in-command of Falling Rains retinue, and a Warrior of the Empire.
Now, if only he had a lady friend to share his joy with...
Chapter Meme
Please report us if you find any errors so we can fix it asap!
Chapter 418
Though not the most intimidating savage Rustram had ever seen, the Defiled Champion came close. Standing head and shoulders above his comrades, his arms, shoulders, and chest bulged with thick, discoloured muscles, so swollen with tissue he could barely stand upright. In spite of this, it wasnt his sheer size which daunted Rustram so, nor was it how the Champion paced before his Defiled brethren, more wild, ferocious beast than civilized being. His (disturbingly slim) legs kicked out to accentuate his speech, shouted in his guttural tongue, with each step raising his knees higher than his waist in jerky, exaggerated stomps. His oversized arms pumped in random intervals, much to the delight of his audience, and the jarring, spasmodic movements seemed so unnatural and inhuman, Rustram thought the Defiled Champion had no control of his limbs until he noted the rhythm between the speech and movements were perfectly coordinated.
Upon further study, he realized he was watching something akin to a ritualized dance, with many Defiled in the crowd following suit. Each exaggerated motion carried an unknown meaning, a cleaving motion here or a stomping motion there, eyes wide and spittle flying as he glared across the open field at Phoenix Squad with boundless hatred and lust for violence. Add to this his human-leather mask adorned with hanging ears, grotesque body festooned with bizarre, bone piercings, and towering great-sword hewn from polished bone, and the Defiled Champion had Rustram thoroughly unnerved.
And when the Enemy Horde fell silent and the Champion pointed directly at him, Rustram became acutely aware of how full his bladder felt and miraculously kept it from draining out.
It appears youve been challenged, Mister Rustram.
Patronizing as always, Daxian stated the obvious as if worried no one else had seen it. Choking down the urge to throttle the man, Rustram quietly exhaled and prayed his voice wouldnt break. Yes, thank you, he replied, his tone calm and dry as if his heart wasnt on the verge of hammering out of his chest. I didnt notice. This would not only be his first duel since coming to the front lines, but also his first duel ever. Thus far, the Enemy Champions had a tendency to overlook him in favour of the others like Ulfsaar, Wang Bao, or even lazy Silva who did everything he could to remain unseen, but it seems Rustrams luck had just run out.
Your challenger has an Aura. Daxian almost sounded gleeful, but Rustram attributed it to his imagination and instead focused on the disastrous news. While possession of an Aura said nothing about the Champions actual strength, it guaranteed he wouldnt be weak. A Defiled Weapon too.
More bad news. How can you tell? The voice was his but Rustram felt as if the words were spoken by a stranger, tinged with bored curiosity rather than gut-wrenching terror.
Well, I cant be entirely sure at this distance, but its a fair assumption. Rustram almost screamed in frustration but luckily Daxian kept speaking. The Defiled arent exactly known for their craftsmanship, which makes that great-sword a masterwork by their standards. And only by their standards. The bone sword mightve once been pearly white, but time and handling had turned it mostly yellow with splotches of dark, mottled reddish-brown, stained by age and the blood of countless victims. Otherwise, it did seem rather well crafted, not to the standards of a Divine Blacksmith, but if the weapon were made of metal, itd fit right in on the shelves of an Imperial Armoury.
In an unusually chatty mood (perhaps due to Rustrams impending doom), Daxian continued, Theres no definitive proof aside from recorded observations, but the Defiled Weapons likely imbue their wielders with enhanced skill, strength, and cunning. Most have barbed spikes on their grips, leading scholars to theorize the weapons require the blood of their wielders to function, though why, no one can definitively say. The prevailing theory is that the Defiled Weapons are more analogous to Spiritual Hearts rather than Spiritual Weapons, an almost living object which changes and grows given time. The barbs are to physically bind the weapon to its wielder, which is why any Defiled can simply pick up the weapon and use it. Fascinating stuff.
None of which was of any help to Rustram in his current situation. Yes, fascinating. If not for the massive discrepancy between their strengths, he wouldve told the former Major to shove his spear up his ass and choke on it.
Perhaps reading Rustrams lack of action as fear, Pran leaned in and quietly asked, I kill Champion, yes?
Hmph. The Khishig helm obscured Wang Baos face from Rustrams view, but he could hear the sneer in the former bandits faked, nasally voice. This wastrel lacks the qualifications to face our second-in-command. Mister Rustram, requesting permission to bring his head back and transfix it to a spike. His articulation and vocabulary were much improved, but underneath the trappings, Wang Bao was still the same cutthroat raider hed always been.
Rustram appreciated the sentiment, but he still couldnt quite bring himself to like the man.
Twenty moves, Wang Bao continued, hefting his double-bladed battle-axe high. If I cant take his head in twenty moves, then Ill eat my boots. Anyone care to raise the stakes?
Twenty? Joining in on the fun, Saluk kissed his spiked maul and declared, Fifteen, but I no bring head. Smush good.
Eight, Ulfsaar growled, and the banter came to a halt. Weeks of non-stop battles had taken a mental toll on the fearsome half-bear as he was forced to embrace his darker side amidst all the battle and bloodshed. He spoke little and smiled less despite Neeras best efforts to bring him happiness and good cheer, as if bloodshed was the only thing which could bring him joy. With each passing day, Rustram watched him slip further into his Voracious persona and feared the pious, gentle giant might never return. Him taking part in this wager gave Rustram some hope, but there was precious little besides fury and madness lurking behind Ulfsaars penetrating gaze.
Five. Ravils confident declaration silenced the other eager contenders and even Ulfsaar looked taken aback. The dark-skinned killers grin unsettled friend and foe alike as he surveyed the crowd, asking, Any takers?
Gratified as Rustram was by their willingness to fight in his place, he couldnt let this continue. Phoenix squad was so named because it held most of the reborn members of the retinue, the worst of the marauders, killers, and blackguards the Boss took in after Sanshu (and Ravil). While theyd all come a long way since, much like Wang Bao, they were still bandits at heart and Rustram would lose their respect if he backed down from this challenge.
More importantly, if Mentor found out hed shirked a challenge, shed tan his hide with an iron paddle. Early on, he discovered her difficulties walking had no effect on her prodigious arm strength, much to his chagrin.
Ravil and Chey didnt lead their quins so much as set them loose on the Enemys back-line. Where Wang Baos cutthroats were wolfish in nature, the enraged roosequins made real wolves look like harmless puppies in comparison. High-pitched squeaks rang out as the roosequins tore into Defiled flesh in coordinated carnage, sounding disturbingly similar to their insistent squeaks of hunger. Rippling muscle shimmered beneath their thick, luxurious fur, wet with gore and viscera as they rent and tore to their animalistic hearts content, their gruesome behaviour wholly at odds with their usually adorable demeanour.
No matter how wild and savage the Defiled might be, they were no match for natures brutal fury, and the quin riders were almost unnecessary. They still put up a valiant effort and Chey in particular was well-suited for mounted combat. Crushing limbs and shattering bones with her thick, metal staff, the weapon came alive in her hands as it thrust this way and that, the force of every impact multiplied by a sharp rotation of Cheys wrist at the moment before impact. Rustram had long since identified it as Wolf Form Twisting Snap, but try as he might, he couldnt replicate the technique. Much like Amplification, the timing and precision required was beyond his ability. Rotate too soon and your efforts were wasted, while too late and the attack will have already landed; yet time and time again, Chey landed her powerful drilling thrusts with inhuman perfection.
If she could grasp the timing of Amplification and combine it with Twisting Snap, then shed have an attack rivalling the Bosss signature charge in raw power, except Chey could unleash her attack in rapid succession.
The wave of roosequins passed through like a storm, and then came the Protectorates turn. Though the longbow was their weapon of choice, the collection of shabby rangers were no slouches in close combat, especially their fearsome leader Sai Chou. Unlike the majority of axe-wielders in the retinue, Sai Chous long-handled axe bore only a single edge, its wedged, rectangular head more wood-cutters tool rather than weapon of war. Regardless, the dishevelled warrior woman used it with expert efficiency, displaying a level of control which surpassed even Dastan. There were no overpowering strikes or reckless swings from Sai Chou, only calculated slashes and measured hacks as she used the bare minimum of strength to maximum effectiveness. Never still even for a moment, her delicate hands moved her axe in tight, flowing circles around her, her defence impenetrable and offence unstoppable. Unlike the perfumed pretenders of Central, Sai Chou revealed herself as a true Expert of the Empire, a hidden dragon who spent her time loitering in the forests of Ping Yao.
Fitting for the vice-leader of the Protectorate to be so strong, second only to a half-beast whose fists could displace Mother knows how many tonnes of water.
Before Rustram knew it, the last Defiled fell and the Enemy Horde had been slaughtered to a man. While Phoenix and Turtle Squad cleaned up the battlefield, Rustram stood to the side and awaited the final tally, dreading the losses no matter how great or small. Two more days would make sixty continuous days on the front lines without reinforcements, a record thus far unmatched, but it had come at significant cost. Mitsue Hideo and Quyen Dienne were close in overall time spent, but the former had three retinues to rotate through while the latter commanded an entire force of rhino or elephant mounted cavalry, a term which hardly seemed appropriate. While the repeated battles had honed the Bosss retinue into an elite fighting force, a blade too sharp was liable to bend or break.
Still... the glory almost made it worth it.
Almost.
Slick blood covered his face and training armour, too much for a mere handkerchief to ever sop up, but he still gave it his best effort. Not even the Boss bathed while out on patrol, so Rustram would have to wait two more days until they returned to Sinuji. A water-skin thumped into his chest which he caught by reflex. Nodding in appreciation at Sai Chou, he drank a small mouthful and offered it back, mostly just to be polite since he had his own water-skin strapped to his belt. For yer face, she said, lips pressed in a phantom of a smile. We all know how ye like to keep pretty. Ser.
Hmph. As if he were the only one who liked to stay clean, not to mention how a little water and grooming would do her wonders, but Rustram was too polite (and frightened) to say it. Thank you, he said, indicating she should take the water-skin back. But we should conserve water wherever we can. Never know what might happen.
Bah. Rolling her eyes in dismissive scorn, Sai Chou collected her gear and spit at her feet, a disgusting habit to be sure. Plenty o water out here on the grasslands, else they wouldnt be grasslands now would they, Ser?
The brief pause every time right before she said Ser irritated Rustram to no end, but he remained cordial and polite as usual. You know the standing orders as well as I do. We do this to guard against tainted water supplies, but if youve issue with the orders, then youre free to bring it up with the Boss.
Yea... about that. So as not to be overheard, Sai Chou switched to Sending, though Rustram lacked the ability to respond in kind. We been out here a long time. Too long, if ye know what I mean. Gesturing at one of Wang Baos cutthroats who was using a Defiled corpse as a puppet to tell a joke, she added, Yer people and mine are startin to crack. Hell, even the Death Corps dont look too hot, so I figured it be time for a break, one we earned ten times over. Whens the Boss gonna let up?
Unsure, Rustram replied, hiding how happy he was to know she shared his concerns. Ill bring it up when I see him.
Good, good. Better it come from you, most folk dont take well to a woman barkin orders. Boss dont seem like the type, but you can never be sure. Nodding in appreciation, Sai Chou punched Rustram on his exposed shoulder and grinned, transforming from deadly Expert to cheery young woman. Fancy fightin you did out there, mighty quick work too. Cant rightly claim I couldve done the same in as many moves. Didnt think ye had it in ye, but seems yer not the puffed-up peacock I thought ye were. With that, she strode away, leaving Rustram alone and conflicted.
Should he be angry about the insult or happy about the compliment?
Putting Sai Chou out of mind, Rustram basked in his moment of glory, for today, he finally felt worthy of his rank and weapon. Though he still had far to go and much to repay, he could hold his head up high as Rustram Albaiev of Shen Huo, second-in-command of Falling Rains retinue, and a Warrior of the Empire.
Now, if only he had a lady friend to share his joy with...
Chapter Meme
Chapter 418Though not the most intimidating savage Rustram had ever seen, the Defiled Champion came close. Standing head and shoulders above his comrades, his arms, shoulders, and chest bulged with thick, discoloured muscles, so swollen with tissue he could barely stand upright. In spite of this, it wasnt his sheer size which daunted Rustram so, nor was it how the Champion paced before his Defiled brethren, more wild, ferocious beast than civilized being. His disturbingly slim legs kicked out to accentuate his speech, shouted in his guttural tongue, with each step raising his knees higher than his waist in jerky, exaggerated stomps. His oversized arms pumped in random intervals, much to the delight of his audience, and the jarring, spasmodic movements seemed so unnatural and inhuman, Rustram thought the Defiled Champion had no control of his limbs until he noted the rhythm between the speech and movements were perfectly coordinated.Upon further study, he realized he was watching something akin to a ritualized dance, with many Defiled in the crowd following suit. Each exaggerated motion carried an unknown meaning, a cleaving motion here or a stomping motion there, eyes wide and spittle flying as he glared across the open field at Phoenix Squad with boundless hatred and lust for violence. Add to this his human-leather mask adorned with hanging ears, grotesque body festooned with bizarre, bone piercings, and towering great-sword hewn from polished bone, and the Defiled Champion had Rustram thoroughly unnerved.And when the Enemy Horde fell silent and the Champion pointed directly at him, Rustram became acutely aware of how full his bladder felt and miraculously kept it from draining out.It appears youve been challenged, Mister Rustram.Patronizing as always, Daxian stated the obvious as if worried no one else had seen it. Choking down the urge to throttle the man, Rustram quietly exhaled and prayed his voice wouldnt break. Yes, thank you, he replied, his tone calm and dry as if his heart wasnt on the verge of hammering out of his chest. I didnt notice. This would not only be his first duel since coming to the front lines, but also his first duel ever. Thus far, the Enemy Champions had a tendency to overlook him in favour of the others like Ulfsaar, Wang Bao, or even lazy Silva who did everything he could to remain unseen, but it seems Rustrams luck had just run out.Your challenger has an Aura. Daxian almost sounded gleeful, but Rustram attributed it to his imagination and instead focused on the disastrous news. While possession of an Aura said nothing about the Champions actual strength, it guaranteed he wouldnt be weak. A Defiled Weapon too.More bad news. How can you tell? The voice was his but Rustram felt as if the words were spoken by a stranger, tinged with bored curiosity rather than gut-wrenching terror.Well, I cant be entirely sure at this distance, but its a fair assumption. Rustram almost screamed in frustration but luckily Daxian kept speaking. The Defiled arent exactly known for their craftsmanship, which makes that great-sword a masterwork by their standards. And only by their standards. The bone sword mightve once been pearly white, but time and handling had turned it mostly yellow with splotches of dark, mottled reddish-brown, stained by age and the blood of countless victims. Otherwise, it did seem rather well crafted, not to the standards of a Divine Blacksmith, but if the weapon were made of metal, itd fit right in on the shelves of an Imperial Armoury.In an unusually chatty mood perhaps due to Rustrams impending doom, Daxian continued, Theres no definitive proof aside from recorded observations, but the Defiled Weapons likely imbue their wielders with enhanced skill, strength, and cunning. Most have barbed spikes on their grips, leading scholars to theorize the weapons require the blood of their wielders to function, though why, no one can definitively say. The prevailing theory is that the Defiled Weapons are more analogous to Spiritual Hearts rather than Spiritual Weapons, an almost living object which changes and grows given time. The barbs are to physically bind the weapon to its wielder, which is why any Defiled can simply pick up the weapon and use it. Fascinating stuff.None of which was of any help to Rustram in his current situation. Yes, fascinating. If not for the massive discrepancy between their strengths, he wouldve told the former Major to shove his spear up his ass and choke on it.Perhaps reading Rustrams lack of action as fear, Pran leaned in and quietly asked, I kill Champion, yes?Hmph. The Khishig helm obscured Wang Baos face from Rustrams view, but he could hear the sneer in the former bandits faked, nasally voice. This wastrel lacks the qualifications to face our second-in-command. Mister Rustram, requesting permission to bring his head back and transfix it to a spike. His articulation and vocabulary were much improved, but underneath the trappings, Wang Bao was still the same cutthroat raider hed always been.Rustram appreciated the sentiment, but he still couldnt quite bring himself to like the man.Twenty moves, Wang Bao continued, hefting his double-bladed battle-axe high. If I cant take his head in twenty moves, then Ill eat my boots. Anyone care to raise the stakes?Twenty? Joining in on the fun, Saluk kissed his spiked maul and declared, Fifteen, but I no bring head. Smush good.Eight, Ulfsaar growled, and the banter came to a halt. Weeks of non-stop battles had taken a mental toll on the fearsome half-bear as he was forced to embrace his darker side amidst all the battle and bloodshed. He spoke little and smiled less despite Neeras best efforts to bring him happiness and good cheer, as if bloodshed was the only thing which could bring him joy. With each passing day, Rustram watched him slip further into his Voracious persona and feared the pious, gentle giant might never return. Him taking part in this wager gave Rustram some hope, but there was precious little besides fury and madness lurking behind Ulfsaars penetrating gaze.Five. Ravils confident declaration silenced the other eager contenders and even Ulfsaar looked taken aback. The dark-skinned killers grin unsettled friend and foe alike as he surveyed the crowd, asking, Any takers?Gratified as Rustram was by their willingness to fight in his place, he couldnt let this continue. Phoenix squad was so named because it held most of the reborn members of the retinue, the worst of the marauders, killers, and blackguards the Boss took in after Sanshu and Ravil. While theyd all come a long way since, much like Wang Bao, they were still bandits at heart and Rustram would lose their respect if he backed down from this challenge.More importantly, if Mentor found out hed shirked a challenge, shed tan his hide with an iron paddle. Early on, he discovered her difficulties walking had no effect on her prodigious arm strength, much to his chagrin.Ravil and Chey didnt lead their quins so much as set them loose on the Enemys back-line. Where Wang Baos cutthroats were wolfish in nature, the enraged roosequins made real wolves look like harmless puppies in comparison. High-pitched squeaks rang out as the roosequins tore into Defiled flesh in coordinated carnage, sounding disturbingly similar to their insistent squeaks of hunger. Rippling muscle shimmered beneath their thick, luxurious fur, wet with gore and viscera as they rent and tore to their animalistic hearts content, their gruesome behaviour wholly at odds with their usually adorable demeanour.No matter how wild and savage the Defiled might be, they were no match for natures brutal fury, and the quin riders were almost unnecessary. They still put up a valiant effort and Chey in particular was well-suited for mounted combat. Crushing limbs and shattering bones with her thick, metal staff, the weapon came alive in her hands as it thrust this way and that, the force of every impact multiplied by a sharp rotation of Cheys wrist at the moment before impact. Rustram had long since identified it as Wolf Form Twisting Snap, but try as he might, he couldnt replicate the technique. Much like Amplification, the timing and precision required was beyond his ability. Rotate too soon and your efforts were wasted, while too late and the attack will have already landed; yet time and time again, Chey landed her powerful drilling thrusts with inhuman perfection.If she could grasp the timing of Amplification and combine it with Twisting Snap, then shed have an attack rivalling the Bosss signature charge in raw power, except Chey could unleash her attack in rapid succession.The wave of roosequins passed through like a storm, and then came the Protectorates turn. Though the longbow was their weapon of choice, the collection of shabby rangers were no slouches in close combat, especially their fearsome leader Sai Chou. Unlike the majority of axe-wielders in the retinue, Sai Chous long-handled axe bore only a single edge, its wedged, rectangular head more wood-cutters tool rather than weapon of war. Regardless, the dishevelled warrior woman used it with expert efficiency, displaying a level of control which surpassed even Dastan. There were no overpowering strikes or reckless swings from Sai Chou, only calculated slashes and measured hacks as she used the bare minimum of strength to maximum effectiveness. Never still even for a moment, her delicate hands moved her axe in tight, flowing circles around her, her defence impenetrable and offence unstoppable. Unlike the perfumed pretenders of Central, Sai Chou revealed herself as a true Expert of the Empire, a hidden dragon who spent her time loitering in the forests of Ping Yao.Fitting for the vice-leader of the Protectorate to be so strong, second only to a half-beast whose fists could displace Mother knows how many tonnes of water.Before Rustram knew it, the last Defiled fell and the Enemy Horde had been slaughtered to a man. While Phoenix and Turtle Squad cleaned up the battlefield, Rustram stood to the side and awaited the final tally, dreading the losses no matter how great or small. Two more days would make sixty continuous days on the front lines without reinforcements, a record thus far unmatched, but it had come at significant cost. Mitsue Hideo and Quyen Dienne were close in overall time spent, but the former had three retinues to rotate through while the latter commanded an entire force of rhino or elephant mounted cavalry, a term which hardly seemed appropriate. While the repeated battles had honed the Bosss retinue into an elite fighting force, a blade too sharp was liable to bend or break.Still... the glory almost made it worth it.Almost.Slick blood covered his face and training armour, too much for a mere handkerchief to ever sop up, but he still gave it his best effort. Not even the Boss bathed while out on patrol, so Rustram would have to wait two more days until they returned to Sinuji. A water-skin thumped into his chest which he caught by reflex. Nodding in appreciation at Sai Chou, he drank a small mouthful and offered it back, mostly just to be polite since he had his own water-skin strapped to his belt. For yer face, she said, lips pressed in a phantom of a smile. We all know how ye like to keep pretty. Ser.Hmph. As if he were the only one who liked to stay clean, not to mention how a little water and grooming would do her wonders, but Rustram was too polite and frightened to say it. Thank you, he said, indicating she should take the water-skin back. But we should conserve water wherever we can. Never know what might happen.Bah. Rolling her eyes in dismissive scorn, Sai Chou collected her gear and spit at her feet, a disgusting habit to be sure. Plenty o water out here on the grasslands, else they wouldnt be grasslands now would they, Ser?The brief pause every time right before she said Ser irritated Rustram to no end, but he remained cordial and polite as usual. You know the standing orders as well as I do. We do this to guard against tainted water supplies, but if youve issue with the orders, then youre free to bring it up with the Boss.Yea... about that. So as not to be overheard, Sai Chou switched to Sending, though Rustram lacked the ability to respond in kind. We been out here a long time. Too long, if ye know what I mean. Gesturing at one of Wang Baos cutthroats who was using a Defiled corpse as a puppet to tell a joke, she added, Yer people and mine are startin to crack. Hell, even the Death Corps dont look too hot, so I figured it be time for a break, one we earned ten times over. Whens the Boss gonna let up?Unsure, Rustram replied, hiding how happy he was to know she shared his concerns. Ill bring it up when I see him.Good, good. Better it come from you, most folk dont take well to a woman barkin orders. Boss dont seem like the type, but you can never be sure. Nodding in appreciation, Sai Chou punched Rustram on his exposed shoulder and grinned, transforming from deadly Expert to cheery young woman. Fancy fightin you did out there, mighty quick work too. Cant rightly claim I couldve done the same in as many moves. Didnt think ye had it in ye, but seems yer not the puffed-up peacock I thought ye were. With that, she strode away, leaving Rustram alone and conflicted.Should he be angry about the insult or happy about the compliment?Putting Sai Chou out of mind, Rustram basked in his moment of glory, for today, he finally felt worthy of his rank and weapon. Though he still had far to go and much to repay, he could hold his head up high as Rustram Albaiev of Shen Huo, second-in-command of Falling Rains retinue, and a Warrior of the Empire.Now, if only he had a lady friend to share his joy with...Chapter Meme
