Chapter 54
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Chapter 54
Standing on the windy plateau, I shiver as I wait for our pursuers to reach me. I have no idea how these assholes keep finding us, but every day, they're right there, on our asses. We fought them off four times in two days already, and here they are again. Today, we're going to find out how. They move fairly quickly through the mountains, albeit on foot, doing the same thing that Mei Lin does, hopping around as if weightless, with short bursts of gliding. Not a single one of our dead pursuers has looked under 30, which tells me that Mei Lin is impressive, to say the least. She won't tell me how it's done, just says that I need to learn one thing at a time, which is true. All I can do is Hone my weapon, which is kind of basic.
My right hand grips my sword familiar and comforting, while a looted saber in my left, with all my other weapons lost or broken. The saber and sword seem to be the most popular weapons used by the Society, none of our assassins carrying shields, spears, or pole-arms, which sucks. I need replacements. It's a steel saber, but it's heavy and not very sharp, a former spiritual weapon, and with its previous owner dead it's now just normal steel. A little worse possibly, since it isn't even pure steel. Holding it by the cross-guard, the dull edge is lined against my arm as a replacement shield. Better than nothing, I guess. Crouching down, I try to cuddle into Zabu for warmth, as he lies on the ground prone, almost flattened, eyes closed in contentment. He loves it up here, stretched out on the rocky cliff side like a rug, chest rumbling with pleasure as I scratch his neck. He's almost adorable like this. If only he didn't smell so bad, I'd use him as a pillow. I have the only quin in the world that hates bathing.
We spotted our pursuers on the way up several hours ago, so here we are, ready to fight. Charok is in charge this time, Alsantset's turn to protect the non-combatants. As the worst shot of the group, I've been chosen for the least favorable job: meat shield. Taking advantage of this single plateau path deeper into the mountains, the others are behind me at different vantage points, bows ready. The open area I'm standing on is a kill zone, with no cover whatsoever. Supposedly, our enemies won't risk running right past me, because fighting while weightless is too difficult and risky. They'll have to kill me while running up the only footpath available, before they can reach the others. It's a decent plan, assuming they ever reach us. These fuckers are so slow, we could be kilometers away by now, but they'd catch us eventually, following us like bloodhounds.
After remembering about the tags used in the contest, we ditched everything from the Society, went through all our bags and gear, even throwing away the case that held the gold and all of Song's clothes, and still they keep finding us somehow. It can't be our scent or regular tracking methods, according to Alsantset, so there has to be some sort of hoodoo that we don't know about.
Song is dressed in some of Sumila's spare leathers, the two of them getting along well, Song feeding Sumila after she was injured, helping her get dressed, even sleeping together at night. Song learned to ride rather quickly in the last few days, and is quite skilled with her saber, and a better shot that I am to boot. She's a great addition to our forces, and I'd rate her skills about on par with Adujan, tied for second place. I'd put myself at fourth, behind Huushal, sadly enough. I beat him in a spar, but he's a monster carrying his long-handled great saber, crashing through the enemies, smashing them into a pulp, a crazed look in his eyes. I wouldn't be able to block even a single strike from him, and the women are even scarier.
They're all proficient killers, while I still look and feel awkward in comparison. Even with her terrible injury from the first night, Sumila is still more useful than I am, often splitting off with Song to lead our pursuers away, or into an ambush. Mei Lin and I managed to patch her up with some stitches and a poultice, putting her arm in a sling, but it was a close thing at the time. Her red jade ring has been helping her heal, supplying her with more chi in a shorter amount of time, and she should be 100% by tomorrow, already healthy enough to pull a bow. I may have underestimated the effectiveness of the rings, but the risks in using it is still very high. She comes out of her meditation exhausted and sweating, rather than relaxed and calm.
I thought we were on better terms for a bit, with our nice cliff side moment, but Sumila is back to being sour faced and frosty, sometimes ignoring me completely when I approach her. It's probably the tension getting to her, none of us are very chipper besides Mei Lin.
Speaking softly under my breath, knowing Charok is listening, I make nervous conversations.I don't think they're coming. I really hope the enhanced hearing is selective. It would suck if they heard my... nightly ritual. It's difficult being in a teenage body. I wish there was a book I could read, like Chi for Dummies.
Worry not, little brother. Charok's voice is clear, like he's standing right next to me. Alsantset always sounds like she's whispering when she does this, and I can't tell if it's because Charok is better at this, or if Alsantset just has more control. They are hesitating, knowing this for a trap, but they have no options but to spring it. Their only other option would be to call for reinforcements, but we can outrun them if they do. He chuckles a bit. Speak, and it shall be so. They are coming, brother. Fight well.
I spot movement below, several warriors wearing robes with straw hats and face coverings approaching, leaping across the mountain from tree to tree, ninja-ing about. It's fairly impressive, but kind of stupid, exposing themselves like that. Foolish city ninjas, no match for mountain ninjas. It doesn't matter how strong you are, an arrow to the heart will kill you all the same. The general consensus about bows is that it's a peasant's weapon, unfit for true warriors. Which is pretty stupid, in my opinion. If a farmer who practices two hours a day with a bow, can kill a martial warrior who practices twelve hours a day with a sword, I feel like the bow should be called the king of weapons. Even if it doesn't kill you, fighting with an arrow stuck in you is difficult, to say the least.
Case in point, tree leaping ninja-assassins die just as easily as farmers do when Charok and the others fire their arrows. Three drop out of the sky, limp and dead, their corpses rolling down the mountain. The others drop down into the trees, running up the thin pass on foot, hoping to avoid further barrages. Others leap around the sides, scaling the rock cliff to get around and surround me. Cracking my neck and limbering my shoulders, I stand ready to block the way. They shall not pass. TeeHee.
My first opponent arrives, Peace ramming into his chest as he leaps up, killing him in mid-air. Two others land beside me, and the fight begins in earnest while I dodge and block as their honed weapons take large chips out of the saber. Arrows fly around me as I fight, a thrust slipping past my defense, stabbing straight through my armor into my shoulder, only stopping at the bone. Peace slashes through the chest of my attacker, while the second tries to chop my head from my shoulders. Zabu pounces on him mid-swing, my furry little bodyguard doing work. The other quins join in, their near suicidal charges taking our opponents off guard, their thick fur and skin difficult to cut or pierce, a pack of natural monsters, screeching and killing with reckless abandon. I'm the bait, and they're the trap, while everyone else provides fire support. It's a little embarrassing to be less useful than the mounts.
The squealer continues to speak,the dam on his silence broken, more information flowing out than we need. The orders are to take the youths alive, as well as the half-tiger. You are all to be made slaves, or examples should you refuse. We have multiple groups, ready at all times. There will be another coming shortly.
What clan or sect are you from?
They are camped close to the base of the mountain, less than 10 kilometers north from here, easily found. Please, that is all I know, just kill me cleanly. Don't let them eat me, I beg of you. My hand pats Zabu on the head, and he snaps at me, angry I may take his food. The man repeats himself, begging not to be devoured. Despite that, he won't say what sect or clan he's from, or even acknowledge that he was sent by the Society, loyal to the end. I actually respect that. At Charok's nod, I kill him with a thrust to the heart, before I turn to the woman.
The woman looks stout and resolute, glaring hatred at her dead companion, face white with terror despite it all. So... anything to add? A second barrage of spit, less this time, fear having dried out her mouth. Her courage is praiseworthy, especially since Kankin is still holding her leg, crouched low to the ground, ready for his meal. I even somewhat admire her calm, but she's still someone who has been hunting us for days now. If she had won here, we would all be dead or worse. A quick thrust ends her life, and I give Kankin the go ahead to eat. I'm not a monster, not yet at least. I got what I needed. I toss Zabu a large round fruit, the thought of him eating human flesh sickening me. He's happier with the fruit anyways, nibbling away happily, crunching and squeaking in delight. Kankin makes the same sounds.
Charok stood aside the entire time, watching the proceedings. I can't bring myself to look him in the eyes, keeping them low to scan the ground for a new weapon. What would you have done if they did not speak? His voice is neutral, but I feel the judgment, know that I've disappointed him.
I don't know. I lie easily, the words coming out without hesitation. How quickly my morals shift when I'm under pressure.
We ride back in somber silence, the victory doing little for the overall mood. Here I thought I was so clever, getting injured to kill my opponents. They were trying to just disable me, for the reward. That takes the wind out of my sails a bit, thinking I was hot shit. Pride cometh before the fall, and that works both ways.
Alsantset's reaction to the news surprises me. Then we are left with no choice but to fight. We rest for a half-hour, then move out once again. She pats Song on the head, the two cat-girls having bonded already. Am I a horrible person, for immediately thinking of ditching her? A few days ago I wanted to save her, but now I'm ready to sacrifice her for a better chance of escape. I left the decision to the others because I thought they would make it for me, saving myself the grief. Fuck. I'm a terrible human being.
Alsantset looks me over, checking my wounds and patting me on the face. Little brother, you punish yourself too much when you fight. You must learn to parry and dodge.
Trying to smirk, I keep my words as light as possible. Oh, is that what I'm supposed to be doing? I've just been jumping into their weapons, stopping them with my flesh and bones. I'll remember your advice sister. Just dodge. She pinches my cheek, a wry smile on her face. The lines around her eyes makes her look older, her endurance flagging. Between the two of them, Charok and Alsantset have been working non-stop since we left the city, acting as both leader and rearguard, but they both still have the time to worry about me.
Taking off the ruins of my armor, I run my fingers across the black glossy exterior of the vest, the helmet lost a day ago. Was it only yesterday? It feels like forever ago, the saber slashing across my head as I stumbled over the uneven footing, saving my life. Forget a daily count of close deaths, I can barely do 8 hours without a close call. Mei Lin helps me with my stitches, leaving nice, neat lines in my skin, chatting at me while I pretend to listen, worrying over the problems at hand. We're out of the unguent that we use for cuts, having run out after just a single day. We took a beating soon after our night ambush, our pursuers arriving quicker than we expected, bogged down with a heavily injured Sumila. Everything is running out except fruit and fresh water, the mountains teeming with both. We haven't risked lighting a fire since, and all the bear and horse meat we had is almost gone. We're even running out of arrows, our pursuers no longer carrying them when it was evident we out-ranged them by a large margin. Why bother just supplying us with ammunition?
Alsantset returns before the half hour is up, hurrying us along, as more enemies have been spotted. We're all exhausted with not enough sleep or food, running on fumes, but the attacks keep coming. I have no idea how we're going to make it through this, and I can barely even stay awake as we ride off, once again slipping into the trees, fleeing from our ever persistent hunters.
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Chapter 54
Standing on the windy plateau, I shiver as I wait for our pursuers to reach me. I have no idea how these assholes keep finding us, but every day, they're right there, on our asses. We fought them off four times in two days already, and here they are again. Today, we're going to find out how. They move fairly quickly through the mountains, albeit on foot, doing the same thing that Mei Lin does, hopping around as if weightless, with short bursts of gliding. Not a single one of our dead pursuers has looked under 30, which tells me that Mei Lin is impressive, to say the least. She won't tell me how it's done, just says that I need to learn one thing at a time, which is true. All I can do is Hone my weapon, which is kind of basic.
My right hand grips my sword familiar and comforting, while a looted saber in my left, with all my other weapons lost or broken. The saber and sword seem to be the most popular weapons used by the Society, none of our assassins carrying shields, spears, or pole-arms, which sucks. I need replacements. It's a steel saber, but it's heavy and not very sharp, a former spiritual weapon, and with its previous owner dead it's now just normal steel. A little worse possibly, since it isn't even pure steel. Holding it by the cross-guard, the dull edge is lined against my arm as a replacement shield. Better than nothing, I guess. Crouching down, I try to cuddle into Zabu for warmth, as he lies on the ground prone, almost flattened, eyes closed in contentment. He loves it up here, stretched out on the rocky cliff side like a rug, chest rumbling with pleasure as I scratch his neck. He's almost adorable like this. If only he didn't smell so bad, I'd use him as a pillow. I have the only quin in the world that hates bathing.
We spotted our pursuers on the way up several hours ago, so here we are, ready to fight. Charok is in charge this time, Alsantset's turn to protect the non-combatants. As the worst shot of the group, I've been chosen for the least favorable job: meat shield. Taking advantage of this single plateau path deeper into the mountains, the others are behind me at different vantage points, bows ready. The open area I'm standing on is a kill zone, with no cover whatsoever. Supposedly, our enemies won't risk running right past me, because fighting while weightless is too difficult and risky. They'll have to kill me while running up the only footpath available, before they can reach the others. It's a decent plan, assuming they ever reach us. These fuckers are so slow, we could be kilometers away by now, but they'd catch us eventually, following us like bloodhounds.
After remembering about the tags used in the contest, we ditched everything from the Society, went through all our bags and gear, even throwing away the case that held the gold and all of Song's clothes, and still they keep finding us somehow. It can't be our scent or regular tracking methods, according to Alsantset, so there has to be some sort of hoodoo that we don't know about.
Song is dressed in some of Sumila's spare leathers, the two of them getting along well, Song feeding Sumila after she was injured, helping her get dressed, even sleeping together at night. Song learned to ride rather quickly in the last few days, and is quite skilled with her saber, and a better shot that I am to boot. She's a great addition to our forces, and I'd rate her skills about on par with Adujan, tied for second place. I'd put myself at fourth, behind Huushal, sadly enough. I beat him in a spar, but he's a monster carrying his long-handled great saber, crashing through the enemies, smashing them into a pulp, a crazed look in his eyes. I wouldn't be able to block even a single strike from him, and the women are even scarier.
They're all proficient killers, while I still look and feel awkward in comparison. Even with her terrible injury from the first night, Sumila is still more useful than I am, often splitting off with Song to lead our pursuers away, or into an ambush. Mei Lin and I managed to patch her up with some stitches and a poultice, putting her arm in a sling, but it was a close thing at the time. Her red jade ring has been helping her heal, supplying her with more chi in a shorter amount of time, and she should be 100% by tomorrow, already healthy enough to pull a bow. I may have underestimated the effectiveness of the rings, but the risks in using it is still very high. She comes out of her meditation exhausted and sweating, rather than relaxed and calm.
I thought we were on better terms for a bit, with our nice cliff side moment, but Sumila is back to being sour faced and frosty, sometimes ignoring me completely when I approach her. It's probably the tension getting to her, none of us are very chipper besides Mei Lin.
Speaking softly under my breath, knowing Charok is listening, I make nervous conversations.I don't think they're coming. I really hope the enhanced hearing is selective. It would suck if they heard my... nightly ritual. It's difficult being in a teenage body. I wish there was a book I could read, like Chi for Dummies.
Worry not, little brother. Charok's voice is clear, like he's standing right next to me. Alsantset always sounds like she's whispering when she does this, and I can't tell if it's because Charok is better at this, or if Alsantset just has more control. They are hesitating, knowing this for a trap, but they have no options but to spring it. Their only other option would be to call for reinforcements, but we can outrun them if they do. He chuckles a bit. Speak, and it shall be so. They are coming, brother. Fight well.
I spot movement below, several warriors wearing robes with straw hats and face coverings approaching, leaping across the mountain from tree to tree, ninja-ing about. It's fairly impressive, but kind of stupid, exposing themselves like that. Foolish city ninjas, no match for mountain ninjas. It doesn't matter how strong you are, an arrow to the heart will kill you all the same. The general consensus about bows is that it's a peasant's weapon, unfit for true warriors. Which is pretty stupid, in my opinion. If a farmer who practices two hours a day with a bow, can kill a martial warrior who practices twelve hours a day with a sword, I feel like the bow should be called the king of weapons. Even if it doesn't kill you, fighting with an arrow stuck in you is difficult, to say the least.
Case in point, tree leaping ninja-assassins die just as easily as farmers do when Charok and the others fire their arrows. Three drop out of the sky, limp and dead, their corpses rolling down the mountain. The others drop down into the trees, running up the thin pass on foot, hoping to avoid further barrages. Others leap around the sides, scaling the rock cliff to get around and surround me. Cracking my neck and limbering my shoulders, I stand ready to block the way. They shall not pass. TeeHee.
My first opponent arrives, Peace ramming into his chest as he leaps up, killing him in mid-air. Two others land beside me, and the fight begins in earnest while I dodge and block as their honed weapons take large chips out of the saber. Arrows fly around me as I fight, a thrust slipping past my defense, stabbing straight through my armor into my shoulder, only stopping at the bone. Peace slashes through the chest of my attacker, while the second tries to chop my head from my shoulders. Zabu pounces on him mid-swing, my furry little bodyguard doing work. The other quins join in, their near suicidal charges taking our opponents off guard, their thick fur and skin difficult to cut or pierce, a pack of natural monsters, screeching and killing with reckless abandon. I'm the bait, and they're the trap, while everyone else provides fire support. It's a little embarrassing to be less useful than the mounts.
The squealer continues to speak,the dam on his silence broken, more information flowing out than we need. The orders are to take the youths alive, as well as the half-tiger. You are all to be made slaves, or examples should you refuse. We have multiple groups, ready at all times. There will be another coming shortly.
What clan or sect are you from?
They are camped close to the base of the mountain, less than 10 kilometers north from here, easily found. Please, that is all I know, just kill me cleanly. Don't let them eat me, I beg of you. My hand pats Zabu on the head, and he snaps at me, angry I may take his food. The man repeats himself, begging not to be devoured. Despite that, he won't say what sect or clan he's from, or even acknowledge that he was sent by the Society, loyal to the end. I actually respect that. At Charok's nod, I kill him with a thrust to the heart, before I turn to the woman.
The woman looks stout and resolute, glaring hatred at her dead companion, face white with terror despite it all. So... anything to add? A second barrage of spit, less this time, fear having dried out her mouth. Her courage is praiseworthy, especially since Kankin is still holding her leg, crouched low to the ground, ready for his meal. I even somewhat admire her calm, but she's still someone who has been hunting us for days now. If she had won here, we would all be dead or worse. A quick thrust ends her life, and I give Kankin the go ahead to eat. I'm not a monster, not yet at least. I got what I needed. I toss Zabu a large round fruit, the thought of him eating human flesh sickening me. He's happier with the fruit anyways, nibbling away happily, crunching and squeaking in delight. Kankin makes the same sounds.
Charok stood aside the entire time, watching the proceedings. I can't bring myself to look him in the eyes, keeping them low to scan the ground for a new weapon. What would you have done if they did not speak? His voice is neutral, but I feel the judgment, know that I've disappointed him.
I don't know. I lie easily, the words coming out without hesitation. How quickly my morals shift when I'm under pressure.
We ride back in somber silence, the victory doing little for the overall mood. Here I thought I was so clever, getting injured to kill my opponents. They were trying to just disable me, for the reward. That takes the wind out of my sails a bit, thinking I was hot shit. Pride cometh before the fall, and that works both ways.
Alsantset's reaction to the news surprises me. Then we are left with no choice but to fight. We rest for a half-hour, then move out once again. She pats Song on the head, the two cat-girls having bonded already. Am I a horrible person, for immediately thinking of ditching her? A few days ago I wanted to save her, but now I'm ready to sacrifice her for a better chance of escape. I left the decision to the others because I thought they would make it for me, saving myself the grief. Fuck. I'm a terrible human being.
Alsantset looks me over, checking my wounds and patting me on the face. Little brother, you punish yourself too much when you fight. You must learn to parry and dodge.
Trying to smirk, I keep my words as light as possible. Oh, is that what I'm supposed to be doing? I've just been jumping into their weapons, stopping them with my flesh and bones. I'll remember your advice sister. Just dodge. She pinches my cheek, a wry smile on her face. The lines around her eyes makes her look older, her endurance flagging. Between the two of them, Charok and Alsantset have been working non-stop since we left the city, acting as both leader and rearguard, but they both still have the time to worry about me.
Taking off the ruins of my armor, I run my fingers across the black glossy exterior of the vest, the helmet lost a day ago. Was it only yesterday? It feels like forever ago, the saber slashing across my head as I stumbled over the uneven footing, saving my life. Forget a daily count of close deaths, I can barely do 8 hours without a close call. Mei Lin helps me with my stitches, leaving nice, neat lines in my skin, chatting at me while I pretend to listen, worrying over the problems at hand. We're out of the unguent that we use for cuts, having run out after just a single day. We took a beating soon after our night ambush, our pursuers arriving quicker than we expected, bogged down with a heavily injured Sumila. Everything is running out except fruit and fresh water, the mountains teeming with both. We haven't risked lighting a fire since, and all the bear and horse meat we had is almost gone. We're even running out of arrows, our pursuers no longer carrying them when it was evident we out-ranged them by a large margin. Why bother just supplying us with ammunition?
Alsantset returns before the half hour is up, hurrying us along, as more enemies have been spotted. We're all exhausted with not enough sleep or food, running on fumes, but the attacks keep coming. I have no idea how we're going to make it through this, and I can barely even stay awake as we ride off, once again slipping into the trees, fleeing from our ever persistent hunters.
Chapter 54Standing on the windy plateau, I shiver as I wait for our pursuers to reach me. I have no idea how these assholes keep finding us, but every day, they're right there, on our asses. We fought them off four times in two days already, and here they are again. Today, we're going to find out how. They move fairly quickly through the mountains, albeit on foot, doing the same thing that Mei Lin does, hopping around as if weightless, with short bursts of gliding. Not a single one of our dead pursuers has looked under 30, which tells me that Mei Lin is impressive, to say the least. She won't tell me how it's done, just says that I need to learn one thing at a time, which is true. All I can do is Hone my weapon, which is kind of basic.My right hand grips my sword familiar and comforting, while a looted saber in my left, with all my other weapons lost or broken. The saber and sword seem to be the most popular weapons used by the Society, none of our assassins carrying shields, spears, or pole-arms, which sucks. I need replacements. It's a steel saber, but it's heavy and not very sharp, a former spiritual weapon, and with its previous owner dead it's now just normal steel. A little worse possibly, since it isn't even pure steel. Holding it by the cross-guard, the dull edge is lined against my arm as a replacement shield. Better than nothing, I guess. Crouching down, I try to cuddle into Zabu for warmth, as he lies on the ground prone, almost flattened, eyes closed in contentment. He loves it up here, stretched out on the rocky cliff side like a rug, chest rumbling with pleasure as I scratch his neck. He's almost adorable like this. If only he didn't smell so bad, I'd use him as a pillow. I have the only quin in the world that hates bathing.We spotted our pursuers on the way up several hours ago, so here we are, ready to fight. Charok is in charge this time, Alsantset's turn to protect the non-combatants. As the worst shot of the group, I've been chosen for the least favorable job: meat shield. Taking advantage of this single plateau path deeper into the mountains, the others are behind me at different vantage points, bows ready. The open area I'm standing on is a kill zone, with no cover whatsoever. Supposedly, our enemies won't risk running right past me, because fighting while weightless is too difficult and risky. They'll have to kill me while running up the only footpath available, before they can reach the others. It's a decent plan, assuming they ever reach us. These fuckers are so slow, we could be kilometers away by now, but they'd catch us eventually, following us like bloodhounds.After remembering about the tags used in the contest, we ditched everything from the Society, went through all our bags and gear, even throwing away the case that held the gold and all of Song's clothes, and still they keep finding us somehow. It can't be our scent or regular tracking methods, according to Alsantset, so there has to be some sort of hoodoo that we don't know about.Song is dressed in some of Sumila's spare leathers, the two of them getting along well, Song feeding Sumila after she was injured, helping her get dressed, even sleeping together at night. Song learned to ride rather quickly in the last few days, and is quite skilled with her saber, and a better shot that I am to boot. She's a great addition to our forces, and I'd rate her skills about on par with Adujan, tied for second place. I'd put myself at fourth, behind Huushal, sadly enough. I beat him in a spar, but he's a monster carrying his long-handled great saber, crashing through the enemies, smashing them into a pulp, a crazed look in his eyes. I wouldn't be able to block even a single strike from him, and the women are even scarier.They're all proficient killers, while I still look and feel awkward in comparison. Even with her terrible injury from the first night, Sumila is still more useful than I am, often splitting off with Song to lead our pursuers away, or into an ambush. Mei Lin and I managed to patch her up with some stitches and a poultice, putting her arm in a sling, but it was a close thing at the time. Her red jade ring has been helping her heal, supplying her with more chi in a shorter amount of time, and she should be 100% by tomorrow, already healthy enough to pull a bow. I may have underestimated the effectiveness of the rings, but the risks in using it is still very high. She comes out of her meditation exhausted and sweating, rather than relaxed and calm.I thought we were on better terms for a bit, with our nice cliff side moment, but Sumila is back to being sour faced and frosty, sometimes ignoring me completely when I approach her. It's probably the tension getting to her, none of us are very chipper besides Mei Lin.Speaking softly under my breath, knowing Charok is listening, I make nervous conversations.I don't think they're coming. I really hope the enhanced hearing is selective. It would suck if they heard my... nightly ritual. It's difficult being in a teenage body. I wish there was a book I could read, like Chi for Dummies.Worry not, little brother. Charok's voice is clear, like he's standing right next to me. Alsantset always sounds like she's whispering when she does this, and I can't tell if it's because Charok is better at this, or if Alsantset just has more control. They are hesitating, knowing this for a trap, but they have no options but to spring it. Their only other option would be to call for reinforcements, but we can outrun them if they do. He chuckles a bit. Speak, and it shall be so. They are coming, brother. Fight well.I spot movement below, several warriors wearing robes with straw hats and face coverings approaching, leaping across the mountain from tree to tree, ninja-ing about. It's fairly impressive, but kind of stupid, exposing themselves like that. Foolish city ninjas, no match for mountain ninjas. It doesn't matter how strong you are, an arrow to the heart will kill you all the same. The general consensus about bows is that it's a peasant's weapon, unfit for true warriors. Which is pretty stupid, in my opinion. If a farmer who practices two hours a day with a bow, can kill a martial warrior who practices twelve hours a day with a sword, I feel like the bow should be called the king of weapons. Even if it doesn't kill you, fighting with an arrow stuck in you is difficult, to say the least.Case in point, tree leaping ninja-assassins die just as easily as farmers do when Charok and the others fire their arrows. Three drop out of the sky, limp and dead, their corpses rolling down the mountain. The others drop down into the trees, running up the thin pass on foot, hoping to avoid further barrages. Others leap around the sides, scaling the rock cliff to get around and surround me. Cracking my neck and limbering my shoulders, I stand ready to block the way. They shall not pass. TeeHee.My first opponent arrives, Peace ramming into his chest as he leaps up, killing him in mid-air. Two others land beside me, and the fight begins in earnest while I dodge and block as their honed weapons take large chips out of the saber. Arrows fly around me as I fight, a thrust slipping past my defense, stabbing straight through my armor into my shoulder, only stopping at the bone. Peace slashes through the chest of my attacker, while the second tries to chop my head from my shoulders. Zabu pounces on him mid-swing, my furry little bodyguard doing work. The other quins join in, their near suicidal charges taking our opponents off guard, their thick fur and skin difficult to cut or pierce, a pack of natural monsters, screeching and killing with reckless abandon. I'm the bait, and they're the trap, while everyone else provides fire support. It's a little embarrassing to be less useful than the mounts.The squealer continues to speak,the dam on his silence broken, more information flowing out than we need. The orders are to take the youths alive, as well as the half-tiger. You are all to be made slaves, or examples should you refuse. We have multiple groups, ready at all times. There will be another coming shortly.What clan or sect are you from?They are camped close to the base of the mountain, less than 10 kilometers north from here, easily found. Please, that is all I know, just kill me cleanly. Don't let them eat me, I beg of you. My hand pats Zabu on the head, and he snaps at me, angry I may take his food. The man repeats himself, begging not to be devoured. Despite that, he won't say what sect or clan he's from, or even acknowledge that he was sent by the Society, loyal to the end. I actually respect that. At Charok's nod, I kill him with a thrust to the heart, before I turn to the woman.The woman looks stout and resolute, glaring hatred at her dead companion, face white with terror despite it all. So... anything to add? A second barrage of spit, less this time, fear having dried out her mouth. Her courage is praiseworthy, especially since Kankin is still holding her leg, crouched low to the ground, ready for his meal. I even somewhat admire her calm, but she's still someone who has been hunting us for days now. If she had won here, we would all be dead or worse. A quick thrust ends her life, and I give Kankin the go ahead to eat. I'm not a monster, not yet at least. I got what I needed. I toss Zabu a large round fruit, the thought of him eating human flesh sickening me. He's happier with the fruit anyways, nibbling away happily, crunching and squeaking in delight. Kankin makes the same sounds.Charok stood aside the entire time, watching the proceedings. I can't bring myself to look him in the eyes, keeping them low to scan the ground for a new weapon. What would you have done if they did not speak? His voice is neutral, but I feel the judgment, know that I've disappointed him.I don't know. I lie easily, the words coming out without hesitation. How quickly my morals shift when I'm under pressure.We ride back in somber silence, the victory doing little for the overall mood. Here I thought I was so clever, getting injured to kill my opponents. They were trying to just disable me, for the reward. That takes the wind out of my sails a bit, thinking I was hot shit. Pride cometh before the fall, and that works both ways.Alsantset's reaction to the news surprises me. Then we are left with no choice but to fight. We rest for a half-hour, then move out once again. She pats Song on the head, the two cat-girls having bonded already. Am I a horrible person, for immediately thinking of ditching her? A few days ago I wanted to save her, but now I'm ready to sacrifice her for a better chance of escape. I left the decision to the others because I thought they would make it for me, saving myself the grief. Fuck. I'm a terrible human being.Alsantset looks me over, checking my wounds and patting me on the face. Little brother, you punish yourself too much when you fight. You must learn to parry and dodge.Trying to smirk, I keep my words as light as possible. Oh, is that what I'm supposed to be doing? I've just been jumping into their weapons, stopping them with my flesh and bones. I'll remember your advice sister. Just dodge. She pinches my cheek, a wry smile on her face. The lines around her eyes makes her look older, her endurance flagging. Between the two of them, Charok and Alsantset have been working non-stop since we left the city, acting as both leader and rearguard, but they both still have the time to worry about me.Taking off the ruins of my armor, I run my fingers across the black glossy exterior of the vest, the helmet lost a day ago. Was it only yesterday? It feels like forever ago, the saber slashing across my head as I stumbled over the uneven footing, saving my life. Forget a daily count of close deaths, I can barely do 8 hours without a close call. Mei Lin helps me with my stitches, leaving nice, neat lines in my skin, chatting at me while I pretend to listen, worrying over the problems at hand. We're out of the unguent that we use for cuts, having run out after just a single day. We took a beating soon after our night ambush, our pursuers arriving quicker than we expected, bogged down with a heavily injured Sumila. Everything is running out except fruit and fresh water, the mountains teeming with both. We haven't risked lighting a fire since, and all the bear and horse meat we had is almost gone. We're even running out of arrows, our pursuers no longer carrying them when it was evident we out-ranged them by a large margin. Why bother just supplying us with ammunition?Alsantset returns before the half hour is up, hurrying us along, as more enemies have been spotted. We're all exhausted with not enough sleep or food, running on fumes, but the attacks keep coming. I have no idea how we're going to make it through this, and I can barely even stay awake as we ride off, once again slipping into the trees, fleeing from our ever persistent hunters.
