It’s amazing how quickly structures can be built without machinery to speed things along or silliness like bureaucracy and human rights to slow them down.

In the four months since Sinuji’s destruction, Colonel Hongji has been hard at work turning the area into a deathtrap for Defiled. Though not comparable to the miracle of engineering and logistics which is to become the new Western Wall, the transformation is still mind boggling to behold and it all started with my off-hand advice given on my first day here. The rubble of Sinuji has been cleared away and repurposed into a cobblestone walkway, and while I’d hardly call it elegant or even complete, it’s serviceable enough for my chariots and supply wagons to roll over without cracking an axle or getting stuck in a rut. Five kilometres from north to south and a hundred and fifty metres across, the walkway’s main purpose isn’t for travel or transportation. Instead, it serves as firebreak, deterrence to Wraiths or other sneaky bastards hoping to slip by, and an open killing ground where we slaughter all Defiled who dare approach.

To this end, an impressive array of earthwork fortifications stands behind the walkway, ones designed to funnel the Enemy into multiple choke-points where Imperial soldiers hold the advantage. Again, they’re nothing fancy, mostly dirt walls and deep trenches, but completely serviceable and a huge upgrade to fighting the Defiled man to man on open ground. Constructed using a technique Dastan calls hangtu or ‘rammed earth’, the compressed dirt walls are durable as stone and almost as smooth thanks to an outer layer of clay which keeps the whole thing from turning to mud in the rain. While a determined attacker could probably break through a meter thick section in a matter of minutes, the walls only stand about three-and-a-half meters high and most are under a hundred meters long, which means the Defiled who aren’t smart enough to run around the walls usually try to jump over, where Imperial soldiers stand ready to greet them with steel and fire.

Though it makes me giggle to say, holding the high ground is a significant advantage in battle. For starters, it’s much easier to hit an opponent's head when it’s literally at your feet, and also less tiring when you’ve got gravity working on your side. Battlements on the rammed earth walls protect the Imperial soldier, a raised lip they stand behind and lean over to stab, crush, or otherwise kill their Defiled opponents. Even the strongest warrior in the world is vulnerable while jumping over a three metre obstacle, and considering the Defiled aren’t big on constructing even basic siege equipment like ramps or ladders, then I’d wager the wall will hold until garo or other such mounted warriors make an appearance.

Not an event I look forward to. Apparently, the Western Defiled ride things called gajashia, which were eloquently described as carnivorous, sharp-tusked, elephant-faced armoured lions of nightmares. The Southern Defiled have bhietkura, giant, hammer-headed dinosaurs with talons long as a man’s arm. Strange how even the most docile animals from the Azure Empire will snap at Defiled, but outside, the wildlife have adapted to accept the murder-happy humans. Then again, like GangShu said, are Imperials and Defiled really all that different when seen through the eyes of an animal?

I’m just glad there will always be ugly or angry animals which I can eat guilt free. Like geese, the feathery embodiment of hatred and loathing...

Fort Sinuji’s temporary nature only adds to how extraordinary its speedy construction was, though I use the term ‘fort’ lightly. It’s less of a building or enclosed area and more like a labyrinth of rectangular blocks, walls, and giant fucking trenches, all built so you’re forced to zigzag through the fortifications to get to the other side or spend a day exposed in dangerous territory looking for a way around. Once past the first line of fortifications, you find yourself trapped inside a veritable maze with steel pikes and polearms thrusting down from above, Imperial soldiers lurking around every corner, shifting exits, hidden pitfalls, reinforced dead-ends, and barricaded choke-points to spice things up. Granted, the whole place will probably crumble to pieces the moment an organized Defiled army appears on the horizon, but until such a time as the Enemy gets their shit together, Sinuji’s defences will be the bane of wandering warbands of Defiled.

One strange thing to note is that since building these fortifications and flying flags which can been seen from kilometres away, Sinuji has encountered more Defiled attacks, not less, and it’s supposedly the same with the similar structures all across the front lines. Whereas my first instinct would be to go around an entrenched enemy, the Defiled see well-fortified positions the same way lemmings see cliffs, preferring to run headlong at them and die instead of finding a safer way around. Not to say there’s no more fighting on the open fields, and some warbands still have enough sense to bypass Fort Sinuji, but the end result is more or less the same. Since heavy cavalry don’t have much of a place in sieges, Colonel Hongji and the other commanders along the front lines have organized patrols between them, which means most Defiled who try to sneak past meet their end at the tip of a steel lance. Loose infantry don’t do well against heavy cavalry, and even less so when presented with an organized charge from multiple directions. Should any Defiled be lucky enough to escape the front lines intact, there is still a second line of defences behind us waiting to greet them, not to mention the heavily patrolled border where the new Western Wall is being constructed.

All in all, after four months of fighting, there have been exactly zero confirmed Defiled to successfully cross the border into Central, which is the only good news I can think of while riding through Sinuji’s winding defences to report to Colonel Hongji. From atop the battlements, Imperial soldiers stare at my escort of quin riders and Death Corps in undisguised curiosity, wondering what could’ve prompted the Number One Talent in the Empire to return from patrol early. Two and a half days early, in fact, since we booked it back to the front lines as soon as Tenjin was stable enough to travel. This marks the first time I’ve returned in defeat, an event made all the more significant considering how well my first deployment went. While resting in SuiHua, there were tales of defeat and despair a plenty on everyone’s ears and tongues as the returning soldiers brought news of growing Defiled aggression, but more than once I heard my supporters boasting about how my retinue would handle it with ease.

It’s funny how I never cared for public opinion until it turned in my favour. I can shrug off hatred, disgust, and hostility without breaking stride, but disappointment hits me like a kick in the balls.

About a quarter way through the maze, a voice sounds from atop the battlements. “See how the savage scurries back after an ignoble defeat. Truly a disgrace to the Empire.” Shielding my eyes from the afternoon sun, I glance up and see a typical arrogant noble popinjay standing on the battlements with his nose pointed towards the sky, mocking without deigning to even look in my general direction. Head high, shoulders square, chest out, and back arched, the nondescript young man carries himself with the standard pretentious posture of someone born into nobility, a milk-skinned brat who’s probably never had to pour his own tea, much less fight for his life. His verdant silk robes flutter in the wind as he stands there with his lightly powdered face and nary a hair out of place, thanks to a pair of soldiers holding up a canopy to provide him with shade while a third soldier guards against the heat using a massively oversized fan.

I don’t even know him and I already don’t like him. I bet he even positioned himself there so the sun shines in my eyes while we talk, a literal play for power because standing on top of a wall wasn’t enough. There’s probably a bunch of other stuff I haven’t noticed too, as nobles and their ilk love their little games of clever insults and calculated contempt, which I don’t really get. From what I understand, hurling expletives and outright slander is vulgar and low brow, but a harmless remark which might be interpreted as offensive is the height of sophistication.

Take his comment for example. Were I to rise to the bait, he would simply laugh and claim it a part of a poem he was composing or the title for a painting or song. Worse, by taking offence at his seemingly innocuous statement, I not only lose face for being ‘overly sensitive’, but it also shows I equate myself with a ‘scurrying savage’ and accept the criticism as true. Nobles sometimes have hours of dinner conversation where every line is laced with insults and disrespect, but the first one to lose their temper or leave is considered defeated, a bunch of high-brow nonsense I have no patience for.

Unfortunately for the popinjay, no one told him I don’t play by their rules and his sky-turned gaze fails to notice I don’t stop to chat. I’m a good distance away before someone thinks to inform their cloud-gazing young master I’ve ridden away, though I’m still close enough to hear him screech, “You dare ignore me?”, along with the other customary questions and statements that follow. Even his tantrums sound rehearsed and commonplace, hitting all the regular notes like ‘Do you know who I am?’, ‘Are you deaf?’, and my favourite, ‘I did not give you permission to leave!’.

His incredulous statements soon turns to meaningless babble, ranting about how I must think myself clever and how things will soon change. I have no idea what he’s going on about, so I continue riding on my merry way, moving at a nice, moderate quin walk. Sadly, the popinjay isn’t very good at the game of subtle insults and has a poor temper to boot, for just as I’m riding out of earshot, I hear him yell, “Falling Rain, you coward! Come back and face me!”

Now, I’m a pretty laid back guy, but it burns my blood to see a little shit like him living in pampered luxury while so many soldiers die to keep him safe, not to mention his oh-so-punchable face. In accordance with his poorly thought out demand, I turn Zabu around and ride back, moving from an easy walk into a full-out charge without even a whisper of warning. On my instructions, the agile quin pounces onto the battlements with a single leap, his lashing tail and snapping jaws sending soldiers into a panic as he clears a path to the popinjay. A quartet of loyal bodyguards stick close to the popinjay’s side, who along with the three serving soldiers make for a pitiful seven-man barrier between Zabu and the popinjay, especially with Orgaal, Argat, and four other Khishigs at my back. Tilting the odds further in my favour, Red One arrives with eleven Death Corps soldiers only a handful of seconds later, working in concert to scale the wall in their heavy armour as easily as climbing a set of stairs.

With my people surrounding him and his back to the battlements, the snobby little popinjay looks properly regretful, though it could be because of his white-powdered face, not quite as heavy as Central likes it, but done in similar, if not more tasteful, fashion. Previously, I wasn’t able to see the writing on his portable canopy, but now that I’m up here, I notice it bears the ‘Situ’ character, alongside the twin characters for ‘Heaven’ and ‘Earth’, which means this is one of Zian’s many, many, many cousins. Changing tack, I wait until the little bastard finds the courage to speak, then speak right over him. “What,” I say, deriving immense satisfaction from seeing the popinjay’s mouth snap shut, “Is the penalty for slandering an Imperial Scion?”

I refuse to use my title, but it has its uses.

“Replying to Imperial Consort,” Red One answers, ruining the moment by stating my hated title outright. “The answer depends on the severity of the crime, with the maximum penalty being execution. The Emperor does not look kindly on outsiders defaming the Imperial Clan.”

The Situ idiot’s eyes widen in terror as I pretend to consider it, even though I’d never order him executed over an insult. Fairly certain I couldn’t even if I wanted to, what with being an Imperial Consort and not an Imperial Scion, but Red One knows how to play the game better than I do. He merely answered my question and framed it in a way which implied I am an Imperial Scion, without outright claiming it. After a long pause, I shake my head and reply, “No, no execution. Were we in private, I would overlook words spoken by a child in anger, but there are too many witnesses present. What is the minimum penalty?”

“For a first infraction, ten strokes of the lash and impermanent removal of the offender’s tongue.”

...Harsher than I expected, but maybe the little brat will learn to keep his mouth shut after he regrows his tongue. Trying to look as bored as possible, I gesture at the popinjay and say, “You may order your men to carry out the punishment forthwith.” While it seems like I’m being merciful, truth is, I’m not entirely sure I have enough clout to order him punished without repercussion, so it’s best if he does it himself. “If you refuse, then I must take matters into my own hands.” 100% true. I’d have to go find a Justicar and plead my case, which will probably end with me challenging the Situ Clan to another duel or something. Hard pass.

Not sticking around to see things through, I ride Zabu down the other side of the wall, more than making up for time lost thanks to our detour. Wishing I could just go straight to the command centre, I keep to the pathway for the rest of the trek, which goes by without incident until I’m face to face with Colonel Hongji inside his personal tent. Normally, the friendly Colonel would offer tea and snacks during these private meetings, but today, he greets me with back turned and leaves me standing alone while pretending to pore over his reports. I say pretend because it’s silly to stand when you could sit at your desk, stupid to leave your back to the tent’s entrance, and suicidal not to turn around to make sure the intruder is friendly, but after a few seconds of thought, I conclude that his actions are another calculated insult. Why, I don’t know, but it sucks because I was looking forward to a hot cup of tea. It doesn’t seem like much until one considers the restrictions on fire in camp, meaning no fires allowed aside from a few specific exclusions. Due to my rank, I’m allowed a small fire for personal use and most officers quietly shirk the restrictions regardless, but having chosen to lead by example, I’ve eschewed the minor luxuries in the name of solidarity. Stupid mistake. Like anyone cares if I give up hot tea, toasted biscuits, and warm stew.

Can’t even heat a hot bath in my swanky stone bathtub without feeling guilty. It’s the worst...

Regardless of whether I made the right choice, I’m stuck with it and too stubborn to give up, but there’s nothing that says I can’t accept Hongji’s hospitality. A moot point, considering said hospitality appears to have withered away and died in light of my recent failure, which just goes to show how precarious my current situation is. As Number One Talent in the Empire, there are countless rivals just waiting to topple me from my lofty position, which is why I can’t wait for Mila to condense her Aura and form her Natal Palace so she can stomp on my spine and wrench the title from my bloodied, broken, fingers.

I’d happily forfeit and spare myself the suffering, but knowing Mila, she means to earn the title herself and will be furious if I don’t fight to keep it. The things I do for love...

After long minutes of cold silence, a soldier strides in without a word and places a small wooden jewellery box on Hongji’s desk. Leaving as quietly as he arrived, the good Colonel waits until the soldier marches out before finally turning around. Though still wearing more than most women, Hongji’s makeup is more subtle and understated, lacking the vibrant reds and sombre blacks so many in Central overuse and giving a pale, pinkish cast to his skin which almost looks natural. His stylized eyebrows angle upward and makes his expression look permanently angry or surprised, but his broad forehead, strong jawline, and piercing glare keeps the effect from becoming comical. It’s hard to take Central’s warriors seriously when they show up in full face paint, but wearing his official Commander’s gown with the Imperial Token tucked into the belt, Hongji makes his peers look like kittens beside a tiger.

Moving aside, he gestures curtly at the box on his desk. Inwardly shrugging, I head over and flip it open to reveal a severed tongue, still fresh and wet with blood. Suppressing the urge to recoil away, I glance at Hongji and raise an eyebrow in question. Does the gesture translate? I can’t imagine it being easy to pull off when your eyebrows are waxed in place. Luckily, he understands, but he only utters a single word in reply. “Gulong.”

Ancient Dragon? That can’t be right. “...Who or what is a Gulong?”

Hongji’s impassive facade cracks ever so slightly to reveal his surprise, but he recovers soon after. “Do not pretend, young officer. Deception will make you no friends here.” After a long silence in which I flounder for what to say, he furrows his brow and says, “Situ Gulong.”

Oh... So that’s what his name was. I probably should’ve figured things out through context, but names are weird. “Ah.”

“Who commands here, officer?”

Uh oh. He seems mad. Snapping off a military salute, I model my answer after what I think Red One would say. “Replying to Colonel, you do. Err... that is to say you, Colonel Hongji, is who holds command here. Whom holds command? Sir.”

Covering his mouth to cough, Hongji recovers and says, “So you did know. Which means these soldiers gathered here are mine to command, and mine to punish.” Giving me his best glare, Hongji jabs me in the chest with a steel finger. “So what gives you the right to punish my soldiers?”

“Replying to Colonel, I would not dare.” ‘I’, not ‘this one’, since the Legate’s panties would twist in a bunch if I dared lower myself as such, and not ‘Imperial Consort’ to show I’m not treating this as a formal matter. Or at least, that’s my intention and how he should read it. I’m getting the hang of this politics thing, but it’s still hit or miss most of the time.

“You don’t dare? Hmph.” Gesturing at the bloody box, he roars, “Then explain this!” Happy to share how clever I’ve become, I keep a straight face while summarizing my encounter with Gulong. Quickly catching on, Hongji asks me to repeat our exchange word for word. Despite knowing I’m in the clear, he confirms that I’d be willing to swear an Oath to back my statements, though falls short of asking for one, and only then does he sigh in relief. Slumping into his armchair, he gestures for me to sit and dabs his brow while bellowing orders for someone to bring tea, utterly ruining his calm and stoic ‘Tiger General’ appearance from earlier.

I don’t understand why he’s so stressed about one measly Situ brat losing a replaceable tongue but I know better than to ask. Flipping the tongue box closed, I hand him my reports before explaining my findings over hot tea and fresh pastries. “...so on the advice from my remaining Experts, I request permission to delay until replacements arrive before going back out on patrol.” Abjiya and Jigari are great Healers, but they’re not even close to Taduk’s level, so they’ll be taking Jochi and Tenjin along with the other injured back to SuiHua as soon as Hongji issues the proper papers.

“An Awakened Demon so strong even your Experts could not kill it... Most unsettling.” Shaking his head while writing out the travel passes, he adds, “Fortunately, you escaped without incurring significant losses. I fear the plains west of Sinuji are littered with corpses of those who cannot say the same. Too many Demons being born these days, at least one a day so I hear.” Feeling guilty for not telling him about GangShu’s intervention, I keep my mouth shut and nod along. The sexy rat daddy was adamant I leave his part out of the official reports, because he reports to whichever poor bastard the Emperor hated enough to put in charge of Divinities.

After settling where my retinue will camp and where I fit in the command structure, Hongji hands me the freshly stamped passes and Sends, “Tread carefully, young hero. The Society of Heaven and Earth has friends in high places. The matter with Situ Ji Jing should have been plain and simple, for he built himself a grand funeral pyre and climbed inside, but rather than setting it alight as he should have, the Justicar ordered Ji Jing lashed and dishonourably discharged. Seven hundred soldiers left to die and the boy walks away with a light beating, an affront to career soldiers across the Empire, but my hands are tied. Now this matter with Gulong... Might I suggest you request permission to pay your family a visit? Or perhaps an audience with your benefactor, though if you do, I caution you to temper your expectations.”

It takes a second to remember who Ji Jing is and what Hongji is talking about, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out why he’s telling me about Ji Yeon’s brother. I certainly had nothing to do with it, though I can see why Hongji isn’t happy about how things went down, but why should I run away to Baatar and Akanai or ask the Legate for help with Gulong? Misreading my confusion as disbelief, Hongji Sends, “Remember, the Justicars dispense justice, but it is the Emperor who decides what is just.” I doubt he means the Emperor is backing the Situ Clan, but I suppose someone Imperial might be. Nodding despite not entirely understanding, I thank him for his hospitality and turn to leave, but Hongji isn’t done. Clapping me on the shoulder, he personally sees me out of the tent, which is a big deal according to Luo-Luo, and Sends, “I offer you my full support, but I fear if you are ever in a position to require it, then we are already doomed.”

Well, that’s not ominous or anything.

Still, I like Hongji. A soldier through and through, he does right by the people under his command, even if he doesn’t like them. If I had laid a finger on Gulong, the good Colonel would have had me lashed or whatever the punishment is, not because he’s afraid of the Society or whoever backs them, but because it would’ve been the right thing to do. The Empire needs more no nonsense soldiers like Hongji and I’m proud to serve beneath him.

Oh, I remember Gulong now! I punched him unconscious before interrogating Ji Yeon during the Society’s Contests. I wasn’t great at it back then, so he lost a lot of teeth before passing out.

...

Am I the bad guy?

Chapter Meme